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+Project Gutenberg’s The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Two Sides of the Shield
+
+Author: Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6007]
+Last Updated: October 13, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Hanh Vu
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+
+By Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+
+It is sometimes treated as an impertinence to revive the personages
+of one story in another, even though it is after the example of
+Shakespeare, who revived Falstaff, after his death, at the behest of
+Queen Elizabeth. This precedent is, however, a true impertinence in
+calling on the very great to justify the very small!
+
+Yet many a letter in youthful handwriting has begged for further
+information on the fate of the beings that had become favourites of the
+school-room; and this has induced me to believe that the following out
+of my own notions as to the careers of former heroes and heroines
+might not be unwelcome; while I have tried to make the story stand
+independently for new readers, unacquainted with the tale in which Lady
+Merrifield and her brothers and sisters first appeared.
+
+‘Scenes and Characters’ was, however, published so long ago, that the
+young readers of this generation certainly will only know it if it has
+had the good fortune to have been preserved by their mothers. It
+was only my second book, and in looking back at it so as to preserve
+consistency, I have been astonished at its crudeness.
+
+It will explain a few illusions to state that it is the story of the
+motherless family of Mohuns of Beechcroft, with a kindly deaf father at
+the head, Mr. Mohun, whose pet name was the Baron of Beechcroft, owing
+to a romantic notion of his daughters made fun of by his sons. The
+eldest sister, a stiff, sensible, dry woman, had just married and gone
+to India, leaving her post to the next in age, Emily, who was much too
+indolent for the charge. Lilies, the third in age, with her head full
+of the kind of high romance and sentiment more prevalent thirty or forty
+years ago than now, imagined that whereas the household had formerly
+been ruled by duty, it now might be so by love. Of course, confusion
+dire was the consequence, chiefly with the younger boys, the scientific,
+cross-grained Maurice, and the high-spirited, turbulent Reginald, all
+the mischief being fomented by Jane’s pertness and curiosity, and only
+mitigated by the honest simplicity and dutifulness of eight years old
+Phyllis. The remedy was found at last in the marriage of the eldest
+son William with Alethea Weston, already Lilias’s favourite friend and
+model.
+
+That in a youthful composition there should be a cavalier ancestry, a
+family much given to dying of consumption, and a young marquess cousin
+is, perhaps, inevitable. Lord Rotherwood was Mr. Mohun’s ward, and
+having a dull home of his own, found his chief happiness as well as all
+the best influences of his life, in the merry, highly-principled, though
+easy-going life at his uncle’s, whom he revered like a father, while
+his eager, somewhat shatter-brained nature often made him a butt to his
+cousins. All this may account for the tone of camaraderie with which the
+scattered members of the family meet again, especially around Lilias,
+who had, with her cleverness and enthusiasm, always been the leading
+member of the group.
+
+It should, perhaps, also be mentioned that Lord Rotherwood’s greatest
+friend was also Lilias’s favourite brother, Claude, who had become a
+clergyman and died early. Aunt Adeline had been the spoilt child and
+beauty of the family, the youngest of all.
+
+C. M. YONGE.
+
+March 8th, 1885.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I. WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? CHAPTER II. THE MERRIFIELDS CHAPTER
+III. GOOD BYE CHAPTER IV. TURNED IN AMONG THEM CHAPTER V. THE FIRST WALK
+CHAPTER VI. PERSECUTION CHAPTER VII. G.F.S. CHAPTER VIII. MY PERSECUTED
+UNCLE CHAPTER IX. LETTERS CHAPTER X. THE EVENING STAR CHAPTER XI. SECRET
+EXPEDITIONS CHAPTER XII. A HUNT CHAPTER XIII. AN EGYPTIAN SPHINX CHAPTER
+XIV. A CYPHER AND A TY CHAPTER XV. THE BUTTERFLY’S BALL CHAPTER XVI. THE
+INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE CHAPTER XVII. THE STONE MELTING CHAPTER XVIII.
+MYSIE AND DOLORES CHAPTER XIX. A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS CHAPTER
+XX. CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE CHAPTER XXI. IN COURT AND OUT CHAPTER
+XXII. NAY
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. -- WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?
+
+
+
+A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which showed a table of small
+dimensions, with a vase of somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses in the
+centre, and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentleman had helped
+himself and a young girl of about thirteen, without much apparent
+consciousness of what he was about, being absorbed in a pile of papers,
+pamphlets, and letters, while she on her side kept a book pinned open by
+a gravy spoon. The elderly maid-servant, who set the dishes before them,
+handed the vegetables and changed the plates, really came as near to
+feeding the pair as was possible with people above three years old.
+
+The one was a dark, thin man, with a good deal of white in his thick
+beard and scanty hair, the absence of which made the breadth of his
+forehead the more remarkable. The girl would have shown an equally
+remarkable brow, but that her dark hair was cut square over it, so as
+to take off from its height, and give a heavy over-hanging look to the
+upper part of the face, which below was tin and sallow, well-featured,
+but with a want of glow and colour. The thick masses of dark hair were
+plaited into a very long thick tail behind, hanging down over a black
+evening frock, whose white trimmings were, like everything else about
+the place, rather dingy. She was far less absorbed than her father, and
+raised a quick, wistful brown eye whenever he made the least sound, or
+shuffled his papers. Indeed, it seemed that she was reading in order to
+distract her anxiety rather than for the sake of occupation.
+
+It was not till after the last pieces of cheese had been offered and
+refused, and the maid had retired, leaving some dull crackers and
+veteran biscuits, with two decanters and a claret-jug, that he spoke.
+
+‘Dolores!’
+
+‘Yes, father.’
+
+But he only cleared his throat, and looked at his letter again, while
+she fixed her eager eyes upon him so earnestly that he let his fall
+again, and looked once more over his letters before he spoke again.
+
+‘Dolores,’ and the tone was dry, as if all feeling were driven from it.
+
+‘Yes, father.’
+
+‘You know that I have accepted this appointment?’
+
+‘Yes, father.’
+
+‘And that I shall be absent three years at the least?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘Then comes the question, how you are to be disposed of in the
+meantime?’
+
+‘Could not I go with you?’ she said, under her breath.
+
+‘No, my dear.’ And somehow the tone had more tenderness in it, though it
+was so explicit. ‘I shall have no fixed residence, no one with whom
+to leave you; and the climate is not fit for you. Your Aunt Lilias has
+kindly offered to take charge of you.’
+
+‘Oh, father!’
+
+‘Well?’
+
+‘If you would only let me stay here with Caroline and Fraulein. I like
+it so much better.’
+
+‘That cannot be, Dolly. I have this morning promised to let the house as
+it is to Mr. Smithson.’
+
+‘And Caroline?’
+
+‘If Caroline takes my advice, she will remain here as his housekeeper,
+and I think she will. Well, what is it? You do not mean that you would
+prefer going to your Aunts Jane and Ada?’
+
+‘Oh no, no; only if I might go to school.’
+
+‘This is nonsense, Dolores. It will be much better for you on all
+accounts to be with your aunt at Silverfold. I have no fear that she and
+her girls will not do their best to make you happy and good, and to give
+you what you have sadly wanted, my poor child. I have always wished you
+could have seen more of her.’
+
+There could be no doubt from the tone, in the mind of any one who knew
+Mr. Maurine Mohun, that the decision was final; but perhaps Dolores
+would have asked more if the door-bell had not rung at the moment and
+Mr. Smithson had not been announced. Fate was closing in on her. She
+retired into her book, and remained as long as she possibly could, for
+the sake of seeing her father and hearing his voice; but after a time
+she was desired to call Caroline, and to go to bed herself, for it was a
+good deal past nine o’clock.
+
+She had been aware, she could hardly tell how, that her father had been
+offered a government appointment connected with the Fiji Islands, and
+then that, glad to escape from the dreariness which had settled down on
+the house since his wife’s death, about eighteen months previously, he
+had accepted it, and she had speculated much on her probable fate; but
+had never before been officially informed of his designs for himself or
+for her.
+
+He was a barrister, who spent all his leisure time on scientific
+studies, and his wife had been equally devoted to the same pursuits.
+Dolores had been her constant companion; but after the mother’s death,
+from an accident on a glacier, a strange barrier of throwing himself
+into the ways of a girl past the charms of infancy. It was as if they
+had lost their interpreter.
+
+The German governess, chosen by Mrs. Mohun, was very German indeed,
+and greatly occupied in her own studies. When she found that the
+armes-liebes Madchen shrank from being wept over and caressed on the
+mournful return, she decided that the English had no feeling, and
+acquiesced in the routine of lessons and expeditions to classes. She was
+never unkind, but she did not try to be a companion; and old Caroline
+was excellent in the attention she paid to the comforts of her master
+and his daughter, but had no love of children, and would not have
+encouraged familiarities, even if Dolores had not been too entirely a
+drawing-room child to offer them.
+
+The morning came, and everything went on as usual; Dolores poured
+out the coffee, Mr. Mohun read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but
+afterwards he asked for a few minutes’ conversation with Fraulein. All
+that Dolores heard of the result of it was ‘So,’ and then lessons went
+on until twelve o’clock, when it was the custom that the girl should
+have an hour’s recreation, which was, in any tolerable weather, spent
+in the gardens of the far west Crescent, where she lived. There she was
+nearly certain of meeting her one great friend, Maude Sefton, who was
+always sent out for her airing at the same time.
+
+They spied each other issuing from their doors, met, linked their arms,
+and entered together. Maude was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow
+bush down her back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great deal
+bigger.
+
+‘My dearest Doll!’
+
+‘Oh yes, it is come.’
+
+‘Then he is really going? I heard the pater and mater talking about it
+yesterday, and they said it would be an excellent thing for him.’
+
+‘Oh, Maude! Then they did not say anything about what we hoped?’
+
+‘What, the mater’s offering for you to come and live with us, darling?
+Oh no; and I’s afraid it is of no use to ask her, for she said of
+herself, that she knew Mr. Mohun had sisters, and--’
+
+‘And what? Tell me, Maude. You must!’
+
+‘Well, then, you know you made me, and I think it is a shame. She
+said she was glad she wasn’t one of them, for you were such a peculiar
+child.’
+
+‘Dear me, Maude, you needn’t mind telling me that! I’m sure I don’t want
+to be like everybody else.’
+
+‘And are you going to one of your aunts?’
+
+‘Yes, to Aunt Lilias. Oh, Maude, he would not hear a word against it,
+and I know it will be so horrid! Aunts are always nasty!’
+
+‘Kate is very fond of her aunt,’ said Maude, who did not happen to have
+any personal experiences to oppose to this sweeping assertion.
+
+‘Oh, I don’t mean proper aunts, but aunts that have orphans left to
+them.’
+
+‘But you are not an orphan, darling.’
+
+‘I dare say I shall be. ‘Tis a horrible climate, and there are no end
+of cannibals there, so that he would not take me out for anything,--and
+sharks, and volcanoes, and hurricanes.’
+
+‘I don’t think they eat people there now.’
+
+‘It’s bad enough if they don’t! And you know those aunts begin pretty
+well, while they are in fear of the father, but then they get worse.’
+
+‘There was Ada Morton,’ said Maude, in a tone of conviction, ‘and Anna
+Ross.’
+
+‘Oh yes, and another book, ‘Rose Turquand.’ It was a grown-up book, that
+I read once--long ago,’ said Dolores, who had in her mother’s time been
+allowed a pretty free range of ‘book-box.’
+
+“And there’s ‘Under the Shield,’ but that was a boy.”
+
+‘There are lots and lots,’ said Dolores. ‘They are ever so much worse
+than the stepmothers! Not that there is any fear of that!’ she added
+quickly.
+
+‘But isn’t this Aunt Lilias nice? It’s a pretty name. Which is she? You
+have one aunt a Lady Something, haven’t you?’
+
+‘Yes, it is this one, Lady Merrifield. Her husband is a general, Sir
+Jasper Merrifield, and he is gone out to command in some place in India;
+but she cannot stand the climate, and is living at home at a place
+called Silverfold, with a whole lot of children. I think two are gone
+out with their father, but there are a great many more.’
+
+‘Don’t you know them at all?’
+
+‘No, and don’t want to! I think my aunts were unkind to mother!’
+
+‘Oh!’ exclaimed Maude.
+
+‘I am sure of it. They were horrid, stuck-up, fine ladies, and looked
+down on her, though she was ever so much nicer, and cleverer, and more
+intellectual than they; and she looked down on them.’
+
+‘Are you sure?’ asked Maude, to whom it was as good as a story.
+
+‘Yes, indeed. She was civil, of course, because they were father’s
+sisters, but I know she couldn’t bear them. If any of them came to
+London, there was a calling, but all very stupid, and a dining at
+Lord Rotherwood’s; but she never would, except once, when I can hardly
+remember, go to stay at their slow places in the country. I’ve heard
+father try to persuade her when they didn’t think I understood. You know
+we always went abroad, or to the sea or something, except last year,
+when we were at Beechcroft. That wasn’t so bad, for there were lots of
+books, and Uncle Reginald was there, and he is jolly.’
+
+‘Can’t you get Mr. Mohun to send you there?’
+
+‘No, I don’t think they would have me, for every body there is grown
+up, and father seems to have a wish for me to be with this Aunt Lilias,
+because she has a schoolroom.’
+
+‘I wonder he should wish it, if she was unkind to Mrs. Mohun.’
+
+‘Well, she was out of the way most of the time. They have lived at Malta
+and Gibraltar, and Belfast, and all sorts of places, so they will
+all have regular garrison frivolous manner, and think of nothing but
+officers and balls. I know she was a beauty, and wants to be one still.’
+
+‘Maude, whose father was a professor, looked quite appalled and said--
+
+‘You will be the one to infuse better things.’ She felt quite proud of
+the word.
+
+‘Perhaps,’ returned Dolores; ‘they always do that in time, but not till
+they’ve been awfully bullied. All the cousins are jealous, and the aunt
+spites them because they are nicer and prettier than her own.’
+
+‘Yes,’ said Maude, ‘but then there’s always some tremendously nice
+boy-cousin, or uncle, or something, that makes up for it all. Will Sir
+Jasper Merrifield’s eldest son be a Sir?’
+
+‘Oh no; he’s not a baronet, but a G.C.B., Knight Grand Cross of the
+Bath, that is. Besides, I don’t care for love, and titles, and all that
+nonsense, though father is first cousin to Lord Rotherwood.’
+
+‘And you never saw any of them?’
+
+‘Yes, Aunt Lilias was at the Charing Cross Hotel with Uncle Jasper and
+the two eldest daughters, Alethea and Phyllis, and some more of them,
+just before they sailed; and father took me there on Sunday to luncheon;
+but there were so many people, and such a talk, and such a bustle, that
+I hardly knew which was which. Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada were a talking
+that it made my head turn round; but I saw how affected Aunt Lilias is,
+and I knew that whenever they looked at me they said ‘poor child,’ and
+I always hate any one who does that! All I was afraid of then was that
+father would let Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada come and live with us; but this
+is ever so much worse.’
+
+‘You have such a lot of aunts and uncles!’ said Maude, ‘and I have not
+got anything but one old uncle.’
+
+‘Uncles are all very well,’ said Dolores, said Maude. ‘There are the two
+Miss Mohuns--’
+
+‘Oh, that’s beginning at the wrong end. Aunt Ada is the youngest of them
+all, and she thinks she is a young lady still, and wears little curls
+on her forehead, and a tennis pinafore, and makes her waist just like a
+wasp. She and Aunt Jane live together at Rockquay, because she has bad
+health--at least she has whenever she likes; and Aunt Jane does all
+sorts of charities and worries, and sets everybody to rights,’
+said Dolly, in a very grown-up voice, speaking partly from her own
+observation, and partly repeating what she had caught from her elders.
+
+‘Oh yes, I know her,’ said Maude. ‘She asked me questions about all I
+did, and she did bother mamma so about a maid she recommended that we
+are never going to take another from her.’
+
+‘Aunt Phyllis comes between them, I believe; but she has married a
+sailor captain and gone to settle in New Zealand, and I have not seen
+her since I was a very little girl. Then there’s Aunt Emily, who is a
+very great swell indeed. Her husband was a canon, Lord Henry Grey;
+but he is dead, and she lives at Brighton, a regular fat, comfortable
+down-pillow of a woman, who isn’t bad to lunch with, only she sends one
+out to the Parade with her maid, as if one was a baby. Mother used to
+laugh at her. And I think there was an older one who went to India and
+died long ago.’
+
+‘I have seen your two uncles. There’s Major Mohun. Oh! he is fun!’
+
+‘Yes, dear old Uncle Regie! I wish he was not in Ireland. He will be so
+sorry to miss seeing father off, but he can’t get leave. And there was a
+clergyman who is dead, and father grieved for very much. I think he did
+something to make them all nicer to mother, for it was just after that
+we went to stay at Beechcroft with Uncle William. You know him, and how
+mother used to call him the very model of a country squire; and I like
+his wife, Aunt Alethea. Only it is very pokey and slow down there, and
+they are always after flannel petticoats and soup kitchens, and all the
+old fads that are exploded. I should get awfully tired of it before a
+year was out, only I should not be teased with strange children, and
+there would be no one to be jealous of me.’
+
+‘Can’t you get your father to change and send you there?’
+
+‘Not a chance. You see Aunt Lilias had offered, and they haven’t, and I
+must go on with my education. I hope, though I shall have no advantages,
+I shall still be able to go up for the Cambridge examination, if Aunt
+Lilias has not prejudices, as I dare say she has, since of course none
+of her own will be able to try.’
+
+‘You’ll come up to us for the examination, Dolly dear, and we shall do
+it together, and that will be nice!’
+
+‘If they will let me; but I don’t expect to be allowed to do anything
+that I wish. Only perhaps father may be come home by that time.’
+
+‘Is it three years?’
+
+‘Yes. It is a terrible time, isn’t it? However, when I’m seventeen
+perhaps he will talk to me, and I can really keep house.’
+
+‘And then you’ll come back here?’
+
+‘Do you know, Maudie--listen--I’ve another uncle, belonging to mother.’
+
+‘Oh, Dolly! I thought she had no one!’
+
+‘He told me he was my Uncle Alfred once when he met me in the park with
+Fraulein, and gave me a note for mother. He is called Mr. Flinders.’
+
+‘But I thought your mother was daughter to Professor Hay?’
+
+‘But this is a half-brother; my grandmother was married before. Uncle
+Alfrey has an immense light beard, and I think he is very poor. He came
+once or twice to see mother, and they always sent me out of the room;
+but I am sure she gave him money--not father’s housekeeping money, but
+what she got for herself by writing. Once I heard father go out of the
+house, saying, ‘Well, it’s your own to do as you please with.’ And then
+mother went to her room, and I know she cried. It was the only time that
+ever mother cried!’ And as Maude listened, much impressed--‘Once when
+she had got eleven pounds, and we were going to have bought father such
+a binocular for a secret as a birthday present, Mr. Flinders came, and
+she gave him ten of it, and we could only buy just a few slides for
+father. And she told me she was grieved, but she could not help it, and
+it would be time for me to understand when I was older.’
+
+‘I don’t think this Uncle Alfrey can be nice,’ said Maude.
+
+‘’Tis quite disgusting if he kisses me,’ said Dolly; ‘but you see he is
+poor, and all the Mohuns are stuck up, except father, and they wanted
+mother to despise him, and not help him. And you see, she stuck to him.
+I don’t like him much; but you see nobody ever was like her! Oh, Maude,
+if she wasn’t dead!’
+
+And poor Dolores cried as she had not done even at the time of the
+accident, or in the terrible week that followed, or at the desolate home
+coming.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. -- THE MERRIFIELDS.
+
+
+
+The cool twilight of a long sunny summer’s day was freshening the
+pleasant garden of a country house, and three people were walking slowly
+along a garden path enjoying the contrast with the heat, glare, and
+noise of the day. The central one was a tall, slender lady, with a light
+shawl hung round her shoulders. On one side was a youth who had begun to
+overtop her, on the other a girl of shorter and sturdier mould, who only
+reached up to her shoulder.
+
+‘So she is coming!’ the girl said.
+
+‘Yes, Uncle Maurice has answered my letter very kindly.’
+
+‘I should think he would be very much obliged,’ observed the boy.
+
+‘Please, mamma, do tell us all about it,’ said the girl. ‘You know I
+stopped directly when you made me a sign not to go on asking questions
+before the little ones. And you said you should have to make us your
+friends while papa and the grown-ups are away.’
+
+‘Well, Gillian, I know you can be discreet when you are warned, and
+perhaps it is best that you should know how things stand. Do you
+remember anything about it, Hal?’
+
+‘Only a general perception that there were tempests in the higher
+regions, but I think that was more from hearing Alley and Phyl talk than
+from my native sagacity.’
+
+‘So I should suppose, since you were only six years old, at the utmost.’
+
+‘But Uncle Maurice always was under a cloud, wasn’t he, especially at
+Beechcroft, where I never saw him or his wife in the holidays except
+once, when I believe she was not at all liked, and was thought to be
+very proud, and stuck-up, and pretentious.’
+
+‘But was she just nobody? not a lady?’ cried Gillian. ‘Aunt Emily always
+called her, ‘“Poor thing.”’
+
+‘Perhaps she did the same by Aunt Emily,’ returned Hal.
+
+‘And I am sure I have heard Aunt Ada say that she wasn’t a lady; and
+Aunt Jane that she had all sorts of discreditable connections.’
+
+‘Come now, Gill, if you chatter so, how is mamma to get a word in
+between?’
+
+‘I’m afraid we have all been hard on her, poor thing!’
+
+‘There now, mamma has done it, just like Aunt Emily!’
+
+‘Anybody would be poor who got killed in a glacier!’
+
+‘No, but one doesn’t say poor when people are--nice.’
+
+‘When I said poor,’ now put in Lady Merrifield, ‘it was not so much that
+I was thinking of her death as of her having come into a family where
+nobody welcomed her, and I really do not suppose it was her fault.’
+
+‘Moreover, she seemed to do very well without a welcome,’ added Hal.
+
+‘Who is interrupting now?’ cried Gillian, ‘but was she a lady?’
+
+‘I never saw her, you know,’ said the mother; ‘but from all I ever heard
+of her, I should think she was, and cleverer and more highly educated
+than any of us.’
+
+‘Yes,’ said Hal, ‘that was the kind of pretension that exasperated them
+all at Beechcroft, especially Uncle William.’
+
+‘I wonder if Dolores will have it!’ said Gillian. ‘I suppose she will
+know much more than we do.’
+
+‘Probably, being the only child of such parents, and with every
+advantage London can give. Maurice was always much the cleverest of us
+all, and with a very strong mechanical and scientific turn, so that I
+now think it might have been better to have let him follow his bent. But
+when we were young there was a good deal of mistrust of anything outside
+the beaten tracks of gentlemanlike professions, and my dear old father
+did not like what he heard of the course of study for those lines.
+Things were not as they are now. So Maurice went to Cambridge, and was
+fifth wrangler of his year, and then had to go to the bar. It somehow
+always gave him a thwarted, injured feeling of working against the
+grain, and he cultivated all these scientific pursuits to the utmost,
+getting more and more into opinions and society that distressed
+grandpapa and Uncle William. So he fell in with Mr. Hay, a professor
+at a German university. I can hear William’s tone of utter contempt and
+disgust. I believe this poor man was exceedingly learned, and had made
+some remarkable discoveries, but he was very poor, and lived in lodgings
+at Bonn with his daughter in the small way people are content to do in
+Germany. As to his opinions, we all took it for granted that he was a
+freethinker; but I can’t tell how that might be. Maurice lodged in the
+same house one year when he went to learn German and attend lectures,
+and he went back again every long vacation. At last came your dear
+grandfather’s death. Maurice hurried away from Beechcroft immediately
+after the funeral, and the next thing that was heard of him was that
+he had married Miss Hay. It was no wonder that your Uncle William was
+bitterly hurt and offended at the apparent disrespect to our father, and
+would make no move towards Maurice.’
+
+‘It was when we were at the Cape, wasn’t it?’ asked Hal.
+
+‘Yes, the year Gillian was born. Well, your dear Uncle Claude went to
+see Maurice in London, and found there was much excuse. Maurice had
+learnt that the old professor was dying, and his daughter had nothing,
+and would have had to be a governess, so that Maurice had married her in
+haste in order to be able to help them.’
+
+‘Then it really was very kind and noble in him!’ exclaimed Gillian.
+
+‘And I believe every one would have felt it so; but for his
+unfortunately reserved way of concealing the extent of the acquaintance,
+and showing that he would not be interfered with. Claude did his best to
+close the breach, but there had been something to forgive on both sides,
+and perhaps SHE was prouder than the Mohuns themselves. Oh! my dears,
+I hope you will never have a family quarrel among you! It is so sad to
+look back upon a change after the happy years when we were all together,
+and were laughing and making fun of one another!’
+
+‘But you were quite out of it, mamma.’
+
+‘So I was in a way, but I knew nothing of the justification till too
+late for any advances from us to take much effect. I am four years older
+than Maurice, we had never been a pair, and had never corresponded.
+And when I wrote to him and to his wife, I only received stiff, formal
+answers. They were abroad when we were in London on coming home, and
+they would not come to see us at Belfast, so that I could never make
+acquaintance with her; but I believe she was an excellent wife, suiting
+him admirably in every way, and I expect to find this little daughter of
+theirs very well brought up, and much forwarder than honest old Mysie.’
+
+‘Mysie is in perfect raptures at the notion of having a cousin here
+exactly of her own age,’ said Gillian. ‘What she would wish is that the
+two should be so much alike as to be taken for twins. I have been trying
+to remember Dolores on that dreadful Sunday at the hotel, when Uncle
+Maurice came to see us, just when papa was setting off for Bombay, but
+it all seems confusion. I can think of nothing but a little black, shy
+figure. I remember Phyllis telling me that she thought I ought to do
+something to entertain her, but I could not think of a word to say to
+her.’
+
+‘For which perhaps she was thankful,’ said her brother.
+
+‘I am not sure. You are all too apt, when you are shy, to console
+yourself with fancying that you are doing as you would be done by. It
+might have worried her then perhaps, but it would have made it easier
+for her to begin among us now! I am very glad her father consents to my
+having her! I do hope we may make her happy.’
+
+‘Happy!’ said Gillian. ‘Anybody must be happy with such a number to play
+with, and with you to mother her, mamma.’
+
+‘I am afraid she will not feel me much like her own mother, poor child!
+But it will not be for want of the will. When I look back now I feel
+sorry for myself for the early loss of my mother, for though we were all
+merry enough as children and young people, there always seems to have
+been a lack of something fostering and repressing. There was a kind of
+desolateness in our life, though we did not understand it at the time.
+I am thankful you have not known it, my dears.’ There was a strange rush
+of tears nearly choking her voice, and she shook them away with a sort
+of laugh. ‘That I should cry for that at this time of day!’
+
+Gillian raised her face for a kiss, and even Harry did the same. Their
+hearts were very full, as the perception swept over them in one flash
+what their lives would have been without mamma. It seemed like the solid
+earth giving way under their feet!
+
+‘I am very sorry for poor Dolores,’ said Gillian presently. ‘It seems as
+if we could never be kind enough to her.’
+
+‘Yes. Indeed I hope we may do something towards supplying her with a
+real home, wandering sprites as we have been,’ said Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘What a name it is! Dolores! It is as bad as Peter Grievous! How did she
+get it?’ grumbled Harry.
+
+‘That I cannot tell, but I think we must call her Dora or Dolly, as I
+fancy your Aunt Jane told me she was called at home. I hope Wilfred
+will not get hold of it and tease her about it. You must defend her from
+that.’
+
+‘If we can,’ said Gillian; ‘but Wilfred is rather an imp.’
+
+‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘I found Primrose reduced to the verge of distraction
+yesterday because ‘Willie would call her Leg of Mutton.’’
+
+‘I hope you boxed his ears!’ cried Gillian.
+
+‘I did give it to him well,’ said Hal, laughing.
+
+‘Thank you,’ said his mother. ‘A big brother is more effective in such
+cases than any one else can be. Wilfred is the only one of you all who
+ever seemed to take pleasure in causing pain--and I hardly know how to
+meet the propensity.’
+
+‘He is the only one who is not quite certain to be nice with Dolores,’
+said Gillian.
+
+‘And I really don’t quite see how to manage,’ said the mother. ‘If we
+show him our anxiety to shield her, it is very likely to direct his
+attention that way.’
+
+‘She must take her chance,’ said Hal, ‘and if she is any way rational,
+she can soon put a stop to it.’
+
+‘But, oh dear! I wish he could go to school,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘So do I, my dear,’ returned her mother; ‘but you know the doctors say
+we must not risk it for another year, and I can only hope that as he
+grows stronger, he may become more manly. Meantime we must be patient
+with him, and Hal can help more than any one else. There--what’s that
+striking?’
+
+‘Three quarters.’
+
+‘Then we must make haste in, or we shall not have finished supper before
+ten.’
+
+Lilias Mohun had married a soldier, and after many wanderings through
+military stations, the health and education of a large proportion of
+her family had necessitated her remaining at home with them, while her
+husband held a command in India, taking out with him the two grown-up
+daughters and the second son, who was on his staff. She was established
+in a large house not far from a country town, for the convenience of
+daily governess, tutor, and masters. She herself had grown up on the
+old system which made education depend more on the family than on the
+governess, and she preferred honestly the company and training of her
+children to going into society in her husband’s absence. Therefore
+she arranged her habits with a view to being constantly with them, and
+though exchanging calls, and occasionally accepting invitations in the
+neighbourhood, it was an understood thing that she went out very little.
+The chief exceptions were when her eldest son, Harry, was at home from
+Oxford. He was devotedly fond of her, and all the more pleased and proud
+to take her about with him because it had not always been possible that
+his holidays in his school life should be spent at home, and thus the
+privilege was doubly prized.
+
+The two sisters above and one brother below him were in India with their
+father, and Gillian was not yet out of the schoolroom, though this did
+not cut her off from being her mother’s prime companion. Then followed a
+schoolboy at Wellington, named Jasper, two more girls, a brace of boys,
+and the five-year-old baby of the establishment--sufficient reasons
+to detain Lady Merrifield in England after more than twenty years of
+travels as a soldier’s wife, so that scarcely three of her children had
+the same birthplace. She had been able to see very little of her English
+relations, being much tied by the number of her children while all were
+very young, and the expense of journeys; but she was now within easy
+reach of her two unmarried sisters, and after the Cape, Gibraltar,
+Malta, and Dublin, the homes of her eldest sister, and of her eldest
+brother did not seem very far off.
+
+Indeed Beechcroft, the home of her childhood, had always been the
+headquarters of herself and her children on their rare visits to
+England. Her elder boys had been sure of a welcome there in the
+holidays, and loved it scarcely less than she did herself; and when
+looking for her present abode, the whole family had stayed there for
+three months. Her brother Maurice, however, she had scarcely seen, and
+she had been much pained at being included in his persistent avoidance
+of the whole family, who felt that he resented their displeasure at his
+marriage even more since his wife’s death than he had done during her
+lifetime, as if he felt doubly bound, for her sake, not to forgive and
+forget. At least so said some of the family, while others hoped that
+his distaste to all intercourse with them only arose from the apathy
+succeeding a great blow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. -- GOOD-BYE
+
+
+
+A passage was offered to Mr. Mohun in a Queen’s ship, and this hurried
+the preparations so much that to Dolores it appeared that there was
+nothing but bustle and confusion, from the day of her conversation with
+Maude, until she found herself in the railway carriage returning from
+Plymouth with her eldest uncle. Her father had intended to take her
+himself to Silverfold; but detentions at the office in London, and then
+a telegram from Plymouth, had disconcerted his plans, and when he found
+that his eldest brother would come and meet him at the last, he was glad
+to yield to his little daughter’s earnest desire to be with him as long
+as possible.
+
+Shy and reserved as both were, and almost incapable of finding
+expression for their feelings, they still clung closely together, though
+the only tears the girl was seen to shed came in church on the last
+Sunday evening, blinding and choking, and she could barely restrain her
+sobs. Her father would have taken her out, but she resisted, and leant
+against him, while he put his arm round her. After this, whenever it was
+possible, she crept up to him, and he held her close.
+
+There had been no further discussion on her home. Lady Merrifield had
+written kindly to her, as well as to her father, but that was small
+consolation to one so well instructed by story books in the hypocrisy of
+aunts until fathers were at a distance. And her father was so manifestly
+gratified by the letter, that it would be of no use to say a word to him
+now. Her fate was determined, and, as she heroically told Maude in their
+last interview, she was determined to make the best of it. She would
+endure the unjust aunt, and jealous, silly cousins, and be so clever,
+and wise, and superior, that she would force them to admire and respect
+her, and by-and-by follow her example, and be good and sensible, so that
+when father came home, he would find them acknowledging that they owed
+everything to her; she had saved two or three of their lives,
+nursed half of them when the other half were helpless, fainting, and
+hysterical, and, in short, been the Providence of the household. Then
+father would look at her, and say, ‘My Mary again!’ and he would take
+her home, and talk to her with the free confidence he had shown her
+mother, and would be comforted.
+
+This was the hope that had carried her through the last parting, when
+she went on board with her uncle and saw her father’s cabin, and looked
+with a dull kind of entertainment at all the curious arrangements of the
+big ship. It seemed more like sight-seeing than good-bye, when at last
+they were sent on shore, and hurried up to the station just in time for
+the train.
+
+Uncle William was a very unapproachable person. He did not profess to
+understand little girls. He looked at Dolores rather anxiously, afraid,
+perhaps, that she was crying, and put her into the carriage, then rushed
+out and brought back a handful of newspapers, giving her the Graphic,
+and hiding himself in the Times.
+
+She felt too dull and stunned to read, or to look at the pictures,
+though she held the paper in her hands, and she gazed out dreamily at
+the Ton’s and rocks and woody ravines of Dartmoor as they flew past her,
+the leaves and ferns all golden brown with autumn colouring. She had
+had little sleep that night; her little legs had all the morning been
+keeping up with the two men’s hasty steps, and though an excellent meal
+had been set before her in the ship, she had not been able to swallow
+much, and she was a good deal worn out. So when at last they reached
+Exeter, and finding there would be two hours to wait, her uncle
+asked whether she would come down into the town with him and see the
+Cathedral, she much preferred to stay where she was. He put her under
+the care of the woman in the waiting-room, who gave her some tea, took
+off her hat, and made her lie down on a couch, where she slept quite
+sound for more than an hour, until she was roused by some ladies coming
+in with a crying baby.
+
+It was, she thought, nearly time to go on, for the gas was being
+lighted. She put on her hat, and went out to look for her uncle on
+the platform, so as to get into a better light to see the face of her
+mother’s little Swiss watch, which her father had just made over to her.
+She had just made out that there was not more than a quarter of an hour
+to spare, when she heard an exclamation.
+
+‘By Jove! if that ain’t Mary’s little girl!’ and, looking up she saw Mr.
+Flinders’ huge, bushy, light-coloured beard. ‘Is your father here?’ he
+asked.
+
+‘No; he sailed this afternoon.’
+
+‘Always my luck! Ticket wasted! Sailed--really?’
+
+‘Oh yes. We did not come back till the ship was out of harbour.’
+
+He muttered some exclamation, and asked--
+
+‘Whom are you with?’
+
+‘Uncle William. Mr. Mohun--my eldest uncle. He will be back directly.’
+
+Mr. Flinders whistled a note of discontent.
+
+‘Going to rusticate with him, poor little mite?’ he asked.
+
+‘No. I’m to live with my Aunt Lilias--Lady Merrifield.’
+
+‘Where?’
+
+‘At Silverfold Grange, near Silverfold.’
+
+‘Well, you’ll get among the swells. They’ll make you cut all your
+poor mother’s connections. So there’s an end of it. She was a good
+creature--she was!’
+
+‘I’ll never forget any one that belongs to her,’ said Dolores. ‘Oh,
+there’s Uncle William!’ as on the top of the stairs she spied the
+welcome sight of his grey locks and burly figure. Before he had
+descended, her other uncle had vanished, and she fancied she had heard
+something about, ‘Mum about our meeting. Ta ta!’
+
+Uncle William’s eyes being less sharp than hers, he was on his way
+to the waiting-room before she joined him, and as he had not seen her
+encounter, she would not tell him. They were settled in the carriage
+again, and she was tolerably refreshed. Mr. Mohun fell asleep, and she,
+after reading by the lamp-light as long as she could find anything to
+read, gazed at the odd reflections in the windows till she, too, nodded
+and dozed, half waking at every station.
+
+At last, she was aware of a stop in earnest, voices, and being called.
+There was her uncle saying, ‘Well, Hal, here we are!’ and she was lifted
+out and set on the platform, with gas all round. Her uncle was saying,
+‘We didn’t get away in time for the express,’ and a young man was
+answering, ‘We’d better put Dolly into the waggonette at once. Then I’ll
+see to the luggage.’
+
+Very like a parcel, so stiff were her legs, she was bundled into the
+dark cavern of a closed waggonette, and, after a little lumbering, her
+uncle and the young man got in after her, saying something about eleven
+o’clock.
+
+She was more awake now, and knew that they were driving through lighted
+streets, and then, after an interval, turned into darkness, upon gravel,
+and stopped at last before a door full of light, with figures standing
+up dark in it. She heard a ‘Well, William!’ ‘Well Lily, here we are at
+last!’ Then there were arms embracing her, and a kiss on each cheek, as
+a soft voice said, ‘My poor little girl! They wanted to sit up for you,
+but it was too late, and I dare say you had rather be quiet.’
+
+She was led into a lamp-lit room, which dazzled her. It was spread with
+food, but she was too much tired to eat, and her aunt saw how it was,
+and telling Harry to take care of his uncle, she took the hand--though
+it did not close on hers--and, climbing up what seemed to Dolores an
+endless number of stairs, she said--
+
+‘You are up high, my dear; but I thought you would like a room to
+yourself.’
+
+‘Poked away in an attic,’ was Dolores’s dreamy thought; while her aunt
+added, to a tall, thin woman, who came out with a lamp in her hand--
+
+‘She is so tired that she had better go to bed directly, Mrs. Halfpenny.
+You will make her comfortable, and don’t let her be disturbed in the
+morning till she has had her sleep out.’
+
+Dolly found herself undressed, without many words, till it came
+to--‘Your prayers, Miss Dora. I am sure you’ve need not to miss them.’
+
+She did not like to be told, besides, poor child, prayers were not much
+more than a form to her. She did not contest the point, but knelt down
+and muttered something, then laid her weary head on the pillow, was
+tucked up by Mrs. Halfpenny, and left in the dark. It was a dreary half
+sleep into which she fell. The noise of the train seemed to be still in
+her ears, and at the same time she was always being driven up--up--up
+endless stairs, by tall, cruel aunts; or they were shutting her up to do
+all their children’s work, and keeping away father’s letters from her.
+Then she awoke and told herself it was a dream, but she missed the
+noises of the street, and the patch of light on the wall from the gas
+lamps, and recollected that father was gone, and she was really in the
+power of one of these cruel aunts; and she felt like screaming, only
+then she might have been heard; and a great horrid clock went on making
+a noise like a church bell, and striking so many odd quarters that there
+was no guessing when morning was coming. And after all, why should she
+wish it to come? Oh, if she could but sleep the three years while father
+was away!
+
+At last, however, she fell into a really calm sleep, and when she awoke,
+the room was full of light, but her watch had stopped; she had been too
+much tired to remember to wind it; and she lay a little while hearing
+sounds that made it clear that the world was astir, and she could see
+that preparations had been made for her getting up.
+
+‘They shan’t begin by scolding me for being late,’ she thought, and she
+began her toilette.
+
+Just as she came to her hair, the old nurse knocked and asked whether
+she wanted help.
+
+‘Thank you, I’ve been used to dress myself,’ said Dolores, rather
+proudly.
+
+‘I’ll help you now, missy, for prayers are over, and they are all gone
+to breakfast, only my lady said you were not to be disturbed, and Miss
+Mysie will be up presently again to bring you down.’
+
+She spoke low, and in an accent that Dolores afterwards learnt was
+Scotch; and she was a tall, thin, bony woman, with sandy hair, who
+looked as if she had never been young. She brushed and plaited the dark
+hair in a manner that seemed to the owner more wearisome and less tender
+than Caroline’s fashion; and did not talk more than to inquire into the
+fashion of wearing it, and to say that Miss Mohun’s boxes had been sent
+from London, demanding the keys that they might be unpacked.
+
+‘I can do that myself,’ said Dolores, who did not like any stranger to
+meddle with her things.
+
+‘Ye could tak them oot, nae doubt, but I must sort them. It’s my
+lady’s orders,’ said Mrs. Halfpenny, with all the determination of the
+sergeant, her husband, and Dolores, with a sense of despair, and a sort
+of expectation that she should be deprived of all her treasures on one
+plea or another, gave up the keys.
+
+Mrs. Halfpenny then observed that the frock which had been worn for the
+last two days on the railway, and evening and morning, needed a better
+brushing and setting to rights than she had had time to give it. She had
+better take out another. Which box were her frocks in?
+
+Dolores expected her heartless relations to insist on her leaving off
+her mourning, and she knew she ought to struggle and shed tears over it;
+but, to tell the truth, she was a good deal tired of her hot and fusty
+black; and when she had followed Mrs. Halfpenny into a passage where
+the boxes stood uncorded; and the first dress that came to light was
+a pretty fresh-looking holland that had been sent home just before the
+accident, she exclaimed--
+
+‘Oh, let me put that on.’
+
+‘Bless me, miss, it has blue braid, and you in mourning for your poor
+mamma!’
+
+Dolores stood abashed, but a grey alpaca, which she had always much
+disliked, came out next, and Mrs. Halfpenny decided that with her black
+ribbons that would do, though it turned out to be rather shockingly
+short, and to show a great display of black legs; but as the box
+containing the clothes in present wear had not come to hand, this must
+stand for the present--and besides, a voice was heard, saying, ‘Is Dora
+ready?’ and a young person darted up, put her arms round her neck, and
+kissed her before she knew what she was about. ‘Mamma said I should come
+because I am just your age, thirteen and a half,’ she said. ‘I’m Mysie,
+though my proper name is Maria Millicent.’
+
+Dolores looked her over. She was a good deal taller than herself, and
+had rich-looking shining brown hair, dark brown eyes full of merriment,
+and a bright rosy colour, and she danced on her active feet as if
+she were full of perpetual life. ‘All happy and not caring,’ thought
+Dolores.
+
+‘Now don’t fash Miss Mohun with your tricks. She has stood like a lamb,’
+said Mrs. Halfpenny reprovingly. ‘There, we’ll not keep her to find an
+apron.’
+
+‘I don’t wear pinafores,’ said Mysie, ‘but I don’t mind pretty aprons
+like this. ‘Why, my sisters had them for tennis, before they went out to
+India. Come along, Dora,’ grasping her hand.
+
+‘My name isn’t Dora,’ said the new-comer, as they went down the passage.
+
+‘No,’ said Mysie, in a low voice; ‘but mamma told Gill--that’s Gillian,
+and me, that we had better not tell anybody, because if the boys heard
+they might tease you so about it; for Wilfred is a tease, and there’s
+no stopping him when mamma isn’t there. So she said she would call
+you Dora, or Dolly, whichever you liked, and you are not a bit like a
+Dolly.’
+
+‘They always called me Dolly,’ said Dolores; ‘and if I am not to have my
+name, I like that best; but I had rather have my proper name.’
+
+‘Oh, very well,’ said Mysie; ‘it is more out of the way, only it is very
+long.’
+
+By this time they had descended a long narrow flight of uncarpeted
+stairs, ‘the back ones,’ as Mysie explained, and had reached a slippery
+oak hall with high-backed chairs, and all the odds and ends of a
+family-garden hats, waterproofs, galoshes, bats, rackets, umbrellas,
+etc., ranged round, and a great white cockatoo upon a stand, who
+observed--‘Mysie, Cockie wants his breakfast,’ as they went by towards
+the door, whence proceeded a hubbub of voices and a clatter of knives
+and jingle of teaspoons and cups, a room that as Mysie threw open the
+door seemed a blaze of sunshine, pouring in at the large window, and
+reflected in the glass and silver. Yes, and in the bright eyes and
+glossy hair of the party who sat round the breakfast-table, further
+brightened by the fire, pleasant in the early autumn.
+
+Eyes, as it seemed to Dolores, eyes without number were levelled on her,
+as Mysie led her in, saying--
+
+‘Here’s a place by mamma; she kept it for you, between her and Uncle
+William.’
+
+‘No, don’t all jump up at once and rush at her,’ said Lady Merrifield.
+‘Give her a little time. Here, my dear;’ and she held out her hand and
+drew in the stranger to her, kissing her kindly, and placing her in a
+chair close to herself, as she presided over the teacups--not at the
+end, but at the middle of the table--while all that could be desired to
+eat and drink found its way at once to Dolores, who had arrived at being
+hungry now, and was glad to have the employment for hands and eyes,
+instead of feeling herself gazed at. She was not so much occupied,
+however, as not to perceive that Uncle William’s voice had a free, merry
+ring in it, such as she had never heard in his visits to her father, and
+that there was a great deal of fun and laughter going on over the thin
+sheets of an Indian letter, which Aunt Lily was reading aloud.
+
+No one seemed to be attending to anything else, when Dolores ventured to
+cast a glance around and endeavour to count heads as she sat between her
+uncle and aunt. Two boys and a girl were opposite. Harry, who had come
+to meet them last night, was at one end of the table, a tall girl,
+but still a schoolroom girl, was at the other, and Mysie had been lost
+sights of on her own side of the table; also there was a very tiny girl
+on a high chair on the other side of her mamma. ‘Seven,’ thought Dolores
+with sinking heart. ‘Eight oppressors!’
+
+They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures. One boy, at the
+further corner, had a cast in his eye, and was thin and wizen-looking,
+and when he saw her eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got
+rid of like a flash of lightning before any one else could see it, but
+her heart sank all the more for it. He must be Wilfred, the teaser.
+
+Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in some kind of soft
+grey, with a little carnation colour at her throat, and a pretty lace
+cap on her still rich, abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search
+could only detect a very few white threads. Her complexion was always of
+a soft, paly, brunette tint, and though her cheeks showed signs that she
+was not young, her dark, soft, long-lashed eyes and sweet-looking
+lips made her face full of life and freshness; and the figure and long
+slender hands had the kind of grace that some people call willowy, but
+which is perhaps more like the general air of a young birch tree, or,
+as Hal had once said, ‘Early pointed architecture reminded him of his
+mother.’
+
+The little one was getting restless, and two of the boys began filliping
+crumbs at one another.
+
+‘Wilfred! Fergus!’ said the mother quite low and gently; but they
+stopped directly. ‘We will say grace,’ she said, lifting the little one
+down. ‘Now, Primrose.’
+
+Every one stood up, to Dolores’ surprise, a pair of little fat hands
+were put together, a little clear voice said a few words of thanksgiving
+perfectly pronounced.
+
+‘You may go, if you like,’ she said. ‘Hal, take care of Prim.’
+
+Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who took the hand of
+little Primrose, a beautiful little maiden with rich chestnut wavy
+curls. They all paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the girls
+a little curtsey. Primrose’s was as pretty a little ‘bob’ as ever was
+seen.
+
+‘I am glad you keep that custom up,’ said Mr. Mohun.
+
+‘Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it to be the habit among
+us; and I find it a great protection against bouncing and rudeness.’
+
+But Dolly’s blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, military nonsense.
+She would never give in to it, if they made her live on bread and water!
+
+The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened out their breakfast from
+politeness to her, had finished when she had, and the pony-chaise came
+to the door, in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the station.
+Everybody flocked to the door to bid him good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias
+stooped down to ask Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite
+well, Mysie standing anxiously by as if she felt her a great charge.
+
+‘Quite well, quite rested, thank you,’ the girl answered in her stiff,
+shy way.
+
+‘There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent comes. The children
+generally spend it in feeding the creatures. I am not going to give
+a holiday, because I think people get more pleasantly acquainted over
+something, than over nothing, to do, but you need not begin lessons
+to-day if you had rather settle your thoughts and write your letters.’
+
+‘I had rather begin at once,’ said Dolores, who thought she would now
+establish her pre-eminence at the cost of any amount of jealousy.
+
+‘Very well, then, when you hear the gong--’
+
+‘Mamma,’ said Mysie solemnly, after long waiting, ‘she says she had
+rather not be called out of her name.’
+
+‘I thought you had been called Dolly, my dear.’
+
+‘Yes, at home,’ with a strong emphasis.
+
+‘Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to keep to your proper name
+at once. We won’t take liberties with it, till you feel as if you could
+call this home,’ said Lady Merrifield, looking as if she would have
+kissed her niece on the slightest encouragement, but no one ever looked
+less kissable than Dolores Mohun at that moment. Was it not cruel and
+hypocritical to talk of this tiresome multitude as ever making home?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. -- TURNED IN AMONG THEM
+
+
+
+‘Do you like pets?’ asked Mysie eagerly, as her mother left the two
+girls together.
+
+‘I never had any,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Oh how dreadful! Why, old Cockie, and Aga and Begum, the two oldest
+pussies, have been everywhere with us. And, besides, there’s Basto,
+the big Pyrenean dog, and,--oh, here comes little Quiz, mamma’s little
+Maltese--Quiz, Quiz.’
+
+Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or cats; and the little
+spun-glass looking dog smelt about her.
+
+‘I must go and feed my guinea-pig,’ said Mysie; ‘won’t you come? Here
+are some over shoes and Poncho.’
+
+Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but it turned out to be
+a sort of cape, and she discovered that all the cloaks and most of the
+sticks had names of their own. She was afraid to be left standing on the
+steps alone lest any amount of animals or boys should fall on her there,
+so she consented to accompany Mysie, who shuffled along in a pair of
+overshoes vastly too big for her, since she had put her cousin into the
+well-fitting ones. She chattered all the way.
+
+‘We do like this place so. It is the nicest we have ever been in. All
+that is wanting is that papa will buy it, and then we shall never go
+away again.’
+
+It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a homely-looking, roomy,
+red-brick house, covered with creepers--the Virginian one with its
+leaves just beginning to be painted. There was a bright sunny garden
+full of flowers in front, and then a paddock, with cows belonging to a
+farmer, Mysie said. It was her ambition to have them of their own ‘when
+papa came home,’ when all good things were to happen. Behind there were
+large stable-yards and offices, too large for Lady Merrifield’s one
+horse and one pony, and thus available for the children’s menagerie of
+rabbits, guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like. On the way Mysie was only
+too happy to explain the family as she called it, when she had recovered
+from her astonishment that Dolores, always living in England, could
+not ‘count up her cousins.’ ‘Why they always had been shown their
+photographs on a Sunday evening after the Bible pictures, and even
+little Primrose knew all the likeness, even of those she had never
+seen.’
+
+The catalogue of names and ages followed.
+
+Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, and a sense that one
+Maude was worth all the eight put together with whom she was called
+on to be familiar. She found herself standing in a court, rather
+grass-grown, where Gillian, with little Primrose by her side, was
+flinging peas to a number of pigeons, grey, white, and brown, who
+fluttered round her. Valetta and Fergus were on the granary steps,
+throwing meal and sop mixed together to a host of cackling, struggling
+fowls, who tried to leap over each other’s backs. Wilfred seemed busy at
+some hutches where some rabbits twitched their noses at cabbage leaves.
+Mysie proceeded to minister to some black and rust-coloured guinea-pigs,
+which Dolores thought very ugly, uninteresting, and odorous.
+
+Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, and cats and kittens
+parading before people’s feet, so that Dolores felt as if she had
+been turned into a den of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again
+venturing into the court at ‘feeding-time.’ A big bell gathered all the
+children up together into a race to the house. There was another scurry
+to change shoes and wash hands, and then Mysie conducted her cousin
+into a large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the ground floor, with deep
+windows, and numerous little, solid-looking deal tables. There were Lady
+Merrifield and a young lady in spectacles, to whom Dolores was presented
+as ‘your new pupil,’ and every one sat down at one of the little tables,
+on which there were Bibles and Prayer-books.
+
+Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her. Dolores found
+a table ready for her with the books. A passage in the New Testament was
+given out and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, which was
+the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady Merrifield gave a short lesson
+on it, asking questions, and causing references to be found, according
+to a book of notes, she had ready at hand.
+
+‘Just like a charity school,’ thought Dolores, when she was able to
+glance at the time-table, and saw that two days in the week there was
+Old Testament, two days New, one day Catechism, one day Prayer-book.
+Only half an hour was thus appropriated, but to her mind it was an
+old-fashioned waste of time, and very tiresome.
+
+Then came a ring at the door-bell. ‘Mr. Poulter,’ she heard, and to her
+amazement, she found that Gillian and Mysie, as well as their brothers,
+had Latin lessons in the dining-room with the curate. The two girls and
+Fergus only went to him every other day, Wilfred every day, as Gillian
+was learning Greek and mathematics. What was Dolores to do?
+
+‘Have you done any Latin, my dear?’ asked her aunt.
+
+‘Not yet. Father wished to be quite convinced that the professor was a
+good scholar,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Very well. We will wait a little,’ said Aunt Lilias, and Dolores
+indignantly thought that she was amused.
+
+Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-room, whither her mother
+followed with Primrose’s little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano to
+Valetta, and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss Vincent
+examined the new-comer, which she did by giving her some questions to
+answer in writing, and some French and German to translate and parse
+also in writing.
+
+The music was inconvenient to a girl who had always prepared her work
+alone. She could do the language work easily, but the questions teased
+her. They seemed to her of no use, and quite out of her beat. No dates,
+none of the subject she had specially got up. Why, if Miss Vincent did
+not know that people were not to be expected to answer stupid questions
+about history quite out of their own line, that was her fault.
+
+She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top of her pen till
+her aunt came back, and there was a change in occupations all round,
+resulting in her having to read French aloud, which she knew she did
+well; but it was provoking to find that Gillian read quite as well, and
+knew a word at which she had made a shot, and a wrong one.
+
+She heard the observation pass between her aunt and the governess,
+‘Languages fair, but she seems to have very little general information.’
+
+General information, indeed! Just as if she who had lived in London,
+gone to lectures, and travelled on the Continent, must not know more
+than these children cast up and down in a soldier’s life; and as if
+her Fraulein, with all her diplomas, must not be far superior to a
+mere little daily governess, and a mother! It was all for the sake of
+depreciating her.
+
+At twelve o’clock, to her further indignation, she found there was to be
+an hour of reading aloud and of needlework-actual plain needlework. The
+three girls were making under-garments for themselves; and on Dolores
+proving to have no work of any sort, her aunt sent Gillian to the
+drawer, and produced a child’s pinafore, which she was desired to hem.
+Each, however, had a quarter of an hour’s reading aloud of history to do
+in turn, all from one big book, a history of Rome, and there was a map
+hung up over the black board, where they were in turn to point to the
+places mentioned. Before Gillian began reading, the date, and something
+about the former lesson was required to be told by the children, and
+it came quite readily, Valetta especially declaring that she did love
+Pyrrhus, which the others seemed to think very bad taste.
+
+Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and thought it foolish to
+study anything that did not tell in a Cambridge examination; but she
+supposed they knew no better down there; and when it came to her turn
+to read, she mangled the names so, that Val burst out laughing when she
+spoke of A-pious-Claudius. Lady Merrifield hushed this at once, and the
+girl read in a bewildered manner, and as one affronted. She saw he aunt
+looking at her piece of hemming, which, to say the truth, would not have
+done credit to Primrose, and the recollection came across her of all
+the oppressed orphans who had been made household drudges, so that her
+reading did not become more intelligible. As the clock struck one, a
+warning gong was heard; everybody jumped up, the work was folded away,
+and with the obeisance at the door, Gillian and Val ran away.
+
+Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to tidy the room; and
+Lady Merrifield said to Dolores--
+
+‘I must teach you how to hold your needle tomorrow, my dear.’
+
+‘I hate work,’ responded Dolores.
+
+‘Val does not like it,’ said her aunt; ‘nor indeed did I at your age;
+but one cannot be an independent woman without being able to take care
+of one’s own clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn
+better than I did. Do you like a take a run with Mysie before dinner?
+Or there is the amusing shelf. Books may be taken out after one o’clock,
+and they must be put back at eight, or they are confiscated for the
+ensuing day,’ she added, pointing to a paper below where this sentence
+was written.
+
+Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to make friends with
+the books than with the cousins. There were fewer than she expected, and
+nothing like so many absolute stories as she was used to reading with
+Maude Sefton.
+
+‘Those are such grown-up books,’ she said to Mysie, who came to assist
+her choice, and pointed to the upper shelves.
+
+‘Oh, but grown-up books are nicest!’ returned Mysie; ‘at least, when
+they don’t begin being stupid and marrying too soon. They must do it at
+last to get out of the story, and it’s nicer than dying, but they can
+have lots of nice adventures first. But here are the ‘Feats on the
+Fiords’ and the ‘Crofton Boys’ and ‘Water Babies,’ and all the volumes
+of ‘Aunt Judy,’ if you like the younger sort. Or the dear, dear ‘Thorn
+Fortress;’ that’s good for young and old.’
+
+‘Haven’t you any books of your own?’
+
+‘Oh yes; this ‘Thorn Fortress’ is Val’s, and ‘A York and a Lancaster
+Rose’ is mine, but whenever any one gives us a book, if it is not a
+weeny little gem like Gill’s ‘Christian Year,’ or my ‘Little Pillow,’ or
+Val’s ‘Children in the Wood,’ we bring it to mother, and if it is nice,
+we keep it here, for every one to read. If it is just rather silly, and
+stupid, we may read it once, and then she keeps it; and if it is very
+silly indeed, she puts it out of the way.’
+
+Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal.
+
+‘Have you got many books?’
+
+‘Yes; but I don’t mean to have them knocked about by all the boys, nor
+put out of the way neither.’
+
+‘Mamma said we were to be all like sisters,’ said Mysie, with rather a
+craving for the new books; but Dolores tossed up her head and said--
+
+‘We can’t be. It’s nonsense to say so.’
+
+To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady Merrifield, who was looking
+at some exercises that Miss Vincent had laid before her.
+
+‘Mamma,’ she said, ‘is it fair that Dolores should read our books, if
+she won’t give you up hers to look over, and be like ours?’
+
+‘Mysie,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘you can’t expect Dolores to like all
+our home plans till she is used to them. No, my dear, you need not be
+afraid; you shall keep your books in your own room, and nobody shall
+meddle with them. I am sure your cousins would not wish to be so unkind
+as to deprive you of the use of theirs.’
+
+By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take ‘Tom Brown,’ it was
+time for the general flight to prepare for dinner, and she found her
+room made to look very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her books and
+little knickknacks had been put out, not quite as she preferred, but
+still so as to make the place seem like her own. She was pleased enough
+to be quite gracious to Mysie and Val who came to visit her, and to
+offer to let them read any of her books; when they both thanked her and
+said--
+
+‘If mamma lets us.’
+
+‘Oh, then you won’t have them,’ said Dolores; ‘I’m not going to let her
+have my books to take away.’
+
+‘You don’t think she would take them away, when she said she wouldn’t?’
+said Mysie, hotly.
+
+‘Why, what would she do if she didn’t happen to approve of them?’
+
+‘Only tell us not to read them.’
+
+‘And wouldn’t you?’
+
+‘Why, Dolores!’ in such a tone as made her ashamed of her question; and
+she said, ‘Well, father never makes any fuss about what I read. He has
+other things to think of.’
+
+‘How do you get books, then?’
+
+‘I buy them. And Maude Sefton, she’s my great friend, has lots given to
+her, but nobody bothers about reading them. They aren’t grown-up books,
+you know.’
+
+‘How stupid,’ said Val. ‘You had better read the ‘Talisman,’ and then
+you’ll see how nice a grown-up book is.’
+
+‘The ‘Talisman!’ Why, Maude Sefton’s brother had to get it up for his
+holiday task, and he said it was all rot and bosh.’
+
+‘What a horridly stupid boy he must be,’ returned Mysie. ‘Why, I
+remember when Jasper once had the ‘Talisman’ to do, and the big ones
+were so delighted. Mamma read it out, and I was just old enough to
+listen. I remembered all about Sir Kenneth and Roswal.’
+
+‘Tom Sefton’s not stupid!’ said Dolores, in wrath; ‘but--but the book is
+stupid and out of date! I heard father and the professor say it was gone
+by.’
+
+Mysie and Valetta looked perfectly astounded, and Dolores pursued her
+advantage.
+
+‘Of course it is all very well for you that have never lived in London,
+nor had any advantages.’
+
+‘But we have advantages!’ cried Val.
+
+‘You don’t know what advantages are,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘There’s the gong,’ cried Mysie, and down they all plunged into the
+dining-room, where the family were again collected, with Hal at one end
+and his mother at the other.
+
+Dolores was amazed when, at the first pause, after every one was help,
+Valetta’s voice arose.
+
+‘Mamma, what are advantages?’
+
+‘Don’t you know, Val?’
+
+‘Dolores says we haven’t any. And I said we have. And she says I don’t
+know what advantages are.’
+
+Hal and Gillian were both laughing with all their might. Their mother
+kept her countenance, and said--
+
+‘I suppose every one has advantages of some sort, and perhaps without
+knowing them.’
+
+‘I’m sure I know,’ cried Fergus.
+
+‘Well, what are they?’ asked Harry.
+
+‘Having mamma!’ cried the little boy.
+
+‘Hear, hear! That’s right, Fergy man! Couldn’t be better!’ cried Harry,
+and there was a general acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie with
+the fear that her motherless cousin might feel the contrast, and, though
+against rules, she whispered--
+
+‘She will make you like one of us.’
+
+‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ returned Dolores, a little contemptuously.
+
+‘What did you mean?’ said Mysie.
+
+‘Why, you’ve no classes, nor lectures, nor master, and only just a mere
+daily governess.’
+
+Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her neighbour, but Mysie
+demanded--
+
+‘What, do you want to be doing lessons all day long?’
+
+‘No, but good governesses never are daily!’
+
+‘That’s a pity,’ said Gillian, turning round on her. ‘Perhaps you
+don’t know that Miss Vincent has a First Class Cambridge Certificate in
+everything, and is daily, because she likes to live with her mother.’
+
+‘I think,’ added Lady Merrifield, with a smile, ‘that Dolores has been
+in the way of seeing more clever people, and getting superior teaching
+of some kind, but we will do the best we can for her, and try not to let
+her miss many advantages.’
+
+Dolores felt a little abashed, and decidedly angry at being put in the
+wrong.
+
+The elders kindly turned away the general attention from her. There was
+a great deal of merry family fun going on, which was quite like a new
+language to her. Fergus and Primrose wanted to go out in search of
+blackberries. Gillian undertook to drive them in the cart, but as the
+donkey had once or twice refused to cross a little stream of water that
+traversed the road, the brothers foretold that she would ignominiously
+come back again.
+
+‘Gill and water are perilous!’ observed Hal.
+
+‘Jack’s not here,’ said Gillian; ‘besides, it is down, not up the hill,
+and I’m sure I don’t want to draw a pail of water.’
+
+‘No--Sancho will do that.’
+
+‘The gong will sound and sound, buzz and roar,’ said Wilfred. ‘No Gill!
+no little ones! We shall send out and find them stuck fast in the lane,
+Sancho with his feet spread out wide, Gill with three or four sticks
+lying broken on the road round her, the kids reduced to eating
+blackberries like the children in the wood.’
+
+‘Don’t Fred,’ said Gillian. ‘You’ll frighten them.’
+
+‘Little donkeys!’ said Wilfred.
+
+‘If they were, we shouldn’t want Sancho,’ said Val.
+
+It was not a very sublime bit of wit, but there was a great laugh at
+it all round the table. Val and Fergus declared they would go too, till
+they heard that Nurse Halfpenny said she would not let the little ones
+go out without her to tear their clothes to pieces.
+
+Every one unanimously declared that would be no fun at all, and turned
+to mamma to beg her to forbid nurse to come out and spoil everything.
+
+‘That’s just her view,’ said mamma, laughing; ‘she thinks you spoil
+everything.’
+
+‘Oh, that’s clothes! Spoiling fun is worse.’
+
+‘But were you really going with the old Halfpenny, Gill?’ said Mysie,
+turning to her.
+
+‘Yes,’ said Gillian. ‘You know I can manage her pretty well when it is
+only the little ones and they wouldn’t have any pleasure otherwise.’
+
+‘Oh come, Gill,’ intreated Fergus, ‘or nurse will make us sit in the
+donkey-cart all the time while Lois picks the blackberries!’
+
+‘Mamma, do tell her not to come,’ intreated Valetta, and more of them
+joined in with her.
+
+‘No, my dears, I don’t like to vex her when she thinks she is doing her
+duty.’
+
+‘She wouldn’t come if you did, mamma,’ and there was a general outcry
+of intreaty that mamma would come with them, and defend them from Mrs.
+Halfpenny, as Fergus, who was rather a formal little fellow, expressed
+it, and mamma, after a little consideration, consented to drive the
+pony-carriage in that direction, and to announce to Nurse Halfpenny that
+she herself would take charge of the children. Whereupon there was a
+whoop and a war-dance of jubilee, quite overwhelming to Dolores, who
+could not but privately ask Mysie if Nurse Halfpenny was so very cross.
+
+‘Awfully,’ said Mysie, and Wilfred added--
+
+‘As savage as a bear with a sore head.’
+
+‘Like Mrs. Crabtree?’ asked Dolores.
+
+‘Exactly. Jasper called her so when he wanted to lash her up, till at
+lash she got hold of his ‘Holiday House’ and threw it into the sea, and
+it was in Malta and we couldn’t get another,’ said Mysie.
+
+‘And haven’t you one?’
+
+‘Yes, Gill and I save for it; but mamma only let us have it on condition
+we made a solemn promise never to tease nurse about it.’
+
+‘And does she go at you with that dreadful thing--what’s it name--the
+tawse?’
+
+‘Ah! you’ll soon know,’ said Wilfred.
+
+‘No, no; nonsense, Fred,’ said Mysie, as Dolores’ face worked with
+consternation. ‘She never hits us, not if we are ever so tiresome. Papa
+and mamma would not let her.’
+
+‘But why do they let her be so dreadful? Maude’s nurse used to be horrid
+and slap her, and when her mother found it out the woman was sent away
+directly.’
+
+Nurse Halfpenny isn’t that sort,’ said Mysie. ‘Her husband was papa’s
+colour-sergeant, and he got a sun-stroke and died, and then she came
+when Gillian was just born, and so weak and tiny that she would never
+have lived if nurse hadn’t watched her day and night, and so Gillian’s
+her favourite, except the youngest, and she is ever so good, you know.
+I’ve heard the ladies, when we were with the dear old 111th, telling
+mamma how they envied her her trustworthy treasure.’
+
+‘I’m sure they might have had her at half-price,’ said Wilfred. ‘She’s
+be dear at a farthing!’
+
+At that moment Mrs. Halfpenny’s voice was heard demanding if it were
+really her ladyship’s pleasure to go out, fatiguing herself to the very
+death with all the children rampaging about her and tearing themselves
+to pieces, if not poisoning themselves with all sorts of nasty berries.
+
+‘Indeed I’ll take care of them and bring them back safe to you,’
+responded her ladyship, very much in the tone of one of her own children
+making promises. ‘Put them on their brown hollands and they can’t come
+to much harm.’
+
+‘Well, if it’s your wish, ma’am, my leddy; what must be, must, but I
+know how it will be--you’ll come back tired out, fit to drop, and Miss
+Val and Miss Primrose won’t have a rag fit to be seen on them. But if
+it’s your will, what must be must, for you’re no better than a bairn
+yourself, general’s lady though you be, and G.C.B.’
+
+‘No, nurse, you’ll be G.C.B.--Grand Commander of the Bath--when we come
+home,’ called out Hall, who was leaning on the banister at the bottom,
+and there was a general laugh, during which Dolly tardily climbed the
+stairs, so tardily that her aunt, meeting her, asked whether she was
+still tired, and if she would rather have the afternoon to arrange her
+room.
+
+She said ‘yes,’ but not ‘thank you,’ and went on, relieved that Mysie
+did not offer to stay and help her, and yet rather offended at being
+left alone, while all the others went their own way. She heard them
+pattering and clattering, shouting and calling up and down the passages,
+and then came a great silence, while they could be seen going down the
+drive, some on foot, some in the pony-chaise or donkey-cart.
+
+Her things had all been unpacked and put in order, and her room had
+a very cheerful window. It was prettily furnished with fresh pink and
+white dimity, and choice-looking earthenware, but to London eyes like
+those of Dolores it seemed very old-fashioned and what she called ‘poked
+up.’ The paper was ugly, the chimney-piece was a narrow, painting thing,
+of the same dull, stone-colour as the door and the window-frame. And
+then the clear air, the perfect stillness, the absence of anything
+moving in the view from the window gave the citybred child a sense of
+dreadful loneliness and dreariness as she sat on the side of her bed,
+with one foot under her, gazing dolefully round her, and in he head
+composing her own memoirs.
+
+‘Fully occupied with their own plans and amusements, the lonely orphan
+was left in solitude. Her aunt knew not how her heart ached after the
+home she had left, but the machine of the family went its own way and
+trod her under its wheels.’
+
+This was such a fine sentence that it was almost a comfort, and she
+thought of writing it to Maude Sefton, but as she got up to fetch her
+writing-case from the schoolroom, she saw that her books were standing
+just in the way she did not like, and with all the volumes mixed up
+together. So she tumbled them all out of the shelves on the floor, and
+at that moment Mrs. Halfpenny looked into the room.
+
+‘Well, to be sure!’ she exclaimed, ‘when me and Lois have been working
+at them books all the morning.’
+
+‘They were all nohow--as I don’t like them,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Oh, very well, please yourself then, miss, if that’s all the thanks you
+have in your pocket, you may put them up your own way, for all I care.
+Only my lady will have the young ladies’ rooms kept neat and orderly, or
+they lose marks for it.’
+
+‘I don’t want any help,’ said Dolores, crossly, and Mrs. Halfpenny shut
+the door with a bang. ‘The menials are insulting me,’ said Dolores to
+herself, and a tear came to her eye, while all the time there was a
+certain mournful satisfaction in being so entirely the heroine of a
+book.
+
+She went to work upon her books, at first hotly and sharply, and very
+carefully putting the tallest in the centre so as to form a gradual
+ascent with the tops and not for the world letting a second volume stand
+before its elder brother, but she soon got tired, took to peeping at
+one or two parting gifts which she had not yet been able to read, and at
+last got quite absorbed in the sorrows of a certain Clare, whose golden
+hair was cut short by her wicked aunt, because it outshone her cousin’s
+sandy locks. There was reason to think that a tress of this same golden
+hair would lead to her recognition by some grandfather of unknown
+magnificence, as exactly like that of his long-lost Claribel, and this
+might result in her assuming splendours that would annihilate the aunt.
+Things seemed tending to a fracture of the ice under the cruellest
+cousin of all, and her rescue by Clare, when they would be carried
+senseless into the great house, and the recognition of Clare and the
+discomfiture of her foes would take place. How could Dolores shut the
+book at such a critical moment!
+
+So there she was sitting in the midst of her scattered books, when the
+galloping and scampering began again, and Mysie knocked at the door
+to tell her there were pears, apples, biscuits, and milk in the
+dining-room, and that after consuming them, lessons had to be learnt for
+the next day, and then would follow amusements, evening toilette, seven
+o’clock tea, and either games or reading aloud till bedtime. As to the
+books, Mysie stood aghast.
+
+‘I thought nurse and Lois had done them all for you.’
+
+‘They did them all wrong, so I took them down.’
+
+Oh, dear! We must put them in, or there’ll be a report.’
+
+‘A report!’
+
+‘Yes, Nurse Halfpenny reports us whenever she doesn’t find our rooms
+tidy, and then we get a bad mark. Perhaps mamma wouldn’t give you one
+this first day, but it is best to make sure. Shall I help you, or you
+won’t have time to eat any pears?’
+
+Dolores was thankful for help, and the books were scrambled in anyhow
+on the shelves; for Mysie’s good nature was endangering her share of the
+afternoon’s gouter, though perhaps it consoled her that her curiosity
+was gratified by a hasty glance at the backs of her cousin’s
+story-books.
+
+By the time the two girls got down to the dining-table, every one had
+left the room, and there only remained one doubtful pear, and three
+baked apples, besides the loaf and the jug of milk. Mysie explained that
+not being a regular meal, no one was obliged to come punctually to it,
+or to come at all, but these who came tardily might fare the worse. As
+to the blackberries, for which Dolores inquired, the girls were going
+to make jam of them themselves the next day; but Mysie added, with
+an effort, she would fetch some, as her cousin had had none in the
+gathering.
+
+‘Oh no, thank you; I hate blackberries,’ said Dolores, helping herself
+to an apple.
+
+‘Do you?’ said Mysie, blankly. ‘We don’t. They are such fun. You can’t
+think how delicious the great overhanging clusters are in the lane. Some
+was up so high that Hal had to stand up in the cart to reach them, and
+to take Fergus up on his shoulder. We never had such a blackberrying as
+with mamma and Hal to help us. And only think, a great carriage came by,
+with some very grand people in it; we think it was the Dean; and they
+looked down the lane and stared, so surprised to see what great mind to
+call out, ‘Fee, faw, fum.’ You know nothing makes such a good giant
+as Fergus standing on Hal’s shoulders, and a curtain over them to hide
+Hal’s face. Oh dear, I wish I hadn’t told you! You would have been a new
+person to show it to.’
+
+Dolores made very little answer, finished her apple, and followed to
+the schoolroom, where an irregular verb, some geography, and some dates
+awaited her.
+
+Then followed another rush of the populace for the evening meal of the
+live stock, but in this Dolores was too wary to share. She made her way
+up to her retreat again, and tried to lose the sense of her trouble
+and loneliness in a book. Then came the warning bell, and a prodigious
+scuffling, racing and chasing, accompanied by yells as of terror and
+roars as of victory, all cut short by the growls of Mrs. Halfpenny.
+Everything then subsided. The world was dressing; Dolores dressed too,
+feeling hurt and forlorn at no one’s coming to help her, and yet worried
+when Mysie arrived with orders from Mrs. Halfpenny to come to her to
+have her sash tied.
+
+‘I think a servant ought to come to me. Caroline always does,’ said the
+only daughter with dignity.
+
+‘She can’t, for she is putting Primrose to bed. Oh, it’s so delicious to
+see Prim in her bath,’ said Mysie, with a little skip. ‘Make haste, or
+we shall miss her, the darling.’
+
+Dolores did not feel pressed to behold the spectacle, and not being
+in the habit of dressing without assistance, she was tardy, and Mysie
+fidgeted about and nearly distracted her. Thus, when she reached the
+nursery, Primrose was already in her little white bed-gown, and was
+being incited by Valetta to caper about on her cot, like a little
+acrobat, as her sisters said, while Mrs. Halfpenny declared that ‘they
+were making the child that rampageous, she should not get her to sleep
+till midnight.’
+
+They would have been turned out much sooner, and Primrose hushed into
+silence, if nurse’s soul had not been horrified by the state of Dolores’
+hair and the general set of her garments.
+
+‘My certie!’ she exclaimed--a dreadful exclamation in the eyes of the
+family, who knew it implied that in all her experience Mrs. Halfpenny
+had never known the like! And taking Dolores by the hand, she led the
+wrathful and indignant girl back into her bedroom, untied and tied,
+unbuttoned and buttoned, brushed and combed in spite of the second bell
+ringing, the general scamper, and the sudden apparition of Mysie and
+Val, whom she bade run away and tell her leddyship that ‘Miss Mohoone
+should come as soon as she was sorted, but she ought to come up early
+to have her hair looked to, for ‘twas shame to see how thae fine London
+servants sorted a motherless bairn.’
+
+Dolores felt herself insulted; she turned red all over, with feelings
+the old Scotchwoman could not understand. She expected to hear the
+message roared out to the whole assembly round the tea-table, but Mysie
+had discretion enough to withhold her sister from making it public.
+
+The tea itself, though partaken of by Lady Merrifield, seemed an
+indignity to the young lady accustomed to late dinners. After it, the
+whole family played at ‘dumb crambo.’ Dolores was invited to join,
+and instructed to ‘do the thing you think it is;’ but she was entirely
+unused to social games, and thought it only ridiculous and stupid when
+the word being a rhyme to ite, Fergus gave rather too real a blow to
+Wilfred, and Gillian answered, ‘’Tis not smite;’ Wilfred held out a
+hand, and was told, ‘’Tis not right;’ Val flourished in the air as if
+holding a string, and was informed that ‘kite’ was wrong; when Hal
+ran away as if pursued by Fergus by way of flight; and Mysie performed
+antics which she was finally obliged to explain were those of a sprite.
+Dolores could not recollect anything, and only felt annoyed at being
+made to feel stupid by such nonsense, when Mysie tried to make her a
+present of a suggestion by pointing to the back of a letter. Neither
+write nor white would come into her head, though little Fergus
+signalized himself, just before he was swept off to bed, by seizing a
+pen and making strokes!
+
+After his departure, Lady Merrifield read aloud ‘The Old oak Staircase,’
+which had been kept to begin when Dolores came, Hal taking the book in
+turn with his mother. And so ended Dolores’ first day of banishment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. -- THE FIRST WALK
+
+
+
+‘What a lot of letters for you, mamma!’ cried Mysie.
+
+‘Papa!’ exclaimed Fergus and Primrose.
+
+‘No, it is not the right day, my dears. But here is a letter from Aunt
+Ada.’
+
+‘Oh!’ in a different tone.
+
+‘She writes for Aunt Jane. They will come down here next Monday because
+Aunt Jane is wanted to address the girls at the G.F.S. festival on
+Tuesday.’
+
+‘Aunt Jane seems to have taken to public speaking,’ said Harry. ‘It
+would be rather a lark to hear her.’
+
+‘You may have a chance,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘for here is a note from
+Mrs. Blackburn to ask if I will be so very kind as to let them have the
+festival here. They had reckoned upon Tillington Park, where they have
+always had it before, but they hear that all the little Tillingtons have
+the measles, and they don’t think it safe to venture there.’
+
+‘It will be great fun!’ said Gillian. ‘We will have all sorts of games,
+only I’m afraid they will be much stupider than the Irish girls.’
+
+‘And ever so much stupider than the dear 111th children,’ sighed Mysie.
+
+‘Aren’t they all great big girls?’ asked Valetta, disconsolately.
+
+‘I believe twelve years old is the limit,’ said her mother.
+‘Twelve-year-old girls have plenty of play in them, Vals, haven’t they,
+Mysie? Let me see--two hundred and thirty of them.’
+
+‘For you to feast?’ asked Harry.
+
+‘Oh, no--that cost comes out of their own funds, Mrs. Blackburn takes
+care to tell me, and Miss Hacket will find some one in Siverfold who
+will provide tables and forms and crockery. I must go down and talk to
+Miss Hacket as soon as lessons are over. Or perhaps it would save time
+and trouble if I wrote and asked her to come up to luncheon and see the
+capabilities of the place. Why, what’s the matter?’ pausing at the blank
+looks.
+
+‘The jam, mamma--the blackberry jam!’ cried Valetta.
+
+‘Well?’
+
+‘We can’t do it without Gill, and she will have to be after that Miss
+Constance,’ explained Val.
+
+‘Oh! never mind. She won’t stay all the afternoon,’ said Gillian,
+cheerfully. ‘Luncheon people don’t.’
+
+‘Yes, but then there will be lessons to be learnt.’
+
+‘Look here, Val,’ said Gillian, ‘if you and Mysie will learn your
+lessons for tomorrow while I’m bound to Miss Con., I’ll do mine some
+time in the evening, and be free for the jam when she is gone.’
+
+‘The dear delicious jam!’ cried Val, springing about upon her chair; and
+Lady Merrifield further said--
+
+‘I wonder whether Mysie and Dolores would like to take the note down.
+They could bring back a message by word of mouth.’
+
+‘Oh, thank you, mamma!’ cried Mysie.
+
+‘Then I will write the note as soon as we have done breakfast. Don’t
+dawdle, Fergus boy.’
+
+‘Mayn’t I go?’ demanded Wilfred.
+
+‘No, my dear. It is your morning with Mr. Poulter. And you must take
+care not to come back later than eleven, Mysie dear; I cannot have him
+kept waiting. Dolores, do you like to go?’
+
+‘Yes, please,’ said Dolores, partly because it was at any rate gain
+to escape from that charity-school lesson in the morning, and partly
+because Valetta was looking at her in the ardent hope that she would
+refuse the privilege of the walk, and it therefore became valuable;
+but there was so little alacrity in her voice that her aunt asked her
+whether she were quite rested and really liked the walk, which would be
+only half a mile to the outskirts of the town.
+
+Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, and replied that she
+was quite well, and didn’t mind.
+
+So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were sent off to get ready,
+while Aunt Lilias wrote her note in pencil at the corner of the table,
+which she never left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their
+meal; but she had to silence a storm at the ‘didn’t mind’--Gillian even
+venturing to ask how she could send one to whom it was evidently no
+pleasure to go. ‘I think she likes it more than she shows,’ said the
+mother, ‘and she wants air, and will settle to her lessons the better
+for it. What’s that, Val?’
+
+‘It was my turn, mamma,’ said Valetta, in an injured voice.
+
+‘It will be your turn next, Val,’ said her mother, cheerfully. ‘Dolores
+comes between you and Mysie, so she must take her place accordingly. And
+today we grant her the privilege of the new-comer.’
+
+Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, while she was going
+upstairs to put on her hat, the recollection had not occurred to her of
+one of the victim’s of an aunt’s cruelty who was always made to run on
+errands while her favoured cousins were at their studies. Was this the
+beginning? Somehow, though her better sense knew this was a foolish
+fancy, she had a secret pleasure in pitying herself, and posing to
+herself as a persecuted heroine. And then she was greatly fretted
+to find the housemaid in her room, looking as if no one else had any
+business there. What was worse, she could not find her jacket. She
+pulled out all her drawers with fierce, noisy jerks, and then turned
+round on the maid, sharply demanding--
+
+‘Who has taken my jacket?’
+
+‘I’m sure I don’t know, Miss Dollars. You’d best ask Mrs. Halfpenny.’
+
+‘If--’ but at that moment Mysie ran in, holding the jacket in her hand.
+‘I saw it in the nursery,’ she said, triumphantly. ‘Nurse had taken it
+to mend! Come along. Where’s your hat?’
+
+But there was pursuit; Mrs. Halfpenny was at the door. ‘Young ladies,
+you are not going out of the policy in that fashion.’
+
+‘Mamma sent us. Mamma wants us to take a note in a hurry. Only to Miss
+Hacket,’ pleaded Mysie, as Mrs. Halfpenny laid violent hands on her
+brown Holland jacket, observing--
+
+‘My leddy never bade ye run off mair like a wild worricow than a general
+officer’s daughter, Miss Mysie. What’s that? Only Miss Hacket, do you
+say? You should respect yourself and them you come of mair than to show
+yourself to a blind beetle in an unbecoming way. ‘Tis well that there’s
+one in the house that knows what is befitting. Miss Dollars, you stand
+still; I must sort your necktie before you go. ‘Tis all of a wisp. Miss
+Mysie, you tell your mamma that I should be fain to know her pleasure
+about Miss Dollars’ frocks. She’ve scarce got one--coloured or
+mourning--that don’t want altering.’
+
+Mrs. Halfpenny always caused Dolores such extreme astonishment and awe
+that she obeyed her instantly, but to be turned about and tidied by an
+authoritative hand was extremely disagreeable to the independent young
+lady. Caroline had never treated her thus, being more willing to permit
+untidiness than to endure her temper. She only durst, after the pair
+were released, remonstrate with Mysie on being termed Miss Dollars.
+
+‘They can’t make out your name,’ said Mysie. ‘I tried to teach Lois, but
+nurse said she had no notion of new-fangled nonsense names.’
+
+‘I’m sure Valetta and Primrose are worse.’
+
+‘Ah! but Val was born at Malta, and mamma had always loved the Grand
+Master La Valetta so much, and had written verses about him when she was
+only sixteen. And Primrose was named after the first primrose mamma had
+seen for twelve years--the first one Val and I had ever seen.’
+
+‘They called me Miss Mohun at home.’
+
+‘Yes, but we can’t here, because of Aunt Jane.’
+
+All this was chattered forth on the stairs before the two girls reached
+the dining-room, where Mysie committed the feeding of her pets to Val,
+and received the note, with fresh injunctions to come home by eleven,
+and bring word whether Miss Hacket and Miss Constance would both come to
+luncheon.
+
+‘Oh dear!’ sighed Gillian, and there was a general groan round the
+table.
+
+‘It can’t be helped, my dear.’
+
+‘Oh no, I know it can’t,’ said Gillian, resignedly.
+
+‘You see,’ said Mysie. ‘Yes, come along, Basto dear. You see Gill has to
+be--down, Basto, I say!--a young lady when.... Never mind him, Dolores,
+he won’t hurt. When Miss Constance Hacket and--leave her alone, Basto, I
+say!--and she is such a goose. Not you, Dolores, but Miss Constance.’
+
+‘Oh that dog! I wish you would not take him.’
+
+‘Not take dear old Basto! Why ‘tis such a treat for him to get a walk in
+the morning--the delight of his jolly old black heart. Isn’t he a dear
+old fellow? and he never hurt anybody in his life! It’s only setting
+off! He will quiet down in a minute; but I couldn’t disappoint him.
+Could I, my old man?’
+
+Never having lived with animals nor entered into their feelings, Dolores
+could not understand how a dog’s pleasure could be preferred to her
+comfort, and felt a good deal hurt, though Basto’s antics subsided as
+soon as they were past the inner gate shutting in the garden from the
+paddock, which was let out to a farmer. Mysie, however, ran on as usual
+with her stream of information--
+
+‘The Miss Hacket were sister or daughters or something to some old man
+who used to be clergyman here, and they are all married up but these
+two, and they’ve got the dearest little house you ever saw. They had
+a nephew in the 111th, and so they came and called on us at once. Miss
+Hacket is a regular old dear, but we none of us can bear Miss Constance,
+except that mamma says we ought to be sorry for her because she leads
+such a confined life. Miss Hacket and Aunt Jane always do go on so about
+the G.F.S. They both are branch secretaries, you know.’
+
+‘I know! Aunt Jane did bother Mrs. Sefton so that she says she will
+never have another of those G.F.S. girls. She says it is a society for
+interference.’
+
+‘Mamma likes it,’ said Mysie.
+
+‘Oh! but she is only just come.’
+
+‘Yes; but she always looked after the school children at Beechcroft
+before she married, and she and Alethea and Phyllis had the soldiers’
+children up on Sunday. Alethea taught the little drummer boys, and they
+were so funny. I wonder who teaches them now! Gill always goes down
+to help Miss Hacket with her G.F.S. classes. She has one on Sunday
+afternoon, and one on Tuesday for sewing, and she is the only young lady
+in the place who can do plain needlework properly.’
+
+‘Sewing-machines can work. What the use of fussing about it!’
+
+‘They can’t mend,’ said Mysie. ‘Besides, do you know, in the American
+war, all the sewing-machines in the Southern States got out of order,
+and as all the machinery people were in the north, the poor ladies
+didn’t know what to do, and couldn’t work without them.’
+
+‘Sewing-machines are a recent invention,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Oh! you didn’t think I meant the great old War of Independence. No, I
+meant the war about the slaves--secession they called it.’
+
+‘That is not in the history of England,’ said Dolores, as if Mysie had
+no business to look beyond.
+
+‘Why! of course not, when it happened in America. Papa told us about
+it. He read it in some paper, I think. Don’t you like learning things in
+that way?’
+
+‘No. I don’t approve of irregular unsystematic knowledge.’
+
+Dolores has heard her mother say something of this kind, and it came
+into her head most opportunely as a defence of her father--for she would
+not for the world have confessed that he did not talk to her as Sir
+Jasper Merrifield seemed to have done to his children. In fact she
+rather despised the General for so doing.
+
+‘Oh! but it is such fun picking up things out of lesson time!’ said
+Mysie.
+
+‘That is the Edge--,’ Dolores was not sure of the word Edgeworthian,
+so she went on to ‘system. Professor Sefton says he does not approve of
+harassing children with cramming them with irregular information at all
+sorts of times. Let play be play and lessons be lessons, he says, not
+mixed up together, and so Rex and Maude never learnt anything--not a
+letter--till they were seven years old.’
+
+‘How stupid!’ cried Mysie.
+
+‘Maude’s not stupid!’ cried Dolores, ‘nor the professor either! She’s my
+great friend.’
+
+‘I didn’t say she was stupid,’ said Mysie, apologetically, ‘only that
+it must be very stupid not to be able to read till one was seven. Could
+you?’
+
+‘Oh, yes. I can’t remember when I couldn’t read. But Maude used to play
+with a little girl who could read and talk French at five years old, and
+she died of water upon her brain.’
+
+‘Dear me! Primrose can read quite well,’ said Mysie, somewhat alarmed;
+‘but then,’ she went on in a reassured voice, ‘so could all of us except
+Jasper and Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibraltar that
+they were quite stupid while they were there.’
+
+This discussion brought the two girls across the paddock out into a road
+with a broad, neat footpath, where numerous little children were being
+exercised with nurses and perambulators. At first it was bordered by
+fields on either side, but villas soon began to spring up, and presently
+the girls reached what looked like a long, low ‘cottage residence,’ but
+was really two, with a verandah along the front, and a garden divided
+in the middle by a paling covered with canary nasturtium shrubs. The
+verandah on one side was hung with a rich purple pall of the dark
+clematis, on the other by a Gloire de Dijon rose. There were bright
+flower beds, and the dormer windows over the verandah looked like
+smiling eyes under their deep brows of creeper-trimmed verge-board. What
+London-bred Dolores saw was a sight that shocked her--a lady standing
+unbonnetted just beyond the verandah, talking to a girl whose black hat
+and jacket looked what Mysie called ‘very G.F.S.-y.’
+
+The lady did not turn out to be young or beautiful. She was near middle
+age, and looked as if she were far too busy to be ever plump; she had a
+very considerable amount of nose and rather thin, dark hair, done in a
+fashion which, like that of her navy blue linen dress, looked perfectly
+antiquated to Dolores. As she saw the two girls at the gate she came
+down the path eagerly to welcome them.
+
+‘Ah! my dear Mysie! so kind of your dear mother! I thought I should
+hear from her.’ And as she kissed Mysie, she added, ‘And this is the new
+cousin. My dear, I am glad to see you here.’
+
+Dolores thought her own dignified manner had kept off a kiss, not
+knowing that Miss Hacket was far too ladylike to be over-familiar, and
+that there was no need to put on such a forbidding look.
+
+Mysie gave her message and note, but Miss Hacket could not give the
+verbal answer at once till she had consulted her sister. She was not
+sure whether Constance had not made an engagement to play lawn-tennis,
+so they must come in.
+
+There sounded ‘coo-roo-oo coo-roo-oo’ in the verandah, and Mysie cried--
+
+‘Oh, the dear doves!’
+
+Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them when the G.F.S. girl
+arrived, and as Mysie came to a halt in delight at the aspect of a young
+one that had just crept out into public life, the sister was called to
+the window. She was a great deal younger and more of the present day
+in style than her sister, and had pensive-looking grey eyes, with
+a somewhat bored languid manner as she shook hands with the early
+visitors.
+
+The sisters had a little consultation over the note, during which
+Dolores studied them, and Mysie studied the doves, longing to see the
+curious process of feeding the young ones.
+
+When Miss Hacket turned back to her with the acceptance of the
+invitation, she thought she might wait just to help Miss Hacket to put
+in the corn and the sop. Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores.
+
+‘Did you arrive yesterday?’
+
+‘No, the day before.’
+
+‘Ah! it must be a great change to you.’
+
+‘Indeed it is.’
+
+‘This must be the dullest place in England, I think,’ said Miss
+Constance. ‘No variety, no advantages of any kind! And have not you
+lived in London?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘That is my ambition! I once spent six weeks in London, and it was an
+absolute revelation--the opening of another world. And I understand that
+Mr. Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that you saw a great deal of
+his friends.’
+
+‘I used,’ said Dolores, thinking of those days of her mother when she
+was the pet and plaything of the guests, incited to say clever and pert
+things, which then were passed round and embellished till she neither
+knew them nor comprehended them.
+
+‘That is what I pine for!’ exclaimed Miss Constance. ‘Nobody here has
+any ideas. You can’t conceive how borne and prejudiced every one her who
+is used to something better! Don’t you love art needlework?’
+
+‘Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey Gander on a toilet-cover.’
+
+‘Oh! how sweet! We never get any new patterns here! Do come in and see,
+I don’t know which to take; I brought three beginnings home to choose
+from, and I am quite undecided.’
+
+‘Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns,’ said Dolores. ‘Something she gets
+ideas from Lorenzo Dellman--he’s an artist, you know, and a regular
+aesthete! He made her do a dado all sunflowers last year, but they are a
+little gone out now, and are very staring besides, and I think she will
+have some nymphs dancing among almond-trees in blue vases instead, as
+soon as she has designed it.’
+
+‘Isn’t that lovely! Oh! what would I not give for such opportunities? Do
+let me have your opinion.’
+
+So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three patterns, one of
+tall daisies; another of odd-looking doves, one on each side of a red
+Etruscan vase, where the water must have been as much out of their reach
+as that in the pitcher was beyond the crow’s; and a third, of Little
+Bo Peep. Having given her opinion in favour of Bo Peep, she was taken
+upstairs to inspect the young lady’s store of crewels, and choose the
+colours.
+
+Dolores neither knew nor cared anything about fancy work, but to be
+treated as an authority was quite soothing, and she fully believed
+that the mere glimpses she had had of Mrs. Sefton’s work and the shop
+windows, enabled her to give great enlightenment to this poor country
+mouse; so she gladly went to the bedroom, with a muslin-worked
+toilet-cover, embroidered curtains, plates fastened against the wall,
+and table all over knick-knacks, which Miss Constance called her little
+den, where she could study beauty after her own bent, while her sister
+Mary was wholly engrossed with the useful, and could endure nothing but
+the prose of the last century.
+
+Meantime Mysie had forgotten how time flew in her belief that in one
+minute more the young doves would want to be fed, and then in amusement
+at seeing them pursue their parents with low squeaks and flutterings,
+watching, too, the airs and graces, bowing, cooing, and laughing of the
+old ones. When at last she was startled by hearing eleven struck, there
+had to be a great hunt for Dolores in the drawing-room and garden,
+and when at last Miss Hacket’s calls for her sister brought the
+tow downstairs more than ten minutes had passed! Mysie was too much
+dismayed, and in too great a hurry to do anything but cry, ‘Come along,
+Dolores,’ and set off at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner,
+even when Mysie recollected that it was too public a place for running,
+and slackened her pace. Dolores was soon gasping, and with a stitch in
+her side. Mysie would have exclaimed, ‘What were you doing with Miss
+Constance?’ but breathlessness happily prevented it. The way across the
+paddock seemed endless, and Mysie was chafed at having to hold back for
+her companion, who panted in distress, leant against a tree, declared
+she could not go on, she did not care, and then when, Mysie set off
+running, was seized with fright at being left alone in this vast unknown
+space, cried after her and made a rush, soon ending in sobbing breath.
+
+At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just coming out of the
+dining-room greeted them with, ‘A quarter to twelve. Won’t you catch it?
+Oh my!’
+
+‘Are they come?’ said Lady Merrifield, looking out of the schoolroom.
+‘My dear children! Did Miss Hacket keep you?’
+
+‘No, mamma,’ gasped Mysie. ‘At least it was my fault for watching the
+doves.’
+
+‘Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message next time. Mr. Poulter has
+been waiting these twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit to
+take a lesson now. Dolores looks quite done up! I shall send you both
+to lie down on your beds and learn your poetry for an hour. And you must
+write an apology to Mr. Poulter this afternoon. No, don’t go in now. Go
+up at once, Gillian shall bring your books. Does Miss Hacket come?’
+
+‘Yes, mamma,’ said Mysie humbly, looking at Dolores all the time.
+She was too generous to say that part of the delay had been caused by
+looking for her cousin, and having to adapt her pace to the slower one,
+but she decidedly expected the avowal from Dolores, and thought it mean
+not to make it. ‘And, oh, the jam!’ she mourned as she went upstairs.
+While, on the other hand, Dolores considered what she called ‘being sent
+to bed’ an unmerited and unjust sentence given without a hearing; when
+their tardiness had been all Mysie’s fault, not hers. She had no notion
+that her aunt only sent them to lie down, because they looked heated,
+tired, and spent, and was really letting them off their morning’s
+lessons. It was a pity that she felt too forlorn and sullen even to
+complain when Gillian brought up Macaulay’s ‘Armada’ for her to learn
+the first twelve lines, or she might have come to an understanding, but
+all that was elicited from her was a glum ‘No,’ when asked if she knew
+it already. Gillian told her not to keep her dusty boots on the bed, and
+she vouchsafed no answer, for she did not consider Gillian her mistress,
+though, after she was left to herself, she found them so tight and
+hot that she took them off. Then she looked over the verses rather
+contemptuously--she who always learnt German poetry; and she had a great
+mind to assert her independence by getting off the bed, and writing a
+letter to Maude Sefton, describing the narrow stupidity of the whole
+family, and how her aunt, without hearing her, had send her to be for
+Mysie’s fault. However she felt so shaky and tired that she thought she
+had better rest a little first, and somehow she fell fast asleep, and
+was only awakened by the gong. She jumped up in haste, recollecting that
+the delightful sympathizing Miss Constance was coming to luncheon,
+and set her hair and dress to rights eagerly, observing, however, to
+herself, that her horrid aunt was quite capable of imprisoning her all
+the time for not having learnt that stupid poetry.
+
+She hesitated a little where to go when she reached the hall, but the
+schoolroom door was open, and she heard a mournful voice concluding with
+a gasp--
+
+        ‘Our glorious semper eadem, the banner of our pride.’
+
+And Miss Vincent saying, ‘Now, my dear, go and wash your face, and try
+not to be such a dismal spectacle.’
+
+And then Mysie came out, with heavy eyes and a mottled face, showing
+that she had been crying all the time she had been learning, over her
+own fault certainly, but likewise over mamma’s displeasure and Dolly’s
+shabbiness.
+
+‘Well, Dora,’ said Miss Vincent, ‘have you come to repeat your poetry?’
+
+‘No,’ said Dolores. ‘I went to sleep instead.’
+
+‘Oh! I’m glad of that. I wish poor Mysie had done the same. I believe it
+was what Lady Merrifield intended, you both looked so knocked up.’
+
+Dolores cleared up a little at this, especially as Miss Vincent was no
+relation, and she thought it a good time to make her protest against
+mere English.
+
+‘Oh!’ she said. ‘I supposed that was the reason she gave me such a
+stupid, childish, sing-song nursery rhyme to learn. I can say lots of
+Schiller and some Goethe.’
+
+‘I advise you not to let any one hear you call Lord Macaulay’s poem a
+nursery rhyme, or it might never be forgotten,’ said Miss Vincent gaily.
+Then seeing the cloud return to Dolores’s face, she added, ‘You have
+been brought forward in German, I see. We must try to bring your
+knowledge of English literature up to be even with it.’
+
+Dolores liked this better than anything she had yet heard, chiefly
+because she had learnt from her books that governesses were not
+uniformly so cruel as aunts. And besides, she felt that she had been
+spared a public humiliation.
+
+By this time the guests were ringing at the door, and Miss Vincent, with
+her had on, only waiting till their entrance was made to depart. Dolores
+asked whether to go into the drawing-room, and was told that Lady
+Merrifield preferred that the children should only appear in the
+dining-room on the sound of the gong, which was not long in being heard.
+
+The Merrifields were trained not to chatter when there was company at
+table, besides Mysie and Val were in low spirits about the chance of the
+blackberry cookery. Miss Hacket sat on one side of Lady Merrifield, and
+talked about what associates had answered her letters, and what villages
+would send contingents of girls, and it sounded very dull to the
+young people. Miss Constance was next to Hal. She looked amiable and
+sympathetic at Dolores on the opposite side of the table, but discussed
+lawn-tennis tournaments with her neighbour, which was quite as little
+interesting to the general public as was the G.F.S. However, as soon as
+Primrose had said grace, Lady Merrifield proposed to take Miss Hacket
+down to the stable-yard; and the whole train followed excepting the
+two girls, who trusted Hal to see whether their pets would suffer
+inconvenience. However it soon was made evident to Gillian that she was
+not wanted, and that Dolores and Constance had no notion of wandering
+about the paved courts and bare coach-houses, among the dogs and cats,
+guinea-pigs, and fowls. Indeed, Constance, who was at least seven years
+older than Gillian, and a full-blown young lady, dismissed her by saying
+‘that she was going to see Miss Mohun’s books.’
+
+‘Oh, certainly,’ said Gillian, in a voice as though she were rather
+surprised, though much relieved.
+
+So off the friends went together--for of course they were to be friends.
+The Miss Mohun had been uttered in a tone that clearly meant to be asked
+to drop it, so they were to be Dolores and Constance henceforth, if not
+Dolly and Cons. Dolores was such a lovely name that Constance could not
+mangle it, and was sure there was some reason for it. The girl had, in
+fact, been named after a Spanish lady, whom her mother had known and
+admired in early girlhood, and to whom she had made a promise of naming
+her first daughter after her. No doubt Dolores did not know that Mrs.
+Mohun had regretted the childish promise which she had felt bound to
+keep in spite of her husband’s dislike to the name, which he declared
+would be a misfortune to the child.
+
+Dolores was really proud of its peculiarity, and delighted to have any
+one to sympathize with her, in that and a great deal besides, which she
+communicated to her new friend in the window-seat of her room. When
+the two ladies went home, Constance told her sister that ‘dear little
+Dolores was a remarkable character, sadly misunderstood among those
+common-place people, the Merrifields, and unjustly used, too, and she
+should do her best for her!’
+
+Meantime Gillian, finding herself not wanted, had repaired to the
+schoolroom.
+
+‘Oh, it is of no use,’ sighed Mysie, disconsolately. ‘I’ve ever so
+much morning’s work to make up, too. And I never shall! I’ve muzzled my
+head!’
+
+By which remarkable expression Mysie signified that fatigue, crying, and
+dinner had made her brains dull and heavy; but Gillian was a sensible
+elder sister.
+
+‘Don’t try your sum yet, then,’ she said. ‘Practise your scales for half
+an hour, while I do my algebra, and then we’ll go over your German verbs
+together. I’ll tell Miss Vincent, and she wont’ mind, and I think mamma
+will be pleased if you try.’
+
+Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able to work an equation,
+and prepare her Virgil, to the sound of scales, and Mysie was a good
+deal restored by them and by hope.
+
+So when at length Constance had been summoned by her sister, who tore
+herself away from the arrangements, being bound to five-o’clock tea
+elsewhere, Mysie was discovered with a face still rather woe-begone, but
+hopeful and persevering, and though there still was a ‘bill of parcels’
+where 11 and 3/4 lbs. of mutton at 13 and 1/2d. per lb. refused to come
+right, Lady Merrifield kissed her, said she had been a diligent child,
+and sent her off prancing in bliss to the old ‘still-room’ stove, where
+they were allowed a fire, basins, spoons, and strainers, and where the
+sugar lay in a snowy heap, and the blackberries in a sanguine pile.
+
+‘There’s partiality!’ thought Dolores, and scowled, as she stood at the
+front door still gazing after Constance.
+
+‘Won’t you come, Dolly?’ said Mysie. ‘Or haven’t you learnt your
+lessons?’
+
+‘No,’ said Dolly, making one answer serve for both questions.
+
+‘Oh! then you can’t. Shall I ask mamma to let you off?’
+
+‘No, I don’t care. I don’t like messes! And what’s the use if you
+haven’t a cookery class?’
+
+‘It’s such fun,’ said Val.
+
+‘And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin and taught Gill,’
+added Mysie.
+
+‘But if you haven’t done your lessons, you can’t go,’ said Valetta
+decidedly.
+
+Off they went, and Lady Merrifield presently crossed the hall, and saw
+Dolores’ attitude.
+
+‘My dear, are you waiting to say those verses?’ she said kindly.
+
+‘I hadn’t time to learn them, I went to sleep,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘A very good thing too, my dear. Suppose we go over them together.’
+
+Aunt Lilias took the unwilling hand, led Dolores into the schoolroom,
+and for half an hour she went over the verses with her, explaining what
+was new to the girl, and vividly describing the agitation of Plymouth,
+and the flocks of people thronging in. ‘I must show her that I will be
+minded, but I will make it pleasant to her, poor child,’ she thought.
+
+And it could not have been otherwise than pleasant to her, but that she
+was reflecting all this time that she was being punished while Mysie was
+enjoying herself. Therefore she put the lid on her intellect, and was
+inconceivably stupid.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. -- PERSECUTION
+
+
+
+On Monday afternoon Dolores was sitting at the end of the long garden
+walk, upon a green garden-bench, with a crocodile’s head and tail
+roughly carved. The shouts of the others were audible in the distance
+beyond the belt of trees. Aunt Lily had driven into the town to meet her
+sisters, taking Fergus with her, whereas Dolores had never been out in
+the carriage. There was partiality! Though, to be sure, Fergus was to
+have a tooth out! Harry and Gillian were playing with the rest, and
+she had been invited to join, but she had made answer that she hated
+romping, and on being assured that no romping was necessary, she replied
+that she only wanted to read in peace. She had refused the “Thorn
+Fortress,” which she was told would explain the game, and had hunted out
+“Clare, or No Home,” to compare her lot with that of the homeless one.
+
+Certainly, she had not yet been sent to bed with a box on the ear
+because a countess had shown symptoms of noticing her more than her
+ugly, over-dressed cousin. But then Aunt Lily would not allow her to
+walk down alone to the Casement Villas to see dear Constance, and would
+let that farmer keep all those dreadful cows in the paddock, so that
+even going escorted was a terror to her.
+
+Nor had her handsome mourning been taken from her and old clothes of
+her cousin substituted for it. No, but she had been cruelly pulled about
+between Mrs. Halfpenny and the Silverton dressmaker with a mouthful of
+pins; and Aunt Lily had insisted on her dress being trimmed with velvet,
+instead of the jingling jet she preferred.
+
+Did they intercept her letters? She had had one from her father, sent
+from Falmouth, but only one from Maude Sefton in ten days! Moreover, she
+had one from Constance in her apron pocket, arrived that very afternoon,
+asking her to come down with Gillian on the Sundays, that the friends
+might enjoy themselves together while the classes were going on; but she
+made sure that all were so jealous of her friendship with Constance that
+no consent would be given.
+
+She did not hear or notice the whisperings in the laurels behind her--
+
+‘Do you see that sulky old Croat, smoking his pipe under the tree?’
+
+‘No, he is a Black Brunswicker.’
+
+‘Nonsense, Willie; the Black Brunswickers weren’t till Bonaparte’s
+time.’
+
+‘I don’t care, he is anything black and nasty; here goes!’
+
+‘Oh stop; don’t shoot. I believe he is only a vivandiere. Besides, it’s
+treacherous--’
+
+‘I tell you he is laying a train to blow up the tower. There!’
+
+An arrow struck the bench beside Dolores, who, more angry than she had
+ever been in her life, snatched it up, unheeding that it had no point
+to speak of, rushed headlong in pursuit, while, with a tremendous shout,
+Valetta and Wilfred flew before her to a waste overgrown place at the
+end of the kitchen garden.
+
+‘We’ve shot a Croat!’
+
+‘No, a Black Brunswicker.’
+
+‘Oh ah! They are coming--the enemy! Into the fortress! Bar the wolf’s
+passage!’
+
+And as Dolores struggled through the bushes, she saw the whole family
+dashing into an outhouse, and the door slammed. She pushed against it,
+but an unearthly compound of howls, yells, shouts and bangs replied.
+
+‘Gillian! Harry, I say,’ she cried in great anger; ‘come out, I want to
+speak to you.’
+
+But her voice was lost in the war-whoops within, and the louder she
+knocked, the louder grew the din, till she walked off, swelling with
+grief and indignation. Mysie, after all her professions of friendship,
+to use her in this way! And Harry and Gillian, who should have kept the
+others within bounds!
+
+Slowly she crossed the lawn, just as Lady Merrifield, the other two
+aunts, and Fergus, all came out from the glass door of the drawing-room.
+Aunt Jane, a trim little dark-eyed woman, looking at two and forty much
+the same as she might have done at five and twenty; and Aunt Adeline,
+pretty and delicately fair, with somewhat of the same grace as Lady
+Merrifield, but more languor, and an air as if everything about her were
+for effect. Though not specially fond of theses aunts, Dolores was glad
+to have them as witnesses of her ill-usage.
+
+‘There stands Dolly, like a statue of Diana, dart in hand,’ exclaimed
+Aunt Adeline.
+
+‘Yes,’ said Dolores; ‘I wish to know, Aunt Lilias, if Wilfred and
+Valetta are to call me names, and shoot arrows at me?’
+
+‘What do you mean, my dear?’
+
+‘They came at me while I was sitting quietly reading--there--and shot at
+me, and called me such horrid names I can’t repeat them, and ran away.
+Then the others, Gillian and Harry and all, would not listen to me, but
+shut themselves up in an out-house and shouted at me.’
+
+‘I think there must be some mistake, Dolores,’ said her aunt. ‘Where are
+they?’
+
+‘Out beyond there,’ said Dolores, pointing in the direction in which
+Fergus was running.
+
+Lady Merrifield set off with her, and the other two ladies followed more
+slowly.
+
+‘I thought it would not do,’ said Aunt Jane.
+
+‘Lily’s children are so rough,’ added Aunt Adeline.
+
+‘I am not so sure that the fault is theirs,’ was the reply. ‘She is a
+priggish little puss, who wants shaking up.’
+
+‘Ah! here come the hordes,’ sighed Adeline, shrinking a little, as the
+entire population, summoned by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the
+advancing mother.
+
+‘How is this, Wilfred? Have you been shooting arrows at your cousin?’
+
+‘Mama!’ cried Valetta, indignantly, ‘he did not shoot at her; he only
+pretended, and shot the old crocodile-bench. He never meant any more. It
+was only play.’
+
+‘Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the direction of any person?’
+
+‘Nor I didn’t!’ said Wilfred. ‘I only shot the crocodile. I never tried
+to hit her. She is quite big enough to miss.’
+
+‘And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma,’ added Valetta. ‘We were
+scouts out of the Thorn Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly
+dodge to steal upon one of the enemy.’
+
+‘You should have warned her.’
+
+Then it would not have been a surprise,’ said Val, seriously.
+
+‘Was she not at play with you?’
+
+‘No, mamma,’ said Mysie. ‘We asked her, and she would not. I say,’
+pausing in consternation, ‘Dolores, was it you that came and called at
+the door of the Wolf’s passage?’
+
+‘Of course. I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred behaved to me.’
+
+I thought it was Fergus come home to be the enemy.’
+
+‘Didn’t you know her voice?’ asked the mother
+
+‘We were all making such a noise ourselves in the dark,’ said Gillian,
+‘that there was no hearing any one; and Primrose was rather frightened,
+so that Hal was attending to her. Indeed, Dolores, I am very sorry. If
+we had guessed that it was you, we would have opened the door at once,
+and then you would have known that it was all fun and play, and not have
+troubled mamma about it.’
+
+‘Wilfred and Valetta knew,’ said Dolores, rather sullenly.
+
+‘Oh! but it was such fun,’ said Val.
+
+‘It was fun that became unkindness on your part,’ said her mother. ‘You
+ought not to have kept it up without warning to her. And what do I hear
+about names? I hope that was also misunderstanding of the game. What did
+you call her?’
+
+‘Only a Croat,’ said Valetta, indignantly, ‘and a Black Brunswicker.’
+
+‘Was that it, Dolores?’
+
+‘Perhaps,’ she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh from her Aunt Jane.
+
+‘I do not know what you took them for,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘but you
+see some part of this trouble arose from a mistake on you part. Now,
+Wilfred and Valetta, remember that is not right to force a person into
+play against her will. And as to the shooting near, but not at her,
+you both know perfectly well that it is forbidden. So give me your bow,
+Wilfred. I shall keep it for a week, that you may remember obedience.’
+
+Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed. Dolores could not call her aunt
+unjust, but as she look round, she met glances that made her think it
+prudent to shelter herself among the elders. Aunt Jane asked what the
+game was.
+
+‘The Thorn Fortress,’ said Gillian. ‘It comes out of that delightful
+S.P.C.K. book so called, where, in the ‘Thirty Years’ War,’ all the
+people of a village took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the
+middle of a forest guarded by a tremendous hedge of thorns. Val had
+it for a birthday present, and the children have been acting it ever
+since.’
+
+‘It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, which used to be a
+regular stage in these children’s lives. Every voyage we have taken,
+somebody has come to ask whether there was any hope of being wrecked on
+one.’
+
+‘Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition,’ observed Harry.
+
+On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five o’clock tea in
+the drawing-room, the juniors to gouter in the dining-room. As Dolores
+entered, she beheld a row of all her five younger cousins drawn
+up looking at her as if she had committed high treason, and she was
+instantly addressed--
+
+‘Tell-take tit!’ began Valetta.
+
+‘Sneak!’ cried Wilfred.
+
+‘I will call her Croat!’ added Fergus.
+
+‘Worse than Croat! Bashi Bazouk!’ exclaimed Valetta.
+
+‘Worse than Crow!’ chimed in Primrose.
+
+‘Oh, Dolores! How could you?’ said Mysie.
+
+‘To get poor Willie punished!’ said Val.
+
+Dolores stood her ground. ‘It was time to speak when it came to shooting
+arrows at me.’
+
+‘Hush! hush! Willie,’ cried Mysie. ‘I told you so. Now Dolores, listen.
+Nobody ever tells of anybody when it is only being tiresome and they
+don’t mean it, or there never would be any peace at all. That’s honour!
+Do you see? One may go to Gill sometimes.’
+
+‘One’s a sneak if one does,’ put in Wilfred; but Mysie, unheeding went
+on--
+
+‘And Gill can help without a fuss or going to mamma.’
+
+‘Mamma always knows,’ said Val.
+
+‘Mamma knows all about everything,’ said Mysie. ‘I think it’s nature;
+ad if she does not always take notice at the time, she will have it out
+sooner or later.’ Then resuming the thread of her discourse: ‘So you
+see, Dolly, we have made up our minds that we will forgive you this
+time, because you are an only child and don’t know what’s what, and
+that’s some excuse. Only you mustn’t go on telling tales whenever an
+evident happens.’
+
+Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, but the force against
+her was overpowering, though still she hesitated. ‘But if I promise not
+to tell,’ she said, ‘how do I know what may be done to me?’
+
+‘You might trust us,’ cried Mysie, with flashing eyes.
+
+‘And I can tell you,’ added Wilfred, ‘that if you do tell, it will be
+ever so much the worse for you--girl that you are.’
+
+‘War to the knife! Cried Valetta, and everybody except Mysie joined in
+the outcry. ‘War to the knife with traitors in the camp.’
+
+Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again acted orator. ‘You see,
+Dolores, if you did tell, it would not be possible for mamma or Gill to
+be always looking after you, and I couldn’t do you much good--and if all
+these three are set against you, and are horrid to you, and I couldn’t
+do you much good--horrid to you, you’ll have no peace in your life; and,
+after all, we only ask of you to give and take in a good-natured sort of
+way, and not to be always making a fuss about everything you don’t like.
+It is the only way, I assure you.’
+
+Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said--
+
+‘Very well.’
+
+‘You promise?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘Then we forgive you, and here’s the box of chocolate things Aunt Ada
+brought. We’ll have a cigar all round and be friends. Smoke the pipe of
+peace.’
+
+Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would have been to have replied,
+‘Dolores Mohun will never be intimidated;’ but the fact was that her
+spirit did quail at the thought of the tortures which the two boys
+might inflict on her if Mysie abandoned her to their mercy, and she was
+relieved, as well as surprised to find that her offence was condoned,
+and she was treated as if nothing had happened.
+
+Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing-room, ‘How do you get on?’
+
+‘Fairly well,’ was Lady Merrifield’s answer. ‘We shall work together in
+time.’
+
+‘What does Gill say?’ asked the aunt, rather mischievously.
+
+‘Well,’ said the young lady, ‘I don’t think we get on at all, not even
+poor Mysie, who works steadily on at her, gets snubbed a dozen times a
+day, and never seems to feel it.’
+
+I hoped her father would have sent her to school,’ said Aunt Adeline. ‘I
+knew she would be troublesome. She has all her mother’s pride.’
+
+‘The proudest people are those who have least to be proud of,’ said Aunt
+Jane.
+
+‘School would have hardened the crust and kept up the alienation,’ said
+Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘Perhaps not. It might teach her to value the holidays, and learn that
+blood is thicker than water,’ said Miss Jane.
+
+‘It is always in reserve,’ added Miss Adeline.
+
+‘Yes, Maurice told her to send her if I grew tired of her, as he said,’
+replied Lady Merrifield, ‘but of course I should not think of that
+unless for very strong reasons.’
+
+‘Oh, mamma!’ and Gillian remained with her mouth open.
+
+‘Well?’ said Aunt Jane.
+
+‘I meant to have told you mamma, but Mr. Leadbitter came in about the
+G.F.S. and stopped me, and I have never seen you to speak to since.
+Yesterday you know, I stayed from evensong to look after the little
+ones, and you said Dolores might do as she pleased, so she stayed at
+home. The children were looking at the book of Bible Pictures, and it
+came out that Dolly knew nothing at all about Joshua and the walls of
+Jericho, nor Gideon and the lamps in the pitchers, nor anything else.
+Then, when I was surprised, she said that it was not the present system
+to perplex children with the myths of ancient Jewish history.’
+
+Gillian was speaking rapidly, in the growing consciousness that her
+mother had rather have had this communication reserved for her private
+ear--and her answer was, ‘Poor child!’
+
+‘Just what I should expect!’ said Aunt Jane.
+
+‘Probably it was jargon half understood, and repeated in defence of
+her ignorance,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘She is an odd mixture of defiant
+loyalty and self-defence.’
+
+‘What shall you do about this kind of talk?’ asked her sister.
+
+‘One must hear it sooner or later,’ said Harry.
+
+‘That is true,’ returned his mother, ‘but I suppose Fergus and Primrose
+did not hear or understand.’
+
+‘Oh no, mamma. I know they did not, for they were squabbling because
+Primrose wanted to turn over before Fergus had done with Gideon.’
+
+‘Then I don’t think there is any harm done. If it comes before Mysie or
+Val I will talk to them, and I mean to take this poor child alone for a
+little while each day in the week and try to get at her.’
+
+‘There’s another thing,’ said Gillian. ‘Is she to go down with me always
+to Casement Cottages on Sunday afternoons when I take the class?’
+
+‘To teach or to learn?’ ironically exclaimed Aunt Jane.
+
+‘Neither,’ said Gillian. ‘To chatter to Constance Hacket. They both
+spoke to me about it yesterday before I went home, and I believe
+Constance has written a note to her to ask her today! Fancy, that goose
+told me my sweet cousin was a dear, and that we didn’t appreciate her.
+Even Miss Hacket gave me quite a lecture on kindness and consideration
+to an orphan stranger.’
+
+‘Not uncalled for, perhaps,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘I hope you received it in
+an edifying manner.’
+
+‘Now, Aunt Jane! Well, I believe I said we were as kind as she would let
+us be, especially Mysie.’
+
+Lady Merrifield here made the move to conduct her sisters to their
+rooms; Miss Mohun detained her when they had reached hers, and had left
+Adeline to rest on her sofa. The two, though very unlike, had still the
+habits of absolute confidential intimacy belonging to sisters next in
+age.
+
+‘Lily,’ said Miss Mohun, ‘Gillian spoke of a note. Did Maurice give you
+any directions about this child’s correspondence?’
+
+‘You know I did not see him. I was so much disappointed. I would give
+anything to have talked her over with him.’
+
+‘I am not sure that you would have gained much. I doubt whether he knows
+much about her, poor fellow. But the letters?’
+
+‘He wrote that she had been a good deal with Professor Sefton’s family,
+and he thought they might like to keep up their intercourse.’
+
+‘Nothing about Flinders? He ought to have warned you.’
+
+‘No. Who is he?’
+
+‘A half-brother--no, a step-brother to poor Mary. He was the son by a
+former marriage of her father’s first wife, and has been always a
+thorn in their sides. He is a low, dissipated kind of creature; writes
+theatrical criticisms for third-rate papers, or something of that kind,
+when he is at his best. I believe Mary was really fond of him, and
+helped him more than Maurice could well bear, and since her death the
+man has perfectly pestered him with appeals to her memory. I really
+believe one reason he welcomed this post was to get out of his reach.’
+
+‘You always know everything Jenny. Now how did you know this?’
+
+‘I called once in the midst of an interview between him and Mary. And
+afterwards I came on poor Maurice when he was really very much provoked,
+and had it all out; ad since her death--well, I saw him get a begging
+letter from the man, and he spoke of it again. I wish I had advised him
+to warn you against the wretch.’
+
+‘I don’t suppose he knows where the child is. He is no relation to her,
+you say?’
+
+‘None at all, happily. But on that occasion, when I was an uncomfortable
+third, Maurice was very angry that she should have been allowed to call
+him Uncle Alfred; and Mary screwed up her little mouth, and evidently
+rather liked the aggravation to Mohun pride.’
+
+‘Poor Maurice, so he had a skeleton! Well, I don’t see how it can hurt
+us. The man probably knows nothing about us, and even if he could trace
+the girl, he must know that she can do nothing for him.’
+
+‘You had better keep an eye on her letters. He is quite capable of
+asking for the poor child’s half sovereigns. I wish Maurice had given
+you authority.’
+
+‘Perhaps he spoke to her about it. At any rate, what he said of the
+Seftons is quite sufficient to imply that there is no sanction to any
+other correspondence.’
+
+‘That is true. Really, Lily, I believe you are the most likely person
+to do some good with her, though I don’t think you know what you are in
+for. But Gillian does!’
+
+‘I believe it is very good for the children to have to exercise a little
+forbearance. In spite of all our knocking about the world, our family
+exclusiveness is pretty much what ours was in the old Beechcroft days--’
+
+‘When Rotherwood and Robert Mohun were out only outsiders and the
+Westons came on us like new revelations!’
+
+‘It is curious to look back on,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘It seems to me
+that the system, or no system, on which we were brought up was rather
+passing away even then.’
+
+‘Specks we growed,’ said Jane. ‘What do you call the system?’
+
+‘Just that people thought it their own business to bring up their
+children themselves, and let the actual technical teaching depend upon
+opportunities, whereas now they get them taught, but let the bringing up
+take it chance.’
+
+‘People lived with their children then--yes, I see what you mean, Lily.
+Poor Eleanor, intending with all her might to be a mother to us, brought
+us up, as you call it, with all her powers; but public opinion would
+never have suffered us to get merely the odd sort of teaching that she
+could give us. It was regular, or course; but oh! do you remember the
+old atlas, with Germany divided into circles, and everything as it was
+before the Congress of Vienna?’
+
+‘You liked geography; I hated it.’
+
+‘Yes, I was young enough to come in for the elder boys’ old school
+atlases, which had some sense in them. It seems to me that we had more
+the spirit of working for ourselves according to our individual tastes
+than people have now. We learnt, they are taught.’
+
+‘Well! and what did we learn?’
+
+‘As much as we could carry,’ said Aunt Jane, laughing. ‘Assimilate, if
+you like it better; and I doubt if people will turn out to have done
+more now. What becomes of all the German that is crammed down girl’s
+throats, whether they have a turn for languages or not? Do they ever
+read a German book? Now you learnt it for love of Fouque and Max
+Piccolomini, and you have kept it up ever since.’
+
+‘Yes, by cramming it down my children’s throats. But what I complain of,
+Jane, in the young folk that come across me is not over-knowledge, but
+want of knowledge--want of general culture. This Dolores, for instance,
+can do what she has been taught better than Mysie, some tings better
+than Gillian, but she has absolutely no interest in general knowledge,
+not even in the glaciers which she has seen; she does not know whether
+Homer wrote in Greek or Latin, considers “Marmion” a lesson, cannot tell
+a planet from a star, and neither knows nor cares anything about the two
+Napoleons. Now we seem to have breathed in such things. Why! I remember
+being made into Astyanax for a very unwilling Andromache (poor Eleanor)
+for caress, and being told to shudder at the bright copper coal-scuttle,
+before Harry went to school.’
+
+‘Of course poor Maurice could not cultivate his child. Yet, after all,
+we grew up without a mother; but then the dear old Baron lived among us,
+and knew what we were doing, instead of shutting us up in a schoolroom
+with some one, with only knowledge, not culture. Those very late dinners
+have quite upset all the intelligent intercourse between fathers and
+children not come out.’
+
+‘Yes, Jasper and I have felt that difficulty. But after all, Jenny, when
+I look back, I cannot say I think ours was a model bringing up. What a
+strange year that was after Eleanor’s marriage!’
+
+‘Ah! you felt responsible and were too young for it, but to me it was a
+very jolly time, though I suppose I was an ingredient in your troubles.
+Yes, we brought ourselves up; but I maintain that it was better
+alternative than being drilled so hard as never to think of anything but
+arrant idling out of lesson-time.’
+
+‘Lessons should be lessons, and play, play, is one of the professor’s
+maxims to which that poor child has treated us.’
+
+‘Ah! on that system, where would have been all your grand heraldic
+pedigrees? I’ve got them still.’
+
+‘Oh! Jenny, you good old Brownie, have you? How I should like to look
+at them again and show them the Gillian and Mysie. Do you remember the
+little scalloped line we drew round all the true knights?’
+
+‘Ay! and where would have been all your romancing about Sir Maurice de
+Mohun, the pride of his name? For my part, I much prefer a cavalier
+dead two hundred years ago as the object of a girl’s enthusiasm--if
+enthusiasm she must have--to the existing lieutenant, or even curate.’
+
+‘Certainly; I should be sorry to have been bred up to history with
+individual interest and romance squeezed out of it. You see when Jasper
+came home from the Crimea he exactly continued mine.’
+
+‘You have fulfilled your ideal better than falls to the lot of most
+people, even to the item of knighthood.’
+
+‘Ah! you should have heard us grumble over the expense of it. And,
+after all, I dare say Sir Maurice found his knight’s fee quite as
+inconvenient! Oh!’ with a start, ‘there’s the first bell, and here have
+I been dawdling here instead of minding my business! But it is so nice
+to have you! I day, Jenny, we will have one of our good old games at
+threadpaper verses and all the rest tonight. I want you to show the
+children how we used to play at them.’
+
+And the party played at paper games for nearly two hours that evening,
+to the extreme delight of Gillian, Mysie, and Harry, to say nothing
+of their mother and aunts, who played with all their might, even Aunt
+Adeline lighting up into droll, quiet humour. Only Dolores was
+first bewildered, then believed herself affronted, and soon gave up
+altogether, wondering that grown-up people could be so foolish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. -- G.F.S.
+
+
+
+The first thought of Dolores was that she should see Constance Hacket,
+when she heard ‘Hurrah for a holiday!’ resounding over the house.
+
+As she came out of her room Mysie met her. ‘Hurrah! Aunt Jane has got us
+a holiday that we may help get ready for the G.F.S.! Mamma has sent down
+notes to Miss Vincent and Mr. Pollock. Oh! jolly, jolly!’
+
+And, obvious of past offences, Mysie caught her cousin’s arms, and
+whirled her round and round in an exulting dance, extremely unpleasant
+to so quiet a personage. ‘Don’t!’ she cried. ‘You hurt! You make me
+dizzy!’
+
+‘My certie, Miss Mysie!’ exclaimed Mrs. Halfpenny at the same time,
+‘ye’re daft! Gae doon canny, and keep your apron on, for if I see a
+stain on that clean dress--’
+
+Mysie hopped downstairs without waiting to hear the terrible
+consequences.’
+
+Aunt Adeline did not come down to breakfast, but Aunt Jane appeared,
+fresh and glowing, just in time for prayers, having been with Gillian
+and Harry to survey the scene of operations, and to judge of the day,
+which threatened showers, the grass being dank and sparkling with
+something more than September dews.
+
+‘The tables must be in the coach-house,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Happily,
+our equipages are not on a large scale, and we must not get the poor
+girls’ best things drenched.’
+
+‘No; and it is rather disheartening to have to address double ranks of
+umbrellas,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘Is the post come?’
+
+‘It is always infamously late here,’ said Harry. ‘We complained, as the
+appointed hour is eight, but we were told ‘all the other ladies were
+satisfied.’ I do believe they think no one not in business has a right
+to wish for letters before nine.’
+
+‘Here it comes, though,’ said Gillian; and in due time the locked
+letter-bag was delivered to Lady Merrifield, and Primrose waited eagerly
+to act as postman.
+
+It was not the day for the Indian mail, but Aunt Jane expected some last
+directions, and Lady Merrifield the final intelligence as to the numbers
+of each contingent of girls. Dolores was on the qui vive for a letter
+from Maude Sefton, and devoured her aunt and the bag with her eyes. She
+was quite sure that among the bundle of post-cards that were taken out
+there was a letter. Also she saw her aunt give a little start, and
+put it aside, and when she demanded. ‘Is there no letter for me?’ Lady
+Merrifield’s answer was,’ None, my dear, from Miss Sefton.’
+
+Hot indignation glowed in Dolores’s cheeks and eyes, more especially as
+she perceived a look pass between the two aunts. She sat swelling while
+talk about the chances of rain was passing round her, the forecasts in
+the paper, the cats washing their faces, the swallows flying low, the
+upshot being that it might be fine, but that emergencies were to be
+prepared for. All the time that Lady Merrifield was giving orders to
+children and servants for the preparations, Dolores kept her station,
+and the instant there was a vacant moment, she said fiercely--
+
+‘Aunt Lilias, I know there is a letter for me. Let me have it.’
+
+‘Your father told me you might have letter from Miss Sefton, and there
+is none from her,’ said Lady Merrifield, with a somewhat perplexed air.
+
+‘I may have letters from whom I choose.’
+
+‘My dear, that is not the custom in general with girls of your age, and
+I know your father would not wish it. Tell me, is there any one you have
+reason to expect to hear from?’
+
+Dolores had an instinct that all the Mohuns were set against the person
+she was thinking of, but she had an answer ready, true, but which would
+serve her purpose.
+
+‘There was a person, Herr Muhlwausser, that father ordered some
+scientific plates from--of microscopic zoophytes. He said he did not
+know whether anything would come of it, but, in case it should, he gave
+my address, and left me a cheque to pay him with. I have it in my desk
+upstairs.’
+
+‘Very well, my dear,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘you shall have the letter
+when it comes.’
+
+‘The men are come, my lady, to put up the tables. Miss Mohun says will
+you come down?’ came the information at that moment, sweeping away Aunt
+Lilias and everybody else into the whirl of preparation; while Dolores
+remained, feeling absolutely certain that a letter was being
+withheld from her, and she stood on the garden steps burning with hot
+indignation, when Mysie, armed with the key of the linen-press, flashed
+past her breathlessly, exclaiming--
+
+‘Aren’t you coming down, Dolly? ‘Tis such fun! I’m come for some
+table-cloths.’
+
+This didn’t stir Dolores, but presently Mysie returned again, followed
+by Mrs. Halfpenny, grumbling that ‘A’ the bonnie napery that she had
+packed and carried sae mony miles by sea and land should be waured on
+a wheen silly feckless taupies that ‘tis the leddies’ wull to cocker up
+till not a lass of ‘em will do a stroke of wark, nor gie a ceevil answer
+to her elders.’
+
+Mysie, with a bundle of damask cloths under her arm, paused to repeat,
+‘Are you not coming Dolly? Your dear Miss Constance is there looking for
+you?’
+
+This did move Dolores, and she followed to the coach-house, where
+everybody was buzzing about like bees, the tables and forms being
+arranged, and upon them dishes with piles of fruit and cakes,
+contributions from other associates. All the vases, great and small,
+were brought out, and raids were made on the flower garden to fill them.
+Little scarlet flags, with the name of each parish in white, were placed
+to direct the parties of guests to their places, and Harry, Macrae, and
+the little groom were adorning the beams with festoons. The men from
+the coffee-tavern supplied the essentials, but the ladies undertook the
+decoration, and Aunt Adeline, in a basket-chair, with her feet on a
+box, directed the ornamentation with great taste and ability. Constance
+Hacket had been told off to make up a little bouquet to lay beside each
+plate, and Dolores volunteered to help her.
+
+‘Well, dearest, will you come to me on Sunday?’
+
+‘I don’t know. I have not been able to ask Aunt Lilias yet, and Gillian
+was very cross about it.’
+
+‘What did she say?’
+
+‘She said she did not think Aunt Lilias approved of visiting and
+gossiping on Sunday.’
+
+‘Oh! now. What does Gillian do herself?’ said Constance in a hurt voice.
+‘She does come and teach, certainly, but she stays ever so long talking
+after the class is over. Why should we gossip more than she does?’
+
+‘Yes; but people’s own children can do no wrong.’
+
+There Constance became inattentive. Mr. Poulter had come up, and wanted
+to be useful, so she jumped up with a handful of nosegays to instruct
+him in laying them by each plate, leaving Dolores to herself, which
+she found dull. The other two, however, came back again, and the work
+continued, but the talk was entirely between the gentleman and lady,
+chiefly about music for the choral society, and the voices of the
+singers, about which Dolores neither knew nor cared.
+
+By one o’clock the long tables were a pretty sight, covered with piles
+of fruit and cakes, vases of flowers and little flags, establishments of
+teacups at intervals, and a bouquet and pretty card at every one of the
+plates.
+
+Then came early dinner at the house, and such rest as could be had after
+it, till the pony-chaise, waggonette, and Mrs. Blackburne’s carriage
+came to the door to convey to church all whom they could carry, the rest
+walking.
+
+The church was a sea of neat round hats, mostly black, with a
+considerable proportion of feathers, tufts, and flowers. On their dark
+dresses were pinned rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to
+which parish they belonged. There was a bright, short service, in which
+the clear, high voices of the multitudinous maidens quite overcame
+those of the choir boys, and then an address, respecting which Constance
+pronounced that ‘Canon Fremont was always so sweet,’ and Dolores
+assented, without in the least knowing what it had been about.
+
+Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept guard, in the walk from
+church, over the white-rosed Silverton detachment; but another shower
+was impending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must not get wet,
+rushed up and packed her into the waggonette, where Dolores was climbing
+after, when at a touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield looked round.
+
+‘Dolores,’ she said, ‘you forget that Miss Hacket walked to church.’
+
+Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black as thunder, and
+Miss Hacket protested that she was not tired, and could not leave her
+girls.
+
+‘Never mind the girls, I will look after them; I meant to walk. Don’t
+stand on the step. Come down,’ she added sharply, but not in time, for
+the horses gave a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, down tumbled
+Dolores, or would have tumbled, but that she was caught between her
+aunt and Miss Hacket, who with one voice admonished her never to do
+that again, for there was nothing more dangerous. Indeed, there was more
+anger in Lady Merrifield’s tone than her niece had yet heard, and as
+there was no making out that there was the least injury to the girl, she
+was forced to walk home, in spite of all Miss Hacket’s protestations
+and refusals, which had nearly ended in her exposing herself to the same
+peril as Dolores, only that Lady Merrifield fairly pushed her in and
+shut the door on her. Nothing would have compensated to Dolores but that
+her Constance should have jumped out to accompany her and bewail her
+aunt’s cruelty, but devotion did not reach to such an extent. Her aunt,
+however, said in a tone that might be either apology or reproof--
+
+‘My dear, I could not let poor Miss Hacket walk after all she has done
+and with all she has to do today.’
+
+Dolores vouchsafed no answer, but Aunt Jane said--
+
+‘All which applies doubly to you, Lily.’
+
+‘Not a bit; I am not run about like all of you,’ she answered, brightly.
+‘Besides, it is such fun! I feel like Whit Monday at Beechcroft! Don’t
+you remember the pink and blue glazed calico banners crowned with summer
+snowballs? And the big drum? What a nice-looking set of girls! How
+pleasant to see rosy, English faces tidily got up! They were rosy enough
+in Ireland, but a great deal too picturesque. Now these are a sort of
+flower of maidenhood--’
+
+‘You are getting quite poetical, Lily.’
+
+‘It’s the effect of walking in procession--there’s something quite
+exhilarating in it; ay, and of having a bit of old Beechcroft about me.
+Do tell me who that lady is; I ought to know her, I’m sure! Oh, Miss
+Smith, good morning. How many girls have you brought? Oh! the crimson
+rosettes, are they? York and Lancaster?--indeed. I’m glad we have
+some shelter for them; I’m afraid there is another shower. Have you no
+umbrella, my dear? Come under mine.’
+
+It was a fierce scud of hail, hitting rather than wetting, but Dolores
+had the satisfaction of declaring the edges of her dress to be damp and
+going off to change it, though Aunt Jane pinched the kilting and said
+the damp was imperceptible, and Wilfred muttered, ‘Made of sugar, only
+not so sweet.’
+
+In fact, she hoped that Constance, who had told of her hatred to these
+great functions and willingness to do anything to avoid them, would
+avail herself of the excuse; but though the young lady must have seen
+her go, she never attempted to follow; and Dolores, feeling her own room
+dull, came down again to find the drawing-room empty, and on the next
+gleam of sunshine, she decided on going to seek her friend.
+
+What a hum and buzz pervaded the stable-yard! There was a coach-house
+with all its great doors open, and the rows of girls awakening from
+their first shy and hungry silence into laughter and talking. There
+were big urns and fountains steaming, active hands filling cups, all
+the cousins, all their congeners, and four or five clergymen acting
+as waiters, Aunt Adeline pouring out tea a the upper table for any
+associate who had time to swallow it, and Constance Hacket talking away
+to a sandy-haired curate, without so much as seeing her friend! Only
+Wilfred, at sight of his cousin again, getting up a violent mock cough,
+declaring that he thought she had gone to bed with congealed lungs or
+else Brown Titus, as the old women called it. His mother, however, heard
+the cough--which, indeed, was too remarkable a sound not to attract any
+one--and with a short, sharp word to him to take care, she put Dolores
+down under Aunt Ada’s wing, and provided her with a lovely peach and a
+delicious Bath bun. Constance just looked up and nodded, saying, ‘You
+dear little thing, I couldn’t think what was become of you,’ and then
+went on with her sandy curate, about--what was it?--Dolores know not,
+only that it seemed very interesting, and she was left out of it.
+
+Down came the rain, a hopeless downpour, and there was a consultation
+among the elders, some laughing, some doubtful looks, and at last Harry,
+with Macrae and one of the curates, disappeared. Then grace was sung,
+and speeches followed--one by the rector, Mr. Leadbitter, fatherly and
+prosy;--a paper read by the Branch Secretary, about affairs in general;
+and a very amusing speech by Miss Mohun, full of anecdotes of example
+and warning. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘all the school story-books end--when
+the grown up books marry their people--with the good girl going out to
+service under her young lady, and there she lives happy ever after! But
+some of us know better! We don’t know how far the marrying ones always
+do live very happy ever after--’
+
+‘For shame, Jenny!’ muttered Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘But,’ went on Miss Mohun, ‘even you that have been lucky enough to get
+under your own young ladies know that life here is all new beginnings at
+the bottom, just as when you were very proud of yourselves for getting
+out of the infant school, you found it was only being at the bottom
+of the upper one; and I can tell the twelve-year-olds--I see some of
+them--that it is often a finer thing to be at the head of the school
+than the last in the house. Ay, you’ve got to work up there again, and
+it is a long business and a steady business, but it is to be done. I
+knew a girl, thirty-five years ago, that my sister-in-law took from
+school, and she was not a genius either, and I am quite sure she could
+not do rule-of-three, nor tell what is the capital of Dahomey, as I dare
+say every one here can do, but I’ll tell you what she did, and that was,
+her best, and there she has been ever since; and the last time I saw
+her was sitting up in her housekeeper’s room, in her silk gown, with her
+master’s grandchildren hanging about her, respected and loved by us all.
+And I knew another, a much clever girl at school, with prettier ways to
+begin with, but--I’m sorry to say, her finger were too clever, and it
+was not very happy ever after, though she did right herself.’ And
+then Aunt Jane went on to the difficulties of having to deal with
+such quantities of pots and pans, and knives and forks, and cloths and
+brushes, each with a use of its very own, just as if she had been a
+scullery-maid herself; telling how sense and memory must be brought to
+bear on these things just as much as in analyzing a sentence, and how
+even those would not do without the higher motive of faithfulness to
+Him whose servants we all are. Her finish was a picture of the roving
+servant girl, always saying, ‘I don’t like it,’ and always seeking
+novelty, illustrated by her experience of a little maid who left one
+place because she could not sleep alone, and another because the little
+girl slept with her, a third because it was so lonesome, and a fourth
+because it was so noisy, and quitted her fifth within a half year
+because she could not eat twice cooked meat.
+
+Aunt Jane varied her voice in the most comical way, and the girls, as
+well as all her audience, laughed heartily.
+
+‘Bravo, Jenny!’ said a voice close to her, and a gentleman with a rather
+bald head, a fluffy, light beard touched with white, dancing eyes, and a
+slim, youthful figure, was seen standing in the group.
+
+Lady Merrifield and her sisters cried with one glad voice, ‘Oh!
+Rotherwood!’ holding out their hands.
+
+‘Yes. I found I’d a few hours between the trains, so I ran down to look
+you up. I met Harry at the house, and he told me I should find Jane
+qualifying for the female parliament.’
+
+‘It’s such a pity you should fall on all this turmoil,’ said Aunt Ada.
+
+‘Pity! I wouldn’t have missed Jenny’s wisdom for the world. What is it,
+Lily? Temperance, or have you set up a Salvation Army?
+
+‘G.F.S., of course, you Rotherwood of old! And now you are come, you
+shall save me from what has been my bugbear for the last week. You shall
+give the premiums.’
+
+‘Come, it’s no use making faces and pretending you know nothing about
+it,’ added Miss Mohun. ‘I know very well that Florence is deep in it!’
+
+‘Ay, they’ll have you over to repeat that splendid harangue about pots
+and pans!’ said he, bowing at Lady Merrifield’s introductions of him to
+the bystanders, and obediently accepting the sheaf of envelopes, while
+Mr. Leadbitter made it known that the premiums would be given by the
+Marquess of Rotherwood. Certainly it was a much more lively business
+than if Lady Merrifield had performed it, for he had something droll
+to observe to each girl. One he pretended to envy, telling her he
+had worked hard for may a year, and never got such a card as that for
+it--far less five shillings. Another he was sure kept her pans bright,
+and always knew which was which; a very little one was asked if she had
+gone from her cradle, and so on, always sending them away with a broad
+smile, and professing great respect for the three seven-year-card
+maidens who came up last. Then in a concluding speech he demanded--where
+were the premiums for the mistresses, who, he was quite sure, deserved
+them quite as much or more than the maids!
+
+While everybody was still laughing, Lady Merrifield asked Mr. Leadbitter
+to explain that as it was still raining hard, she must ask all to
+adjourn to the great loft over the stable, where they could enjoy
+themselves. Each associate was to gather her own flock and bring them
+in order. Lady Merrifield said she would lead the way, Lord Rotherwood
+coming with her, picking up little Primrose in his arms to carry her
+upstairs to the loft.
+
+Every one was moving. Dolores was among a crowd of strangers. She
+heard them saying how delightful Lord Rotherwood was, and charming
+and handsome and graceful Lady Merrifield, with her beautiful eyes. It
+worried Dolores, who thought it rather foolish to be pretty, except in
+the case of persecuted orphan, and, moreover, admiration of her
+aunt always seemed to her disparagement of her mother. And where was
+Constance?
+
+She followed the stream, and, climbing some stairs, came out into
+a large, long, empty hay-loft, over what had once been hunting
+stables--the children’s wet-day play-place. The deputation dispatched to
+the house had managed to get up there the schoolroom piano, and one of
+the curates sat down to it, and began playing dance music, while Miss
+Mohun, Miss Hacket, and the other ladies began arranging couples for a
+country dance--all girls, of course, except that Lord Rotherwood danced
+with the tiny premium girl, and Harry with Primrose. Wilfred and Fergus
+could not be incited to make the attempt; Mysie offered herself to
+Dolores, but in vain. ‘I hate dancing,’ was all the answer she got,
+and she went off to persuade Lois, the nursery girl. Constance Hacket
+arranged herself on a chair, and looked out from between two curates;
+there was no getting at her.
+
+Then there came a pause; Lord Rotherwood spoke to Gillian, and must have
+asked her to point Dolores out, for presently he made his way to the
+little dark figure in the window, and, kindly laying his hand on her
+shoulder, asked whether she had heard from her father yet.
+
+‘No, I suppose you can’t,’ he added. ‘It is a great break-up for you;
+but you are a lucky girl to be taken in here! It reminds me of what
+Beechcroft used to be to me when I was a stray fish, though not quite so
+lonely as you are. Make the most of it, for there aren’t many in these
+days like Aunt Lily there!’
+
+‘He little knows,’ thought Dolores, as a waltz began to be played.
+
+‘They want an example,’ he said. ‘Come along. You know how, I’m sure--a
+Londoner like you!’
+
+Pairs were whirling about the floor in full career in a short time, to
+the astonishment of other maidens who had never seen dancing in their
+lives. Dolores, afraid to refuse, and certainly flattered, really was
+wonderfully exhilarated and brightened by her career wither good-natured
+cousin.
+
+‘I do believe Cousin Rotherwood has shaken her out of the dumps,’
+observed Gillian to Aunt Jane, who returned--
+
+‘He can do it if any one can.’
+
+The funny thing was the effect upon Constance, who, in the next pause,
+shook off her curates, advanced to Dolores, who was recovering her
+breath under the window, called her a dear thing whom she had not been
+able to get to all this time, sat rather forward with an arm round
+her waist for the next half-hour, and, when Sir Roger de Coverley was
+getting up, proposed that they should be partners, but not till she had
+seen Lord Rotherwood pair himself off with Mysie.
+
+‘I must,’ said he to Lady Merrifield, ‘it’s so like dancing with honest
+Phyl.’
+
+‘The greatest compliment you could have, Mysie,’ said her mother,
+looking very much pleased.
+
+The last yellow patches of evening sunshine on the sloping roof faded;
+watches were looked at, the music turned to the National Anthem,
+everybody stood up, or stood still, and sung it. Then at the close, Mr.
+Leadbitter stood by the piano and said--
+
+‘One word more, my young friends. Some of you may have been surprised at
+this evening’s amusement, but we want you to understand that there is
+no harm in dancing itself, provided that the place, the manner, and
+the companions are fit. I hope that you will all prove the truth of my
+words, by not taking this pleasant evening as an excuse for running
+into places of temptation. Now, good night, with many thanks to Lady
+Merrifield for the happy day she has given us.’
+
+A voice added, ‘Three cheers for Lady Merrifield!’ and the G.F.S. showed
+itself by no means backward in the matter of cheering. There was a
+hunting up of ulsters and umbrellas; one associate after another got her
+flock together, and clattered downstairs, either to get into vans, to
+walk to the station, or to disperse to their homes in the town.
+
+Meantime Lord Rotherwood had time to explain that he was on his way
+to fetch his wife home from some German baths, where she had gone to
+recruit after the season; and, as he meant to cross at night, had come
+to spend a few hours with his cousin. There was still an hour to spare,
+during which Lady Merrifield insisted that he must have more solid food
+than G.F.S. provided.
+
+‘Lily,’ said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to the house together, ‘it
+strikes me that Rotherwood could satisfy your mind about that letter. He
+would know the handwriting. You remember a certain brother--very much in
+law--of Maurice’s?’
+
+‘I have reason to do so,’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘You don’t mean that he
+has been troubling Lily?’
+
+‘No; but from the nature of the animal it is much to be apprehended that
+he will,’ said Miss Mohun, ‘if he knows that the child is here.’
+
+‘In fact,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘Jane has made me suppress, till
+examination, a letter to her, in case it should be from him. It is a
+horrid thing to do. What do you think, Rotherwood?’
+
+‘There should be no correspondence. Did not Maurice warn you? Then
+he ought. Look here, Lily. His wife--under strong compulsion from the
+fellow, I should think--begged me to find some employment for him. I got
+him a secretaryship to our Board of--what d’ye call it? I’ll do Maurice
+the justice to say that he was considerably cool about it; but the end
+of it was that there was an unaccountable deficit, and my lady said it
+served me right. I was a fool, as I always am, and gave way to the poor
+woman about not bringing it home to him. And she insisted on making
+it up to me by degrees--out of her literary work, I fancy--for I don’t
+think Maurice knew the extent of the peculation. Ever since I’ve been
+getting begging letters from the fellow at intervals. If he had the
+impertinence to molest you, Lily, simply refer him to me.’
+
+‘And if he writes to the child?’
+
+‘Return him the letter. Say she can have no such thing without her
+father’s consent.’
+
+‘Is this a case in point?’ said Lady Merrifield, producing the letter.
+
+‘No,’ said he, holding it up in the waning light. ‘I know the fellow’s
+fist too well! This is a gentleman’s hand.’
+
+‘What a relief!’ said Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘Nay, don’t be in a hurry,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘Don’t give it to her
+unopened. Your only safety is in maintaining your right to see all the
+child’s letters, except what her father specified.’
+
+‘Don’t you wish it was you, Brownie?’ asked her cousin.
+
+‘I hate it!’ said Lady Merrifield; ‘but I suppose I ought! However,
+there’s no harm in this, that’s a comfort; it is simply that the
+gentleman that the house is let to has found this note to her somewhere
+about, and thinks she would wish to have it. I think it is her mother’s
+hand. How nice of him!’
+
+‘Now, Lily, don’t go and be too apologetic,’ said Jane. ‘Assert your
+right, or you’ll have it all over again.’
+
+‘Without Jenny to do prudence,’ said Lord Rotherwood, while Lady
+Merrifield, hardly hearing either of them, hurried on in search of her
+niece, but they would have been satisfied if they could have heard her.
+
+‘My dear, here’s your letter. I am so sorry to have been too much
+hindered to look at it before. You must not mind, Dolly. I know it is
+very disagreeable; but every one who has the care of precious articles
+like young ladies is bound to look after them.’
+
+Dolores took the letter with a kind of acknowledgement, but no more,
+for its detention offended her, and she was aggrieved at the prospect of
+future inspection, as another cruel stroke inflicted upon her.
+
+Aunt Adeline was found in the drawing-room, where she had entertained
+such ladies as were afraid of the damp, or who did not approve of the
+dancing, and would not look on at it. Thence all went off to a merry
+meal, where the elders plunged into old stories, and went on capping
+each others’ recollections and making fun, to the extreme delight of
+the young folk, who had often been entertained with tales of Beechcroft.
+Aunt Ada declared that she had not laughed so much for ten years, and
+Aunt Jane declared that it was too bad to lower their dignity and be so
+absurd before all these young things.
+
+‘It’s having four of the old set together!’ said Lord Rotherwood; ‘a
+chance one doesn’t get every day. I wonder how soon Maurice and Phyllis
+will meet.’
+
+‘It depends on whether the Zenobia touches at Auckland before going to
+the Fijis,’ said Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘There is at least a sort of neighbourhood between them,’ said Miss
+Mohun, ‘though it may be about as close as between us and Sicily.’
+
+‘She is looking out for Maurice,’ said Aunt Ada. ‘She wrote, only it was
+too late, to propose his bringing Dolores to be at least nearer to him.’
+
+‘Just like Phyllis!’ ejaculated the marquess. ‘You have one of your
+flock with something of her countenance, Lily.’
+
+‘I am so glad you see it, Rotherwood. It is what I am always trying
+to believe in, and I hope the likeness is a little within as well as
+without--but we poor creatures who have been tumbled about the world get
+sophisticated, and can’t attain to the sweet, blundering freshness of
+“Honest Simplicity.”’
+
+‘It is a plant that must be spontaneous--can’t be grown to order.’
+
+‘His lordship’s carriage at the door,’ announced Macrae.
+
+‘Ah, well! Trains must be caught, I suppose. I’m glad you’re settled
+here, Lilias. I feel as if a sort of reflex of old Beechcroft were
+attainable now.’
+
+‘I hope it won’t be a G.F.S. day next time you come!’
+
+‘Oh, it was very jolly. I shall bring my child next time, if I can get
+her out of the clutches of the governesses for a day, but it is a hard
+matter. They look daggers at me if I put my head into the schoolroom.’
+
+‘You always were a dangerous element there, you know.’
+
+‘Poor dear Eleanor! What did I not make her go through! But she never
+went the length of one of my lady’s governesses, who declared that
+she had as much call to interfere in my stable, as I had with her
+schoolroom.’
+
+‘What mischief were you doing there?’
+
+‘Well, if you must know, I was enlivening a very dry and Cromwellian
+abridgement with some of Lily’s old cavalier anecdotes, so Lily was at
+the bottom of it, you see.’
+
+‘But did she fall on you then and there?’
+
+‘No, no. I trust my beard is too grey for that. But she looked at me
+with impressive dignity such as neither poor little Fly nor I could
+stand, and afterwards betook herself to Victoria, who, I am happy to
+say, sent her to the right about.’
+
+‘As I am about to do,’ said Lady Merrifield; ‘for if you don’t miss
+your train, it will be by cruelty to animals. No, you’ve not got time to
+shake hands with all that rabble. Be off with you.’
+
+‘Ah! I shall tell Victoria that if she sees me tomorrow it’s all owing
+to your unpitying punctuality,’ said he, shaking himself into his
+overcoat.
+
+‘Dear old fellow!’ said Lady Merrifield, as she turned from the front
+door, while he drove off. ‘He is like a gust of old Beechcroft air! But
+I should think Victoria had a handful.’
+
+‘She knew what she was doing,’ said Aunt Ada. ‘I always thought she
+married him for the sake of breaking him in.’
+
+‘And very well she has done it, too,’ returned Aunt Jane. ‘Only now and
+then he gets a holiday, and then the real creature breaks out again.
+But it is much better so. He would not have been of half so much good
+otherwise.’
+
+Lady Merrifield looked from one to the other, but said no more, for
+all the young folks were round her; but every one was so much tired,
+children, servants, and all, that prayers were read early, and all went
+to their rooms. Yet, tired as she was, Lady Merrifield sat on in her
+sister Jane’s room, in her dressing-gown, talking according to another
+revival of olden time.
+
+‘What did Ada mean about Rotherwood? Isn’t he happy?’
+
+‘Oh yes, very happy; and it is much the best thing that could have
+happened. It is only another of the proofs that life is very long,
+especially for men.’
+
+‘Come, now, tell me all about it. You don’t know how often I feel as if
+I had been buried and dug up again.’
+
+‘There are things one can’t write about. Poor fellow! he never really
+wanted to marry anybody but Phyllis.’
+
+‘No! you don’t mean it! I never knew it.’
+
+‘No, for you were in the utmost parts of the earth; and he was very
+good, so that I don’t believe honest Phyl herself, or any one without
+eyes, guessed it; but he had it all out with our father, who begged him,
+almost on that allegiance he had always shown, to abstain from beginning
+about it. You see, not only are they first cousins, but our mother and
+his father both were consumptive, and there was dear Claude even then
+regularly breaking down every winter, and Ada needing to be looked after
+like a hothouse plan. I’m sure, when I think of the last generation of
+Devereuxes, I wonder so many of us have been tough enough to weather
+the dangerous age; and there had been an alarm or two about Rotherwood
+himself. Well, he was very good, half from obedience, half from being
+convinced that it would be a selfish thing, and especially from being
+wholly convinced that Phyl’s feelings were not stirred. That was the way
+I came to know about it, for papa took me out for a drive in the old gig
+to ask what I thought about her heart, and I could truly and honestly
+say she had never found it, cared for Rotherwood just as she did for
+Reggie, and was not the sort to think whether a man was attentive to
+her. Besides, she was eighteen, and he thirty-one, and she thought him
+venerable. I believe, if he had asked her then, she might have taken him
+(because Cousin Rotherwood wished it), but she would have had to fall in
+love in the second place instead of the first. Well, he was very good,
+poor old fellow, except that by way of taking himself off, and diverting
+his mind, he went dear-stalking with such unnecessary vehemence that a
+Scotch mist was very nearly the death of him, and he discovered that he
+had as many lungs as other people. If you could only have seen our dear
+old father then, how distressed and how guilty he felt, and how he used
+to watch Phyllis, and examine Alethea and me as to whether she seemed
+more than reasonably concerned for Rotherwood had come and hit the right
+nail on the head he might have carried her off.’
+
+‘But he didn’t.’
+
+‘No; for, you see, he was ill enough to convince himself, as well as
+other people, that he was a consumptive Devereux after all.’
+
+‘Oh yes! I remember the shock with which I heard like a doom that he was
+going the way of the others; and hen he and the dear Claude came out
+in his yacht to us at Gibraltar, and were so bright! We had a wonderful
+little journey into Spain together, and how Jasper enjoyed it! Little
+did I think I was never to see Claude here again. But it was true,
+was it not, that all Rotherwood’s care gave the dear fellow much more
+comfort--perhaps kept him longer?’
+
+‘I am sure it was so. Rotherwood soon got over his own attachment--the
+missing an English winter was all he needed; but he would hear of
+nothing but devoting himself to Claude. Papa and Claude were both uneasy
+at his going off from all his cares and duties, but I believe--and
+Claude knew it--that he actually could not settle down quietly while
+Phyllis remained unmarried, and that having Claude to nurse and carry
+about from climate was the comfort of his life. Or, I believe, dear
+Claude would have been glad to have been left in peace to do what he
+could. Well, then Phyllis and Ada went to stay in the Close with Emily,
+and Ada wrote conscious letters and came home bridling and blushing
+about Captain May, so that we were quite prepared for his turning up at
+Beechcroft, but not at all for what I saw before he had been ten minutes
+in the house, that it was Phyllis that he meant, and had meant all
+along! Dear Harry! it almost made up for its not being Rotherwood. Well,
+poor Ada! It hadn’t gone too deep, happily, and I opened her eyes in
+time to hinder any demonstration that could have left pain and shame--at
+least, I think so; but poor Ada has had too many little fits for one to
+have told much more than another. I believe Phyl did tell Harry that
+he meant Ada, but she let herself be convinced to the contrary; and
+the only objection I have to it is his having taken that appointment
+at Auckland, and carried her out of reach of any of us. However, it was
+better for Rotherwood, and when she was gone, and his occupation over
+with our dear Claude, his mother was always at him to let her see him
+married before she died. And so he let her have her way. No, don’t look
+concerned. Lady Rotherwood is an excellent, good woman, just the wife
+for him, and he knows it, and does as she tells him most faithfully and
+gratefully. They are pattern-folk from top to toe, and so is the boy.
+But the girl! He would have his way, and named her Phyllis--Fly he calls
+her. She is a little skittish elf--Rotherwood himself all over; and
+doesn’t he worship her! and doesn’t he think it a holiday to carry her
+off to play pranks with! and isn’t he happy to get amongst a good lot of
+us, and be his old self again!’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. -- MY PERSECUTED UNCLE
+
+
+
+Dolores was allowed to go to Casement Cottage on Sunday. It was always
+rather an awful thing to her to get through the paddock when the
+farmer’s cattle turned out there. She did not mind it so much in the
+broad road and in the midst of a large party, with Hal among them, and
+no dogs; but alone with only one companion, and in the easy path which
+was the shortest way to the cottage, she winced and trembled at the
+little black, shaggy Scotch oxen, with white horns and faces that looked
+to her very wild and fierce.
+
+‘Oh, Gillian, those creatures! Can’t we go the other way?’
+
+‘No; it is a great deal further round, and there’s no time. They won’t
+hurt. The farmer engaged not to turn out anything vicious here.’
+
+‘But how can he be sure?’
+
+‘Well, don’t come if you don’t like it,’ said Gillian, impatiently. ‘It
+is your own concern. I must go.’
+
+Dolores did not like the notion of Constance being told that she would
+not come because she was afraid of the oxen. She thought it very unkind
+of Gillian, but she came, and kept carefully on the side furthest from
+the formidable animals. And Gillian really was forbearing. She did make
+allowances for the London-bred girl’s fears; and the only thing she did
+was, that when one of the animals lifted up its head and looked, and
+Dolores made a spring as if to run away, she caught the girl’s arm,
+crying, ‘Don’t! That’s the very way to make him run after you.’
+
+They got safe out of the paddock at last, and rang at the door. They
+were both kissed, Dolores with especial affectionateness, because the
+good ladies pitied her so much; and then while Miss Hacket and Gillian
+went off to their class, Constance took Dolores up into her own room,
+and began to tell her how disappointed she was not to have seen more of
+her at the Festival.
+
+‘But those curates would not let me alone. I was obliged to attend to
+them.’
+
+And then she was very eager to know all about Lord Rotherwood, which
+rather amazed Dolores, who had been in the habit of hearing her father
+mention him as ‘that mad fellow Rotherwood,’ while her mother always
+spoke with contempt of people who ran after lords and ladies, and had
+been heard to say that Lord Rotherwood himself was well enough, but his
+wife was a mere fine lady.
+
+But Dolores had a matter on which she was very anxious.
+
+‘Connie, do they always read one’s letters first? I mean the old people,
+like Aunt Lily.’
+
+‘What! has she been reading your letters?’
+
+‘She says she always shall, except father’s and Maude Sefton’s, because
+papa spoke to her about that. She took a letter of mine the other day,
+and never let me have it till the evening, and I am sure Aunt Jane put
+her up to it.’
+
+‘You poor darling!’ exclaimed Constance. ‘Was it anything you cared
+about?’
+
+‘Oh no--not that--but there might be. And I want to know whether she has
+the right.’
+
+‘I should not have thought Lady Merrifield would have been so like an
+old schoolmistress. Miss Dormer always did, the old cat! where I went to
+school,’ said Constance. ‘We did hate it so! She looked over every one’s
+letters, except parents’, so that we never could have anything nice,
+except by a chance or so.’
+
+‘It is tyranny,’ said Dolores, solemnly. ‘I do not see why one should
+submit to it.’
+
+‘We had dodges,’ continued Constance, warming with the history of her
+school-days, and far too eager to talk to think of the harm she might be
+doing to the younger girl. ‘Sometimes, when a lot of us went to a shop
+with one of the governesses, one would slip out and post a letter.
+Fraulein was so short-sighted, she never guessed. We used to call her
+the jolly old Kafer. But Mademoiselle was very sharp. She once caught
+Alice Bell, so that she had to make an excuse and say she had dropped
+something. You see, she really had--the letter into the slit.’
+
+‘But that was an equivocation.’
+
+‘Oh, you darling scrupulous, long-worded child! You aren’t like the
+girls at Miss Dormer’s, only she drove us to it, you know. You’ll be
+horribly shocked, but I’ll tell you what Louie Preston did. There was
+a young man in the town whom she had met at a picnic in the holidays--a
+clerk, he was, at the bank--and he used to put notes to her under the
+cushions at church; but one unlucky Sunday, Louie had a cold and didn’t
+go, and she told Mabel Blisset to bring it, and Mabel didn’t understand
+the right place, and went poking about, so that Miss Dormer found it
+out, and there was such a row!’
+
+‘Wasn’t that rather vulgar?’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Well, he was only a clerk, but he was a duck of a man, with regular
+auburn hair, you know. And he sang! We used to go to the Choral Society
+concerts, and he sang ballads so beautifully, and always looked at
+Louie!’
+
+‘I should not care for anything of that sort,’ said Dolores. ‘I think it
+is bad form.’
+
+‘So it is,’ said Constance, seriously, ‘only one can’t help recollecting
+the fun of the thing, and what one was driven to in those days. Is there
+any one you are anxious to correspond with?’
+
+‘Not in particular, only I can’t bear to have Aunt Lilias meddling with
+my letters; and there’s a poor uncle of mine that I know would not like
+her, or any of the Mohuns, to see his letters.
+
+‘Indeed! Your poor mamma’s brother?’ cried Constance, full of curiosity.
+
+‘Mind, it is in confidence. You must never tell any one.’
+
+‘Never. Oh, you may trust me!’ cried Constance.
+
+‘Her half-brother,’ said Dolores; and the girl proceeded to tell
+Constance what she had told Maude Sefton about Mr. Flinders, and how her
+mother had been used to assist him out of her own earnings, and how he
+had met her at Exeter station, and was so disappointed to have missed
+her father. Constance listened most eagerly, greatly delighted to have a
+secret confided to her, and promising to keep it with all her might.
+
+‘And now,’ said Dolores, ‘what shall I do? If poor Uncle Alfred writes
+to me, Aunt Lilias will have the letter and read it, and the Mohuns are
+all so stuck up; they will despise him, and very likely she will never
+let me have the letter.’
+
+‘Yes, but, dear, couldn’t you write here, with my things, and tell him
+how it is, and tell him to write under cover to me?’
+
+‘Dear Connie! How good you are! Yes, that would be quite delightful!’
+
+All the confidences and all the caresses had, however, taken quite as
+long as the G.F.S. class, and before Constance had cleared a space on
+the table for Dolores’s letter, there was a summons to say that Gillian
+was ready to go home.
+
+‘So early!’ said Constance. ‘I thought you would have had tea and stayed
+to evening service.’
+
+‘I should like it so much,’ cried Dolores, remembering that it would
+spare her the black oxen in the cross-path, as well as giving her the
+time with her friend.
+
+So they went down with the invitation, but Gillian replied that mamma
+always liked to have all together for the Catechism, and that she could
+not venture to leave Dolores without special permission.
+
+‘Quite right, my dear,’ said Miss Hacket. ‘Connie would be very sorry to
+do anything against Lady Merrifield’s rules. We shall see you again in a
+day or two.’
+
+And this is the way in which Constance kept her friend’s secret. When
+Miss Hacket had done her further work with a G.F.S. young woman who
+needed private instruction to prepare her for baptism, the two sisters
+sat down to a leisurely tea before starting for evensong; in the first
+place, Constance detailed all she had discovered as to the connection
+with Lord Rotherwood, in which subject, it must be confessed, good Miss
+Hacket took a lively interest, having never so closely encountered a
+live marquess, ‘and so affable,’ she contended; upon which Constance
+declared that they were all stuck-up, and were very unkind and hard to
+poor darling Dolores.
+
+‘I don’t know. I cannot fancy dear Lady Merrifield being unkind to any
+one, especially a dear girl as good as an orphan,’ said Miss Hacket,
+who, if not the cleverest of women, was one of the best and most
+warm-hearted. ‘And, indeed, Connie, I don’t think dear Gillian and Mysie
+feel at all unkindly to their cousin.’
+
+‘Ah! that’s just like you, Mary. You never see more than the outside,
+but then I am in dear Dolly’s confidence.’
+
+‘What do you mean, Connie?’ said Miss Hacket, eagerly.
+
+Constance had come home from school with the reputation of being much
+more accomplished than her elder sister, who had grown up while her
+father was a curate of very straitened means, and thus, though her
+junior, she was thought wonderfully superior in discernment and
+everything else.
+
+‘Well,’ said Constance, ‘what do you think of Lady Merrifield sending
+her to bed for staying late here that morning?’
+
+‘That was strict, certainly; but you know she sent Mysie too. It was all
+my own thoughtlessness for detaining them,’ said the good elder sister.
+‘I was so grieved!’
+
+‘Yes,’ said Constance, ‘it sounds all very well to say Mysie was treated
+in the same way, but in the afternoon Mysie was allowed to go and make
+messes with blackberry jam, while poor Dolly was kept shut up in the
+schoolroom!’
+
+Constance did not like Lady Merrifield, who had unconsciously snubbed
+some of her affectations, and nipped in the bud a flirtation with Harry,
+besides calling off some of the curates to be helpful. But Miss Hacket
+admired her neighbour as much as her sister would permit, and made
+answer--
+
+‘It is so hard to judge, my dear, without knowing all. Perhaps Mysie had
+finished her lessons.’
+
+‘Ah! I know you always are for Lady Merrifield! But what do you say,
+then, to her prying into all that poor child’s correspondence?’
+
+‘My dear, I think most people do think it advisable to have some check
+on young girl’s letters. Perhaps Dolores’s father desired it.’
+
+‘He never put on any restrictions,’ said Constance. ‘I am sure he
+never would. Men don’t. It is always women, with their nasty, prying,
+tyrannous instincts.’
+
+‘I am sure,’ returned Mary, ‘one would not think a child like Dolores
+Mohun could have anything to conceal.’
+
+‘But she has!’ cried Constance.
+
+‘No, my dear! Impossible!’ exclaimed Miss Hacket, looking very much
+shocked. ‘Why, she can’t be fourteen!’
+
+‘Oh! it is nothing of that sort. Don’t think about that, Mary.’
+
+‘No, no, I know, Connie dear; you would never listen to any young girl’s
+confidence of that kind--so improper and so vulgar,’ said Miss Hacket,
+and Constance did not think it necessary to reveal her knowledge of the
+post-office under the cushions at church, and other little affairs of
+that sort.
+
+‘It is her uncle,’ said Constance. ‘Her mother, it seems, though quite
+a lady, was the daughter of a professor, a very learned man, very
+distinguished, and all that, but not a high family enough to please
+the Mohuns, and they never were friendly with her, or treated her as an
+equal.’
+
+‘That couldn’t have been Lady Merrifield,’ persevered Miss Hacket. ‘She
+lamented to me herself that she had been out of England for so many
+years that she had scarcely seen Mrs. Maurice Mohun.’
+
+‘Well, there were the Miss Mohuns and all the rest!’ said Constance.
+‘Why, Dolores has only once been at the family place. And her mother had
+a brother, an author and a journalist, a very clever man, and the Mohuns
+have always regularly persecuted him. He has been very unfortunate,
+and Mrs. Maurice Mohun has done her utmost to help him, writing in
+periodicals and giving the proceeds to him. Wasn’t that sweet? And now
+Dolores feels quite cut off from him; and she is so fond of him, poor
+darling for her mother’s sake.’
+
+Tender-hearted as Miss Hacket was, she had seen enough of life to have
+some inkling of what being very unfortunate might sometimes mean.
+
+‘I should think,’ she said, ‘that Lady Merrifield would never withhold
+from the child any letter it was proper she should have, especially from
+a relation.’
+
+‘Yes, but I tell you she did keep back a letter on the festival day till
+she had looked at it. Poor Dolores saw it come, and she saw a glance
+pass between her and Miss Mohun, and she is quite sure, she says, her
+Aunt Jane had been poisoning her mind about this poor persecuted uncle,
+and that she shall never be allowed to hear from him.’
+
+‘I don’t suppose there can be much for him to say to her,’ said Miss
+Hacket. Then, after a little reflection, ‘Connie, my dear, I really
+think you had better not interfere. There may be reasons that this poor
+child knows nothing about for keeping her aloof from this uncle.’
+
+‘Oh! but her mother helped him.’
+
+‘She was his sister. That was quite another thing. Indeed, Connie,’ said
+Miss Hacket, more earnestly, ‘I am quite sure that you will use your
+influence--and you have a great deal of influence, you know--most kindly
+by persuading this dear child to be happy with the Merrifields and
+submit to their arrangements.’
+
+‘You are infatuated with Lady Merrifield,’ muttered Constance. ‘Ah! how
+little you know!’
+
+Here the first warning note of the bell ended the discussion, and
+Constance did not think it necessary to tell her sister of the offer
+she had made to Dolores. In her eyes, Mary, who was the eldest of the
+family, had always been of the dull, grown-up, authoritative faction of
+the elders, while she herself was still one of the sweet junior party,
+full of antagonism to them, and ready to elude them in any way. Besides,
+she had promised her darling Dolores; and the thing was quite romantic;
+nor could any one call it blame-worthy, since it was nothing like a
+lover--not even a young man, but only a persecuted uncle in distress.
+
+So she awaited anxiously the next Sunday when Dolores’s letter was to
+be written in her room. To tell the truth, Dolores could quite as easily
+have written in her own, and brought down the letter in her pocket, if
+she had been eager about the matter; but she was not, except under the
+influence of making a grievance. She had never written to Uncle Alfred
+in her life, nor he to her; and his visits to her mother had always led
+to something uncomfortable. Nor would she have thought about the subject
+at all if it had not been for the sore sense that she was cut off from
+him, as she fancied, because he belonged to her mother.
+
+Nothing particular had happened that week. There had been no very
+striking offences one way or the other; she was working better with her
+lessons and understanding more of Miss Vincent’s methods. She perceived
+that they were thorough, and respected them accordingly, and she had had
+the great satisfaction of getting more good marks for French and German
+than Mysie. She had become interested in ‘The Old Oak Staircase,’ and
+began to look forward to Aunt Lily’s readings as the best part of the
+day. But she had not drawn in the least nearer to any of the family.
+She absolutely disliked, almost hated, the quarter of an hour which Aunt
+Lily devoted to her religious teaching every morning, though nobody was
+present, not even Primrose. She nearly refused to learn, and said as
+badly as possible the very small portions she was bidden to learn by
+heart, and she closed her mind up against taking in the sense of the
+very short readings and her aunt’s comments on them. It seemed to her
+to be treating her like a Sunday-school child, and insulting her mother,
+who had never troubled her in this manner. Her aunt said no word of
+reproach, except to insist on attention and accuracy of repetition; but
+there came to be an unusual gravity and gentleness about her in these
+lessons, as if she were keeping a guard over herself, and often a
+greatly disappointed look, which exasperated Dolores much more than a
+scolding.
+
+Mysie had left off courting her cousin, finding that it only brought
+her rebuffs, and went her own way as before, pleased and honoured when
+Gillian would consort with her, but generally paring with her younger
+sister.
+
+Dolores, though hitherto ungracious, missed her attentions, and decided
+that they were ‘all falseness.’ Wilfred absolutely did tease and annoy
+her whenever he could, Fergus imitated him, and Valetta enjoyed and
+abetted him. These three had all been against her ever since the affair
+of the arrow; but Wilfred had not many opportunities of tormenting her,
+for in the house there was a perpetual quiet supervision and influence.
+Mrs. Halfpenny was sure to detect traps in the passage, or bounces at
+the door. Miss Vincent looked daggers if other people’s lesson books
+were interfered with. Mamma had eyes all round, and nobody dared to
+tease or play tricks in her presence. Hal, Gillian, and even Mysie
+always thwarted such amiable acts as putting a dead wasp into a shoe,
+or snapping a book in the reader’s face; while, as to venturing into
+the general family active games, Dolores would have felt it like rushing
+into a corobboree of savages!
+
+There was one wet afternoon when they could not even get as far as to
+the loft over the stables; at least the little ones could not have done
+so, and it was decided that it would be very cruel to them for all the
+others to run off, and leave them to Mrs. Halfpenny; so the plan was
+given up.
+
+Partly because Lady Merrifield thought it very amiable in Mysie and
+Valetta to make the sacrifice, and partly to disperse the thundercloud
+she saw gathering on Wilfred’s brow, she not only consented to a
+magnificent and extraordinary game at wolves and bears all over the
+house, but even devoted herself to keeping Mrs. Halfpenny quiet by
+shutting herself into the nursery to look over all the wardrobes, and
+decide what was to ‘go down’ in the family, and what was to be given
+away, and what must be absolutely renewed. It was an operation that Mrs.
+Halfpenny enjoyed so much, that it warranted her to be deaf to shrieks
+and trampling, and almost to forget the chances of gathers and kilting
+being torn out, and trap-doors appearing in skirts and pinafores.
+
+All that time Dolores sat hunched up in her own room, reading ‘Clare,
+or No Home,’ and realizing the persecutions suffered by that afflicted
+child, who had just been nearly drowned in rescuing her wickedest
+cousin, and was being carried into her noble grandfather’s house, there
+to be recognized by her golden hair being exactly the colour it was when
+she was a baby.
+
+There were horrible growlings at times outside her door, and she
+bolted it by way of precaution. Once there was a bounce against it, but
+Gillian’s voice might be heard in the distance calling off the wolves.
+
+Then came a lull. The wolves and bears had rushed up and down stairs
+till they were quite exhausted and out of breath, especially as Primrose
+had always been a cub, and gone in the arms of Hal or Gillian; Fergus
+at last had rolled down three steps, and been caught by Wilfred, who,
+in his character of bear, hugged and mauled him till his screams grew
+violent. Harry had come to the rescue, and it was decided that there
+had been enough of this, and that there should be a grand exhibition of
+tableaux from the history of England in the dining-room, which of course
+mamma was to guess, with the assistance of any one who was not required
+to act.
+
+Mama, ever obliging, hastily condemned two or three sunburnt hats and
+ancient pairs of shoes, to be added to the bundle for Miss Hacket’s
+distribution, and let herself be hauled off to act audience.
+
+‘But where’s Dolly?’ she asked, as she looked at the assemblage on the
+stairs.
+
+‘Bolted into her room, like a donkey,’ said Wilfred, the last clause
+under his breath.
+
+‘Indeed, mamma, we did ask her, and gave her the choice between wolves
+and bears,’ said Mysie.
+
+‘Unfortunately she is bear without choosing,’ said Gill.
+
+‘A sucking of her paws in a hollow tree,’ chimed in Hal.
+
+‘Hush! hush!’ said Lady Merrifield, looking pained; ‘perhaps the choice
+seemed very terrible to a poor only child like that. We, who had the
+luck to be one of many, don’t know what wild cats you may all seem to
+her.’
+
+‘She never will play at anything,’ said Val.
+
+‘She doesn’t know how to,’ said Mysie.
+
+‘And won’t be taught,’ added Wilfred.
+
+‘But that’s very dreadful,’ exclaimed Lady Merrifield. ‘Fancy a poor
+child of thirteen not knowing how to play. I shall go and dig her out!’
+
+So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to which Dolores
+answered--
+
+‘Can’t you let me alone? Go away,’ thinking it a treacherous ruse of the
+enemy to effect an entrance; but when her aunt said--
+
+‘Is there anything the matter, my dear? Won’t you let me in?’ she was
+obliged to open it.
+
+‘No, there’s nothing the matter,’ she allowed. ‘Only I wanted them to
+let me alone.’
+
+‘They have not been rude to you, I hope.’
+
+Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention the bouncing, so she
+allowed that no one had been rude to her, but she hated romping, which
+she managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt for suffering it.
+
+However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said--
+
+‘Ah! you have not been used to wholesome exercise in large families. I
+dare say it seems formidable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale.
+I can’t allow you to stay stuffed up there, poking over a book all the
+afternoon. It is very bad for you. We are going to have some historical
+tableaux. They are to have one set, and I thought perhaps you and I
+would get up some for them to guess in turn.’
+
+Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she did not quite dare to
+say she did not choose to make herself ridiculous, and she knew there
+was authority in the tone, so she followed and endured.
+
+So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before the bright grate in the
+dining-room, and having his ears beautifully boxed. Also Knut and the
+waves, which were graphically represented by letting the wind in under
+the drugget, and pulling it up gradually over his feet, but these, Mysie
+explained, were only for the little ones. Rollo and his substitute doing
+homage to Charles the Simple, were much more effective; as Gillian in
+that old military cloak of her father’s, which had seen as much service
+in the play-room as in the field, stood and scowled at Wilfred in the
+crown and mamma’s ermine mantle, being overthrown by Harry at his full
+height.
+
+The excitement was immense when it was announced that mamma had a
+tableau to represent with the help of Dolores, who was really warming
+a little to the interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike being
+dressed up with one of the boy’s caps with three ostrich feathers, to
+accompany her aunt in hood and cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who had,
+together with the bow and papa’s old regimental sword, been borrowed to
+personate the robber of Hexham. Everybody screamed with ecstasy except
+Fergus, who thought it very hard that he should not have been Prince
+Edward instead of a stupid girl.
+
+So, to content all parties, mama undertook to bring in as many as
+possible, and a series from the life of Elizabeth Woodville was
+accordingly arranged.
+
+She stood under the oak, represented by the hall chandelier, with Fergus
+and Primrose as her infant sons, and fascinated King Edward on
+the rocking-horse, which was much too vivant, for it reared as
+perpendicularly as it could, and then nearly descended on its nose, to
+mark the rider’s feelings.
+
+Then, with her hair let down, which was stipulated for, though, as she
+observed, nothing would make it the right colour, she sat desolate on
+the hearth, surrounded by as many daughters as could be spared from
+being spectators, as her youngest son was born off from her maternal
+arms by a being as like a cardinal as a Galway cloak, disposed tippet
+fashion, could make him.
+
+She could not be spared to put up her hair again before she had to
+forget her maternal feelings and be mere audience, while her two sons
+were smothered by Mysie and Dolores, converted into murderers one
+and two by slouched hats. Fergus, a little afraid of being actually
+suffocated, began to struggle, setting off Wilfred, and the adventure
+was having a conclusion, which would have accounted for the authentic
+existence of Perkin Warbeck, when--oh horror! there was a peal at the
+door-bell, and before there was a moment for the general scurry,
+Herbert the button-boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted
+Mr. Leadbitter, to whom, as a late sixth standard boy, he had a special
+allegiance, and, having spied him coming, hurried to let him in out of
+the rain instantly.
+
+At least, such was the charitable interpretation. Harry strongly
+suspected that the imp had been a concealed spectator all the time, and
+had particularly relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which, after
+all, was much greater on the part of the Vicar than any one else, as
+he was a rather stiff, old-fashioned gentleman. Lady Merrifield only
+laughed, said she had been beguiled into wet day sports with the
+children, begged him to excuse her for a moment or two, and tripped
+away, followed by Gillian to help her, quickly reappearing in her lace
+cap as the graceful matron, even before Mr. Leadbitter had quite done
+blushing and quoting to Harry ‘desipere in loco,’ as he was assisted off
+with his dripping, shiny waterproof.
+
+After all no harm would have been done if--Harry and Gillian being
+both off guard--Valetta had not exclaimed most unreasonably in her
+disappointment--
+
+‘I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores came in for it.’
+
+‘Yes, Mr. Murderer, you squashed my little finger and all but smothered
+me,’ cried Fergus, throwing himself on Dolores and dropping her down.
+
+‘Don’t! don’t! you know you mustn’t,’ screamed valiant Mysie, flying to
+the rescue.
+
+‘Murderers! Murderers must be done for,’ shouted Wilfred, falling upon
+Mysie.
+
+‘You shan’t hurt my Mysie,’ bellowed Valetta, hurling herself upon
+Wilfred.
+
+And there they were all in a heap, when Gillian, summoned by the
+shrieks, came down from helping her mother, pulled Valetta off Wilfred,
+Wilfred off Mysie, Mysie off Fergus, and Fergus off Dolores, who was
+discovered at the bottom with an angry, frightened face, and all her
+hair standing on end.
+
+‘Are you hurt, Dolores? I am very sorry,’ said Gillian. ‘It was very
+naughty. Go up to the nursery, Fergus and Val, and be made fit to be
+seen.’
+
+They obeyed, crestfallen. Dolores felt herself all over. It would have
+been gratifying to have had some injury to complain of, but she had
+fallen on the prince’s cushions, and there really was none. So she only
+said, ‘No, I’m not hurt, though it is a wonder;’ and off she walked
+to bolt herself into her own room again, there to brood on Valetta’s
+speech.
+
+It worked up into a very telling and pathetic history for Constance’s
+sympathizing ears on Sunday, especially as it turned out to be one of
+the things not reported to mamma.
+
+And on that day, Dolores, being reminded of it by her friend, sent a
+letter to Mr. Flinders to the office of the paper for which he worked in
+London, to tell him that if he wished to write to her as he had promised
+he must address under cover to Miss Constance Hacket, Casement Cottage,
+as otherwise Aunt Lilias would certainly read all his letters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. -- LETTERS
+
+
+
+Constance Hacket was very much excited about the address to Dolores’s
+letter to her uncle. She had not noticed it at the moment that it was
+written, but she did when she posted it; and the next time she could get
+her young friend alone, she eagerly demanded what Mr. Flinders had to do
+with the Many Tongues, and why her niece wrote to him at the office.
+
+‘He writes the criticisms,’ said Dolores, magnificently; for though
+she despised pluming herself on any connection with a marquess, she
+did greatly esteem that with the world of letters. ‘You know we are all
+literary.’
+
+‘Oh yes, I know! But what kind of criticisms do you mean? I suppose it
+is a very clever paper?’
+
+‘Of course it it,’ said Dolores, ‘but I don’t think I ever saw it.
+Father never takes in society papers. I believe he does criticisms on
+plays and novels. I know he always has tickets for all the theatres and
+exhibitions.
+
+She did not say how she did know it, for a pang smote her as she
+remembered dimly a scene, when her father had forbidden her mother to
+avail herself of escort thus obtained. Nor was she sure that the word
+all was accurately the fact; but it was delightful to impress Constance,
+who cried, ‘How perfectly delicious! I suppose he can get any article
+into his paper!’
+
+‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Did your dear mother write in it?’
+
+‘No; it was not her line. She used to write metaphysical and scientific
+articles in the first-class reviews and magazines, and the Many Tongues
+is what they call a society paper, you know.’
+
+‘Oh yes, I know. There are charming things about the Upper Ten Thousand.
+They tell all that is going on, but I hardly ever can see one. Mary
+won’t take in anything about Church Bells, and we get the Guardian when
+it is a week old, and my brother James has done with it.’
+
+‘Dear me! How dreadful!’ said Dolores, who had been used to see all
+manner of papers come in as regularly as hot rolls. ‘Why, you never can
+know anything! We didn’t take in society papers, because father does not
+care for gossip or grandees. He has other pursuits. I can show you some
+of dear mother’s articles. There’s one called ‘Unconscious Volition,’
+and another on the ‘Progress of Species.’ I’ll bring them down next time
+I come.’
+
+‘Have you read them?’
+
+‘No; they are too difficult. Mother was so very clever, you know.’
+
+‘She must have been,’ said Constance, with a sigh; ‘but how did she get
+them published?’
+
+‘Sent them to the editor, of course,’ said Dolores. ‘They all knew her,
+and were glad to get anything that she wrote.’
+
+‘Ah! that is what it is to have an introduction,’ sighed Constance.
+
+‘What! have you written anything?’ cried Dolores.
+
+‘Only a few little trifles,’ said Constance, modestly. ‘It is a great
+secret, you know, a dead secret.’
+
+‘Oh! I’ll keep it. I told you my secret, you know, so you might tell me
+yours.’
+
+And so to Dolores were confided sundry verses and tales on which
+Constance had been wont to spend a good deal of her time in that pretty
+sitting-room. She had actually sent her manuscripts to magazines, but
+she had heard no more of one, and the other had been returned declined
+with thanks--all for want of an introduction. Dolores was delighted to
+promise that as soon as she heard from Uncle Alfred, she would get him
+to patronize them, and the reading occupied several Sunday afternoons.
+Dolores suggested, however, that a goody-goody story about a choir-boy
+lost in the snow would never do for the Many Tongues, and a far more
+exciting one was taken up, called ‘The Waif of the Moorland,’ being the
+story of a maiden, whom a wicked step-mother was suspected of murdering,
+but who walked from time to time like the ‘Woman in White.’ There was
+only too much time for the romance; for weeks passed and there was no
+answer from Mr. Flinders. It was possible that he might have broken off
+his connection with the paper, only then the letter would probably have
+been returned; and the other alternative was less agreeable, that it
+was not worth his while to write to his niece. While as to Maude Sefton,
+nothing was heard of her. Were her letters intercepted? And so the
+winter side of autumn set in. Hal was gone to Oxford, and there had
+been time for letters to come from Mr. Mohun, posted from Auckland,
+New Zealand, where he had made a halt with his sister, Mrs. Harry May,
+otherwise Aunt Phyllis. Dolores was very much pleased to receive her
+letter, and to have it all to herself; but, after all, she was somewhat
+disappointed in it, for there was really nothing in it that might not
+have been proclaimed round the breakfast-table, like the public letters
+from that quarter of the family who were at Rawul Pindee. It told of
+deep-sea soundings and investigations into the creatures at the bottom
+of the sea, of Portuguese men-of-war, and albatrosses; and there were
+some orders to scientific-instrument makers for her to send to them--a
+very improving letter, but a good deal like a book of travels. Only at
+the end did the writer say, ‘I hope my little daughter is happy among
+her cousins, and takes care to give her aunt no trouble, and to profit
+by her kind care. Your three cousins here, Mary, Lily, and Maggie, are
+exceedingly nice girls, and much interested about you; indeed, they wish
+I had brought you with me.’
+
+Dolores read her letter over and over and over, for the pleasure of
+having something all to herself, and never communicated a word about the
+miscroscopic monsters her father had described, but she drew her head
+back and reflected, ‘He little knows,’ when he spoke of her being happy
+among her cousins.
+
+Lady Merrifield likewise received a letter, about which she did not say
+much to her children, but Miss Mohun, who had had a much longer one,
+came over for the day to read this to her sister. In point of fact,
+she had paired in childhood with her brother Maurice. She had been
+his correspondent in school and college days, and being a person never
+easily rebuffed, she had kept up more intercourse with him and his wife
+than any others of the family had done, and he had preserved the habit
+of writing to her much more freely and unreservedly than to any one
+else. So the day after the New Zealand letters came, just as the
+historical reading and needlework were in full force, the schoolroom
+door was opened, and a brisk little figure stood there in sealskin coat
+and hat.
+
+Up jumped mamma. ‘Oh! Jenny! Brownie indeed! How did you come? You
+didn’t walk from the station?’
+
+‘Yes, why not? Otherwise I should have been too soon, and have disturbed
+the lessons,’ said Aunt Jane, in the intervals of the greeting kisses.
+‘All well with the Indian folks?’
+
+‘Oh yes; they’ve come back from the emerald valleys of Cashmere, and
+Alethea has actually sent me a primrose--just like an English one--that
+they found growing there. They did enjoy it so. Have you heard from
+Maurice?’
+
+‘Yes, I thought you would like to hear about Phyllis, so, having enjoyed
+it with Ada, I brought it over for further enjoyment with you.’
+
+‘That’s a dear old Brownie! We’ve a good hour before dinner. Shall we
+read it to the general public, or shall we adjourn to the drawing-room?’
+
+“Oh! I assure you it is very instructive. Quite as much so as Miss
+Sewell’s ‘Rome.’”
+
+And Aunt Jane, whom Gillian had aided in disrobing herself of her
+outdoor garments, was installed by the fire, and unfolded a whole volume
+of thin, mauve sheets in Mr. Mohun’s tiny Greek-looking handwriting.
+
+It was a sort of journal of his voyage. There were all the same accounts
+of the minute creatures that are incipient chalk, and their exquisite
+cells, made, some of coral, some of silex spicule from sponges; the
+some descriptions of phosphorescent animals, meduse, and the like, that
+Dolores had thought her own special treasure and privilege, only a great
+deal fuller, and with the scientific terms untranslated--indeed, Aunt
+Jane had now and then to stop and explain, since she had always kept up
+with the course of modern discovery. There was also much more about his
+shipmates, with one or two of whom Mr. Mohun had evidently made
+great friends. He told his sister a great deal about them, and his
+conversations with them, whereas he had only told Dolores abut one
+little midshipman getting into a scrape. Perhaps nothing else was to be
+expected, but it made her feel the contrast between being treated with
+real confidence and as a mere child, and it seemed to put her father
+further away from her than ever.
+
+Then came the conclusion, written on shore--
+
+‘Harry May came on board to take me home with him. He is a fine, genial
+fellow and his welcome did one’s heart good. I never did him justice
+before; but I see his good sense and superiority called into play out
+here. Depend upon it, there’s nothing like going to the other end of the
+world to teach the value of home ties.’
+
+‘Well done, Maurice,’ exclaimed Lady Merrifield; but she glanced at
+Dolores and checked herself.
+
+Miss Mohun went on, ‘Phyllis met me at the door of a pleasant,
+English-looking house, with all her tribe about her. She has the true
+‘honest Phyl’ face still, carrying me back over some thirty or forty
+years of life, and as you would imagine, she is a capital mother, with
+all her flock well in hand, and making themselves thoroughly useful
+in the scarcity of servants; though the other matters do not seem
+neglected. The eldest can talk like a well informed girl, and shows
+reasonable interest in things in general; but Phyllis wants to put
+finishing touches to their education, and her husband talks of throwing
+up his appointment before long, as he is anxious to go home while his
+father lives. I wish I had gone to Stoneborough before coming out here,
+now that I see what a gratification it would have been if I could have
+brought a fresh report of old Dr. May. (Somehow, I think there has
+been a numbness or obtuseness about me all these last two years which
+hindered me from perceiving or doing much that I now regret, since
+either the change or the wholesome atmosphere of this house has wakened
+me as it were. Among these ungracious omissions is what I now am much
+concerned to think of, that I never went to see Lilias when I committed
+my child to her charge; nor talked over her disposition. Not that I
+really understand it as I ought to have done when the poor child was
+left to me. I take shame to myself when Phyllis questions me about her),
+but as I watch these children with their parents I am quite convinced
+that the being taken under Lily’s motherly wing is by far the best thing
+that could have befallen Dolores, and that my absence is for her real
+benefit as well as mine.’
+
+The part between brackets was omitted by Miss Mohun in the public
+reading, but the last sentence she did read, thinking it good for both
+parties to hear it. However, Dolores both disliked the conclusion to
+which her father had come, and still more that her aunt and cousins
+should hear it, though, after all, it was only Gillian and Mysie who
+remained to listen by the time the end of the letter was reached. The
+long words had frightened away Valetta as soon as her appointed task of
+work was finished.
+
+Aunt Lily did not see the omitted sentence till the two sisters were
+alone together later in the afternoon. It filled her eyes with tears.
+‘Poor Maurice,’ she said; ‘he wrote something of the same kind to me.’
+
+‘I expect we shall see him wonderfully shaken up and brightened when he
+comes home. The numbness he talks of was half of it Mary’s dislike to us
+all, only I never would let her keep me aloof from him.’
+
+‘I almost wish he had taken Dolores out to Phyllis. I am not in the
+least fulfilling his ideal towards her.’
+
+‘Nor would Phyllis, unless the voyage had had as much effect on her as
+it seems to have had upon Maurice. So you don’t get on any better?’
+
+‘Not a bit. It is a case of parallel lines. We don’t often have
+collisions--unless Wilfred gets an opportunity of provoking her.’
+
+‘Why don’t you send that boy to school?’
+
+‘I shall after Christmas. He is quite well now, and to have him at home
+is bad both for himself and the others. He needs licking into shape
+as only boys can do to one another, and he is not a model for Fergus,
+especially since Harry has been away.’
+
+‘What does he do?’
+
+‘Nothing very brilliant, nor of the kind one half forgives for the
+drollery of it. Putting mustard into the custard was the worst, I think;
+inciting the dogs to bring the cattle down on the girls when they cross
+the paddock; shutting up their books when the places are found--those
+are the sort of things; putting that very life-like wild cat
+chauffe-pied with glaring eyes in Dolly’s bed. I believe he does such
+things to all, but his sisters would let him torture them rather than
+complain, whereas Dolores does her best to bring them under my notice
+without actually laying an information, which she is evidently afraid to
+do. It is very unlucky that her coming should have been just when we
+had such an element about--for it really gives her some just cause of
+complaint.’
+
+‘But you say he is impartial?’
+
+‘Teasing is unfortunately his delight. He will even frighten Primrose,
+but I am afraid there is active dislike making Dolores his favourite
+victim; and then Val and Fergus, who don’t tease actively on their own
+account, have come to enjoy her discomfiture.’
+
+“And you go on the principle of ‘tolerer beaucoup?’”
+
+‘I do; hoping that it is not laziness and weakness that makes me abstain
+from nagging about what is not brought before my eyes by the children or
+the police--I mean Gill, Halfpenny, and Miss Vincent. Then I scold, or
+I punish, and that I think maintains the principle, without danger to
+truth or forbearance. At least, I hope it does. I am pretty sure that
+if I punished Wilfred for every teasing trick I know, or guess at, he
+would--in his present mood--only become deceitful, and esprit de corps
+might make Val and Fergus the same, though I don’t think Mysie’s truth
+could be shaken any more than honest Phyl’s.’
+
+‘Besides, mutual discipline is not a thing to upset. Lily, I revere you!
+I never thought you were going to turn out such a sensible mother.’
+
+‘Well, you see, the difficulty is, that what may work for one’s
+own children may not work for other people’s. And I confess I don’t
+understand her persistent repulse of Mysie.’
+
+‘Nor of you, the nasty little cat!’ said Aunt Jane, with a little fierce
+shake of the head.
+
+‘I do understand that a little. I am too unlike Mary for her to stand
+being mothered by me.’
+
+‘There must be some other influence at work for this perverseness to
+keep on so long. Tell me, did she take up with that very goosey girl,
+that Miss Hacket?’
+
+‘Oh yes; she goes there every Sunday afternoon. It is the only thing the
+poor child seem much to care about, and I don’t think there can be any
+harm in it.’
+
+‘Humph! the folly of girl is unfathomable! Oh! you may say what you
+like--you who have thrown yourself into your daughters and kept them
+one with you. You little know in your innocence the product of an
+ill-managed boarding-school!’
+
+‘Nay,’ said Lady Merrifield, a little hotly, ‘I do know that Miss Hacket
+is one of the most excellent people in the world, a little tiresome and
+borne, perhaps, but thoroughly good, and every inch a lady.’
+
+‘Granted, but that’s not the other one--Constance is her name? My dear,
+I saw her goings on at the G.F.S. affair--If she had only been a member,
+wouldn’t I have been at her.’
+
+‘My dear Jenny, you always had more eyes to your share than other
+people.’
+
+‘And you think that being an old maid has not lessened their sharpness,
+eh! Lily? Well, I can’t help it, but my notion is that the sweet
+Constance--whatever her sister may be--is the boarding-school miss a
+little further developed into sentiment and flirtation.’
+
+‘Nay, but that would be so utterly uncongenial to a grave, reserved,
+intellectual girl, brought up as Dolores has been.’
+
+‘Don’t trust to that! Dolores is an interesting orphan, and the notice
+of a grown-up young lady is so flattering that it carries off a great
+deal of folly.’
+
+‘Well, Jenny, I must think about it. I hope I have done no harm by
+allowing the friendship--the only indulgence she has seemed to wish
+for; and I am afraid checking it would only alienate he still more! Poor
+Maurice, when he is trusting and hoping in vain!’
+
+‘Three year is a long time, Lily; and you have no had three months of
+her yet--’
+
+The door opened at that moment for the afternoon tea, which was earlier
+than usual, to follow of Miss Mohun’s reaching the station in time for
+her train. Lady Merrifield was to drive her, and it was the turn of
+Dolores to go out, so that she shared the refection instead of waiting
+for gouter. In the midst the Miss Hackets were announced, and there were
+exclamations of great joy at the sight of Miss Mohun; as she and Miss
+Hacket flew upon each other, and to the very last moment, discussed the
+all-engrossing subject of G.F.S. politics.
+
+Nevertheless, while Miss Mohun was hurrying on her sealskin in her
+sister’s room, she found an opportunity of saying, ‘Take care, Lily, I
+saw a note pass between those two.’
+
+‘My dear Jenny, how could you? You were going on the whole time about
+cards and premiums and associates. Oh! yes, I know a peacock or a lynx
+is nothing to you, but how was it possible? Why, I was making talk to
+Constance all along, and trying to make Dolly speak of her father’s
+letter.’
+
+‘I might retort by talking of moles and bats! Did you never hear of
+the London clergyman whose silver cream-jug, full of cream too, was
+abstracted by the penitent Sunday school boy whom he was exhorting over
+his breakfast-table?’
+
+‘I don’t believe London curates have silver jugs or cream either!’
+
+‘A relic of past wealth, like St. Gregory’s one silver dish, and perhaps
+it was milk. Well, to descend to particulars. It was done with a meaning
+glance, as Dolores was helping her on with her cloud, and was instantly
+disposed of in the pocket.’
+
+‘I wonder what I ought to do about it,’ sighed Lady Merrifield, ‘If I
+had seen it myself I should have no doubts. Oh! if Jasper were but here!
+And yet it is hardly a thing to worry him about. It is most likely to be
+quite innocent.’
+
+‘Well, then you can speak of the appearance of secrecy as bad manners.
+You will have her all to yourself as you go home.’
+
+But when the aunts came downstairs, Dolores was not there. On being
+called, she sent a voice down, over the balusters, that she was not
+going.
+
+Aunt Jane shrugged her shoulders. There was barely time to reach the
+train, so that it was impossible to do anything at the moment; but in
+the Merrifield family bad manners and disrespect were never passed over,
+Sir Jasper having made his wife very particular in that respect; and as
+soon as she came home in the twilight, she looked into the school-room,
+but Dolores was not there, and then into the drawing-room, where she was
+found learning her lessons by firelight.
+
+‘My dear, why did you not go with your Aunt Jane and me?’
+
+‘I did not want to go. It was so cold,’ said Dolores in a glum tone.
+
+‘Would it not have been kinder to have found that out sooner? If I had
+not met the others in the paddock, and picked up Valetta, the chance
+would have been missed, and you knew she wanted to go.’
+
+Dolores knew it well enough. The reason she was in this room was that
+all the returning party had fallen upon her; Wilfred had called her a
+dog in the manger, and Gillian herself had not gainsayed him--but the
+general indignation had only made her feel, ‘what a fuss about the
+darling.’
+
+‘Another time, too,’ added Lady Merrifield, ‘remember that it would
+be proper to come down and speak to me instead of shouting over the
+balusters in that unmannerly way; without so much as taking leave of
+your Aunt Jane. If she had not been almost late for her train, I should
+have insisted.’
+
+‘You might, and I should not have come if you had dragged me,’ thought,
+but did not say, Dolores. She only stood looking dogged, and not
+attempting the ‘I beg your pardon,’ for which her aunt was waiting.
+
+‘I think,’ said Lady Merrifield, gently, ‘that when you consider it a
+little, you will see that it would be well to be more considerate and
+gracious. And one thing more, my dear, I can have no passing of private
+notes between you and Constance Hacket. You see a good deal of each
+other openly, and such doings are very silly and missish, and have an
+underhand appearance such as I am sure your father would not like.’
+
+Dolores burst out with, ‘I didn’t,’ and as Primrose at this instant ran
+in to help mamma take off her things, she turned on her heel and went
+away, leaving Lady Merrifield trusting to a word never hitherto in that
+house proved to be false, rather than to those glances of Aunt Jane,
+which had been always held in the Mohun family to be a little too
+discerning and ubiquitous to be always relied on; and it was a
+satisfactory recollection that at the farewell moment when Miss Jane
+professed to have observed the transaction, she had been heard saying,
+‘Yes, it will never do to be too slack in inquiring into antecedents, or
+the whole character of the society will be given up,’ and with her black
+eyes fixed full upon Miss Hacket’s face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. -- THE EVENING STAR
+
+
+
+‘Oh, Connie dear, I had such a fright! Do you know you must never
+venture to give me anything when any one is there--especially Aunt Jane.
+I am sure it was her, she is always spying about?’
+
+‘Well, but dearest Dolly, I couldn’t tell that she would be there, and
+when I got your letter I could not keep it back, you know, so I made
+Mary come up and call on Lady Merrifield for the chance of being able to
+give it to you--and I thought it was so lucky Miss Mohun was there, for
+she and Mary were quite swallowed up in their dear G.F.S.’
+
+‘You don’t know Aunt Jane! And the worst of it is she always makes Aunt
+Lilias twice as cross! I did get into such a row only because I didn’t
+want to go driving with the two old aunts in the dark and cold, and be
+scolded all the way there and back.’
+
+‘When you had a letter to read too!’
+
+‘And then Aunt Lily said all manner of cross things about giving notes
+between us. I was so glad I could say I didn’t, for you know I didn’t
+give it to you, and it wasn’t between us.’
+
+‘You cunning child!’ laughed Constance, rather amused at the sophistry.
+
+‘Besides,’ argued Dolores, ‘what right has she to interfere between my
+uncle and my friends and me?
+
+‘You dear! Yes, it is all jealousy!’
+
+‘I have heard--or I have read,’ said Dolores, ‘that when people ask
+questions they have no right to put, it is quite fair to give them a
+denial, or at least to go as near the wind as one can.’
+
+‘To be sure,’ assented Constance, ‘or one would not get on at all! But
+you have no told me a word about your letters.’
+
+‘Father’s letter? Oh, he tells me a great deal about his voyage, and all
+the funny creatures they get up with the dredge. I think he will be sure
+to write a book about them, and make great discoveries. And now he
+is staying with Aunt Phyllis in New Zealand, and he is thinking, poor
+father, how well off I must be with Aunt Lilias. He little knows!’
+
+‘Oh, but you could write to him, dearest!’
+
+‘He wouldn’t get the letter for so long. Besides, I don’t think I could
+say anything he would care about. Gentlemen don’t, you know.’
+
+‘No! gentlemen can’t enter into our feelings, or know what it is to be
+rubbed against and never appreciated. But your uncle! Was the letter
+from him?’
+
+‘Oh yes! And where do you think he is? At Darminster--editing a paper
+there. It is called the Darminster Politician. He said he sent a copy
+here.’
+
+“Oh yes, I know; Mary and I could not think where it came from. It had a
+piece of a story in it, and some poetry. I wonder if he would put in my
+‘Evening Star.’”
+
+‘You may read his letter if you like; you see he says he would run over
+to see me if it were not for the dragons.’
+
+‘I wish he could come and meet you here. It would be so romantic, but
+you see Mary is half a dragon herself, and would be afraid of Lady
+Merrifield’--then, reading the letter,--‘How droll! How clever! What a
+delightful man he must be! How very strange that all your family should
+be so prejudiced against him! I’ll tell you what, Dolores, I will write
+and subscribe for the Darminster Politician my own self--I must see
+the rest of that story--and then Mary can’t make any objection; I can’t
+stand never seeing anything but Church Bells, and then you can read it
+too, darling.’
+
+‘Oh, thank you, Connie. Then I shall have got him one subscriber, as
+he asks me to do. I am afraid I shan’t get any more, for I thought
+Aunt Lily was in a good humour yesterday, and I put one of the little
+advertisement papers he sent out on the table, and she found it, and
+only said something about wondering who had sent the advertisement of
+that paper that Mr. Leadbitter didn’t approve of. She is so dreadfully
+fussy and particular. She won’t let even Gillian read anything she
+hasn’t looked over, and she doesn’t like anything that isn’t goody
+goody.’
+
+‘My poor darling! But couldn’t you write and get your uncle to look at
+some of my poor little verses that have never seen the light?’
+
+‘I dare say I could,’ said Dolores, pleased to be able to patronize.
+‘Oh, but you must not write on both sides of the paper, I know, for
+father and mother were always writing for the press.’
+
+‘Oh, I’ll copy them out fresh! Here’s the ‘Evening Star.’ It was
+suggested by the sound of the guns firing at the autumn manoevres;
+here’s the ‘Bereaved Mother’s Address to her Infant:’
+
+
+                ‘Sweet little bud of stainless white,
+                 Thou’lt blossom in the garden of light.’
+
+
+‘Mary thought that so sweet she asked Miss Mohun to send it to Friendly
+Leaves, but she wouldn’t--Miss Mohun I mean; she said she didn’t think
+they would accept it, and that the lines didn’t scan. Now I’m sure its
+only Latin and Greek that scan! English rhymes, and doesn’t scan! That’s
+the difference!’
+
+‘To be sure!’ said Dolores, ‘but Aunt Jane always does look out for what
+nobody else cares about. Still I wouldn’t send the baby-verses to Uncle
+Alfred, for they do sound a little bit goody, and the ‘Evening Star’
+would be better.’
+
+The verses were turned over and discussed until the summons came to tea,
+poured out by kind old Miss Hacket, who had delighted in providing her
+young guests with buttered toast and tea cakes.
+
+Dolores went home quite exhilarated and unusually amiable.
+
+Her letter to her father was finished the next day. It contained the
+following information.
+
+‘Uncle Alfred is at Darminster. He is sub-editor to the Politician, the
+Liberal county paper. I do not suppose Aunt Lilias will let me see him,
+for she does not like anything that dear mother did. There is a childish
+obsolete tone of mind here; I suppose it is because they have never
+lived in London, and the children are all so young of their age, and so
+rude, Wilfred most especially. Even Gillian, who is sixteen, likes quite
+childish games, and Mysie, who is my age, is a mere child in tastes, and
+no companion. I do wish I could have gone with you.’
+
+Lady Merrifield wrote by the same mail, ‘Your Dolores is quite well, and
+shows herself both clever and well taught. Miss Vincent thinks highly of
+her abilities, and gets on with her better than any one else, except
+the daughter of our late Vicar, for whom she has set up a strong girlish
+friendship. She plainly has very deep affections, which are not readily
+transferred to new claimants, but I feel sure that we shall get on in
+time.’
+
+Miss Mohun wrote, ‘Lily and I enjoyed your letter together. Dolly looks
+all the better for country life, though I am afraid she has not learnt
+to relish it, nor to assimilate with the Merrifield children as I
+expected. I don’t think Lily has quite fathomed her as yet, but ‘cela
+viendra’ with patience, only mayhap not without a previous explosion. I
+fancy it takes a long time for an only child to settle in among a large
+family. It was a great pity you could not see Lily yourself. To my
+dismay I encountered Flinders in the street at Darminster last week. I
+believe he is on the staff of a paper there, happily Dolly does not know
+it, nor do I think he knows where she is.’
+
+In another three weeks, Constance was in the utmost elation, for ‘On
+hearing the cannonade of the Autumn Manoeuvres’ was in print, and Miss
+Hacket was so much delighted that justice should be done to her sister’s
+abilities, that she forgot Mr. Leadbitter’s disapproval, and ordered
+half a dozen copies of the Politician for the present, and one for the
+future.
+
+Dolores, walking home in the twilight, could not help showing Gillian,
+in confidence, the precious slip, though it was almost too dark to read
+the small type.
+
+‘Newspaper poetry, I thought that always was trumpery,’ said Gillian,
+making a youthfully sweeping assertion.
+
+‘Many great poets have begun with a periodical press,’ said Dolores,
+picking up a sentence which she had somewhere read.
+
+‘I thought you hated English poetry, Dolly! You always grumble at having
+to learn it.’
+
+‘Oh, that is lessons.’
+
+“‘Il Penseroso,’ for instance.”
+
+‘This is a very different thing.’
+
+‘That it certainly is,’ said Gillian, beginning to read--
+
+
+              ‘How lovely mounts the evening star
+               Climbing the sunset skies afar.’
+
+
+‘What a wonderful evening! Why, the evening star was going up backward!’
+
+‘You only want to make nonsense of it.’
+
+‘It is not I that make nonsense!’ said Gillian, ‘why, don’t you see,
+Dolly, which way the sun and everything moves?’
+
+‘This is the evening star,’ said Dolores, sulkily. ‘It was just rising.’
+
+‘I do believe you think it rises in the west.’
+
+‘You always see it there. You showed it to me only last Sunday.’
+
+‘Do you think it had just risen?’
+
+‘Of course the stars rise when the sun sets.’
+
+Gillian could hardly move for laughing. ‘My dear Dolores, you to be
+daughter to a scientific man! Don’t you know that the stars are in the
+sky, going on all the time, only we can’t see them till the sunlight is
+gone?’
+
+But Dolores was too much offended to attend, and only grunted. She
+wanted to get the cutting away from Gillian, but there was no doing so.
+
+
+              ‘The mist is rising o’er the mead,
+               With silver hiding grass and reed;
+               ‘Tis silent all, on hill and heath,
+               The evening winds, they hardly breathe;
+               What sudden breaks the silent charm,
+               The echo wakes with wild alarm.
+               With rapid, loud, and furious rattle,
+               Sure ‘tis the voice of deadly battle,
+               Bidding the rustic swain to fly
+               Before his country’s enemy.’
+
+
+‘Did anybody ever hear of a sham fight in the evening?’ cried the
+soldier’s daughter indignantly. ‘There, I can’t see any more of it.’
+
+‘Give it to me, then.’
+
+‘You are welcome! Where did it come from? Let me look. C.H. Oh, did
+Constance Hacket write it? Nobody else could be so delicious, or so far
+superior to Milton.’
+
+‘You knew it all the time, and that was the reason you made game of it.’
+
+‘No, indeed it was not, Dolores. I did not guess. You should have told
+me at first.’
+
+‘You would have gone on about it all the same.’
+
+‘No, indeed, I hope not. I did not mean to vex you; but how was I to
+know it was so near your heart?’
+
+‘I ought to have known better than to have shown it to you! You are
+always laughing at her and me all over the house--and now--’
+
+‘Come, Dolly. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I will promise not to
+tell the others about it.’
+
+No answer. There was something hard and swelling in Dolores’s throat.
+
+‘Won’t that do?’ said Gillian. ‘You know I can’t say that I admire it,
+but I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’ll take care the others don’t tease you
+about it.’
+
+Dolores made hardly any answer, but it was a sort of pacification, and
+Gillian said not a word to the younger ones. Still she thought it no
+breach of her promise, when they were all gone to bed, and she the sole
+survivor, to tell her mother how inadvertently she had affronted Dolores
+by cutting up the verses, before she knew whose they were.
+
+‘I am sorry,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Anything that tends to keep Dolores
+aloof from us is a pity.’
+
+‘But, mama, I had no notion whose they were.’
+
+‘You saw that she was pleased with them.’
+
+‘Yes, but that was the more ridiculous. Fancy the evening star climbing
+up--up--you know in the sunset!’
+
+‘Portentous, certainly! Yet still I wish you could have found it in your
+heart to take advantage of any feeler towards sympathy.’
+
+‘How could I pretend to admire such stuff?’
+
+‘You need not pretend; but there are two ways of taking hold of a thing
+without being untrue. If you had been a little wiser and more forbearing
+you need not have given Dolores such a shock as would drive her in upon
+herself. Depend upon it, the older you grow, the more dangerous you will
+find it to begin by hitting the blots.’
+
+Gillian looked on in some curiosity when the next day good Miss Hacket,
+enchanted with her dear Connie’s success, trotted up to display the
+lines to Lady Merrifield, who on her side felt bound to set an example
+alike of tenderness and sincerity, and was glad to be able to observe,
+‘The lines run very smoothly. This must be a great pleasure to her.’
+
+‘Indeed it is! Connie is so clever. I always say I can’t think where she
+got it from; but we always tried to give her very advantage, and she was
+quite a favourite pupil at Miss Dormer’s. Is not it a sweet idea, the
+stillness of the evening broken by the sounds of battle, and then it
+proving to be only our brave defenders?’
+
+‘Yes,’ was the answer. ‘I have often thought of that, and of what it
+might be to hear those volleys of musketry in earnest. It has made me
+very thankful.’
+
+So Miss Hacket went away gratified, and Gillian owned that it would have
+been useless to wound the good lady’s feelings by criticism, though her
+mother made her understand that if her opinion had been asked, or Connie
+herself had shown the verses, it would have been desirable to point
+out the faults, in a kindly spirit. The wonder was, how they could have
+found their way into the paper, and they were followed by more with the
+like signature.
+
+Indeed, the great sensational tale, ‘The Waif of the Moorland,’ was
+being copied out of the books where it had been first written. Dolores
+had sounded Mr. Flinders on the subject, and he had replied that he
+could ensure its consideration by a publisher, but that her fair friend
+must be aware that an untried author must be prepared for some risk.
+
+Constance could hardly abstain from communicating her hopes to her
+sister; but Mr. Leadbitter--to whom the poetry was duly shown--had given
+such a character of the Darminster Politician that Miss Hacket besought
+Constance to have no more to do with it. Besides, she was so entirely a
+lady, and so conscientious, that all her tender blindness would not
+have prevented her from being shocked at encouraging, or profiting by, a
+surreptitious correspondence.
+
+Constance declared that Mr. Leadbitter’s objection to the paper was
+merely political, and her sister was too willing that she should be
+gratified to protest any further. The copying had to be done in secret,
+since it was impossible to confess the hopes founded on Mr. Flinders,
+and it therefore lasted several weeks, each fresh portion being
+communicated to Dolores on Sunday afternoons. There were at first a
+few scruples on Constance’s part whether this were exactly a Sunday
+occupation; but Dolores pronounced that ‘the Sabbatarian system was
+gone out,’ and after Constance had introduced the ghostly double of her
+vanished waif walking in a surpliced procession, she persuaded herself
+that there was a sufficient aroma of religion about the story to bring
+it within the pale of Sunday books.
+
+The days were shortening so that Lady Merrifield had doubts as to the
+fitness of letting the girls return in the dark, but Gillian would have
+been grieved to relinquish her class, and the matter was adjusted by the
+two remaining till evensong, when there was sure to be sufficient escort
+for them to come home with.
+
+Therewith arrived the holidays and Jasper, whose age came between those
+of Gillian and Mysie. Dolores had looked forward to his coming, for, by
+all the laws of fiction, he was bound to be the champion of the orphan
+niece, and finally to develop into her lover and hero. In ‘No Home,’
+when Clare’s aunt locked her up and fed her on bread and water for
+playing the piano better than her spiteful cousin Augusta, Eric, the boy
+of the family, had solaced her with cold pie and ice-creams drawn up
+in a basket by a cord from the window. He had likewise forced from his
+cruel mother the locket which proved Clare’s identity with the mourning
+countess’s golden-haired grandchild and heiress, and he had finally been
+rewarded with her hand, becoming in some mysterious manner Lord Eric.
+
+Jasper, however, or Japs, as his family preferred to call him, proved
+to be a big, shy boy, not at all delighted with the introduction of a
+stranger among his sisters, neither golden-haired nor all-accomplished,
+only making him feel his home invaded, and looking at him with her great
+eyes.
+
+‘Is that girl here for good?’ he asked, when he found himself with Harry
+and Gillian.
+
+‘Yes, of course,’ said the cousin, ‘while her father is away, and that
+is for three years.’
+
+Jasper whistled.
+
+‘Aunt Ada said,’ added Gillian, ‘that if she got too tiresome, mamma had
+Uncle Maurice’s leave to send her to school.’
+
+‘That would be no good to me,’ said Jasper, ‘for she would still be here
+in the holidays.’
+
+‘Has she been getting worse?’ asked Harry.
+
+‘No, I don’t know that she has,’ said Gillian, ‘except that she runs
+after that Constance more than ever. But, I say, Jasper, mamma says she
+is particularly anxious that there should be no teasing of her; and you
+can hinder Wilfred better than anybody can. She wants her to be really
+at home, and one--’
+
+But though Jasper was very fond both of mother and sister, he would not
+stand a second-hand lecture, and broke in with an inquiry about chances
+of rabbit-shooting.
+
+Among his juniors he heard more opinions and more undisguised, when the
+whole party had rushed out together to the stable-yard to inspect the
+rabbits and other live-stock.
+
+‘And Dolly says you are a fright,’ sighed Mysie, condoling with a very
+awkward-looking puppy which she was nursing.
+
+‘She! she thinks everything a fright!’ said Valetta.
+
+‘Except Constance,’ added Wilfred.
+
+‘Who is ugliest of all!’ politely chimed in Fergus.
+
+‘Oh, Japs, she is such a nasty girl--Dolly, I mean!’ cried Valetta.
+
+“You know you ought not to say ‘nasty,’” exclaimed Mysie.
+
+‘Well, but she is!’ insisted Val. ‘She squashed a dear little ladybird,
+and said it would sting!’
+
+‘She really thought it would,’ said Mysie.
+
+At which the young barbarians shouted aloud with contempt, and Valetta
+added. ‘She is afraid of everything--cows and dogs and frogs.’
+
+‘I got a whole match-box full of grasshoppers to shut up in her desk
+and make her squall,’ said Wilfred, ‘only the girls went and turned them
+out.’
+
+‘It was so cruel to the poor grasshoppers,’ said Mysie. ‘One had his
+horn broken, and dragged his leg.’
+
+‘What does she do?’ asked Jasper.
+
+‘She’s always cross,’ said Fergus.
+
+‘And she won’t play,’ added Valetta. ‘And never will lend us anything of
+hers.’
+
+‘And she’s a regular sneak,’ said Wilfred. ‘She wants to tell of
+everything--only we stopped that and she doesn’t dare now.’
+
+‘You see,’ said Mysie, gravely, ‘she has always lived alone and in
+London, and that makes her horribly stupid about everything sensible. We
+thought we should soon teach her to be nice; and mamma says we shall if
+we are patient.’
+
+‘We’ll teach her, won’t we, Japs!’ said Wilfred, aside, in an ominous
+voice.
+
+‘She is only thirteen,’ added Valetta, ‘and she pretends to be grown up,
+and only to care for a grown-up young lady--that Constance Hacket.’
+
+‘Yes,’ added Mysie, ‘only think--they write poetry!’
+
+‘What rot it must be!’ said Jasper. ‘There’s a man in my house that
+writes poetry, and don’t they chaff him! And this must be ever so much
+worse.’
+
+‘Oh, that it is,’ said Valetta. ‘I heard Mr. Poulter and Miss Vincent
+laughing about it like anything.’
+
+‘But they get it put into print,’ said Mysie, still impressed. ‘Miss
+Hacket brought it up to give to mamma, and there’s ever so much of it
+shut up in the drawing-room blotting-book with the malachite knobs. I
+can’t think why they laugh--I think it is very pretty. Old Miss Hacket
+read me the one about “My Lost Dove.”’
+
+‘Mysie always will stick up for Dolores,’ said Valetta in a grumbling
+voice.
+
+‘I always meant her to be my friend,’ said Mysie, disconsolately.
+
+‘Well, I’m glad she’s not,’ said Jasper. ‘What a sell it would have
+been for me to find you chummy with a stupid, poetry-writing,
+good-for-nothing girl like that, instead of my jolly old Mice!’
+
+And at that minute all Dolly’s slights were fully compensated for!
+
+There was a lurking purpose in the boys’ minds that if Dolores would
+not join in fun, yet still fun should be extracted from her. Jasper
+had brought home a box of Japanese fireworks, and Wilfred, who was
+superintending his unpacking, proposed to light the serpent and place it
+in Dolores’s path as she was going up to bed; but Jasper was old enough
+to reply that he would have no concern with anything so low and snobbish
+as such a trick. In fact, there was in Jasper’s mind a decided line
+between bullying and teasing, which did not exist as yet in Wilfred’s
+conscience. And, altogether, Dolores was in a state of mind that made
+her stiff letters to her father betray low spirits and discontent.
+
+On Sunday, while waiting for the early dinner, Jasper and Mysie happened
+to be together in the drawing-room, and Mysie took the opportunity of
+showing her brother the different cuttings of poetry. The lines were
+smooth, and some had a certain swing in them such as Mysie, with an
+unformed taste, a love for Miss Hacket, and amazement that the words
+of a familiar acquaintance of her own should appear in print, genuinely
+admired. But the eyes of a youth exercised in ‘chaffing’ the productions
+of one of his fellow ‘men’ were infinitely more critical. Besides, what
+could be more shocking to the General’s son than the confusion between
+the evening gun and the sham fight? And Mysie had been reduced
+to confusion for not detecting the faults, and then pardoned in
+consideration of being only a girl, by the time the gong summoned them
+to the Sunday roast beef.
+
+The dinner over, the female part of the family, scampered headlong
+upstairs, while Harry repaired with his mother to her room to talk over
+a letter from his father respecting his plans on leaving Oxford. The
+other boys hung about the hall, until Gillian and Dolores came down
+equipped for walking. ‘Hollo, Gill! All right! Where’s Mysie? We’ll be
+off! Mysie! Mice! Mouse! Val!’
+
+‘You must wait for them, Japs,’ said Gillian. ‘They are having their
+dresses changed; and, don’t you remember, I always go to Miss Hacket’s.’
+
+‘Botheration! What for?’
+
+‘You know very well.’
+
+‘Oh yes. To help her to write touching verses about the sweet dead dove,
+with voice and plumage soft as love, eh? Only, Gill, I’m afraid
+your memory is failing, if you don’t know the evening gun from rifle
+practice.’
+
+‘Nonsense! that’s no concern of mine,’ said Gillian, opening the front
+door, very anxious to get Dolores away from hearing anything worse.
+
+‘Oh, that’s your modesty. Only such a conjunction could have produced
+such a scene that the evening star came up backwards to look at it!’
+
+‘For shame, Jasper! How in the world did you get hold of that?’
+
+‘Too sweet a thing not to meet with universal fame,’ said Jasper, to
+whom it was exquisite fun to assume that Gillian devoted her Sunday
+afternoons to the concoction of such poetry with Constance Hacket,
+and thus to revenge himself for his disgust and jealousy at having his
+favourite companion and slave engrossed. Wilfred hopped about like an
+imp in ecstasy, grinning in the face of Dolores, whom Gillian longed to
+free from her tormentors. The shout was welcome, as Mysie and Valetta
+came tearing down the drive after them.
+
+‘Japs! Japs! Oh, we couldn’t come before because nurse would make us
+take off our Sunday serges. Come and let out the dogs. Mamma says we may
+see if there are any nice fir cones in the plantation to gild for the
+Christmas-tree.’
+
+‘And you won’t come?’ said Jasper. ‘The Muses must meet. What a poem you
+will produce!
+
+
+                ‘Hear I a cannon or a rifle,
+                 That is an unessential trifle!’
+
+
+‘What nonsense boys do talk!’ said Gillian, turning her back on them
+with regret; for much as she loved her class, she better loved a
+walk with Jasper, and here was Dolores on her hands in a state of
+exasperation, believing her to have broken her promise, and muttering,
+
+‘You set him on.’
+
+‘No, indeed I never did! You know I promised.’
+
+‘There are plenty of ways of getting out of a promise.’
+
+‘Speak for yourself, Dolores.’
+
+There were ten minutes of offended silence, and then Gillian said, ‘This
+is nonsense! You may believe me, I was sorry I laughed at the first
+verses you showed me, and mamma said I ought not. We never spoke of it,
+but Miss Hacket has been giving mamma all the poems, and Jasper must
+have got at them. Don’t you see?’
+
+‘Oh yes, you say so,’ said Dolores, sulkily.
+
+‘You don’t believe me!’
+
+‘You promised that your brothers should never hear of it.’
+
+‘I promised for myself. I couldn’t promise for what was put into a
+newspaper and trumpeted all over the place,’ said Gillian, really angry
+now.
+
+Dolores could not deny this, but she was hurt by the word trumpeted;
+and besides, her own slippery behaviour was weakening her trust in other
+people’s sincerity, and she only gave a kind of grunt; but Gillian,
+recovering herself a little, and remembering her mother’s words,
+proceeded to argue. ‘Besides, it was me whom Jasper meant to tease, not
+you.’
+
+‘I don’t care which it was. He is as bad as the rest of them!’
+
+Gillian attempted no more conciliation, and they arrived in silence at
+the Casement Cottages, where Constance was awaiting her friend in the
+greatest excitement; for she had despatched ‘The Waif of the Moorland’
+to Mr. Flinders in the course of the week, and had received a letter
+from him in return, saying that a personal interview with the gifted
+authoress would be desirable.
+
+‘And I do long to see him; don’t you, darling?
+
+‘It is very hard that he should be kept away from me,’ said Dolores,
+trying to stir up some tender feelings.
+
+‘That it is, my poor sweet! I thought whether he could come to me for
+a merely literary consultation without Mary’s knowing anything further
+about it, and then we could contrive for you to come down and meet him;
+but there are so many horrid prejudices that I suppose it would not be
+safe.’
+
+‘I don’t see how I could come down here without the others. Aunt Lily
+won’t let me come alone, and though it is holiday time, that is no good,
+for those horrid boys are always about, and I see that Jasper is going
+to be worse even than Wilfred.
+
+Various ways and means were discussed, but no excuse seemed available
+for either Constance’s going to Darminster, or for Mr. Flinders coming
+to Silverton, without exciting suspicion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. -- SECRET EXPEDITION
+
+
+
+‘The Christmas-tree! Oh, mamma, do let it be the Christmas-tree. It is
+quite well. We’ve been to look at it.’
+
+‘Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘Rot!’ put in Jasper.
+
+‘Oh, please, please, mamma,’ implored Valetta, ‘please let it be the
+dear old Christmas-tree! You said I should choose because it will be my
+birthday.’
+
+‘There is no need to whine, Val; you shall have your tree.’
+
+‘I’m so glad!’ cried Mysie. ‘The dear old tree is best of all. I could
+never get tired of it if I lived to be a hundred years old.’
+
+‘Such are institutions,’ said their mother. ‘I never heard of a
+Christmas-tree till I was twice your age.’
+
+‘Oh, mamma! How dreadful! What did you do?’
+
+‘I suppose it is all very well for you kids,’ said Jasper, loftily,
+putting his hands in his pockets.
+
+‘Perhaps something may be found interesting eve: to the high and mighty
+elders,’ observed Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘Oh! What, mamma?’
+
+Mamma, of course, only looked mysterious.
+
+‘And,’ added Val, ‘mayn’t we all go on a secret expedition and buy
+things for it?’
+
+‘We’ve all been saving up,’ added Mysie; ‘and everybody knows every
+single thing in all the shop at Silverton.’
+
+‘Besides,’ added Gillian, ‘the sconces will none of them hold, and
+almost all the golden globes got smashed in coming from Dublin, and one
+of the birds has its head off, and another has lost its spun-glass tail,
+and another its legs.’
+
+‘A bird of Paradise,’ said Lady Merrifield, laughing; ‘but wasn’t there
+a tree at Malta decked with no apparatus at all?’
+
+‘Yes, but Alley and Phyl can do anything!’
+
+‘I think we must ask Aunt Jane---’
+
+There was a howl. ‘Oh, please, mamma, don’t let Aunt Jane get all the
+things! We do so want to choose.’
+
+‘You impatient monsters! You haven’t heard me out, and you don’t deserve
+it.’
+
+‘Oh, mamma, I beg your pardon!’ ‘Oh, mamma, please!’ ‘Oh, mamma, pray!’
+cried the most impatient howlers, dancing round her.
+
+‘What I was about to observe, before the interruption by the honourable
+members, was, that we might perhaps ask Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada to
+receive at luncheon a party of caterers for this same tree.’
+
+‘Oh! oh! oh!’ ‘How delicious!’ ‘Hooray!’ ‘That’s what I call jolly fun!’
+
+‘And, mamma,’ added Gillian, ‘perhaps we might let Miss Hacket join.
+I know she wants to get up something for a G.F.S. class; but mamma was
+attending to Primrose, and the brothers burst in.
+
+‘There goes Gill, spoiling it all!’ exclaimed Wilfred.
+
+‘That’s always the way,’ said Jasper. ‘Girls must puzzle everything up
+with some philanthropic Great Fuss Society dodge.’
+
+‘I am sure, Jasper,’ said Gillian, ‘I don’t see why it should spoil
+anything to make other people happy. I thought we were told to make
+feasts not only for our own friends--’
+
+‘Gill’s getting just like old Miss Hacket,’ said Wilfred.
+
+‘Or sweet Constance,’ put in Jasper. ‘She’ll be writing poems next.’
+
+‘Hush! hush! boys,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘I do not mean to interfere
+with your pleasure, ‘but I had rather our discussions were not entirely
+selfish. Suppose, Gillian, we walked down to Casement Cottages, and
+consulted Miss Hacket.’
+
+This was done, in the company of all the little girls, for Miss Hacket’s
+cats, doves, and gingerbread were highly popular; moreover, Dolores was
+glad of a chance sight of Constance.
+
+‘My dear,’ said Lady Merrifield, as Gillian walked beside her, ‘you must
+be satisfied with giving Miss Hacket the reversion of our tree, and
+you and Mysie can go and help her. It will not do to make these kind of
+works a nuisance to your brothers.’
+
+‘I did not think Jasper would have been so selfish as to object,’ said
+Gillian, almost tearfully.
+
+‘Remember that boys have a very short time at home, and cannot be
+expected to care for these things like those who work in them,’ said
+Lady Merrifield. ‘It will not make them do so, to bore them, and take
+away their sense of home and liberty. At the same time, they must not
+expect to have everything sacrificed to them, and so I shall make Jasper
+understand.’
+
+‘You won’t scold him, mamma?’
+
+‘Can’t you, any of you, trust me, Gill?’
+
+‘Oh! mamma! Only I didn’t want him to think. I wouldn’t do everything
+he liked, except that I don’t want him to be unkind about those poor
+girls.’
+
+Miss Hacket was perfectly enraptured at the offer of the reversion of
+the Christmas-tree and its trapping. Valetta’s birthday was on the 28th
+of December and the tree was to be lighted on the ensuing evening
+for G.F.S. Moreover, the party would go to Rockstone as soon as an
+appointment could be made with Miss Mohun, to make selections at a great
+German fancy shop, recently opened there, and in full glory; and the
+Hacket sisters were invited to join the party, starting at a quarter
+to eight, and returning at a few minutes after seven, the element
+of darkness at each end only adding to the charm in the eyes of the
+children, and Valetta, with a little leap, repeated that it would be a
+real secret expedition.
+
+‘Very secret indeed,’ said her mother, ‘considering how many it is known
+to--’
+
+‘Yes, but it is, mamma, for everybody has a secret from everybody.’
+
+The words made Constance and Dolores look round with a start from their
+colloquy under the shade of the window-curtains, but no one was thinking
+of them. Just as the plans were settled, Constance came forward, saying,
+‘Lady Merrifield, may I have dear Dolores to spend the day with me? We
+neither of us wish to join your kind party to Rockstone, and we should so
+enjoy being together.’
+
+‘I had much rather stay,’ added Dolores.
+
+‘Very well,’ said Lady Merrifield, reflecting that her sisters would be
+grateful for the diminution of the party, and that it would be easier to
+keep the peace without Dolores.
+
+The defection was hailed with joy by her cousins, though they were
+struck dumb at her extraordinary taste in not liking shopping.
+
+Jasper did look rather small when his mother assured him in private
+he might have trusted her to see that he was not to be incommoded with
+Gillian’s girls, and he only observed, in excuse for his murmurs, that
+it made a man mad to see his sisters always off after some charity fad
+or other.
+
+“‘Always’ being a few hours once a week,” she said.
+
+‘Just when one wants her.’
+
+‘Look here, my boy,’ she said, ‘you don’t want your sisters to be
+selfish, useless, fine ladies--never doing any one any good. If they
+take up good works, they can’t drop them entirely to wait on you.
+Gillian does give up a great deal, and it would be kinder to forbear a
+little, and not treat all she does as an injury to yourself.’
+
+‘I only meant to get a rise out of her.’
+
+‘You are quite welcome to do that, provided it is done in good nature.
+Gill is quite sound stuff enough to be laughed at! But, I say, my Japs,
+I should prefer your letting Dolores alone; she has not learned to be
+laughed at yet, and has not come even to the stage for being taught to
+bear it.’
+
+‘She looks fit to turn the cream sour,’ observed Jasper. ‘I say, mamma,
+you don’t want me to go on this shopping business, do you?’
+
+‘Not by any means, sir.’
+
+Happily, the chance of a day’s rabbit shooting presented itself at a
+warren some miles off, and Harry undertook the care of Wilfred, who gave
+his word of honour to obey implicitly and take no liberties with the
+guns. Fergus would gladly have gone with them, but he was still young
+enough to be sensible of the attractions of toy-shops. Only Primrose had
+to be left to the nursery, and there was no need to waste pity on her,
+for on such an occasion Mrs. Halfpenny would relax her mood, and lay
+herself out to be agreeable, when she had exhausted her forebodings
+about her leddyship making herself ill for a week gaun rampaging about
+with all the bairns, as if she was no better than one herself.
+
+‘I shall let Miss Mohun do most of the rampaging, nurse; but, if it is
+fine, will you take Miss Primrose into the town and let her choose her
+own cards. I have given her a florin, and if you make the most of that
+for her, she will be as happy as going with us.’
+
+‘That I will, my leddy. Bairns is easy content when ye ken how to sort
+‘em.’
+
+‘And, nurse, I believe there will be a box from Sir Jasper at the
+station. It may come home in the waggonette that takes us. Will you and
+Macrae get it safe into the store-room, for I don’t want the children to
+see it too soon?’
+
+There was nothing but satisfaction in the house on the morning of the
+expedition. The untimely candle-light breakfast was only a fresh element
+of delight, and so was the paling gas at the station, the round, red sun
+peeping out through a yellow break between grey sky and greyer woods;
+the meeting Miss Hacket in her fur cloak, the taking of the tickets,
+the coughing of the train, the tumbling into one of the many empty
+carriages, the triumphant start,--all seemed as fresh and delicious as
+if the young people had never taken a journey before in all their lives.
+The fog in the valleys, the sleepy villages, the half-roused stations,
+all gave rise to exclamations, and nothing was regretted but that the
+windows would get clouded over.
+
+Even the waiting at the junction had its charms, for it was enlivened by
+a supplementary breakfast on rolls and milk! and at a few minutes past
+eleven the train was drawing up at Rockstone, and Aunt Jane, sealskins
+and all, was beckoning from the platform, hurrying after the carriage as
+it swept past, and holding out a hand to jump the party from the door.
+
+There she was, ready to take them to the most charming and cheapest
+shops, where the coins burning in those five pockets would go the
+furthest. Go in a cab? No, I thank you, it is far more delightful to
+walk. So mamma and Miss Hacket were stowed away in the despised vehicle,
+to make the purchases that nobody cared about, or which were to be
+unseen and unknown till the great day; while Aunt Jane undertook to
+guide the young people through the town, for her house was at the other
+end of it securing the Christmas-cards on the way, if nothin’ else. For,
+though all the cards and gifts to mamma, and a good many besides, were
+of domestic manufacture, some had to be purchased, and she knew, this
+wonderful woman, where to get cards of former seasons at reduced prices
+to suit their youthful finances.
+
+Considerable patience was requisite before all the choices were made,
+and the balance cast between cards and presents, and Miss Mohun got her
+quartette past all the shop windows, to the seaside villa, shut in by
+tamarisks, which Aunt Adeline believed to be the only place that suited
+her health. Mamma and Miss Hacket had already arrived, and filled the
+little vestibule with parcels and boxes.
+
+Then the early dinner! The aunts had anticipated their Christmas turkey
+for that goodly company to help them eat it, but afterwards there
+was only time for a mince pie all round; for more than half the work
+remained to be done by all except mamma, who would stay and rest with
+Aunt Ada, having finished all that could not be deputed.
+
+However, first she had a conference in private with Aunt Jane, who
+undertook therein to come to Silverton for Valetta’s birthday, and add
+astonishment and mystery sufficient to satisfy such of the public as
+were weary of Christmas-trees. She added, however, ‘You will think I
+am always at you. Lily, but did you know that Flinders is living at
+Darminster?’
+
+‘No; but it is five and twenty miles off, and he has never troubled us.’
+
+‘Don’t be too secure. He is in connection with that low paper--the
+Politician--which methinks, is the place where those remarkable poems of
+Miss Constance’s have appeared.’
+
+‘Is it not the way of poetry of that calibre to see the light in county
+papers?’
+
+‘This seems to me of a lower calibre than is likely to get in without
+private interest.’
+
+‘But to my certain knowledge the child has neither written to, nor heard
+of the man all this time.’
+
+‘You don’t know what goes on with her bosom friend.’
+
+‘I am certain Miss Hacket would connive at nothing underhand. Besides, I
+have never seen any thing sly or deceitful in poor Dolores. She will not
+make friends with us, that is all, and that may be our fault.’
+
+‘I only say, look out, you unsuspicious dame!’
+
+‘Now, Jenny, satisfy my curiosity as to how you know all this. I am sure
+I never showed you those effusions. We have had trouble enough about
+them, for the children cut them up in a way Dolores has never forgiven.’
+
+‘Oh! Miss Hacket sent them to me, to ask if ‘Mollsey to her Babe’
+and ‘The Canary’ might not be passed on to Friendly Leaves. And as to
+Flinders, when I went to the G.F.S. Conference at Darminster I met the
+man full in the street, and, of course, I inquired afterwards how he
+came there. So there’s nothing preternatural about it.’
+
+‘It is well you did not live two hundred years ago, or you would
+certainly have been burnt for a witch.’
+
+‘See what a witch I shall make on the 28th! But I hear those unfortunate
+children dancing and prancing with impatience on the stairs. I must go,
+before they have driven Ada distracted.’
+
+What would the two aunts have said, could they have seen Dolores and
+Constance, at that moment partaking of the most elaborate meal the
+Darminster refreshment-room could supply, at a little round marble
+table, in company with Mr. Flinders! They had not been obliged to start
+nearly so early as the other party, as the journey was much shorter, and
+with no change of line, so they had quietly walked to the station by ten
+o’clock, arrived at Darminster at half-past eleven, and have been met by
+the personage whom Dolores recognized as Uncle Alfred. Constance was a
+little disappointed not to see something more distinguished, and less
+flashy in style, but he was so polite and complimentary, and made such
+touching allusions to his misfortunes and his dear sister, that she soon
+began to think him exceedingly interesting, and pitied him greatly when
+he said he could not take them to his lodgings--they were not fit for
+his niece or her friend, who had done him a kindness for which he could
+never be sufficiently grateful, in affording him a glimpse of his dear
+sister’s child. It made Dolores wince, for she never could bear the
+mention of her mother, it was like touching a wound, and the old
+sensation of discomfort and dislike to her uncle’s company began to grow
+over her again, now that she was not struggling against Mohun opposition
+to her meeting him. He lionized them about the town, but it was a foggy,
+drizzly day, one of those when the fringe of sea-coast often enjoys
+finer weather than inland places; the streets were very sloppy, and
+Dolores and Constance did not do much beyond purchasing a few cards and
+some presents at a fancy shop, as they had agreed to do, to serve as an
+excuse for their expedition in case it could not be kept a secret,
+and most of the visit was made in the waiting-room at the station, or
+walking up and down the platform. As to the grand point, Mr. Flinders
+told Constance that her tale was talented and striking, full of great
+excellence; she might hope for success equal to Ouida’s--but that he had
+found it quite impossible to induce a publisher to accept a work by an
+unknown author, unless she advanced something. He could guarantee the
+return, but she must entrust him with thirty pounds. Poor Constance! it
+was a fatal blow; she had not thirty pounds in the world; she doubted
+if she could raise the sum, even by her sister’s help. Then Mr. Flinders
+sighed, and thought that if he represented the circumstances, the firm
+might be content with twenty--nay, even fifteen. Constance cheered up
+a little. She did think she could make up fifteen, after the 21st, when
+certain moneys became due, which she shared with her sister. She would
+be left very bare all the spring--but what was that to the return
+she was promised? Only Mr. Flinders impressed on her the necessity of
+secrecy--even from her sister--since, he said, if he were once known
+to have obtained such terms for a young authoress, he should be besieged
+for ever!
+
+‘But, Uncle Alfred,’ said Dolores, ‘surely my father and mother, and
+all the other people I have known, did not pay to get their things
+published.’
+
+‘My dear niece, you speak as one who has been with persons of high and
+established fame--the literary aristocracy, in fact. The doors once
+opened, Miss Hacket will, like them, make her own terms; but such doors,
+like many others, are only to be opened by a silver key.’
+
+There were other particulars which he talked over with the authoress in
+a promenade on the platform while Dolores was left in the waiting-room;
+but afterwards he indulged his niece with a tete-a-tete, asking her
+father’s address, and mourning over the length of time it would take to
+obtain an answer from Fiji. Mr. Mohun had promised to help him, solemnly
+and kindly promised, for the sake of her whom they had both loved so
+much, and here he was, cut off and quite in extremity. Unfortunate as
+usual, through his determined enemies, a company in which he had shares
+had collapsed, he was penniless till his salary from the Politician
+became due in March. Meanwhile, he should be expelled from his lodging
+and brought to ruin if he could not raise a few pounds--even one.
+
+Dolores had nearly two pounds in her purse. Her father had left her
+amply provided, and she had not much opportunity of spending. She knew
+he had seen the gold when she was shopping, and when she had paid for
+the refreshments, which of course she had found she had to do. With some
+hesitation she said, ‘If thirty shillings would be of any good to you--’
+
+‘My dear, generous child, your dear mother’s own daughter! It will be
+the saving of me temporarily! But among all your wealthy relatives,
+surely, considering your father’s promise, you could obtain some advance
+until he can be communicated with!’
+
+‘If he is still in New Zealand, we could telegraph, and hear directly.
+He did not know how long he should be there, for the ship had something
+to be done to it.’
+
+This did not suit Mr. Flinders. Such telegrams were very expensive, and
+it was too uncertain whether Mr. Mohun would be at Auckland. Surely,
+Lady Merrifield, whose husband was shaking the pagoda tree, would make
+an advance if she knew the circumstances.
+
+‘I don’t think she would,’ said Dolores, ‘I don’t think they are very
+rich. There is only one horse and one little pony, and my cousins have
+such very tiny allowances.’
+
+‘Haughty and poor! Stuck up and skimping. Yes, I understand. But I am
+not asking from her, only an advance, on your father’s promise, which
+he would be certain to repay. Yes, quite certain! It is only a matter
+of time. It would save me at the present moment from utter ruin and
+destruction that would have broken your dear mother’s heart. Oh! Mary,
+what I lost in you.’ Then, as perhaps he saw reflection on Dolores’s
+face, he added, ‘She is gone, the only person who took an interest in
+me, so it matters the less, and when you hear again of your unhappy
+uncle you will know what drove him--’
+
+‘If it was only an advance--I have a cheque,’ began Dolores. ‘If seven
+pounds would do you any good--’
+
+‘It would be salvation!’ he exclaimed.
+
+‘Father left it with me,’ pursued Dolores, considering, ‘in case
+Professor Muhlwasser went on with his great book of coloured plates of
+microscopic marine zoophytes, and sent it in. I was to keep this and pay
+with it--’
+
+‘Oh! Muhlwasser! you need not trouble about him. I saw his death in the
+paper a month ago.’
+
+‘Then I really think I might send you the cheque, and write to my father
+why I did so.’
+
+‘Ah! Dolly, I knew that your mother’s daughter could never desert me.’
+
+More followed of the same kind, tending to make Dolores feel that she
+was doing a heroically generous thing, and stifling the lurking sense in
+her mind that she had no right to dispose of her father’s money without
+his consent. The December day began to close in, the gas was lighted,
+Constance was seen disconsolately peeping out at the waiting-room door
+to see whether the private conference were over. They joined her again,
+and Mr. Flinders discoursed about the envy and jealousy of critics, and
+success being only attained by getting into a certain clique, till she
+began to look rather frightened; but reassured by the voluble list of
+names and papers to which he assured her of recommendations. Then he
+began to be complimentary, and she, to put on the silly tituppy kind of
+face and tone wherewith she had talked to the curates at the festival.
+Dolores began to find this very dull, and to feel neglected, perhaps
+also cross, and doubts came across her whether she might not get into
+a dreadful scrape about the money, which she certainly had no right to
+dispose of. She at last broke in with, ‘Uncle Alfred, are you quite sure
+Professor Muhlwasser is dead?’
+
+‘Bless your heart, child, he’s as dead as Harry the Eighth,’ said Mr.
+Flinders in haste;’ died at Berlin, of fatty degeneration of the heart!
+Well, as I was saying, Miss Constance--’
+
+‘But, uncle, I was thinking--’
+
+‘Hush!’ as a couple of ladies and a whole train of nurses and children
+invaded the waiting-room, ‘it won’t do to talk of such little matters
+in public places, you know. Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss
+Constance. Will you allow me to be your cavalier?’
+
+People were beginning to arrive in expectation of the coming train, and
+talk was not possible in the throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not make
+it so. At last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to find places
+for the ladies, when there was a moment’s glimpse of a handsome
+moustached face at a smoking-carriage window. Dolores started, and had
+almost exclaimed, ‘Uncle Reginald;’ but before the words were out of her
+mouth, Mr. Flinders had drawn her on swiftly, among all the numbers of
+people getting out and getting in, hurled her into a distant carriage,
+handed Constance in after her, and muttering something about forgetting
+an appointment, he vanished, without any of the arrangements about
+foot-warmers that he had promised.
+
+‘Uncle Reginald!’ again exclaimed Dolores, ‘I am sure it was he!’
+
+‘Oh dear! What an escape!’ answered Constance, breathless with surprise,
+and settling herself with disgust and difficulty next to a fat old
+farmer, as three or four more people entered and jammed them close
+together.
+
+‘Who is he?’ she presently whispered.
+
+‘Colonel Mohun. His regiment is at Galway. I know he talked of getting
+over this winter if he possibly could; but Aunt Lily went away before
+the post was come in.’
+
+‘We shall have to take great care when we get out.’
+
+Here the train started, and conversation in undertones became
+impossible, more especially as two of the farmers in the carriage were
+coming back from the Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the
+prize oxen with all their might. It was very stuffy and close. Constance
+looked ineffably fastidious and uncomfortable, and Dolores gazed at the
+clouded window, and dull little lamp overhead, put in to enliven the
+deepening twilight. This avoiding of Uncle Reginald brought more before
+her mind a sense of wrong-doing than anything that had gone before.
+She was fond of this uncle, who always made her father’s house his
+headquarters when in London, and used to play with her when she was a
+small child, and always to take her to the Zoological Gardens, till she
+declared she was too old to care for such a childish show, and then he
+and her father both laughed at her so much that she would never have
+forgiven anybody else; and she found he enjoyed it for his own sake far
+more than she did. However, he always did take her out for walks and
+sights that were sure to be amusing with him. Father, too, was quite
+bright and alive when he was in the house, and thus Dolores had nothing
+but pleasant associations connected with this uncle, and had heard of
+the chances of his coming like a ray of light, though without much hope,
+since the state of Ireland had prevented him from being able even to
+run over to take leave of her father. And now he was come, she must hide
+from him like a guilty thing! There was no spirit of opposition against
+him in her mind, and thus she could feel that she was doing something
+sad and strange. Moreover, she began to feel that her promise about the
+cheque had been a rash one, and the echo of her father’s voice came back
+on her, saying, ‘Surely, Mary, you know better than to believe a word
+out of Flinders’s mouth.’
+
+But then she thought of her mother’s rare tears glistening in her eyes,
+and the answer, ‘Poor Alfred! I cannot give him up. Everything has been
+against him.’
+
+It was quite dark before Silverton was reached, at half-past five, with
+three quarters of an hour to spare before the other travellers were
+expected. Most of their fellow passengers had got out at previous
+stations, so that Constance was able to open the door and jump out so
+perilously before the train had quite stopped, that a porter caught her
+with a sharp word of reproof. She grasped Dolores’s hand and scudded
+across the platform, giving the return tickets almost before the
+collector was ready. A cautious guard even exclaimed, ‘What’s those two
+young women up to?’ but was answered at once, ‘They’re all right! That’s
+nought but one of the old parson’s daughters, as have been out with a
+return to Darminster.’
+
+‘A sweetheartin’?’ demanded one of the bystanders, and there was a
+laugh.
+
+Constance heard the tones and vulgar laugh, though not the words, and
+she was in such a panic as she hurried down the steps that she did not
+stop to look out for a cab. The place was small, and they were not very
+plentiful at any time, and she was mortally afraid, though she hardly
+knew why, of being over-taken and questioned by Colonel Mohun, who might
+know his niece, though he would not know her; but Dolores was tired, and
+had a headache, and did not at all like the walk in the dirt, and fog,
+and dark, after turning from the gas lit station.
+
+‘We were to have a cab, Constance.’
+
+‘We can’t,’ was the answer, still hurrying on. ‘He would come out upon
+us.’
+
+‘He is much more likely to overtake us this way!’ said Dolores, thinking
+of her uncle’s long strides.
+
+‘Well, we can’t turn back now!’ said Constance, getting almost into a
+run, which lasted till they were past the paddock gate. Dolores, panting
+to keep up with her, had half a mind to turn up there and go straight
+home; but there might be any number of oxen in the way, and almost
+worse, she might meet Jasper and Wilfred, or if Uncle Reginald overtook
+her, what would he think?
+
+The pair slackened their pace a little when they had satisfied
+themselves that the break in the dark hedge beside them was the gate.
+They heard wheels, and presently saw the lamps of a cab, bearing down,
+halt at the gate they had left behind, and turn in.
+
+‘We should have been off first,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘If we could have got a cab in time?’
+
+‘One can always get cabs.’
+
+‘Oh! no, not at all for certain.’
+
+‘This is a nasty, stupid, out-of-the-way place,’ said Dolores, wanting
+to say something cross.
+
+‘It isn’t a vulgar place, full of traffic,’ returned Constance, equally
+cross.
+
+‘Well, I never meant to walk home in this way! I’m sure my feet are wet.
+I wish I had waited and gone with Uncle Regie.’
+
+‘Now, Dolly, what do you mean? You would not have it all betrayed?’
+
+‘I’ve a great mind to tell Uncle Regie all about it.’
+
+‘Now, Dolly! When you said so much about the Mohun pride and scorn of
+your poor, dear uncle.’
+
+‘Uncle Regie is not proud. And he would know what to do.’
+
+‘But,’ cried Constance, in a fright, ‘you would never tell him! You
+promised that it should be a secret, and I should be in such a dreadful
+scrape with Lady Merrifield and Mary.’
+
+‘Well! it was your doing, and you had all the pleasure of it,
+flourishing about the platform with him.’
+
+‘How can you be so disagreeable, Dolores, when you know it was all on
+business. Though I do think he is the most interesting man I ever did
+see.’
+
+‘Just because he flattered you.’
+
+However, there is no need to tell how many cross and quarrelsome things
+the two tired friends said to each other. They were sitting on opposite
+sides of the fire, one very gloomy, and the other very pettish, when
+the waggonette stopped at the gate, to put out Miss Hacket and take
+up Dolores. Hands pulled her up the step, and a hubbub of merry voices
+received her in the dark.
+
+‘Good girl, not to keep us waiting.’
+
+‘Oh, Dolly, Dolly, Macrae says Uncle Regie’s come!’
+
+‘Oh, Dolly, it has been such fun!’
+
+‘Take care of my parcel!’
+
+‘Ah, ha! you don’t know what is in there.’
+
+‘Here’s something under my feet!’
+
+‘Oh! take care! ‘Tisn’t my--’
+
+‘Hush, hush, Val--’
+
+And so it went on till on the steps was seen in full light among the
+boys, Uncle Reginald, ready to lift every one out with a kiss.’
+
+‘Ha! Dolly, is that you?’ he said, as they came into the hall. ‘I saw
+such a likeness of you at one station that I was as near as possible
+jumping out to speak to her. She had on just that fur tippet!’
+
+‘That comes of living in Ireland, Regie,’ said Aunt Lily. ‘Once in a
+shop at Belfast, a lady darted up to me with “And it’s I that am glad
+to see you, me dear. And how’s me sweet little god-daughter? Oh! and
+it isn’t yourself. And aren’t you Mrs. Phelim O’Shaugnessy?’” And under
+cover of this, Dolores retreated to her own room. She took off her
+things, and then looked at the cheque.
+
+Professor Muhlwasser was a clever German, always at work on science,
+counting, in the most minute and accurate manner, such details as the
+rays in a sea anemone’s tentacles, or the eggs in a shrimp’s roe. He
+was engaged on a huge book, in numbers, of which Mr. Maurice Mohun had
+promised to take two copies--but whereas extravagances upon peculiar
+hobbies were apt not to be tolerated in the family, and it was really
+uncertain whether the work would ever be completed, Mr. Mohun had
+preferred leaving a cheque for the payment in his little daughter’s
+hand, rather than entrust it to one of the brothers, who would have
+howled and growled at such a waste of good money on such a subject.
+Thus he had told Dolores to back the draft, get it changed, and send
+the amount by a postal order to Germany, if the books and account should
+come, which he thought very doubtful.
+
+And now the professor was dead, Dolores looked at the cheque, and
+supposed she could do as she pleased with it. Mother helped Uncle
+Alfred. Yes, but mother earned all she sent him herself! Perhaps he
+would not ask again. How much more he had talked to Constance than to
+herself. Dolly wished she had not seen him to get into this difficulty.
+She was tired, cold, and damp. Oh! if she had never gone, and not been
+half caught by Uncle Regie!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. -- A HUNT
+
+
+
+Dolores was glad to recollect, when she awoke, that Uncle Reginald was
+in the house. It was as if she had a friend of her own there who might
+enter into all the ill-usage she suffered, and whom she could even
+consult about Uncle Alfred, so far as she could do so without disclosing
+all the underhand correspondence. She called doing so betraying
+Constance, but, in truth, she shrank more from shocking him with what
+he might think very wrong--since, after all, he belonged to that
+hard-hearted generation of grown-up people who had no feeling nor
+understanding of one’s troubles.
+
+As she went downstairs she was aware of an increasing hubbub, and
+frequently looking over the balusters, perceived the top of Primrose’s
+wavy head above the close-cropped one of Uncle Regie, as, with her
+mounted on his shoulder, he careered round the hall, with a pack of
+others vociferating behind him.
+
+There was a lull, for Lady Merrifield came out of her room just as
+Dolores had paused; Primrose was put down, the morning salutations took
+place, and Dolores had her full share of them. She was even allowed to
+sit next her uncle at breakfast; but her rasher of bacon had not been
+half eaten, before she had perceived that, as to possessing him as she
+used to do at home, he was just as much everybody else’s Uncle Regie as
+hers, for during the time of their being stationed at Belfast, he had
+been so often with them, that he was quite established as the prince of
+playfellows.
+
+‘Uncle Regie, will you have a crack at the rabbits tomorrow? Brown said
+we might have a day, and we have been keeping it for you.’
+
+‘Uncle Regie, the hounds meet at the Bugle this morning, won’t you come
+and see them throw off?’
+
+‘Oh, let me come too!’ ‘And me!’ ‘And me!’
+
+‘My dear children,’ exclaimed their mother, ‘I can’t have the whole
+tribe of little ones and girls going galloping after your uncle. You
+will only hinder him.’
+
+‘No, no, Lily! the more Merrifields, the merrier the field. I’ll drill
+them well. How far off is this Bugle?’
+
+‘Not two miles over Furzy Common.’
+
+‘Oh! not so far, Hal!’
+
+‘That’s nothing. Who is coming?’
+
+A general outbreak of ‘Me’s’ ensued, but mamma laid an embargo on
+Primrose, who must stay at home and ‘help her,’ while Gillian looked
+wistful and doubtful, knowing that more efficient help than the little
+one’s might be desirable.
+
+‘You had better go, my dear,’ said her mother, ‘if you are not tired. I
+don’t like to send Mysie and Val without some one to turn back with them
+if your uncle and the boys want to go further.’
+
+But whereas it was not nearly time to start, Uncle Reginald was
+dragged down to inspect all the live stock in the stable-yard, at their
+feeding-time, and went off with Val and Primrose clinging to his hands,
+and the general rabble surrounding him.
+
+Nothing could have been more alien to Dolores’s taste than going out to
+a meet on foot through mud and mire--she who hated the being driven out
+to take a constitutional walk on the gravel road or the paved path! But
+she had some hope that while all the others ran off madly, as was
+their wont, she might secure a little rational conversation with Uncle
+Reginald. So she came down in hat and ulster, and was rewarded with
+‘That’s right, Doll; I’m glad to see they have taught you to take
+country walks.’
+
+‘It is all compliment to you, Uncle Regie,’ said Gillian. ‘She hates
+them generally.’
+
+‘Are we all ready? Where are Japs and Will?’
+
+‘Gone to shut up the dogs; and Hal is not coming.’
+
+‘Beneath his dignity, eh?’
+
+‘I think he has some reading to do,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘Now mind, Reginald,’ said Aunt Lily, coming on the scene, ‘you are not
+to let those imps drag you farther than you like. It is a very different
+thing, remember, children, from going out with the hounds like a
+gentleman.’
+
+‘Yes, mamma,’ returned Fergus. ‘If you would only let me have the pony!’
+
+‘And send home the girls as soon as you find them in the way,’ she
+added.
+
+‘All right,’ answered he, and off plunged the party; but Dolores soon
+found that she was not to be allowed much of Uncle Reginald’s exclusive
+society. He did begin talking to her about her father’s voyage, last
+letters, and intended departure from Auckland, but Valetta kept fast
+hold of his other hand, and the others were all round, every moment
+pointing out something--to them noticeable--and telling the story of
+some exploit, delighted when their uncle capped it with some boyish
+tales of Beechcroft, or with some droll, Irish story.
+
+With such talk, the strong, healthy young folk little heeded the surface
+mud or the lanes. Even Dolores when she heard her father’s name in the
+reminiscences,’ was interested for a time, and was always hoping that
+the others would fly off and leave her to her uncle; but she was much
+less used to country mud and stout boots than the others, and she had
+been very much tired by her expedition on the previous day, so that
+she had begun to find the way very long before they came out on an open
+green, with a few cottages standing a good way back in their gardens,
+and as their centre, one of the great old coaching inns of past days,
+now chiefly farmhouse, though a sign, bearing a golden bugle-horn upon a
+blue ground, stood aloft in front of it, over the heads of the speckled
+mass of tan, black, and white, pervaded with curved tails, over which
+the scarlet-coated whips kept guard, while shining horses, bearing red
+coats and black coats, boys, and a few ladies, were moving about, and
+carriages drew up from time to time.
+
+There was a long standing about, and Colonel Mohun, being a stranger
+there himself, kept his flock on the outskirts, only Jasper plunging
+in, at sight of a mounted schoolfellow, while Gillian and Mysie told the
+names of the few they recognized. At last there was a move, and Jasper
+came back to point out the wood they were going to draw, close at hand.
+Should they not all go on and see it?
+
+‘Oh! let us! do come, Uncle Regie,’ cried Mysie and Val.
+
+‘Look here, Gill,’ said the uncle, ‘this child doesn’t look fit to go
+any farther.’
+
+‘I’m very tired, and so cold,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Yes,’ said Gillian, ‘we ought to go home now.’
+
+Not me! not me;’ cried the other two girls; ‘Uncle Regie will take care
+of us.’
+
+‘I think you must come,’ said Gillian, ‘mamma said you had better come
+home when I do.’
+
+‘Yes,’ said Wilfred, ‘we don’t want a pack of girls to go and get
+tired.’
+
+‘We shall go into all sorts of places not fit for you,’ said Jasper;
+‘you wouldn’t come back with a whole petticoat among you.’
+
+‘And Val would be left stodged in a ditch for a month of Sundays,’ added
+Wilfred.
+
+‘I am afraid we had better part company, Gill,’ said the colonel. ‘I
+would take you on a little further, but this poor little Londoner won’t
+have a leg to stand upon by the time she gets home.’
+
+‘More shame for her to come out to spoil our fun,’ muttered Valetta, too
+low for her uncle to hear.
+
+‘Mamma will think we have gone quite far enough, thank you, uncle,’ said
+the sage Gillian, ‘and I think Fergus had better come too.’
+
+‘That he had,’ said Jasper. ‘Fancy him over Peat Hill.’
+
+‘He’ll be left behind to be picked up as we come back,’ said Wilfred.
+
+‘No, no, no! I can keep up better than you can, Wil! Take me, Uncle
+Regie.’ The little boy was so near a howl that good-natured Colonel
+Mohun’s heart was touched, and he consented to let him come on, though
+Jasper argued, ‘You’ll have to carry him, uncle.’
+
+‘No, I’ll make you, master! Tell your mother not to wait luncheon for
+us, Gillian; we’ll pick up something somewhere.’
+
+‘Hurrah!’ cried Wilfred and Fergus, to whom this was an immense
+additional pleasure.
+
+The girls turned away into the lane, Valetta indulging in an outrageous
+grumble. ‘Why should Dolores have come out to spoil everything?’
+
+Dolores did not speak.
+
+‘Just our one chance,’ sighed Mysie, ‘and perhaps we should have seen
+the fox.’
+
+‘We may do that yet,’ said Gillian; ‘he may come this way.’
+
+‘I don’t care if he does,’ said Valetta. ‘I wanted to see them draw the
+copse. I believe Dolores did it on purpose to spoil our pleasure.’
+
+‘Don’t be so cross, Val,’ said Mysie. ‘She can’t help being tired.’
+
+‘Why did she come, then, when nobody wanted her?’
+
+‘For shame, Val,’ said Gillian, ‘you know mamma would be very angry to
+hear you say anything so unkind.’
+
+‘It’s quite true, though,’ muttered Valetta.
+
+‘Never mind, Dolly, dear,’ said Mysie, shocked. ‘Val doesn’t really mean
+it, you know.’
+
+‘Yes, she does,’ said Dolores, shaking her comforter off; ‘you all do! I
+wish I had never come here.’
+
+Mysie tried in her own persevering way to argue again that Val was only
+put out, and disappointed at having to turn back, to which Valetta, in
+spite of Gillian’s endeavour to silence her, added, ‘So stupid of her to
+come out! What did she do it for?’
+
+Dolores, who hardly ever cried, was tired into crying now. ‘You grudge
+me everything; you wouldn’t let me speak one single word to Uncle Regie,
+and kept bothering about! I’ll never do anything with you again! I
+won’t.’
+
+‘Did you want to speak to Uncle Regie?’ asked Mysie.
+
+‘To be sure I did! He is my uncle, that I knew ever so long before you
+did, and you never let him speak to me.’
+
+‘Mrs. Halfpenny always put us on the high chair, with our faces to the
+wall when we were jealous,’ remarked Valetta.
+
+‘But did you want to say anything to him in particular?’ said Mysie,
+revolving means of contriving a private interview.
+
+‘That’s no business of yours! I wish you would let me alone!’ broke
+out Dolores, in a fretful fright lest any one should guess that she had
+anything on her mind.
+
+‘To make up stories of us, of course,’ growled Valetta, but Gillian
+here interposed, declaring with authority that if she heard another word
+before they reached the paddock gate, she should certainly tell mother
+how disgracefully they had been behaving. When Gillian said such things
+she kept her word. Besides, by way of precaution, she marched down the
+muddy middle of the road, with Dolores limping along the footpath on one
+side, and Val as far off as possible on the border of the ditch, on the
+other; the more inoffensive Mysie keeping by her side. They were all
+weary, and Dolores was very footsore also, by the time they reached
+home, at the very moment that the two Misses Hacket appeared coming up
+the drive. Lady Merrifield, having the day before invited the elder, as
+the purchases needed to be looked over, and preparations set in hand,
+and she did not then know that her brother was coming.
+
+Dolores scarcely knew whether she was glad to see Constance. She had
+many doubts and qualms about that cheque. And if she had spent any quiet
+time alone with her uncle, she might have laid enough of her trouble
+before him to get some advice or help; but to ask for an interview,
+especially when ‘everybody’ thought it was to make complaints, was too
+uncomfortable and alarming; and she was inclined to escape from thought
+of the whole subject altogether by taking action quickly.
+
+Gillian gave her uncle’s message about not waiting; the dirty boots were
+taken off in the hall, and Constance followed her friend up to her room
+to take off her things.
+
+Dolores sat on the side of her bed, too much tired at first to be
+willing to move, Constance’s pity elicited tears, and that they had all
+been so very unkind to her; they were angry at her getting tired,
+and they were jealous of her even speaking to Uncle Regie. Again
+this alarmed Constance, ‘You weren’t going to tell him about Mr.
+Flinders--you know you promised.’
+
+‘He knows about him already, and he would tell me what to do.’
+
+‘Oh! but that would never do, darling Dolly. You told me all the family
+were hard and unjust, and he would tell Lady Merrifield, and we should
+never be allowed to see each other again. And only think of my poor
+little secret! I didn’t think you would have turned from your poor
+relation in misfortune for the sake of this grand Colonel.’
+
+The end of it was, that just as the gong was sounding, Dolores handed
+over to Constance an envelope directed to Mr. Flinders, and containing
+Mr. Maurice Mohun’s cheque. It was off her mind now, she thought, as she
+shuffled down to dinner, lookup so pale and uneasy that her aunt made
+her have a glass of wine and some gravy soup to begin with, and, when
+dinner was over, turned all the parcels off the school-room sofa, and
+made her lie upon it during the grand unpacking, which was almost
+as charming as the purchasing, perhaps more so, since there was no
+comparison with costlier articles.
+
+There was not very much time. This was Friday and Christmas Day was on
+Monday, so there were only two more clear week-days before the birthday
+and Miss Hacket would be church-decorating on the morrow; but Lady
+Merrifield would not send her daughters to help, as there were plenty of
+hands without them, and they were too young to trust in a mixed set, who
+were not always sure to be reverent.
+
+Dinner had rested and refreshed them; they rejoiced in the absence of
+the man-kind, and Primrose was sent out for her walk while the numerous
+boxes and packages were opened, and displayed sconces and tapers,
+gilt balls and glass birds, oranges and bon-bons, disguised in every
+imaginable fashion. There was a double set of the tapers, and two relays
+of devices in sweets, for the benefit of the party of the second night,
+a list of whom Miss Hacket had brought, that heads might be counted, and
+any deficiency supplied in time through Aunt Jane. For Lady Merrifield
+had commissioned Gillian to lay in--unknown to the good lady--a stock
+of such treasures as are valuable indeed to the little maid: shell
+pin-cushions, Cinderella slippers holding thimbles, cases of hair-pins,
+queer housewives, and the like things, wonderfully pretty for the
+price, and which filled the kind heart of Miss Hacket with rapture and
+gratitude at such brilliant additions to her own home-made contrivances
+in the way of cuffs, comforters, and illuminated workbags, all
+beautifully neat; I though it was hard to persuade her of what Lady
+Merrifield averred, that such things ought to be far more precious than
+brilliant, shop-bought, ready-made ware, ‘with no love-seed in it.’
+
+‘It is very hard,’ she said; ‘how fancy shops try to spoil all one used
+to be able to do for one’s friends. The purses, and the penwipers, and
+the needle-cases that were one’s choicest presents in my youth, are all
+turned out now smart and tight and fashioned, but without a scrap of the
+honest old labour and love that went into them.’
+
+‘But papa and mamma do care still,’ cried Gillian; ‘papa never will have
+any purse but the long ones mamma nets for him.’
+
+‘And mamma always will have the old brown and blue carriage-bag that
+Aunt Phyllis worked,’ chimed in Mysie, ‘though Claude did say he would
+throw it into the sea when we crossed from Dublin for it looked like an
+old housekeeper’s.’
+
+‘Claude was in a superfine condition then--in awe of an old Sandhurst
+comrade. He would be gild enough to see the old brown bag now, poor
+fellow,’ said Lady Merrifield, tenderly.
+
+So it went on, with merry chat and a good deal of real preparation, till
+the early darkness came on, and a great noise in the haul announced
+the return of ‘the boys,’ among whom Lady Merrifield still classed her
+colonel brother. They were muddy up to the eyes, but they had seen
+a great deal more than was easy to understand in their incoherent
+accounts. Wilfed had rolled into a wet ditch, and been picked out by his
+uncle and hung up to dry at a little village inn, where--this seemed
+to have been the supreme glory--they had made a meal on pigs’-liver
+and bread-and-cheese before plodding home again--losing their way
+under Wilfred’s confident pilotage--finding themselves five miles from
+home--getting a cast in a cart for the two little boys just as Fergus
+was almost ready to cry--Colonel Mohun and Jasper walking alongside of
+the carter for two miles, and conversing in a friendly manner, though
+the man said he knew the soldier by his step, and thought it was a
+pool-trade. Finally, he directed them by a short cut, which proved to be
+through a lane of clay and pools of such an adhesive nature that Fergus
+had to be pulled out step by step by main force by his uncle, who
+deposited him on some stones at the other end, and then came back to
+assist the struggles of Wilfred, who was slowly proceeding with Jasper’s
+help.
+
+‘And that’s the way we make you spend your Christmas holiday, Regie,’
+said Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘Never mind. Lily; mud was a congenial element to us both in old
+times, you know, so no wonder your brood take to it like ducks or
+hippopotamuses. I say, we ought to have come in by the rear. Couldn’t
+that imp of a buttons of yours come and scrape us before we go
+upstairs?’
+
+‘You are certainly grown older, Regie. You never would have thought of
+that once.’
+
+‘No more would you, Lily--so do yourself justice.’
+
+However, when five o’clock tea was spread in the drawing-room, and the
+Hacket ladies came in, Constance beheld such a splendid vision of a
+fine, fair, though sunburnt face, long, light moustaches, and tall
+figure, that she instantly assumed her most affected graces, and did not
+wonder the less that the Mohuns were all so very high.
+
+Dolores’s strong desire for a private interview with her uncle died away
+when Constance carried off the cheque. She knew he would tell her she
+had no right to give it, and she did not want to be told so, nor to have
+any special inquiries made. She was not sorry that an invitation from a
+neighbour kept him and Hal out shooting all Saturday, and, on the other
+hand, she so far shrank from Constance’s talk about Mr. Flinders as not
+to be vexed that it was too wet on Sunday afternoon for any going down
+to Casement Cottages.
+
+It was on that wet afternoon, however, that Uncle Reginald, crossing
+the hall for once without his tail of followers, saw her slowly dragging
+downstairs with a book in her hand.
+
+‘Well, Miss Doll,’ he said; ‘you don’t look very jolly! What’s the
+matter?’
+
+‘Nothing, Uncle Regie.’
+
+‘I don’t believe in nothing. Here,’ sitting down on the stairs, with an
+arm round her, ‘tell me all about it, Dolly, we are old chums, you know.
+Have you got into a row?’
+
+‘Oh no!’
+
+‘Is there anything I can put straight?’
+
+‘No, thank you, Uncle Regie.’
+
+‘There’s something amiss!’ said the good-natured, puzzled uncle. ‘What
+is it? I should have thought you would have got on with these young
+folks like--like a house on fire.’
+
+‘That’s all you know about it,’ thought Dolly. What she said was, ‘One
+never does.’
+
+‘I don’t understand that generalization,’ answered her uncle; then, as
+she did not answer, he added, ‘I am sure your Aunt Lily is very anxious
+to make you happy. Have you anything to complain of?’
+
+‘No,’ said Dolores, ‘I don’t complain of anything.’
+
+She was thinking of Valetta’s notion that she wanted to ‘make up stories
+of them,’ and therefore she said it in a manner which conveyed that she
+had a good deal to complain of, if she would, though really she would
+have been a good deal puzzled to produce a grievance that a man like
+Uncle Reginald would understand, though she had plenty for sympathy like
+Constance’s.
+
+However, it was not to be expected that a private conference should last
+long in that house, and Mysie appeared at that moment, looking for her
+cousin, to say that ‘Mamma was ready for her.’ Dolores went off with
+more alacrity than usual, and Uncle Reginald beckoned up his other
+niece, and observed: ‘I say, Mysie, what’s the matter with Dolly?’
+
+‘She is always like that, uncle,’ answered Mysie.
+
+‘Don’t you hit it off with her, then?’
+
+‘I can’t, uncle,’ said Mysie, looking up, with a sudden wink now and
+then to stop her tears. ‘I thought we should have been such friends; but
+she won’t let me. I didn’t mean to be stupid and disagreeable, like the
+girls in ‘Ashenden Schoolroom,’ but she doesn’t care for anybody but
+Miss Constance and Maude Sefton.’
+
+‘I hope you are all very kind to her,’ said Uncle Reginald, rather
+wistfully.
+
+‘We try,’ said Mysie, who was not going to betray Wilfred and Valetta,
+and could honestly say so of herself and Gillian.
+
+And there again came an interruption, in the shape of Gillian. ‘Mysie,
+mamma says we may finish up our sacred illuminated cards, for it will be
+Sunday work.’
+
+‘Oh, jolly!’ cried Mysie, jumping up. ‘And will you give me one rub of
+your real good carmine Gilly-flower, dear.’
+
+‘And of my ultramarine, too,’ responded Gillian, wherewith the two
+sisters disappeared, radiant with goodwill and gratitude; while poor
+Uncle Reginald, who had intended to devote this wet Sunday afternoon to
+writing to his brother that Dolores was perfectly happy and thriving in
+Lily’s care, and like a sister to his other favourite, Mysie, remained
+disappointed and perplexed, wondering whether the poor little maiden
+were homesick, or whether no children could be depended on for kindness
+when out of sight, and deciding that he should defer his letter till
+he had seen a little more, and talked to his sister Jane, who could see
+through a milestone any day.
+
+It was understood that mamma preferred home-made cards to bought ones,
+so there was always a great manufacture of them in the weeks previous
+to Christmas, the comparative failures being exchanged among the younger
+members.
+
+The presents were always reserved for Valetta’s birthday and the tree,
+and this rendered the circulation of the cards doubly interesting. In
+the immediate family alone, there were thirteen times thirteen, besides
+those coming from, and going to outsiders, so that it was as well that
+a good many should be of domestic manufacture, either with pencil and
+brush, or of tiny leaves carefully dried and gummed. And mamma had kept
+an album, with names and dates, into which all these home efforts were
+inserted, and nothing else! This year’s series began with a little
+chestnut curl of Primrose’s hair, fastened down on a card by Gillian,
+and rose to a beautiful drawing of a blue Indian Lotus lily, with a
+gorgeous dragon-fly on it, sent by Alethea. The Indian party had sent a
+card for every one--the girls, beautiful drawings of birds, insects, and
+scenery; the brother, a bundle of rice-paper figured with costumes,
+and papa, some clever pen-and-ink outlines of odd figures, which his
+daughters beguiled from him in his leisure moments!
+
+As to the home circle, it is enough to say that their performances were
+highly satisfactory to the makers, and were rewarded by mamma’s kisses,
+and the text or verse she had secretly illuminated for each. She had no
+time to do more, and the series were infinitely prized and laid up as
+treasures. There were plenty of ornamental cards from without to be
+admired: the Brighton and Beechcroft aunts; the Stokesley cousins, and
+whole multitudes of friends pouring them in as usual; so that the entire
+review seemed to occupy all those free moments of the Christmas Day,
+when the young folks were neither at church, nor at meals, nor singing
+carols themselves, nor hearing the choir sing in the hall, nor looking
+over photograph books and hearing old family stories. This last
+occupation was received in the family as the regular evening pleasure,
+ending in all singing, ‘When shepherds watch their flocks by night.’
+
+Dolores had a card from her aunt and each of her cousins, besides one of
+the parcel Uncle Reginald had brought. She did not think enough of the
+very bad drawing and smeared painting of the ambitious attempts she
+received, to feel at all disconcerted at having no reciprocity to offer.
+The only cards she had sent were to Constance Hacket, to Fraulein, and
+to Maude Sefton--the last with a sore sense of the long interval since
+she had heard.
+
+However, there was a card from Maude, but it was a very poor one,
+looking very much like a last year’s possession, and the letter was not
+much better, being chiefly an apology for having been too busy to write.
+Maude was going to lectures with Nona Styles--Nona was such a darling
+girl--and breaking off because she was wanted to rehearse Cinderella
+with this same darling Nona.
+
+It made Dolores’s heart go down farther, though there was a beautiful
+and unexpected card from Mrs. Sefton, one from her former servant,
+Caroline, also from Fraulein, and three or four from old friends of her
+mother, who had remembered the solitary girl. In truth, she had more
+beautiful ones than anybody else, but she kept these in their envelopes,
+and showed herself so much averse to free fingering and admiration of
+them that Lady Merrifield had to call off Valetta, remind her that her
+cousin had a right to her own cards, and hear in return that Dolores was
+so cross.
+
+‘Dolly,’ said Uncle Reginald, in a low voice, since he was permitted
+to look over the cards with her, ‘I think I have found out part of your
+troubles.’
+
+She looked at him in alarm.
+
+He put his finger on a card bearing the words, ‘Goodwill to men.’
+
+‘Umph,’ said she. ‘I don’t want everything of mine messed and spoilt.’
+
+And as his eye fell on Fergus’s cards, he felt there was reason in what
+she said.
+
+Aunt Lily had taken her for a quarter of an hour that morning, trying to
+infuse the real thought underlying the joy that makes it Christmas, not
+only yule-tide. But it all fell flat--it was all lessons to her--imposed
+on her on a day that she had not been used to see made what she called
+‘goody.’ Last year her father had shut himself up after church, and she
+had spent the evening in noisy mirth with the Seftons.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. -- AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX
+
+
+
+Aunt Adeline was afraid of winter journeys as well as of the tumultuous
+festivities of Silverton; so at twelve o’clock. Colonel Mohun drove the
+pony-carriage to meet the little trim Brownie who stepped out of the
+station, the porter carrying behind her a huge thing, long, and swathed
+in brown paper. ‘It is quite light; it won’t hurt,’ she said, ‘It must
+go with us. Put your legs across it, Regie. That’s right.’
+
+‘Then what becomes of yours?’
+
+‘Mine can go anywhere,’ said Miss Mohun, crumpling herself up in some
+mysterious manner under the fur rug, while they drove off, her luggage
+sticking far off on either side of the splashboard.
+
+‘What, in the name of wonder, are you smuggling in there?’
+
+‘If you must know, it is the body of a mummy over whose dissection you
+will have to assist.’
+
+‘Ah! Rotherwood is coming.’
+
+‘Rotherwood!’
+
+‘And his little girl. Just like him. Lily gets a note this morning from
+London, telling her to telegraph if she can’t have them by the 5.20
+train. I’ve just been ordering a fly. It seems that Lady Rotherwood,
+going to meet Ivinghoe at the station, coming from school, found he had
+measles coming out! So they packed off his sister to Beechcroft without
+having seen him, and thence Rotherwood took her to London.’
+
+‘And is having a fine frolic with her, no doubt; but he might as well
+have given Lily more notice, considering that a marquess or two makes
+more difference to her household than it does to his.’
+
+‘Oh! she is glad enough, only in some trepidation as to how Mrs.
+Halfpenny may receive the unspecified maid that the child may bring.’
+
+‘How jolly we shall be! I wish Ada had come.’
+
+‘I tried to drag her out, but it gets harder and harder to shake her up.
+You must come back with me and see her.’
+
+‘I say, Jane, have you seen Maurice’s child lately?’
+
+‘Not very. She wouldn’t come with the others last week.’
+
+‘What do you think about her? I thought leaving her with Lily would
+have been the making of her. Indeed, I told Maurice there could not be a
+better brought up set anywhere than the Merrifields, and that Lily would
+mother her like one of her own; and now I find her moping about, looking
+regularly down in the mouth. I got hold of her one day and tried to find
+out what was the matter, but she only said she would not complain. Can
+they bully her?’
+
+‘I’ll tell you what, Maurice, Lily is a great deal too kind to her. She
+has a kind of temper that won’t let them make friends with her.’
+
+‘Come now! She was a nice jolly little girl at home. She and I have had
+no end of larks together, and it is hard to blame her for fretting after
+her home, poor child--Aye! I know you never liked her, or she might have
+done better with you and Ada than turned in among a lot of imps.’
+
+‘I’m thankful it was otherwise!’
+
+‘Now do, Jane, set your mind to it. Don’t be prejudiced, but make those
+sharp eyes of some use. I really feel bound to give Maurice an account
+of Dolly, and tell him what is best for her.’
+
+‘I believe,’ said Jane, ‘that there is some counter-influence at work,
+and I am trying to find it out; but, after all, I believe patience is
+the only thing, and that Lily will conquer her if nobody meddles.’
+
+‘’Tis not Lily I am afraid of, but her children.’
+
+‘Nonsense, Regie; one would think you had never been turned loose into
+school to be licked into shape.’
+
+‘She is a girl, not a cub like me.’
+
+‘A worse cub, for she has not your temper, sir, and, moreover, you had
+had the wholesome discipline of a large family. Besides, nobody teases
+but Wilfred. Gillian and Mysie behave like angels to the tiresome puss.’
+
+‘Well, I’m bound to believe you, Jenny, but I don’t like the looks of
+it.’
+
+Aunt Jane’s mysterious parcel was greeted rapturously, and conveyed into
+the dining-room, which had a semi-circular end, filled with glass,
+and capable of being shut off with heavy curtains when the season made
+snugness desirable. This bay had been set apart from the first for her
+operations, the tree, whose second season it was, having been taken up
+and already erected in the centre of the room, not much the worse for
+last year’s excursion, for, if rather stunted, that was all the better.
+No one was excluded from the decoration thereof, since that was the best
+part of the sport to those too old for the mystery--and yet young enough
+to fasten sconces where their candles would infallibly set fire to the
+twigs above them. The only defaulters were Jasper, who had preferred
+going down to the meadows with his gun; and Dolores, who had retired
+to the drawing-room with a book, on having a paper star removed from
+immediate risk of conflagration. ‘They were determined not to let her
+help,’ she said.
+
+So she only emerged when the workers halted for a merry, hurried meal in
+the schoolroom, where Jasper appeared, very late, very cross at having
+had to make himself fit to be seen, and, likewise, at having brought
+home no spoil, the snipes having been so malicious as to escape him.
+Having sallied forth before the post came in, it was only now that it
+broke on him that visitors were expected, and he did not like it at all.
+
+‘I thought we had got rid of all the enemy!’ he growled, at his end of
+the table.
+
+‘That’s what he calls Constance.’ thought Dolores.
+
+‘Polite,’ observed Gillian.
+
+‘This will be worse still, being lord and ladies grumbled on Jasper, ‘I
+hate swells.’
+
+‘Oh! but these aren’t like horrid, common, fine lords and ladies,’ cried
+Mysie; ‘why, you know all mamma’s old stories about the fun they had
+with cousin Rotherwood.
+
+‘What’s the good of that! That’s a hundred years ago. He’ll just make
+mamma and Uncle Regie of no good at all! And then there’s a girl too--’
+(in a tone of inconceivable disgust) ‘I don’t want strange girls--an
+awful stuck-up swell of a Londoner, not able to do anything! I wish I
+had gone to spend Christmas with Bruce! I would if I had known it was to
+be like this.’
+
+The speech brought Mysie to the verge of tears. Aunt Jane’s sharp ears
+heard it, and she looked at the head of the table, expecting to hear a
+rebuke; but Lady Merrifield turned a deaf ear on that side. Only after
+the meal, she called her son, ‘Jasper,’ she said, ‘I want to send a note
+to Redford, if you like to ride over with it. You need not come home
+till eight o’clock, if it is moonlight, it the boys are disengaged, and
+if you do really wish to keep out of the way.’
+
+Jasper’s eyes fell under hers.
+
+‘Mamma, I don’t want that.’
+
+‘Only you said more than you meant, Japs. If it relieves your mind, it
+hurts other people. But I do want the note taken, so go and come back in
+time for the sports; which I don’t think you will find much damaged.’
+
+Meantime, Aunt Jane had ensconced herself behind the curtains; where she
+admitted no one but Miss Vincent and Uncle Reginald, and in process
+of time, mamma and Macrae. The others were still fully employed in
+garnishing the tree, though it was only to bear lights, ornaments and
+sweets. All solid articles had been for some time past committed to a
+huge box, or ottoman, the veteran companion of the family travels, which
+stood in the centre of the bay. Into its capacious interior everybody
+had been dropping parcels of various sizes and shapes, with addresses in
+all sorts of hands, which were to find their destination on this great
+evening. This was part of the mystery that kept Mysie and Valetta in one
+continual dance and caper. It was all they could do not to peep between
+the curtains when the privileged mortals went in and out, bearing all
+sorts of mysterious loads well covered up from all eyes. Wilfred did
+make one attempt, but something extraordinary snapped at his nose, with
+a sharp crack, and drove him back with a start.
+
+A lamp had been taken thither, and there really was nothing more to do
+to the tree, the scraps of packing had been picked up, and the hands,
+tingling from fir-needle pricks, had been washed, though not without
+protest from Valetta that it wasn’t worth while, and from Wilfred that
+it was all along of these horrid swells--!
+
+The sound of wheels summoned Lady Merrifield and her brother from the
+place of mystery, and they were in the hall when a fresh gust of keen
+air came in from the door, an ulstered figure hurried in, and something
+small and furred was put into the lady’s embrace.
+
+‘Here’s my Fly, Lily--! Look, Fly, here they all are--all the cousins.
+Off with the hat. Let us see your funny little face.’
+
+It was a funny little smiling face, set in short, light, wavy hair, not
+exactly pretty, but with a bright, quaint, confiding look, as if used to
+be shown off by her father, and ready to make friends on the spot. ‘And
+how is your boy?’ as the round of greetings was completed, and the wraps
+thrown off.
+
+‘Going on capitally, better than he deserves, the young scamp, for
+suppressing all symptoms for fear he should be hindered from coming
+home. His mother was in a proper fright, she showed him to the doctor on
+the way, who told her to put him to bed at once, and send his sister out
+of the house. She never set eyes on him, or I would not have brought her
+here.’
+
+‘I am exceedingly glad you have,’ said Lady Merrifield, bending for
+another kiss.
+
+‘And Lily, I’ve done another awful thing. Victoria kept old nurse to
+help with Ivinghoe, and we brought the Swiss bonne, Louise, away with
+us, but the poor thing found her sister very ill in London, and I hadn’t
+the heart to bring her away, so Phyllis said she would do for herself,
+if your maid, or some of them, would have an eye to her.’
+
+‘There! I’m doubly glad, Rotherwood! If I had any fears it was not of
+you, or Phyllis; but that like Vich Ian Vhor, she should have her tail
+on. And, oh! Rotherwood, do you know what you are in for?’
+
+‘High jinks of some sort, I’ve no doubt. We picked up a couple of boxes
+at Gunter’s and Miller’s with a view thereto. Who is master of the
+revels?’
+
+‘Jane. She’s too deep in preparations to come forth at present. Gillian,
+will you take Phyllis to the nursery, and take care of her. We are to
+have a very high tea at half-past six; but, Rotherwood, I promise that
+another day you shall have a respectable dinner in this house.’
+
+‘Return to the prose of life, eh, Lily? Well, Fly, what do you think of
+it?’
+
+‘Oh, daddy, aren’t you glad we came?’ she cried, dancing off, in
+Gillian’s wake, arm-in-arm with Mysie and Valetta, while he called after
+her, ‘Find the boxes, and make them over to the right quarter.’
+
+This was enough to make the whole bevy of children rush away, and only
+the three elders remained. Lord Rotherwood said, ‘This is short notice.
+Lily; but I did not know Reginald was here, and I thought you might want
+help. Don’t be frightened, only a queer thing has happened. I went to
+W.’s bank yesterday. I thought they looked at me as if something was
+up, and by-and-by one of the partners came and took me into his private
+room. There he showed me a cheque, and asked my opinion whether the
+writing was Maurice’s. And I should say it decidedly was, but it was
+actually for seventy pounds, payable to order of Miss Dolores M. Mohun.’
+
+‘Seventy!’
+
+‘Yes, and dated the 19th of August.’
+
+‘Just before Maurice went.’
+
+There was a sudden silence, for the door opened; but it was to admit
+Miss Mohun, who began, ‘Oh! Rotherwood, you are too munificent. Why,
+what’s the matter?’ Lady Merrifield hastily explained, as far as she yet
+understood, what had brought him.
+
+‘How did they get the cheque?’ she asked.
+
+‘Sent up from the country bank where it had been cashed--Darminster.’
+
+‘Ah!’ came from both the aunts.
+
+Lord Rotherwood went on. ‘They asked me who Miss Dolores Mohun was, and
+I could do no otherwise than tell them, and likewise where to find her,
+but I explained that she is a mere child; and I told them I would come
+down here, so I hope you will have as little annoyance as possible.’
+
+‘It is very good of you, Rotherwood, but I can’t understand it at all.
+Was her name on the back?’
+
+‘Certainly; I told them I thought the whole thing must be a well got up
+forgery, and a confidential clerk was to go down today to Darminster to
+try to find out who gave it in there.’
+
+‘Darminster! Flinders!’ ejaculated Miss Mohun.
+
+‘Regie,’ exclaimed Lady Merrifield; ‘what did you say about having seen
+some one like Dolores at Darminster station?’
+
+‘I was nearly jumping out after her. I should have said it was herself,
+if it had not been impossible. Why she was with you at Rockstone, and it
+was a pouring, dripping day,’ said the colonel.
+
+‘No, she was not. She begged to spend the day with Constance Hacket, and
+we picked her up as we came home. Poor child, what has she been doing? I
+have not looked after her properly.’
+
+‘But need she have had anything to do with it?’ said Colonel Mohun. ‘How
+should a cheque of Maurice’s come into her possession?’
+
+‘She did tell me,’ said Lady Merrifield,’ that her father had left one
+with her to pay for some German scientific book that might be sent for
+him.’
+
+‘I see, then!’ cried Miss Mohun. ‘That wretch Flinders must have got
+into communication with her, and induced her to fill up her father’s
+cheque for him.’
+
+‘But why should it be Flinders?’ said Lord Rotherwood.
+
+‘Jane found out that he is living at Darminster, and has been trying to
+put me on my guard,’ returned Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘It is all that fellow Flinders, depend upon it,’ said Colonel Mohun.
+‘He is quite capable of it, and you’ll find poor Dolly has nothing to
+do with it. Quite preposterous. And look here, Lily, let the poor child
+alone to enjoy herself tonight. Most likely Rotherwood’s clerk, or
+detective, or whatever he may be, will have ferreted out the rights of
+the matter at Darminster. I sincerely hope he will, and have Flinders
+in custody, and then you would have upset her and accused her all for
+nothing.’
+
+‘I am glad you think so, Regie,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘I am thankful
+enough to wait, and hope it will be explained without spoiling the
+children’s evening.’
+
+‘All right,’ said the visitor; ‘I only hope I have not spoilt yours.’
+
+‘Oh! one learns to throw things off. I shall believe it is all Flinders,
+and none of it the child’s,’ said Lady Merrifield, carefully avoiding
+a glance that could show her any gesture of dissent on the part of her
+sister, and only looking up for her brother’s nod of approval. ‘Besides,
+how foolish it would be to worry myself when I have two such protectors!
+It was very good in you, Rotherwood, I only hope we shall take good care
+of your Fly, and that her mother will be satisfied about her.’
+
+‘She knew the little woman and I should have a lark together,’ said he.
+‘The governess was safe out of reach, holiday-making, so I could have
+her all to myself. Victoria suggested her brother’s, and we must go
+there before we have done, but business and the pantomime by good luck
+took us to London first. So when I wrote to you from the bank, I also
+let her know that I was obliged to take the little woman down here
+first. I couldn’t take her to High Court till Louise is available
+again.’
+
+‘So much the better, I’m sure.’
+
+‘And what I was going to say is, that Rotherwood has been startlingly
+munificent and splendid,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘We shall have a set of new
+surprises.’
+
+‘I don’t in the least know what I brought. I only told each of them to
+put up such a box as they sent out for Christmas concerns. Do precisely
+what you please with them.’
+
+‘Come and see, Lily, for I think there will be enough to reserve a fresh
+lot of things for Miss Hacket’s affair. By-the-by, Regie, did you say it
+rained at Darminster?’
+
+‘Poured all the way down.’
+
+‘Well, we had it quite fine.’
+
+‘Was it fine here?’
+
+‘Yes, certainly,’ said Lady Merrifield,’ or Primrose would not have gone
+out. Take care of Rotherwood, Regie. You know his room.’
+
+And the two sisters crossed the hall, where the ‘very high tea’ was
+being laid; hearing from the regions above sounds of exquisite glee and
+merriment, as perfect and almost as inexpressive of anything else as the
+singing of birds, so that they themselves could not help answering with
+a laugh, before they vanished into the chamber of mystery.
+
+Indeed, Phyllis’s conversation was like a fairy tale. Her brother’s
+illness, which was not enough to damp any one’s spirits, had prevented
+or hindered a grand children’s party as the Butterfly’s Ball, where she
+was to have been the Butterfly, and Lord Ivinghoe the Grasshopper, and
+all the children were to appear as one of the characters in Roscoe’s
+pretty poem. Never was anything more delightful to the imagination of
+the little cousins, and they could not marvel enough at her seeming so
+little uneasy about anything so charming, and quite ready and eager
+to throw herself headlong into all their present enjoyments, making
+wonderful surmises as to the mystery in preparation.
+
+Dolores heard the laughing, and it did not suit with her vaguely uneasy
+and injured frame of mind; feeling dreadfully lonely too, as she came
+downstairs, dressed for the evening, but not knowing where to go, for
+the dining-room was engrossed, the schoolroom was dark and the fire out,
+the drawing-room occupied by the two gentlemen. She crouched down in
+one of the big arm-chairs on either side of the hearth in the hall, and
+began to read by the firelight. Presently Jasper came in from his ride,
+and began taking off his greatcoat, leggings, and boots, whistling as he
+did so, then, perceiving the tempting object of a black leg sticking out
+of the chair, he stole up across the soft carpet, and caught hold of the
+ankle. He received a vigorous kick in return (which perhaps he expected)
+but what he did not expect was the black figure that rose up in outraged
+dignity and indignation. ‘For shame! I won’t be insulted!’
+
+‘Whew! I thought ‘twas Val! I beg your pardon.’
+
+‘I shall ask my aunt if I am to be insulted.’
+
+‘Well, if you choose to take it in that way--A man can’t do more than
+beg pardon! I’m sure I would never have presumed to touch you if I had
+known it was your Dolorousness.’
+
+And he turned to walk away, just as the babbling ripple of laughter
+began to flow downstairs, and a whole mass of little girls intertwined
+together was descending. ‘I always hop,’ said a voice new to him,
+‘except on the great staircase, and mother doesn’t like it there. But
+this is such a jolly stair. Can’t you hop?’
+
+Hopping in a threefold embrace on a slippery stair was hardly a safe
+pastime, and before Jasper had time to utter more than’ Holloa there!
+take care!’ there descended suddenly on him an avalanche of little
+girls, ‘knocking him off his feet, so that all promiscuously rolled down
+two or three steps together. Fergus and Primrose, who had somehow been
+holding on behind,’ remained upright, but nevertheless screaming. The
+shrieks of the fallen were, however, laughter. There was a soft rug
+below, and by the time the gentlemen had rushed out of the dining-room,
+and the ladies from the curtained recess, giggling below and legs above
+were chiefly apparent.
+
+‘Any one hurt?’ was of course Lady Merrifield’s cry.
+
+‘Oh no, mamma. Only we are so mixed up we can’t get up,’ called out
+Mysie.
+
+‘Is this arm you or me?’ exclaimed Phyllis, following up the joke.
+
+‘Come, sort yourselves, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Lord Rotherwood.
+‘What’s this, a Fly’s wing?’
+
+‘No, it’s mine,’ cried Val, as his hand pulled her out, and the others
+extricated themselves, still laughing, go that they could hardly stand,
+and Fly declaring, ‘Oh, daddy, daddy, it is such fun! I am so glad we
+came,’ and taking a gratuitous leap into the air.
+
+‘Every one to her taste,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘I congratulate those to
+whom a compound tumble-down-stairs is felicity.’
+
+‘She has found her congenial element, you see,’ said her father, as the
+elders proceeded upstairs to their toilette.’ ‘Tis laughing-gas with her
+to be with other children, and the most laughingest of all are naturally
+yours, old Lily.’
+
+Meanwhile Jasper, risen on his stocking soles, looked all over at the
+little figure, dressed old picture fashion, in the simplest white frock
+with blue sash, and short-cut hair tied back with blue.
+
+‘Well, you are a jolly little girl,’ he said, ‘and a cool customer, too!
+What do you mean by knocking a fellow over the first time you see him?’
+
+‘And what do you mean by coming like a great--huge--big elephant in our
+way to stop up the stairs?’ demanded Fly, in return.
+
+‘Do you mean to insinivate that ‘twas I that made you fall?’ said
+Jasper--‘I, that was quietly walking up the stairs, when down there came
+on me a shower--not cats and dogs, but worserer, far worserer! Why, I’m
+kilt! my nose is flat as a pancake, I shan’t recover my beauty all the
+evening for the great swells that are coming.’
+
+‘Jasper, Japs,’ called his mother’s warning voice, ‘you must come up and
+dress, for tea is going in.’
+
+He obeyed, rushing two steps at a time; but meeting, at the bottom of
+the attic flight, his sister Gillian, he demanded, ‘Gill, what awfully
+jolly little girl have they got down there?’
+
+‘Why, Fly, of course, Lady Phyllis Devereux--’
+
+‘No, no, nothing swell, a comical little soul, with no nonsense about
+her, in a white thing.’
+
+‘Well, that’s Phyllis. There’s no one else there.’
+
+‘I say. Gill, ‘tis like sunshine and clouds. She and the other, I mean.
+Why, I gave a little pull to a foot I saw in the armchair, thinking
+it belonged to Val, and out breaks my Lady of the Rueful Countenance,
+vowing she’ll complain that I’ve insulted her; and as to the other, the
+whole lot of them tumbled over me together on the stairs, and she did
+nothing but laugh and chaff.’
+
+‘I hope she is not a romp,’ said the staid Gillian, sagely, as she went
+downstairs.
+
+But on that score she was soon satisfied. Phyllis Devereux was a
+thorough little lady, wild and merry as she was, and enchanted to be
+in the rare fairyland of child companionship. And that indeed she
+had, Mysie and Valetta, between whose ages she stood, hung to
+her inseparably, and Jasper was quite transformed from his grim
+superciliousness into her devoted knight. At tea-time there was a
+competition for the seats next to her, determined by Valetta’s taking
+one side, in right of the birthday, and Jasper the other, because he
+secured it, and Mysie gave way to him because he was Japs, and she
+always did. While Dolores laid up a store of moralizings on the
+adulation paid to the little lady of title, and at the same time
+speculated what concatenation of circumstances could ever make her Lady
+Dolores Mohun. On the whole, it would be more likely that her father
+should gain a peerage by putting down a Fijian rebellion than that it
+should be discovered that his mother, Lady Emily, had been the true
+heiress of the marquessate, and even so, an uncomfortable number of
+people must be disposed of before it could come to him. She had one
+consolation, however, for Uncle Reginald, always kind to her, was
+particularly affectionate this evening, as if he would not have that
+little foolish Fly set up before her.
+
+The tea and the tree both went off joyously. There is no need to
+describe the spectacle to folks who can count their Christmas-trees by
+the years of their life and the memorable part of this one was that much
+of the fruit that had been left hanging on it was now metamorphosed
+into something much more gorgeous--oranges had become eggs full of
+sugar-plums, gutta-percha monkeys grinned on the branches, golden
+flowers had sprung to life on the ends of the twigs, a lovely jewel-like
+lantern crowned the whole, and as to sweets, everybody--servants and
+all--had some delightful devices containing them, whether drum, bird, or
+bird’s nest.
+
+Before the distribution was over, it was observed that Aunt Jane and
+Uncle Reginald, also Harry, had vanished from the scene. There was a
+pause, during which such tapers as began to burn perilously low, were
+extinguished, an operation as delightful apparently as the fixing them.
+Presently a horn was heard, and a start or shudder of mysterious ecstasy
+pervaded the audience, as a tall figure came through the curtains, and
+announced:
+
+‘Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honour to inform you that a fresh
+discovery has been made in the secret chambers of the Pyramid of Chops,
+otherwise known as Te-Gun-Ter-ra. A mummy has been disinterred, which
+is about to be opened by the celebrated Egyptologist, Herr Professor
+Freudigfeldius, who has likewise discovered the means of making such
+a conjuration of the Sphynx that she will not only summon each of the
+present company by name, but will require of each of them to reply to a
+question. The penalty of a refusal is well known!’
+
+Therewith the curtains were drawn back, and a scene was presented which
+made some of the spectators start. Behind was the semblance of a wall
+marked with the joints of large stones, and lighted (apparently) with
+two brass lamps. On the floor lay extended an enormous mummy, with the
+regulation canvas case, and huge flaps of ears, between which appeared
+a small, painted face, and below lay a long, gaily coloured scroll in
+hieroglyphics. Exalted stiffly in a seat placed on a seeming block of
+stone, was a figure, with elbows, as it were glued to its sides, and
+hands crossed, altogether stone-coloured and monumental, and with the
+true Sphynx head, surrounded with beetles, lizards, and other mystic
+creatures (very chocolate-coloured). And beside her stood the Herr
+Professor, in a red fez, long dark gown, and spectacles, a flowing
+beard concealing the rest of his face. How delightful to see such an
+Egyptologist! Even though one perfectly knew the family beard and
+fez; also that the gown was papa’s old dressing-gown, captured for the
+theatrical wardrobe. And how grand to hear him speak, even though his
+broken English continually became more vernacular.
+
+‘Liebes Herrschaft,’ he began, ‘I would, nobles, gentry, and ladies say.
+You here see the embalmed rests of the celebrated monarch Nic-nac-ci-no.
+Lately up have I them graben, and likewise his tutelar Sphynx have
+found, and have even to give signs of animation compelled.’
+
+Touching the effigy with his wand, she emitted certain growls and
+hisses, which made Primrose hide her face in alarm at anything so
+uncanny, and Lord Rotherwood observe--
+
+‘Nearly related to the cat-goddess Pasht; I thought so.’
+
+‘There was something of the lion or cat in the Sphynx,’ said Gillian,
+gravely, while the three little girls clasped each other’s hands with
+delightful thrills of awe and expectation.
+
+‘Observe,’ continued the Professor, ‘the outer case with the features of
+the deceased is painted. I should conclude that King Nic-nac, etcetera,
+had been of a peculiarly jolly--I mean frolich--nature, judging by the
+grin on his face. We proceed--’
+
+As he laid his hand on the wrapper, the Sphynx gave utterance to sounds
+so like the bad language of a cat that some looked round for one. The
+Professor waved at her, and she subsided. He turned back the covering,
+and demanded, ‘Will the amiable Fraulein there. Mademoiselle Valetta,
+come and see what treasures she can discover in the secrets of the
+tomb?’
+
+Val, who in right of her birthday, had expected the first call, jumped
+up, but the Sphynx made awful noises as she advanced, and the Professor
+explained that she would have to answer the Sphynx’s question first.
+
+‘But I don’t know Egyptian,’ she observed.
+
+‘Never mind, it will sound like English.’
+
+It did so, for it was, ‘How many months old art thou, maiden?’
+
+Val’s arithmetic was slightly scared. She clasped her hand nervously,
+and was indebted to the Professor for the sotto voce hint, ‘twelve
+nines,’ before she uttered ‘a hundred and eight.’
+
+The Sphynx relapsed into stoniness, and the Herr Professor guided the
+hands, which trembled a little, to the interior of the mummy, whence
+they drew out a basket, labelled (wonderful to relate) ‘Val,’
+and containing--oh! such treasures, a blue egg full of needlework
+implements, a new book, an Indian ivory case, a skipping-rope, a
+shuttlecock, and other delights past description. The exhibition of them
+was only beginning when the Professor called for Primrose, who was too
+much frightened to come alone, and therefore was permitted to be brought
+by Mrs. Halfpenny. The Sphynx was particularly amiable on this occasion,
+and only asked ‘When Primroses came?’ and as the little one, in her shy
+fright did not reply, nurse did so, with, ‘Come, missie, can’t you find
+a word to tell that mamma’s Primrose came in spring.’ This was allowed
+to pass, and Mrs. Halfpenny bore off her child, clutching a doll’s
+cradle, stuffed with pretty things, and for herself a bundle wrapped up
+in a shawl from Sir Jasper himself.
+
+After Primrose was gone to bed, the Sphynx became much more ill-tempered
+and demonstrative, snarling considerably at the approach of some of
+the party, some of whom replied with convulsive laughter, some, such
+as Jasper, with demonstrations of ‘poking up the Sphynx.’ She had a
+question for everybody--Fly was asked, ‘Which was best, a tree or a
+Butterfly’s ball?’ and answered, with truthful politeness, that where
+Mysie and Val were was best of all. She carried off a collection that
+had hastily been made of Indian curiosities, photographs of her two
+friends, and a book; and her father, after being asked, ‘What was
+the best of insects?’ and replying, ‘On the whole, I think it is my
+housefly, even when she isn’t a butterfly,’ received a letter-weight
+of brass, fashioned like an enormous fly, which Lady Merrifield had
+snatched up from the table for the purpose. The maids giggled at the
+well-known conundrums proposed to them, and Dolores had a very easy
+question--’ What was the weather this day week?’
+
+‘A horrid wet day,’ she promptly answered, and found herself endowed
+with a parcel containing some of the best presents of all, bangles from
+the Indian box, a beautiful pair of stork-like scissors, a writing-case,
+etc.
+
+‘The Sphynx’s invention is running low,’ observed Jasper to Gillian,
+when the creature put the same question about last week’s weather to
+Herbert, the page-boy, as a prelude to his discovering the treasures of
+the mummy, as a knife and an umbrella. His view of the weather was that
+it was ‘A fine day ma’am! yes, a fine day.’
+
+Macrae came last, and the Sphynx asked him which of the two contrary
+views was right.
+
+‘It was fine, ma’am, that I know. For I walked down with nurse, and
+little Miss Primrose into Silverton, to help to carry her in case she
+was tired, and we never had occasion to put up an umbrella.’
+
+Wherewith Macrae received his combination of gifts and retired; the
+mummy being completely rifled, and the construction of the body, a frame
+of light, open wicker-work, revealed. Aunt Jane had had it made at the
+basketmaker’s, while as to the head and covering, her own ingenious
+fingers had painted and fashioned them. Everybody had to look at
+everybody’s presents, a lengthened operation, and then there was a
+splendid game at blindman’s-buff in the hall, in which all the elders
+joined, except mamma, who had to go and sit in the nursery with the
+restless and excited Primrose while Mrs. Halfpenny and Lots went down to
+the servants’ festivity.
+
+When she came down again, it was to quiet the tempest of merriment,
+and send off the younger folks in succession to bed, till only the four
+elders and Hal remained on the scene, waiting till there was reason to
+think the household would be ready for prayers.
+
+‘It was Dolores that you saw at Darminster, Reginald,’ said Miss Mohun,
+quietly.
+
+‘You Sphynx woman, how do you know?’
+
+‘You said it was raining at Darminster.’
+
+‘Yes, that it was, everywhere beyond the tunnel through the Darfield
+hills.’
+
+‘Exactly, I know they make a line in the rainfall. Well, here it was
+dry, but Dolores called it a wet day.’
+
+‘Now I call that too bad, Jane, to lay a trap for the poor child in the
+game,’ cried Colonel Mohun, just as if they had still been boy and girl
+together.
+
+‘It was to satisfy my own mind,’ she said, colouring a little. ‘I didn’t
+want any one to act on it. Indeed, I think there will be no occasion.’
+
+‘Besides,’ he added, ‘it is nothing to go upon! No doubt, if it wasn’t
+raining, it was the next thing to it here, and bow was she to recollect
+at this distance of time? I won’t have her caught out in that way!’
+
+‘I am glad she has a champion, Regie,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Here come
+the servants.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. -- A CYPHER AND A TY.
+
+
+
+Dolores was coming down to breakfast the next morning when Colonel
+Mohun’s door opened. He exclaimed, ‘My little Dolly, good morning!’
+stooped down and kissed her.
+
+Then, standing still a moment, and holding her hand, he said--
+
+‘Dolly, it was not you I saw at Darminster station?’
+
+It was a terrible shock. Some one, no doubt, was trying to set him
+against her. And should she betray Constance and her uncle? At any rate,
+almost before she knew what she was saying, ‘No, Uncle Regie,’ was out
+of her mouth, and her conscience was being answered with ‘How do I know
+it was me that he saw? these fur capes are very common.’
+
+‘I thought not,’ he answered, kindly. ‘Look here, Dolly, I want one word
+with you. Did your father ever leave anything in charge with you for Mr.
+Flinders? Did he ever speak to you about him?’
+
+‘Never,’ Dolores truly answered.
+
+‘Because, my dear, though it’s a hard thing to say, and your poor mother
+felt bound to him, he is a slippery fellow--a scamp, in fact, and if
+ever he writes to you here, you had better send the letter straight off
+to me, and I’ll see what’s to be done. He never has, I suppose?’
+
+‘No,’ said Dolores, answering the word here, and foolishly feeling the
+involvement too great, and Constance too much concerned in it for her
+to confess to her uncle what had really happened. Indeed, the first
+falsehood held her to the second; and there was no more time, for Lord
+Rotherwood was coming out of his room further down the passage. And
+after the greetings, as she went downstairs before the two gentlemen,
+she was sure she heard Uncle Regie say, ‘She’s all right.’ What could it
+mean? Was a storm averted? or was it brewing? Could that spiteful Aunt
+Jane and her questions about the weather be at the bottom of it?
+
+The fun that was going on at breakfast seemed a mere roar of folly to
+her, and she had an instinct of nothing but getting away to Constance.
+She soon found that there would be opportunity enough, for the tree was
+to be taken down in a barrow, and all the youthful world was to carry
+down the decorations in baskets, and help to put them on. She dashed off
+among the first to put on her things, and then was disappointed to
+find that first all the pets were to be fed and shown off to Fly, who
+appreciated them far more than she had done--knew how to lay hold of a
+rabbit, nursed the guinea-pigs and puppies in turn, and was rapturous in
+her acceptance of two young guinea-pigs and one puppy.
+
+‘I can keep them up in daddy’s dressing-room while we are at High Court,
+and it will be such fun,’ she said.
+
+‘Will he let you?’ asked Gillian, in some doubt.
+
+‘Oh! daddy will always let me, and so will Griffin--his man, you know,
+only we left him in London because daddy said he would be in your
+butler’s way, but I can’t think why. Griffin would have helped about the
+tree and learnt to make a mummy when we have our party. Louise would not
+let me have them in the nursery, I know, but daddy and Griffin would,
+and I could go and feed them in the morning before breakfast. Griffin
+would get me bran! That is, if we do go to High Court; I wish we were to
+stay on here. There’s nobody to play with at High Court, and grandpapa
+always keeps daddy talking politics, so that I can hardly ever get him!
+Mysie, whatever do you do with your father away in India?’
+
+‘Yes, it is horrid. But then, there’s mamma,’ said Mysie, whispering,
+however, as she saw Dolores near, and feared to hurt her feelings.
+
+‘Ah!’ said Fly, with a tender little shake of her head; ‘’tis worse for
+her to have no mother at all! Is that why she looks so sad?’
+
+‘Cross’ is the word,’ said Wilfred. ‘I can’t think what she is come
+bothering down here for!’
+
+‘Oh! for shame, Wilfred!’ said Fly. ‘You should be sorry for her.’ And
+she went up to Dolores, and by way of doing the kindest thing in the
+world, said--
+
+‘Here’s my new puppy. Is not he a dear? I’ll let you hold him,’ and she
+attempted to deposit the fat, curly, satiny creature in Dolores’s arms,
+which instantly hung down stiff, as she answered, half in fright, ‘I
+hate dogs!’ The puppy fell down with a flop, and began to squeak, while
+the girls, crying, ‘Oh! Dolly, how could you!’ and ‘Poor little pup!’
+all crowded round in pity and indignation, and Wilfred observed, ‘I told
+you so!’
+
+‘You’ll get no change but that out of the Lady of the Rueful
+Countenance,’ said Jasper.
+
+Mysie had for once nothing to say in Dolores’s defence, being equally
+hurt for Fly’s sake and the puppy’s. Dolores found herself virtually
+sent to Coventry, as she accompanied the party across the paddock,
+only just near enough to benefit by their protection from the herd of
+half-grown calves which were there disporting themselves; and, as if to
+make the contrast still more provoking, Fly, who had a natural affinity
+for all animals, insisted on trying to attract them, calling, ‘Sukkey!
+sukkey!’ and hold out bunches of grass, in vain, for they only galloped
+away, and she could only explain how tame those at home were, and how
+she went out farming with daddy whenever he had time, and mother and
+Fraulein would let her out.
+
+The tree meantime came trundling down, a wonderful spectacle, with all
+its gilt balls and fir-cones nodding and dangling wildly, and its other
+embellishments turning upside down. There were greetings of delight at
+Casement Cottage, and Miss Hacket had kissed everybody all round before
+Gillian had time to present the new-comer, and then the good lady was
+shocked at her own presumption, and exclaimed--
+
+‘I beg your ladyship’s pardon! Dear me! I had no notion who it was!’
+
+‘Then please kiss me again now you do know!’ said Fly, holding up her
+funny little face to that very lovable kind one, and they were all soon
+absorbed in the difficulty of getting the tree in at the front door, and
+setting it up in the room that had been prepared for it.
+
+Dolores had hoped to confide her alarms to Constance’s sympathetic
+ear, but her friend, who had written and dreamt of many a magnificently
+titled scion of the peerage, but had never before seen one in her own
+house, had not a minute to spare for her, being far too much engrossed
+in observing the habits of the animal. These certainly were peculiar,
+since she insisted on a waltz round the room with the tabby cat, and
+ascended a step-ladder, merrily spurning Jasper’s protection, to insert
+the circle of tapers on the crowning chandelier. There was nothing left
+for Dolores to do but to sit by in the window-seat, philosophizing on
+the remarkable effects of a handle to one’s name, and feeling cruelly
+neglected.
+
+Suddenly she saw a fly coming up to the gate. There was a general
+peeping and wondering. Then Uncle Reginald and a stranger got out and
+came up to the door. There was a ring--everybody paused and wondered for
+a moment; then the maid tapped at the door and said, ‘Would Miss Mohun
+come and speak to Colonel Mohun a minute in the drawing-room?’
+
+There was a hush of dread throughout the room. ‘Ah!’ sighed Miss Hacket,
+looking at Gillian, and all the elders thought without saying that some
+terrible news of her father had to be told to the poor child. They let
+her go, frightened at the summons, but that idea not occurring to her.
+
+‘There!’ said Uncle Regie, ‘she can set it straight. Don’t be
+frightened, my dear; only tell this gentleman whether that is your
+writing.’
+
+The stranger held a strip so that she could only just see ‘Dolores M.
+Mohun,’ and she unhesitatingly answered ‘Yes’--very much surprised.
+
+‘You are sure?’ said her uncle, in a tone of disappointment that made
+her falter, as she added, ‘I think so.’ At the same time the stranger
+turned the paper round, and she knew it for the cheque that had so
+long resided in her desk, but with dilated eyes, she exclaimed,
+‘But--but--that was for seven pounds!’
+
+‘That,’ said the stranger, ‘then, Miss Mohun, you know this draft?’
+
+‘Only it was for seven,’ repeated Dolores.
+
+‘You mean, I conclude, that it was drawn for seven pounds, and that it
+was still for seven when it left your handy?’
+
+‘Yes,’ muttered Dolores, who was beginning to get very much frightened,
+at she knew not what, and to feel on her guard at all points.
+
+‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, my dear,’ said Uncle Reginald,
+tenderly; ‘nobody suspects you of anything. Only tell us. Did your
+father give you this paper?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘And when did you cash it?’ asked the clerk.
+
+Dolores hung her head. ‘I didn’t,’ she said.
+
+‘But how did it get out of your possession?’ said her uncle. ‘You are
+sure this is your own writing at the back. It could surely not have been
+stolen from her?’ he added to the stranger.
+
+‘That could hardly be,’ said that person. ‘Miss Mohun, you had better
+speak out. To whom did you give this cheque?’
+
+There was a whirl of terror all round about Dolores, a horror of
+bringing herself first, then Uncle Alfred, Constance, and everybody else
+into trouble. She took refuge in uttering not a word.
+
+‘Dolores,’ said her uncle, and his tone was now much more grave and less
+tender, thus increasing her terror; ‘this silence is of no use. Did you
+give this cheque to Mr. Flinders?’
+
+In the silence, the ticks of the clock on the mantel-piece seemed like a
+hammer beating on her ears. Dolores thought of the morning’s flat denial
+of all intercourse with Flinders! Then the word give occurred to her
+as a loophole, and her mind did not embrace all the consequences of
+the denial, she only saw one thing at a time, ‘I didn’t give it,’ she
+answered, almost inaudibly.
+
+‘You did not give it?’ repeated her uncle, getting angry and speaking
+loud. ‘Then how did it get into his hands? Is there no truth in you?’ he
+added, after a pause, which only terrified her more and more. ‘Whom did
+you give it to?’
+
+‘Constance!’ The word came out she hardly knew how, as something which
+at least was true. Colonel Mohun knocked at the door of the room she
+had come from. It was instantly opened, and Miss Hacket began, ‘The poor
+dear! Can I get anything for her, I am sure it is a terrible shock!’
+and as he stood, astonished, Gillian added, ‘Oh! I see it isn’t that. We
+were afraid it was something about Uncle Maurice.’
+
+‘No, my dear, no such thing. Only would Miss Constance Hacket be kind
+enough to come here a minute?’
+
+‘Oh! My apron! My fingers! Excuse me for being such a figure!’ Constance
+ran on, as Colonel Mohun made her come across to the room opposite,
+where she looked about her in amazement. Was the stranger a publisher
+about to make her an offer for the ‘Waif of the Moorland.’ But Dolores’s
+down-cast attitude and set, sullen face forbade the idea.
+
+‘Miss Constance Hacket,’ said the colonel, ‘here is an uncomfortable
+matter in which we want your assistance. Will you kindly answer a
+question or two from Mr. Ellis, the manager of the.... Bank?’
+
+Then the manager politely asked her if she had seen the cheque before.
+
+‘Yes--why--what’s wrong about it? Oh! It is for seventy! Why, Dolores, I
+thought it was only for seven?’
+
+‘It was for seven when you parted with it, then, Miss Hacket,’ said the
+manager; ‘let me ask whether you changed it yourself?’
+
+‘No,’ she said, ‘I sent it to--’ and there she came to a dead pause, in
+alarm.
+
+‘Did you send it to Mr. Alfred Flinders?’ said Mr. Ellis.
+
+‘Yes--oh!’ another little scream, ‘He can’t have done it. He can’t be
+such a villain! Your own uncle, Dolores.’
+
+‘He is no uncle of Dolores Mohun!’ said the colonel. ‘He is only the son
+of her mother’s step-mother by her first marriage.’
+
+‘Oh, Dolores, then you deceived me!’ exclaimed Constance; ‘you told
+me he was your own uncle, or I would never--and oh! my fifteen pounds.
+Where is he?’
+
+‘That, madam,’ said Mr. Ellis, gravely, ‘I hope the police may discover.
+He has quitted Darminster after having cashed this cheque for seventy
+pounds. We have already telegraphed to the police to be on the look out
+for him, but I much fear that it will be too late.’
+
+‘Oh! my fifteen pounds! What shall I do? Oh, Dolores, how could you? I
+shall never trust any one again!’
+
+Perhaps Uncle Reginald felt the same, but he only darted a look upon his
+niece, which she felt in every nerve, though to his eyes she only stood
+hard and stolid. The manager, who found Constance’s torrent of words
+as hard to deal with as Dolores’s silence, asked for pen and ink, and
+begged to take down Miss Hacket’s statement to lay before a magistrate
+in case of Flinders’s apprehension. It was not very easy to keep her
+to the point, especially as her chief interest was in her own fifteen
+pounds, of which Mr. Ellis only would say that she could prosecute the
+man for obtaining money on false pretences, and this she trusted meant
+getting it back again. As to the cheque in question, she told how
+Dolores had entrusted it to her to send to her supposed uncle, Mr.
+Flinders, to whom it had been promised the day they went to Darminster,
+and she was quite ready to depose that when it left her hands, it was
+only for seven pounds.
+
+This was all that the bank manager wanted. He thanked her, told Colonel
+Mohun they should hear from him, and went off in a hurry, both to
+communicate with the police, and to leave the young ladies to be dealt
+with by their friends, who, he might well suppose, would rather that he
+removed himself.
+
+‘Put on your hat, Dolores,’ said Colonel Mohun, gravely; ‘you had better
+come home with me! Miss Hacket, excuse me, but I am afraid I must ask
+whether you have been assisting in a correspondence between my niece and
+this Flinders?’
+
+‘Oh! Colonel Mohun, you will believe me, I was quite deceived. Dolores
+represented that he was her uncle, to whom she was much attached,
+and that Lady Merrifield separated her from him out of mere family
+prejudice.’
+
+‘I am afraid you have paid dearly for your sympathy,’ said the colonel.
+‘It certainly led you far when you assisted your friend to deceive the
+aunt who trusted you with her.’
+
+The movement that was taking place seemed like licence to that roomful,
+burning with curiosity to break out. Mysie was running after Dolores to
+ask if she could do anything for her, but Colonel Mohun called her back
+with ‘Not now, Mysie.’ Miss Hacket came forward with agitated hopes that
+nothing was amiss, and, at sight of her, Constance collapsed quite. ‘Oh,
+Mary,’ she cried out, ‘I have been so deceived! Oh! that man!’ and she
+sunk upon a chair in a violent fit of crying, which alarmed Miss Hacket
+so dreadfully that she looked imploringly up to Colonel Mohun. He
+had meant to have left Miss Constance to explain, but he saw it was
+necessary to relieve the poor elder sister’s mind from worse fears by
+saying, ‘I am afraid it is my niece who deceived her, by leading her
+into forwarding letters and money to a person who calls himself a
+relation. He seems to have been guilty of a forgery, which may have
+unpleasant consequences. Children, I think you had better follow us
+home.’
+
+Dolores had come down by this time, and Colonel Mohun walked home, at
+some paces from her, very much as if he had been guarding a criminal
+under arrest. Poor Uncle Reginald! He had put such absolute trust in the
+two answers she had made him in the morning; and had been so sure of her
+good faith, that when the manager brought word that the cheque had
+been traced to Flinders, who had absconded, he still held that it was
+a barefaced forgery, entirely due to Flinders himself, and that Dolores
+could show that she had no knowledge of it, and he had gone down in the
+fly expecting to come home triumphant, and confute his sister Jane,
+who persisted in being mournfully sagacious. And he was indignant in
+proportion to the confidence he had misplaced; grieved, too, for his
+brother’s sake, and absolutely ashamed.
+
+Once he asked, when they were within the paddock, out of the way of
+meeting any one, ‘Have you nothing to say to me, Dolores?’
+
+It was not said in a manner to draw out an answer, and she made none at
+all.
+
+Again he spoke, as they came near the house:
+
+‘You had better go up to your room at once. I do not know how to think
+of the blow this will be to your father.’
+
+It was so entirely what Dolores was thinking of, that it seemed to
+her barbarous to tell her of it In fact she was stunned, scarcely
+understanding what had happened, and too proud and miserable to ask for
+an explanation, for had not every one turned against her, even Uncle
+Reginald and Constance--and what had happened to that cheque?
+
+She did not see Uncle Reginald turn into the drawing-room, and letting
+himself drop despairingly into an armchair, say, ‘Well, Jane, you were
+right, more’s the pity!’
+
+‘She really gave him the cheque!’
+
+‘Yes, but at least it was only for seven. The rascal himself must have
+altered it into seventy. She and the other girl both agree as to that.
+There’s been a clandestine correspondence going on with that scamp
+ever since she has been here, under cover to that precious friend of
+hers--that Hacket girl.’
+
+‘Ah! you warned me, Jenny,’ said Lady Merrifield ‘But I’m quite sure
+Miss Hacket knew nothing of it.’
+
+‘I don’t suppose she did. She seemed struck all of a heap. Any way
+they’ve quarrelled now; the other one has turned King’s evidence--has
+lost some money too, and says Dolores deceived her. She’s deceived every
+one all round, that’s the fact. Why she told me two flat lies this very
+morning--lies--there’s no other name for it. What will you do with her,
+Lily?’
+
+‘I don’t know,’ said Lady Merrifield, utterly shocked, and recollecting,
+but not mentioning, the falsehood told to her about the note. Lord
+Rotherwood said, ‘Poor child,’ and Colonel Mohun groaned, ‘Poor
+Maurice.’
+
+‘Then she did go to Darminster?’ said Miss Mohun.
+
+‘Yes; that came out from this Miss Constance, who seems to have been
+properly taken in about some publishing trash. Serve her right! But
+it seems Dolores beguiled her with stories about her dear uncle in
+distress. We left her nearly in hysterics, and I told the children to
+come away.’
+
+‘What does Dolores say?’ asked Jane.
+
+‘Nothing! I could not get a word out of her after the first surprise at
+the alteration of the cheque. Not a word nor a tear. She is as hard--as
+hard as a bit of stone.’
+
+‘Really,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘I can’t help thinking there’s a good
+deal of excuse for her.’
+
+‘What? That poor Maurice’s wife was half a heathen, and afterwards the
+girl was left to chance?’ said Colonel Mohun. ‘I see no other. And you,
+Lily, are the last person I should expect to excuse untruth.’
+
+‘I did not mean to do that, Regie; but you all say that poor Mary was
+fond of this man and helped him.’
+
+‘That she did!’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘and very much against the grain
+it went with Maurice.’
+
+‘Then don’t you see that this poor child, who probably never had the
+matter explained to her, may have felt it a great hardship to be cut off
+from the man her mother taught her to care for; and that may have led
+her into concealments?’
+
+‘Well!’ said Colonel Mohun, ‘at that rate, at least one may be thankful
+never to have married.’
+
+‘One--or two, Regie?’ said Jane, as they all laughed at his sally. ‘I
+think I had better go up and see whether I can get anything out of
+the child. Do you mean to have her down to dinner, Lily,’ she added,
+glancing at the clock.
+
+‘Oh yes, certainly. I don’t want to put her to disgrace before all the
+children and servants--that is, if she is not crying herself out of
+condition to appear, poor child.’
+
+‘Not she,’ said Uncle Reginald.
+
+On opening the door, the children were all discovered in the hall, in
+anxious curiosity, not venturing in uncalled, but very much puzzled.
+
+Gillian came forward and said, ‘Mamma, may we know what is the matter?’
+
+‘I hardly understand it myself yet, my dear, only that Dolores and
+Constance Hacket have let themselves be taken in by a sort of relation
+of Dolores’s mother, and Uncle Maurice has lost a good deal of money
+through it. It would not have happened if there had been fair and
+upright dealing towards me; but we do not know the rights of it, and you
+had better take no notice of it to her.’
+
+‘I thought,’ said Valetta, sagaciously, ‘no good could come of running
+after that stupid Miss Constance.’
+
+‘Who can’t pull a cracker, and screams at a daddy long-legs,’ added
+Fergus.
+
+‘But, mamma, what shall we do?’ said Gillian. ‘I came away because Uncle
+Regie told us, and Constance was crying so terribly; but what is poor
+Miss Hacket to do? There is the tree only half dressed, and all the
+girls coming to-night, unless she puts them off.’
+
+‘Yes, you had better go down alone as soon as dinner is over, and see
+what she would like,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘We must not leave her in
+the lurch, as if we cast her off, though I am afraid Constance has been
+very foolish in this matter. Oh, Gillian, I wish we could have made
+Dolores happier amongst us, and then this would not have happened.’
+
+‘She would never let us, mamma,’ said Gillian.
+
+But Mysie, coming up close to her mother as they all went up the broad
+staircase to prepare for the midday meal, confessed in a grave little
+voice, ‘Mamma, I think I have sometimes been cross to Dolly-more lately,
+because it has been so very tiresome.’
+
+Lady Merrifield drew the little girl into her own room, stooped down,
+and kissed her, saying, ‘My dear child, these things need a great deal
+of patience. You will have to be doubly kind and forbearing now, for she
+must be very unhappy, and perhaps not like to show it. You might say
+a little prayer for her, that God will help us to be kind to her, and
+soften her heart.’
+
+‘Oh yes, mamma; and, please, will you set it down for me?’
+
+‘Yes, my dear, and for myself too. You shall have it before bed-time.’
+
+Aunt Jane had followed Dolores to her own room the girl, who was sitting
+on her bed, dazed, regretted that she had not bolted her door, as her
+aunt entered with the words, ‘Oh, Dolores, I am very sorry I could not
+have thought you would so have abused the confidence that was placed in
+you.’
+
+To this Dolores did not answer. To her mind she was the person ill-used
+by the prohibition of correspondence, but she could not say so. Every
+one was falling on her; but Aunt Jane’s questions could not well help
+being answered.
+
+‘What will your father think of if?’
+
+‘He never forbade me to write to Uncle Alfred’ said Dolores.
+
+‘Because he never thought of your doing such a thing. Did he give you
+this cheque?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘For yourself?’
+
+‘N-n-o. But it was the same.’
+
+‘What do you mean by that?’
+
+‘It was to pay a man--a man’s that’s dead.’
+
+‘That may be; but what right did that give you to spend the money
+otherwise? Who was the man?’
+
+‘Professor Muhlwasser, for some books of plates.’
+
+‘How do you know he is dead! Who told you so? Eh! Was it Flinders? Ah!
+you see what comes of trusting to an unprincipled man like that. If you
+had only been open and straightforward with Aunt Lily, or with any of
+us, you would have been saved from this tissue of falsehood; forfeiting
+your Uncle Reginald’s good opinion, and enabling Flinders to do your
+father this great injury.’ She paused, and, as Dolores made no answer,
+she went on again--‘Indeed, there is no saying what you have not brought
+on yourself by your deceit and disobedience. If Flinders is apprehended,
+you will have to appear against him in court, and publicly avow that you
+gave away what your father trusted to you.’
+
+Dolores gave a little moan and start, and her aunt, perceiving that she
+had touched an apparently vulnerable spot, proceeded--‘The only thing
+left for you to do is to tell the whole story frankly and honestly. I
+don’t say so only for the sake of showing Aunt Lily that you are sorry
+for having abused her confidence. I wish I could think that you
+are; but, unless we know all, we cannot shield you from any further
+consequences, and that of course we should wish to do, for your father’s
+sake.’
+
+Dolores did not feel drawn to confession, but she knew that when Aunt
+Jane once set herself to ask questions, there was no use in trying to
+conceal anything. So she made answers, chiefly ‘Yes’ or No,’ and her
+aunt, by severe and diligent pumping, had extracted bit by bit what
+it was most essential should be known, before the gong summoned them.
+Dolores would rather have been a solitary prisoner, able to chafe
+against oppression, than have been obliged to come down and confront
+everybody; but she crept into the place left for her between Mysie and
+Wilfred. She had very little appetite, and never found out how Mysie
+was fulfilling her resolution of kindness by baulking Wilfred of sundry
+attempts to tease; by substituting her own kissing-crust for Dolly’s
+more unpoetical piece of bread; and offering to exchange her delicious
+strawberry-jam tartlet for the black-currant one at which her cousin was
+looking with reluctant eyes.
+
+Mysie and Valetta were grievously exercised about their chances of
+returning to the G.F.S. Tree. Indeed Gillian went the length of telling
+them that Fly was behaving far better in her disappointment as to the
+Butterfly’s Ball than they were as to this ‘old second-hand tree.’ Fly
+laughed and observed, ‘Dear me, things one would like are always being
+stopped. If one was to mind every time, how horrid it would be! And
+there’s always something to make up!’
+
+Then it occurred to Gillian, though not to her younger sisters, that
+Lady Phyllis Devereux lived in general a much less indulged, and more
+frequently disappointed, life than did herself and her sisters.
+
+However, there was great delight at that dinner-table. Jasper had ridden
+to get the letters of the second post, and Lord Rotherwood had his hands
+and his head full of them when he came in to luncheon--there being what
+Lady Merrifield called a respectable dinner in view. In the first place.
+Lord Ivinghoe was getting on very well, and was up, sitting by the fire,
+playing patience. Nobody was catching the measles, and quarantine
+would be over on the 9th of January. Secondly, ‘Fly, shall you be very
+broken-hearted if I tell you.’
+
+‘Oh, daddy, you wouldn’t look like that if it was anything very bad!
+Lion isn’t dead?’
+
+‘No; but I grieve to say your unnatural grand-parents don’t want you!
+Grandmamma is nervous about having you without mamma. What did we do
+last time we were there, Fly?’
+
+‘Don’t you remember, daddy? they said there was nothing for me to ride
+to the meet, and you and Griffin put the side-saddle on Crazy Kate, and
+we went out with the hounds, and I’ve got the brush up in my room!’
+
+‘I don’t wonder grandmamma is nervous,’ observed Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘Will you be nervous, Lily,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘if this same flyaway
+mortal is left on your hands till the 9th?’
+
+Dinner, manners, silence before company, and all, could not repress a
+general scream of ecstacy, which called forth the reply. ‘I should think
+you and her mother were the people to be nervous.
+
+‘Oh! my lady has been duly instructed in Merrifield perfections, and
+esteems you a model mother.’
+
+The children’s nods and smiles said ‘Hear, hear!’
+
+‘Well, you’ve got it all in her own letter,’ continued Lord Rotherwood.
+‘You see, they’ve got a caucus at High Court, and a dinner, and I must
+go up there on Monday; but if you’ll keep this dangerous Fly--’
+
+‘I can answer for the pleasure it will give,’
+
+‘Well then, I’ll come back for her by the 9th, and you’ve Victoria’s
+letter, haven’t you?’
+
+‘Yes, it is very kind of her.’
+
+‘Then I shall expect you to be ready to start with me for the
+Butterfly’s Ball. Eh, young ladies, what will you come out as?’
+
+‘Oh daddy, daddy, is it? Has mamma asked them? Oh! it is more delicious
+than anything ever was. Mysie, Mysie, what will you be?’
+
+‘The sly little dormouse crept out of his hole,’ quoted Mysie, in a very
+low, happy voice.
+
+‘And I will be a jolly old frog,’ shouted Fergus, finding the ordinance
+of silence broken and making the most of it, on the presumption that
+the whole family were invited. However, the tone, rather than the
+uncomprehended words of his mother’s answer, ‘Nobody asked you, sir,’
+she said, reduced him to silence, and it became understood, through
+Fly’s inquiries, that the invitation included Lady Merrifield must make
+her acceptance doubtful. And besides, the question which three were
+to go was the unspoken drawback to full bliss, and yet the delight was
+exceedingly great in the prospect, great enough to make the contrast of
+gloom in poor Dolores’s spirit all the darker, as she sat, left out of
+everything, and she could not now say, with absolute injustice, though
+she still clung to the belief that there was more misfortune than fault
+in her disgrace.
+
+She crept away, shivering with unhappiness, to the schoolroom, while
+the others frisked off discussing the wonderful Butterfly’s Ball. Lady
+Merrifield looked in on her, and she hardened herself to endure either
+another probing or fresh reproaches, but all she heard was, ‘My dear, I
+cannot talk over this sad affair now, as I have to go out. But, if you
+can, I think you had better write to your father about it, and let him
+understand exactly how it happened. Or, if you had rather write than
+speak in explaining it to me, you can do so, and we can consider
+tomorrow what is to be done about it.’
+
+Then she went out with her brother and cousin to drive to some
+Industrial schools which Lord Rotherwood wanted to see.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. -- THE BUTTERFLY’S BALL.
+
+
+
+Miss Mohun went to the Casement Cottages with Gillian to see what the
+elder Miss Hacket might wish and whether they could be of use to her;
+the young people being left to exercise themselves within call in case
+the Tree was to be continued.
+
+This proved to be an act of great kindness, for poor Mary Hacket was
+suffering all the distress of an upright and honourable woman at her
+sister’s abuse of confidence; and had felt as if Colonel Mohun’s summons
+to his nieces was the close of all intimacy with such an unworthy
+household. Moreover, the evenings entertainment could not be given up
+and Gillian was despatched to summon the eager assistants, while Aunt
+Jane repeated her assurances that Lady Merrifield perfectly understood
+Miss Hacket’s ignorance of the doings in Constance’s room--listening
+patiently even when the tender-hearted woman began to excuse her sister
+for having accepted Dolores’s lamentations at being cut off from her
+so-called uncle. ‘Dear Connie is so romantic, and so easily touched,’
+she said, ‘though, of course, it was very wrong of her to suppose that
+Lady Merrifield could do anything harsh or unkind. She is in great grief
+now, poor darling, she feels so bitterly that her friend led her into it
+by deceiving her about the relationship and character.’
+
+This, Aunt Jane did not think the worst part of the affair, and she said
+that the girl had been brought up to call the man Uncle Alfred, and very
+possibly did not understand that he was only so by courtesy, nor that he
+was so utterly untrustworthy.
+
+‘I thought so,’ said Mary Hacket. ‘I told Connie that such a child could
+not possibly have been a willing party to his fraud--for fraud, I fear,
+it was--Miss Mohun. Do you think there is any hope of her recovering the
+sum she advanced.’
+
+‘I am afraid there is not, even if the wretched man is apprehended.’
+
+‘Ah! if she had only told me what she wanted it for!’
+
+‘I hope it was all her own.’
+
+‘Oh, Miss Mohun, no doubt you know that two sisters living together must
+accommodate one another a little, and Connie’s dress expenses, at her
+age, are necessarily more than mine. But here come the dear children,
+and we ought to dismiss all painful subjects, though I declare I am so
+nervous I hardly know what I am about.’
+
+However, by Miss Mohun’s help, the good lady rose to the occasion, and
+when once busy, the trouble was thrown off, so that no guests would have
+detected how unhappy she had been in the forenoon. Constance soon
+came down, and confided to Gillian a parcel directed to Miss D. Mohun,
+containing all the notes written to her, and all the books lent to her,
+by the false friend whom she had cast off, after which she threw herself
+into the interests of the present.
+
+The London ornaments, and the residue of the gifts and bonbons, made the
+Christmas-tree a most memorable one to the G.F.S. mind.
+
+As to Fly, she fraternized to a great extent with a very small maid,
+in a very long, brown dress, and very thick boots, who did not taste
+a single bonbon, and being asked whether she understood that they were
+good to eat, replied that she was keeping them for ‘our Bertie and
+Minnie;’ and, on encouragement, launched into such a description of her
+charges--the blacksmith’s small children--that Lady Phyllis went back,
+not without regrets that she could not be a little nurse who had done
+with school at twelve years old, and spent her days at the back of a
+perambulator.
+
+‘Oh, daddy,’ she said, ‘I do wish you had come down; it was such lovely
+fun--the best tree I ever saw. Why wouldn’t you come?’
+
+‘If thirty odd years should pass over that little head of yours, my Lady
+Fly, and you should then meet with Mysie and Val, maybe you will then
+learn the reason why.’
+
+‘We will recollect that in thirty years’ time.’
+
+‘When our children go to a Christmas-tree.’
+
+‘And we sit over the fire instead.’
+
+‘Oh! but should we ever not care for a dear, delightful Christmas-tree?’
+
+‘If we had each other instead.’
+
+‘Then we would all go still together!’
+
+‘And tell our little boys and girls all about this one, and the
+Butterfly’s Ball!’
+
+‘Perhaps our husbands would want us, and not let us go.’
+
+‘Oh! I don’t want a husband. He’d be in the way. We’d send him off to
+India or somewhere, like Aunt Lily’s.’
+
+‘Don’t, Fly; it is not at all nice to have papa away.’
+
+‘Oh yes, it would be ten hundred times better if he were at home.’
+
+Such were the mingled sentiments of the triad, as they went upstairs to
+bed, linked together in their curious fashion.
+
+Some time later, a bedroom discussion of affairs was held by Lady
+Merrifield and Miss Mohun, who had not had a moment alone together all
+day, to converse upon the two versions of the disaster which the latter
+had extracted from Dolores and Constance, and which fairly agreed,
+though Constance had been by far the most voluble, and somewhat
+ungenerously violent against her former friend, at least so Lady
+Merrifield remarked.
+
+‘You should take into account the authoress’s disappointed vanity.’
+
+‘Yes, poor thing! How he must have nattered her!’
+
+‘Besides, there is the loss of the money, which, I fear, falls as
+seriously on good Miss Hacket as on the goose herself.’
+
+‘Does it, indeed? That must not be. How much is it?’
+
+‘Fifteen pounds; and that foolish Constance fancies that poor Dolores
+assisted in duping her. I really had to defend the girl; though I am
+just as angry myself when I watch her adamantine sullenness.’
+
+‘I am the person to be angry with for having allowed the intimacy, in
+spite of your warnings, Jenny.’
+
+‘You were too innocent to know what girls are made of. Oh yes, you
+are very welcome to have six of your own, but you might have six dozen
+without knowing what a girl brought up at a second-rate boarding-school
+is capable of, or what it is to have had no development of conscience.
+What shall you do? send her to school?’
+
+‘After that recommendation of yours?’
+
+‘I didn’t propose a second-rate boarding-school, ma’am. There’s a High
+School starting after the holidays at Rockstone. Let me have her, and
+send her there.’
+
+‘Ada would not like it.’
+
+‘Never mind Ada, I’ll settle her. I would keep Dolly well up to her
+lessons, and prevent these friendships.’
+
+‘I suppose you would manage her better than I have been able to do,’
+said Lady Merrifield, reluctantly. ‘Yet I should like to try again; I
+don’t want to let her go. Is it the old story of duty and love, Jane?
+Have I failed again through negligence and ignorance, and deceived
+myself by calling weakness and blindness love?’
+
+‘You don’t fail with your own, Lily. Rotherwood runs about admiring
+them, and saying he never saw a better union of freedom and obedience.
+It was really a treat to see Gillian’s ways tonight; she had so much
+consideration, and managed her sisters so well.’
+
+‘Ah, but there’s their father! I do so dread spoiling them for him
+before he comes home; but then he is a present influence with us all the
+time.’
+
+‘They would all clap their hands if I carried Dolly off.’
+
+‘Yes, and that is one reason I don’t want to give her up; it seems so
+sad to send Maurice’s child away leaving such an impression. One thing I
+am thankful for, that it will be all over before grandmamma and Bessie
+Merrifield come.’
+
+At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a small figure
+appeared in a scarlet robe, bare feet, and dishevelled hair.
+
+‘Mysie, dear child! What’s the matter? who is ill?’
+
+‘Oh, please come, mamma, Dolly is choking and crying in such a dreadful
+way, and I can’t stop her.’
+
+‘I give up, Lily. This is mother-work,’ said Miss Mohun.
+
+Hurrying upstairs, Lady Merrifield found very distressing sounds issuing
+from Dolores’s room; sobs, not loud, but almost strangled into a perfect
+agony of choking down by the resolute instinct, for it was scarcely
+will.
+
+‘My dear, my dear, don’t stop it!’ she exclaimed, lifting up the girl in
+her arms. ‘Let it out; cry freely; never mind. She will be better soon,
+Mysie dear. Only get me a glass of water, and find a fresh handkerchief.
+There, there, that’s right!’ as Dolores let herself lean on the kind
+breast, and conscious that the utmost effects of the disturbance had
+come, allowed her long-drawn sobs to come freely, and moaned as they
+shook her whole frame, though without screaming. Her aunt propped her up
+on her own bosom, parted back her hair, kissed her, and saying she was
+getting better, sent Mysie back to her bed. The first words that were
+gasped out between the rending sobs were, ‘Oh! is my--he--to be tried?’
+
+‘Most likely not, my dear. He has had full time to get away, and I hope
+it is so.’
+
+‘But wasn’t he there? Haven’t they got him? Weren’t they asking me about
+him, and saying I must be tried for stealing father’s cheque?’
+
+‘You were dreaming, my poor child. They have not taken him, and I am
+quite sure you will not be tried anyway.’
+
+‘They said--Aunt Jane and Uncle Reginald and all, and ‘that dreadful man
+that came--’
+
+‘Perhaps they said you might have to be examined, but only if he is
+apprehended, and I fully expect that he is out of reach, so that you
+need not frighten yourself about that, my dear.’
+
+‘Oh, don’t go!’ cried Dolores, as her aunt stirred.
+
+‘No, I’m not going. I was only reaching some water for you. Let me
+sponge your face.’
+
+To this Dolores submitted gratefully, and then sighed, as if under heavy
+oppression, ‘And did he really do it?’
+
+‘I am afraid he must have done so.’
+
+‘I never thought it. Mother always helped him.’
+
+‘Yes, my dear, that made it very hard for you to know what was right to
+do, and this is a most terrible shock for you,’ said her aunt, feeling
+unable to utter another reproach just then to one who had been so loaded
+with blame, and she was touched the more when Dolores moaned, ‘Mother
+would have cared so much.’
+
+She answered with a kiss, was glad to find her hand still held, and
+forgot that it was past eleven o’clock.
+
+‘Please, will it quite ruin father?’ asked Dolores, who had not outgrown
+childish confusion about large sums of money.
+
+‘Not exactly, my dear. It was more than he had in the bank, and Uncle
+Regie thinks the bankers will undertake part of the loss if he will let
+them. It is more inconvenient than ruinous.’
+
+‘Ah!’ There was a faintness and oppression in the sound which made
+Lady Merrifield think the girl ought not to be left, and before long,
+sickness came on. Nurse Halfpenny had to be called up, and it was one
+o’clock before there was a quiet, comfortable sleep, which satisfied the
+aunt and nurse that it was safe to repair to their own beds again.
+
+The dreary, undefined self-reproach and vague alarms, intensified by the
+sullen, reserved temper, and culminating in such a shock, alienating the
+only persons she cared for, and filling her with terror for the future,
+could not but have a physical effect, and Dolores was found on the
+morrow with a bad head-ache, and altogether in a state to be kept in
+bed, with a fire in her room.
+
+Gillian and Mysie were much impressed by the intelligence of their
+cousin’s illness when they came to their mother’s room on the way to
+breakfast, and Mysie turned to her sister, saying, ‘There Gill, you
+see she did care, though she didn’t cry like us. Being ill is more than
+crying.’
+
+‘Well,’ said Gillian, ‘it is a good deal more than such things as you
+and Val cry for, Mysie.’
+
+‘It was a trial such as you don’t understand, my dears,’ said Lady
+Merrifield. ‘I don’t, of course, excuse much that she did, but she had
+been used to see her mother make every exertion to help the man.’
+
+‘That does make a difference,’ said Gillian, ‘but she shouldn’t have
+taken her father’s money. And wasn’t it dreadful of Constance to smuggle
+her letters? I’m quite glad Constance gets part of the punishment.’
+
+‘Certainly, that might be just, Gillian, but unfortunately the loss
+falls infinitely more heavily upon Miss Hacket, who cannot afford the
+loss at all.’
+
+‘Oh dear!’ cried Mysie.
+
+‘I’m very sorry,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘And, my dear girls, in all honour and honesty, we must make it up to
+her.’
+
+‘Can’t we save it out of our allowance?’ said Mysie.
+
+‘Sixpence a month from you, a shilling perhaps from Gill, how long would
+that take? No, my dear girls, I am going to put you to a heavy trial.’
+
+‘Oh, mamma, don’t!’ cried Gillian, seeing what she was driving at.
+‘Don’t give up the Butterfly’s Ball.’
+
+‘Oh, don’t!’ implored Mysie, tears starting in her eyes. ‘We never saw a
+costume ball, and Fly wishes it so.’
+
+‘And I thought you had promised,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘Cousin Rotherwood assumes that I did; but I did not really accept.
+I told him I could not tell, for you know your Grandmamma Merrifield
+talked of coming here, and I cannot put her off. And now I see that it
+must be given up.’
+
+‘It need only be calico!’ sighed Gillian, sticking pins in and out of
+the pincushion.
+
+‘Fancy dresses even in calico are very expensive. Besides, I could not
+go to a place like Rotherwood without at least two new dresses, and it
+is not right to put papa to more expense.’
+
+‘Oh, mamma! couldn’t you? You always do look nicer than any one,’ said
+Mysie.
+
+‘My dear, I am afraid nothing I have at present would be suitable for
+a General’s wife at Lady Rotherwood’s party, and we must think of what
+would be fitting both towards our hostess and papa. Don’t you see?’
+
+‘Ah! your velvet dress!’ sighed Gillian.
+
+‘My poor old faithful state apparel,’ smiled Lady Merrifield. ‘Poor
+Gill, you did not think again to have to mourn for it, but I don’t know
+that even that could have been sufficiently revivified, though it was my
+cheval de bataille for so many years.
+
+For Lady Merrifield’s black velvet of many years’ usefulness, had been
+put on for her p.p.c. party at Belfast, when Gillian, in abetting Jasper
+in roasting chestnuts over a paraffin-lamp, had set herself and the
+tablecloth on fire, and had been extinguished with such damages as
+singed hair, a scar on Jasper’s hands, and the destruction of her
+mother’s ‘front breadth.’ There had been such relief and thankfulness at
+its being no worse that the ‘state apparel’ had not been much mourned,
+especially as the remains made a charming pelisse for Primrose; and in
+the retirement of Silverton, it had not been missed till the present
+occasion.
+
+‘Do gowns cost so very much?’ said Mysie.
+
+‘Indeed they do, my poor Mouse. The lamented cost more than twenty
+pounds. I had been thinking whether I could afford the requisite
+garments--not quite so costly--and thought I might get them for about
+sixteen, with contrivance; but you see I feel it my fault that I let
+Dolores go and lead Constance to get cheated, and I cannot take the
+money out of what papa gives for household expenses and your education,
+so it must come out of my own personal allowance. Don’t you see?’
+
+‘Ye--es,’ said Gillian, apparently intent on getting a big, black-headed
+pin repeatedly into the same hole, while Mysie was trying with all her
+might not to cry.
+
+‘You are thinking it is very hard that you should suffer for Dolly’s
+faults. Perhaps it is, but such things may often happen to you, my
+dears. Christians bear them well for love’s sake, you know.’
+
+‘And it is a little my fault,’ said Gillian, thoughtfully; ‘for it was I
+that let the chestnut fall into the lamp.’
+
+‘I--I don’t think I should have minded so much,’ said Mysie, almost
+crying, ‘if we had done it our own selves--and Fly too--for some very
+poor woman in the snow.’
+
+‘I know that very well, Mysie, and this is a much harder trial, as you
+don’t get the honour and glory of it; and, besides, you will have to
+take care to say not a word of this reason to Fly or Valetta, or any one
+else.’
+
+‘Val will be awfully disappointed,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘Poor Val! But I should not have taken her anyway, so that matters
+the less. I should have taken Jasper, for that would have been more
+convenient than so many girls. In fact, I did not mean anybody to have
+heard of it till I had made up my mind, so that there would have been no
+disappointment; but that naughty Cousin Rotherwood could not keep it to
+himself; and so, my poor maidens, you have to bear it with a good grace,
+and to be treated as my confidential friends.’
+
+Mysie smiled and kissed her mother--Gillian cleared somewhat, but
+observing, ‘I only wish it wasn’t clothes;’ tried to dismiss the subject
+as the gong began to sound, but Mysie caught her mother’s dress, and
+said, ‘Mayn’t I tell Fly, for a great secret?’
+
+‘No, my dear, certainly not. Fly is a dear little girl, but we don’t
+know how she can keep secrets, and it would never do to let the
+Rotherwoods know; papa and Uncle William would be exceedingly annoyed.
+And only think of Miss Hacket’s feelings if it came round. It will be
+hard enough to get her to take it now.’
+
+‘Perhaps she won’t,’ flashed into the minds of both girls; but Mysie
+said entreatingly, ‘One moment more, mamma, please! What can I say to
+Fly that will be the truth?’
+
+‘Say that I find we cannot go, and that I had never promised,’ said Lady
+Merrifield. ‘I trust you, my dears.’
+
+And as she opened the door to hurry down to prayers, the two sisters
+felt the words very precious and inspiriting. Mysie lingered on the step
+and bravely asked Gillian whether her eyes looked like crying--
+
+‘No, only a little twinkly,’ answered the elder sister; ‘they will be
+all right after prayers if you don’t rub them.’
+
+‘No, I won’t, said Mysie; “I’ll try to mean ‘Thy will be done.’ For I
+suppose it is His will, though it is mamma’s.”
+
+‘I’m glad you thought of that, Mysie,’ said Gillian; ‘you see it is
+mamma’s goodness.’ And Gillian added to herself, “dear little Mysie
+too. If it had not been for her, I believe I should have ‘grizzled’ all
+prayer-time, and now I hope I shall attend instead.”
+
+When everybody rose up from their knees, Lady Merrifield was glad to see
+two fairly cheerful faces. She tried to lessen the responsibility of the
+confidants, and to get the matter settled by telling Lord Rotherwood
+at once and publicly that she had thought his kind invitation over,
+and that she found she must not accept it. Perhaps she warily took the
+moment after she had seen the postman coming up the drive, for he had
+only time to say, ‘Now, that’s too bad, Lily, you don’t mean it,’ and
+she to answer, ‘Yes, in sad earnest, I do,’ before the letters came in,
+and the attention of the elders was taken off by the distribution.
+
+But Valetta whispered to Gillian, ‘Not going; oh why?’
+
+‘No; never mind, you wouldn’t have gone, anyway--hush--’ said Gillian,
+beginning, it may be, a little sharply, but then becoming dismayed as
+Valetta, perhaps a little unhinged by the late pleasures, burst forth
+into such a fit of crying as made everybody look up, and her mother tell
+her to go away if she could not behave better. Gillian, understanding
+a sign of the head as permission, led her away, hearing Lord Rotherwood
+observe,--
+
+‘There, you cruel party!’ before again becoming absorbed in his letter.
+
+‘Oh dear!’ sighed Fly, turning to Mysie as they rose from table, ‘I am
+so sorry! It would have been so nice; and I thought we were safe, as
+mamma had written herself!’
+
+‘Ah! but my mamma hadn’t accepted,’ said Mysie.
+
+Phyllis seemed to take this as final, and sighed, but Mysie presently
+exclaimed, ‘I say! can’t we all play at Butterfly’s Ball in the hall
+after lessons?’
+
+‘Lessons?’ said Fly; ‘but it’s holiday-time?’
+
+‘Mamma always makes us do a sort of little lesson, even in the holidays,
+as she says we get naughty. But I suppose you need not; and perhaps she
+will not make us now you are here.’
+
+Colonel Mohun and Lord Rotherwood were going to Darminster to see what
+was the state of the investigation about Mr. Flinders. They set out
+directly after breakfast, and after the feeding of the pets, where
+Valetta joined them, much consoled by the prospect of the extemporary
+Butterfly’s Ball at home, Lady Phyllis, with her usual ready
+adaptability, repaired with the others to the schoolroom, where the
+Psalms and Lessons were read, and a small amount of French reading in
+turn from ‘En Quarantaine’ followed, with accompaniment of needlework or
+drawing, after which the children were free.
+
+Aunt Jane was going home to her Sunday school and the Rockstone
+festivities. She came down for her final talk with her sister just in
+time to perceive the folding up of three five-pound notes.
+
+‘Lily,’ she said, with instant perception, ‘I could beat myself for what
+I told you yesterday.’
+
+Lady Merrifield laughed. ‘The girls are very good about it!’ she said.
+‘Now you have found it out, see whether that note will make Miss Hacket
+swallow it.’
+
+‘Can’t be better! But oh. Lily, it is disgusting! Could not I rig up
+something fanciful for the children?’
+
+‘That’s not so much the point. ‘The General’s lady,’ as Mrs. Halfpenny
+would say, is bound not to look like ‘ane scrub,’ as she would be
+unwelcome to Victoria, and what would be William’s feelings? I could
+hardly have accomplished it even with this, and the catastrophe settles
+the matter.’
+
+‘You could not get into my black satin?’
+
+‘No, I thank you, my dear little Brownie,’ said Lady Merrifield,
+elongating herself like a girl measuring heights.
+
+‘Ada has a larger assortment, as well as a taller person,’ continued
+Miss Jane, ‘but then they are rather ‘henspeckle,’ and they have all
+made their first appearance at Rotherwood.’
+
+‘No, no, thank you, my dear, Jasper would not like the notion--even if
+there was not more of me than of Ada. I have no doubt it is much better
+for us.’
+
+‘Should you have liked it, Lily?’
+
+‘For once in a way. For Rotherwood’s sake, dear old fellow. Yes, I
+should.’
+
+‘Ah, well! You are a bit of a grande dame yourself. Ada enjoys it, too,
+or I don’t think I ever should go there.’
+
+‘Surely Victoria behaves well to you?’
+
+‘Far be it from me to say she is not exemplary in her perfect civility
+to all her husband’s relations. Ada thinks her charming; but oh. Lily,
+you’ve never found out what it is to be a little person in a great
+person’s house, and to feel one’s self scrupulously made one of the
+family, because her husband is so much attached to all of them. There’s
+nothing spontaneous about it! I dare say you would get on better, though
+You are not a country-town old maid; you would have an air of the world
+and of distinction even if you went in your old grey poplin.’
+
+‘Well, I thought better of my lady.’
+
+‘You ought not! She makes great efforts, I am sure, and is a pattern of
+graciousness and cordiality--only that’s just what riles one, when one
+knows one is just as well born, and all the rest of it. And then I’m
+provided with the clever men, and the philanthropical folk to talk to. I
+know it’s a great compliment, and they are very nice, but I’d ten times
+rather take my chance among them. However, now I’ve made the grapes sour
+for you, what do you think about Dolores? Will you send her to us?’
+
+‘Not immediately, at any rate, dear Jane. It is very kind in you to wish
+to take her off our hands, but I do want to try her a little longer. I
+thought she seemed to be softening last night.’
+
+‘She was as hard as ever when I went in to wish her good-bye.’
+
+‘I thought she had too much headache for conversation when I went in
+last; I think this is a regular upset from unhappiness and reserve.’
+
+‘Alias temper and deceitfulness.’
+
+‘Something of both. You know the body often suffers when things are not
+thrown out in a wholesome explosion at once, but go simmering on; and I
+mean to let this poor child alone till she is well.’
+
+‘Ah! here comes the pony-carriage. Well, Lily, send her to me if you
+repent.’
+
+The sisters came out to find the Butterfly’s Ball in full action. Fly
+had become a Butterfly by the help of a battered pair of fairy wings,
+stretched on wire, which were part of the theatrical stock. ‘The shy
+little Dormouse’ was creeping about on all fours under a fur jacket,
+with a dilapidated boa for a long tail, but her ‘blind brother the Mole’
+had escaped from her, and had been transformed into the Frog, by means
+of a spotted handkerchief over his back, and tremendous leap-frog jumps.
+Primrose, in another pair of fairy wings, was personating the Dragon-fly
+and all his relations, ‘green, orange, and blue.’ Valetta, in perfect
+content with the present, with a queer pair of ears, and a tail made
+of an old brush, sat up and nibbled as Squirrel. The Grasshopper was
+performing antics which made him not easily distinguishable from
+the Frog, and the Spider was actually descending by a rope from the
+balusters, while his mother, standing somewhat aghast, breathed a hope
+that ‘poor Harlequin’s’ fall was not part of the programme. But she
+did not interfere, having trust in the gymnastics that were studied
+at school by Jasper, who had been beguiled into the game by Fly’s
+fascinations.
+
+‘A far more realistic performance than the Rotherwood Butterfly’s Ball
+is likely to be,’ said Aunt Jane, aside, as the various guests came up
+for her departing kiss. ‘And much more entertaining, if they could only
+think so. Where’s Gillian?’
+
+Gillian appeared on the stairs in her own person at the moment. She
+said Mrs. Halfpenny had called her, and told her that ‘Miss Dollars’ was
+crying, and that she did not think the child ought to be left alone
+long to fret herself, but Saturday morning needments called away nurse
+herself, so she had ordered in Miss Gillian as her substitute. Gillian
+was reading to her, and had only come away to make her farewells to Aunt
+Jane.
+
+‘That is right, my dear,’ said her mother; ‘I will come and sit with her
+after luncheon.’
+
+For the whole youthful family were to turn out to superintend the
+replantation of the much-enduring fir, which, it was hoped, might
+survive for many another Christmas.
+
+However, Lady Merrifield could not keep her promise, for a whole party
+of visitors arrived just after the children’s dinner was over.
+
+‘And it’s old Mrs. Norgood,’ sighed Gillian, looking over the balusters,
+‘and she always slays for ages!’
+
+‘One of you young ladies must bide with Miss Dollars,’ said Nurse
+Halfpenny, decidedly, ‘or we shall have her fretting herself ill again.’
+
+‘Oh, nursie, can’t you?’ entreated Gillian.
+
+‘Me, Miss Gillian! How can I, when Miss Primrose is going out with
+the whole clamjamfrie, and all the laddies, into the wet plantations?
+Na--one of ye maun keep the lassie company. Ye’ve had your turn, Miss
+Gillian, so it should be Miss Mysie. It winna hurt ye, bairn, ye that
+hae been rampaging ower the house all the morning.’
+
+Mysie knew it was her turn, but she also knew that nurse always favoured
+Gillian and snubbed her. She had a devouring longing to be with her dear
+Fly, and a certain sense that she was the preferred one. Must another
+pleasure be sacrificed to that very naughty Dolores, whose misdemeanours
+had deprived them of the visit to Rotherwood. She looked so dismal that
+Gillian said good-naturedly, ‘Really, Mysie, I don’t think mamma would
+mind Dolores’s being left a little while; I must go down to see about
+the Tree, because mamma gave me a message to old Webb, but I’ll come
+back directly. Or perhaps Dolly is going to sleep, and does not want any
+one. Go and see.’
+
+Mysie on this crept quietly into the room, full of hope of escape, but
+Dolores was anything but asleep. ‘Oh, are you come, Mysie? Now you’ll go
+on with the story. I tried, but my eyes ache at the back of them, and I
+can’t.’
+
+Mysie’s fate was sealed. She sat down by the fire and took up the book,
+‘A Story for the Schoolroom,’ one of the new ones given from the Tree.
+It was the middle of the story, and she did not care about it at first,
+especially when she heard Fly’s voice, and all the others laughing and
+chattering on the stairs.
+
+‘Didn’t they care for her absence?’ and her voice grew thick, and her
+eyes dim; but Dolores must not think her cross and unwilling, and she
+made a great effort, became interested in the girls there described, and
+wondered whether staying with Fly would have turned her head, after the
+example of the heroine of the book.
+
+Dolores did not seem to want to talk. In fact, she was clinging to the
+reading, because she could not bear to speak or think of the state of
+affairs, and the story seemed, as it were, to drown her misery. She
+knew that her aunt and cousins were far less severe with her than she
+expected, but that could only be because she was ill. Had not Uncle
+Reginald turned against her, and Constance? It would all come upon her
+as soon as she came out of her room, and she was rather sorry to believe
+that she should be up and about to-morrow morning.
+
+Mysie read on till the short, winter day showed the first symptoms of
+closing in. Then Lady Merrifield came up. ‘You here, little nurse?’ she
+said. ‘Run out now and meet the others. I’ll stay with Dolly.’ Mysie
+knew by the kiss that her mother was pleased with her; but Dolores
+dreaded the talk with her aunt, and made herself sleepy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. -- THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE.
+
+
+
+The two gentlemen who had gone to Darminster brought home tidings that
+the police who had been put on the track of Flinders had telegraphed
+that it was thought that a person answering to his description had
+embarked at Liverpool in an American-bound steamer.
+
+This idea, though very uncertain, was a relief, at least to all except
+the boys, who thought it a great shame that such a rascal should escape,
+and wanted to know whether the Americans could not be made to give him
+up. They did not at all understand their elders being glad, for the sake
+of Maurice Mohun and his dead wife, that the man should not be publicly
+convicted, and above all that Dolores should not have to bear testimony
+against him in court, and describe her own very doubtful proceedings.
+Besides, there would have been other things to try him for, since he had
+cheated the publishing house which employed him of all he had been able
+to get into his hands. There was reason to believe that he had heavy
+debts, especially gambling ones, and that he had become desperate since
+he no longer had his step-sister to fall back upon.
+
+Looking into his room, among other papers, a half-burnt manuscript was
+found upon his grate among some exhausted cinders, as if he had been
+trying to use the unfortunate ‘Waif of the Moorland’ to eke out his last
+fire. Moreover, the proprietor of the Politician told Colonel Mohun of
+having remonstrated with him on the exceeding weakness and poorness of
+the ‘Constantia’ poetry, ‘which,’ as that indignant personage added,
+‘was evidently done merely as a lure to the unfortunate young lady.’
+
+The fifteen pounds had been accepted in an honourable and ladylike
+manner by the elder sister--but without any overpowering expression
+of gratitude. No doubt it was a bitter pill to her, forced down by
+necessity, and without guessing that it cost the donors anything.
+
+Dolores’s mind was set at rest as to Flinders’s evasion before night,
+and on the Sunday morning even Nurse Halfpenny could find out nothing
+the matter with her, so that she was obliged to make her appearance as
+usual. Uncle Reginald did not kiss her, he only gave a cold nod, and
+said ‘Good morning.’ Otherwise all went on as usual, and it was pleasant
+to find that Fly was as entirely used as they were to learning Collect
+and hymn, and copying out texts illustrating Catechism, and that she was
+expected to have them ready to repeat them to her mother some time
+in the afternoon. There was something, too, that Mysie could not have
+described, but which she liked, in the manner in which, on this morning,
+Dolores accepted small acts of good nature, such as finding a book
+for her, getting a new pen and helping her to the whereabouts of a
+Scriptural reference. It seemed for the first time as if she liked to
+receive a kindness, and her ‘thank you’ really had a sound of thanks,
+instead of being much more like ‘I wish you would not.’ Mysie felt
+really encouraged to be kind, and when, on setting forth to church,
+everybody was crowding round trying to walk with Fly, and Dolores was
+going along lonely and deserted, Mysie resigned her chance of one side
+of the favourite Phyllis, and dropped back to give her company to the
+solitary one. To her surprise and gratification, Dolores took hold of
+her hand, and listened quite willingly to her chatter about the schemes
+for the fortnight that Fly was to be left with them. Presently Constance
+was seen going markedly by the other gate of the churchyard, quite out
+of her usual way, and not even looking towards them.
+
+It was the last day of the old year, and, in the midst of the Christmas
+joy, there were allusions to it in the services and hymns. Something
+in the tune of ‘Days and moments quickly flying,’ touched some chord in
+Dolores’s spirit, and set her off crying. She would have done anything
+to stop it, but there was no helping it, great round splashes came down,
+and the more she was afraid of being noticed, the worse the choking
+grew. At last, the very worst person--she thought--to take notice. Uncle
+Reginald, did so, and, under cover of a general rising, said sternly,
+‘Stop that, or go out.’
+
+Stop that! Much did the colonel know about a girl’s tears, or how she
+would have given anything to check them. But here was Aunt Lily edging
+down to her, taking her by the hand, leading her out, she did not know
+how, stopping all who would have come after them with help--then pausing
+a little in the open, frosty air.
+
+‘Oh, Aunt Lily! I am very sorry!’
+
+‘Never mind that, my dear. Do you feel poorly?’
+
+‘Oh no; I’m quite well--only--’
+
+‘Only overcome--I don’t wonder--my dear--can you walk quietly home with
+me?’
+
+‘Yes, please.’
+
+Nothing was said till they had passed the ‘idle corner,’ where men and
+half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and
+stared at the lady making her exit, till they were through the short
+street with shop windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking,
+and had come into the quiet lane leading to the paddock. Then Lady
+Merrifield laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder very gently, and said,
+‘It was too much for you, my dear, you are not quite strong yet.’
+
+‘Oh yes; I’m well. Only I am so very--very miserable,’ and the gust of
+sobs and tears rushed on her again.
+
+‘Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!’
+
+‘You can’t! I’ve done it! And--and they’ll all be against me
+always--Uncle Regie and all!’
+
+‘Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I’m sure he will forgive you when
+he sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a
+fresh start. I am sure you were deceived.’
+
+‘Yes,’ said Dolores. ‘I never could have thought he--Uncle Alfred--was
+such a dreadful man.’
+
+‘I expect that since he lost your mother’s influence and help he may
+have sunk lower than when you had seen him before. Did your father give
+you any directions about him?’
+
+‘No. Father hated to hear of him’ and never spoke about him if he could
+help it; and we thought it was all Mohun high notions because he wasn’t
+quite a gentleman.’
+
+‘I see. Indeed, my dear, though you have done very wrong, I have
+already felt that there was great excuse for you in trying to keep up
+intercourse with a person who belonged to your mother. I wish you had
+told me, but I suppose you were afraid.’
+
+‘Yes’ said Dolores. ‘And I thought you were sure to be cross and harsh,’
+she muttered. And then suddenly looking up, ‘Oh, Aunt Lily! everybody is
+angry but you--you and Mysie! Please go on being kind! I believe you’ve
+been good to me always.’
+
+‘My dear, I’ve tried,’ said Lady Merrifield, with fears in her brown
+eyes and a choke in her voice caressing the hand that had been put into
+hers. ‘I have wished very much to make you happy with us; but the ways
+of a large family must be a trial to a new-comer.’
+
+Dolores raised her face for a kiss, and said, ‘I see it now. But I did
+not like everything always, and I thought aunts were sure to be unkind.’
+
+‘That was very hard. And why?’
+
+She was heard to mutter something about aunts in books always being
+cross.
+
+‘Ah! my dear! I suppose there are some unkind aunts, but I am sure there
+are a great many more who wish with all their hearts to make happy homes
+for their nieces. I hope now we may do so. I have more hope than ever I
+had, and so I shall write to your father.’
+
+‘And please--please,’ cried Dolores, ‘don’t let Uncle Regie write him a
+very dreadful letter! I know he will.’
+
+‘I think you can prevent that best yourself, by telling Uncle Regie how
+sorry you are. He was specially grieved because he thinks you told him
+two direct falsehoods.’
+
+‘Oh! I didn’t think they were that,’ said Dolores, ‘for it was true that
+father did not leave anything with me for Uncle Alfred. And I did not
+know whether it was me whom he saw at Darminster. I did tell you one
+once, Aunt Lily, when you asked if I gave Constance a note. At least,
+she gave it to me, and not I to her. Indeed, I don’t tell falsehoods,
+Aunt Lily--I mean I never did at home, but Constance said everybody said
+those sort of things at school, and that one was driven to it when one
+was---’
+
+‘Was what, my dear?’
+
+‘Tyrannized over,’ Dolores got out.
+
+‘Ah! Dolly, I am afraid Constance was no real friend. It was a great
+mistake to think her like Miss Hacket.’
+
+‘And now she has sent back all my notes, and won’t look at me or speak
+to me,’ and Dolores’s tears began afresh.
+
+‘It is very ungenerous of her, but very likely she will be very sorry to
+have done so when her first anger is over, and she understands that you
+were quite as much deceived as she was.’
+
+‘But I shall never care for her again. It is not like Mysie, who never
+stopped being kind all the time--nor Gillian either. I shall cut her
+next time!’
+
+‘You should remember that she has something to forgive. I don’t want you
+to be intimate with her but I think it would be better if, instead of
+quarrelling openly, you wrote a note to say that you were deceived and
+that you are very sorry for what you brought on her.’
+
+‘I should not have gone on with it but for her and Her stupid poems!’
+
+‘Can you bear to tell me how it all was, my dear? I do not half
+understand it.’
+
+And on the way home, and in Lady Merrifield’s own room Dolores found
+it a relief to pour forth an explanation of the whole affair, beginning
+with that meeting with Mr. Flinders at Exeter, of which no one had
+heard, and going on to her indignation at the inspection of her letters;
+and how Constance had undertaken to conduct her correspondence, ‘and
+that made it seem as if she must write to some one,’--so she wrote to
+Uncle Alfred. And then Constance, becoming excited at the prospect of
+a literary connection, all the rest followed. It was a great relief to
+have told it all, and Lady Merrifield was glad to see that the sense of
+deceit was what weighed most heavily upon her niece, and seemed to have
+depressed her all along. Indeed, the aunt came to the conclusion
+that though Dolores alone might still have been sullen, morose and
+disagreeable, perhaps very reserved, she never would have kept up
+the systematic deceit but for Constance. The errors, regarded as sin,
+weighed on Lady Merrifield’s mind, but she judged it wiser not to press
+that thought on an unprepared spirit, trusting that just as Dolores had
+wakened to the sense of the human love that surrounded her, hitherto
+disbelieved and disregarded, so she might yet awake to the feeling of
+the Divine love and her offence against it.
+
+The afternoon was tolerably free, for the gentlemen, including the elder
+boys, walked to evensong at a neighbouring church noted for its musical
+services, and Lady Merrifield, as she said, ‘lashed herself up’ to go
+with Gillian, carry back the remnant of the unhappy ‘Waif,’ and ‘have it
+out’ with Constance, who would, she feared, never otherwise understand
+the measure of her own delinquency, and from whom, perhaps, evidence
+might be extracted which would palliate the poor child’s offence in
+the eyes of Colonel Mohun. Both the Hacket sisters looked terribly
+frightened when she appeared, and the elder one made an excuse for
+getting her outside the door to beseech her to be careful, dear
+Constance was so nervous and so dreadfully upset by all she had
+undergone. Lady Merrifield was not the least nervous of the two, and she
+felt additionally displeased with Constance for not having said one word
+of commiseration when her sister had inquired for Dolores. On returning
+to the drawing-room, Lady Merrifield found the young lady standing by
+the window, playing with the blind, and looking as if she wanted to make
+her escape.
+
+‘I do not know whether you will be sorry or glad to see this,’ said Lady
+Merrifield, producing a half-burnt roll of paper. ‘It was found in
+Mr. Flinders’s grate, and my brother thought you would be glad that it
+should not get into strange hands.’
+
+‘Oh, it was cruel! it was base! What a wicked man he is!’ cried
+Constance, with hot tears, as she beheld the mutilated condition of her
+poor ‘Waif.’
+
+‘Yes, it was a most unfortunate thing that you should have run into
+intercourse with such an utterly untrustworthy person.’
+
+‘I was grossly deceived, Lady Merrifield!’ said Constance, clasping her
+hands somewhat theatrically.
+
+‘I shall never believe in any one again!’
+
+‘Not without better grounds, I hope,’ was the answer. ‘Your poor little
+friend is terribly broken down by all this.’
+
+‘Don’t call her my friend. Lady Merrifield. She has used me shamefully!
+What business had she to tell me he was her uncle when he was no such
+thing?’
+
+‘She had been always used to call him so.’
+
+‘Don’t tell me, Lady Merrifield,’ said Constance, who, after her first
+fright, was working herself into a passion. ‘You don’t know what
+a little viper you have been warming, nor what things she has been
+continually saying of you. She told me--’
+
+Lady Merrifield held up her hand with authority.
+
+‘Stay, Constance. Do you think it is generous in you to tell me this?’
+
+‘I am sure you ought to know.’
+
+‘Then why did you encourage her?’
+
+‘I pitied her--I believed her--I never thought she would have led me
+into this!’
+
+‘How did she lead you?’
+
+‘Always talking about her precious, persecuted uncle. I believe she was
+in league with him all the time!’
+
+‘That is nonsense,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘as you must see if you
+reflect a little. Dolores was too young to have been told this man’s
+real character; she only knew that her mother, who had spent her
+childhood with him, treated him as a brother, and did all she could for
+him. Dolores did very wrongly and foolishly in keeping up a connection
+with him unknown to me; but I cannot help feeling there was great excuse
+for her, and she was quite as much deceived as you were.’
+
+‘Oh, of course, you stand by your own niece, Lady Merrifield. If you
+knew what horrid things she said about your pride and unkindness, as she
+called it, you would not think she deserved it.’
+
+‘Nay, that is exactly what does most excuse her in my eyes. Her fancying
+such things of me was what did prevent her from confiding in me.’
+
+Constance had believed herself romantic, but the Christian chivalry of
+Lady Merrifield’s nature was something quite beyond her. She muttered
+something about Dolores not deserving, which made her visitor really
+angry, and say, ‘We had better not talk of deserts. Dolores is a mere
+child--a mother-less child, who had been a good deal left to herself for
+many months. I let her come to you because she seemed shy and unhappy
+with us, and I did not like to deny her the one pleasure she seemed to
+care for. I knew what an excellent person and thorough lady your sister
+is, and I thought I could perfectly trust her with you. I little thought
+you would have encouraged her in concealment, and--I must say--deceit,
+and thus made me fail in the trust her father reposed in me.’
+
+‘I would never have done it,’ Constance sobbed, ‘but for what she said
+about you. Lady Merrifield!’
+
+‘Well, and even if I am such a hard, severe person, does that make it
+honourable or right to help the child I trusted to you to carry on this
+underhand correspondence?’
+
+Constance hung her head. Her sister had said the same to her, but she
+still felt herself the most injured party, and thought it very hard
+that she should be so severely blamed for what the girls at her school
+treated so lightly. She said, ‘I am very sorry. Lady Merrifield,’ but
+it was not exactly the tone of repentance, and it ended with: ‘If it had
+not been for her, I should never have done it.’
+
+‘I suppose not, for there would have been no temptation. I was in
+hopes that you would have shown some kindlier and more generous feeling
+towards the younger girl, who could not have gone so far wrong without
+your assistance, and who feels your treatment of her very bitterly. But
+to find you incapable of understanding what you have done, makes me all
+the more glad that the friendship--if friendship it can be called--is
+broken off between you. Good-bye. I think when you are older and wiser,
+you will be very sorry to recollect the doings of the last few months.’
+
+Lady Merrifield walked away, and found on her return that Dolores had
+succeeded in writing to her father, and was so utterly tired out by the
+feelings it had cost her that she was only fit to lie on the sofa and
+sleep.
+
+Gillian was, of course, not seen till she came home from evening
+service.
+
+‘Oh, mamma,’ she said, ‘what did you do to Constance?’
+
+‘Why?’
+
+‘Well, I heard you shut the front door. And presently after there came
+such a noise through the wall that all the girls pricked up their ears,
+and Miss Hacket jumped up in a fright. If it had been Val, one would
+have called it a naughty child roaring.’
+
+‘What! did I send her into hysterics?’
+
+‘I suppose, as she is grown up, it must have the fine name, but it
+wasn’t a bit like poor Dolly’s choking. I am sure she did it to make her
+sister come! Well, of course, Miss Hacket went away, and I did the best
+I could, but what could one do with all these screeches and bellowings
+breaking out?’
+
+‘For shame. Gill!’
+
+‘I can’t help it, mamma. If you had only seen their faces when the
+uproar came in a fresh gust! How they whispered, and some looked
+awestruck. I thought I had better get rid of them, and come home myself;
+but Miss Hacket met me, and implored me to stay, and I was weak-minded
+enough to do so. I wish I hadn’t, for it was only to be provoked past
+bearing. That horrid girl has poisoned even Miss Hacket’s mind, and she
+thinks you have been hard on her darling. You did not know how nervous
+and timid dear Connie is!’
+
+‘Well, Gill, I confess she made me very angry, and I told her what I
+thought of her.’
+
+‘And that she didn’t choose to hear!’
+
+‘Did you see her again?’
+
+‘No, I am thankful to say, I did not. But Miss Hacket would go on all
+tea-time, explaining and explaining for me to tell you how dear Connie
+is so affectionate and so easily led, and how Dolores came over her with
+persuasions, and deceived her. I declare I never liked Dolly so well
+before. At any rate, she doesn’t make professions, and not a bit
+more fuss than she can help. And there was Miss Hacket getting brandy
+cherries and strong coffee, and I don’t know what all, because dear
+Connie was so overcome, and dear Lady Merrifield was quite under a
+mistake, and so deceived by Dolores. I told Miss Hacket you were never
+under a mistake nor deceived.’
+
+‘You didn’t, Gillian!’
+
+‘Yes, I did, and the stupid woman only wanted to kiss me (but I wouldn’t
+let her) and said I was very right to stand up for my dear mamma. As if
+that had anything to do with it! What are you laughing at, mamma? Why,
+Uncle Regie is laughing, and Cousin Rotherwood! What is it?’
+
+‘At the two partisans who never stand up for their own families,’ said
+Uncle Regie.
+
+‘But it’s true!’ cried Gillian.
+
+‘What! that I am never mistaken nor deceived?’ said Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘Except when you took Miss Constance for a sensible woman, eh?’ said her
+brother.
+
+‘That I never did! But I did take her for a moderately honourable one.’
+
+‘Well, that was a mistake,’ owned Gillian. ‘And Miss Hacket is as bad!
+There’s no gratitude---’
+
+‘Hush!’ broke in her mother; and Gillian stopped abashed, while Lady
+Merrifield continued, ‘I won’t have Miss Hacket abused. She is only
+blinded by sisterly affection.’
+
+‘I don’t think I can go there again,’ said Gillian, ‘after what she said
+about you.’
+
+‘Nonsense!’ said her mother. ‘Don’t be as bad as Constance in trying to
+make me angry by telling me all poor Dolly’s grumblings.’
+
+‘Follow your mother’s example, Gillian,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘and, if
+possible, never hear, certainly never attend to, what any one says of
+you behind your back.’
+
+‘Is said to have said of you, you should add, Rotherwood,’ put in the
+colonel. ‘It is a decree worse than eavesdropping.’
+
+‘Oh, Regie!’ exclaimed his sister.
+
+‘Well, not perhaps for your own honour and conscience, but the keyhole
+is a more trustworthy medium than the reporter.’
+
+‘That’s a strong way of stating it, but, at any rate, the keyhole has no
+temper nor imagination, or prejudice of its own,’ said Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘No, and as far as it goes, it enables you to judge of the frame in
+which the words, even if correctly reported, were spoken,’ added Colonel
+Mohun.
+
+‘The moral of which is,’ said Lord Rotherwood, drolly, ‘that Gillian
+is not to take notice of anyone’s observations upon her unless she has
+heard them through the keyhole.’
+
+‘And so one would never hear them at all.’
+
+‘Q. E. D.,’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘And now, Lily, do you. ever sing
+the two evening-hymns. Ken and Keble, now, as the family used to do
+on Sundays at the Old Court, long ere the days of ‘Hymns Ancient and
+Modern’?
+
+‘Don’t we?’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Only all our best voices will be
+singing it at Rawul Pindee!’
+
+And, as she struck a note on the piano, all the younger people still up,
+Mysie, Phyllis, Wilfred and Valetta, gathered round from the outer
+room to join in their evening Sunday delight. Fly put her hand into her
+father’s and whispered, ‘You told me about it, daddy.’ He began to sing,
+but his voice thickened as he missed the tones once associated with it.
+And Lady Merrifield, too, nearly broke down as with all her heart she
+sang, hopefully,
+
+
+                   ‘Now Lord, the gracious work begin.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. -- THE STONE MELTING.
+
+
+
+It was with a strange feeling that Dolores woke on the New Year’s
+morning, that something was very sad and strange, and yet that there was
+a sense of relief. For one thing, that terrible confession to her father
+was written, and was no longer a weight hanging over her. And though his
+answer was still to come, that was months away. There was Uncle Regie
+greatly displeased with her; there was Constance treating her as a
+traitor; there was the mischief done, and yet something hard and heavy
+was gone? Something sweet and precious had come in on her! Surely
+it was, that now she knew and felt that she could trust in Aunt
+Lilias--yes, and in Mysie. She got up, quite looking forward to meeting
+those gentle, brown eyes of her aunt’s, that she seemed never before to
+have looked into, and to feeling the sweet, motherly kiss which had so
+mud, more meaning in it now, as almost to make up for Uncle Reginald’s
+estrangement.
+
+She even anticipated gladly those ten minutes alone with her aunt, which
+she used to dislike so much, hoping that the holiday-time would not
+hinder them. Really wishing to please her aunt, she had learnt her
+portion perfectly, and Lady Merrifield showed that she appreciated the
+effort, though still it was more a lesson than a reality.
+
+‘My dear!’ she said, ‘I am afraid this is another blow for you--it came
+this morning.’
+
+It was the account from Professor Muhlwasser’s German publisher,
+amounting to a few shillings more than six pounds. And an announcement
+that the books were on the way.
+
+‘Oh,’ cried Dolores, ‘I thought he was dead! He told me so! Uncle
+Alfred, I mean! And it was only to get the money! How could he be so
+wicked?’
+
+‘I am afraid that was all he cared for.’
+
+‘And what shall I do. Aunt Lily? Will you pay it, please, and take all
+my allowance till it is made up?’
+
+‘I think it will be more comfortable for you if I do something of that
+sort, though I don’t think you should go entirely without money. You
+have a pound a quarter. I was going to give you yours at once.’
+
+‘Oh, take it--pray--’
+
+‘Suppose I give you five shillings, instead of twenty. I do not think it
+well to leave you with nothing for a year and a half, and this is nearly
+what Mysie has.’
+
+‘A shilling a month--very well. I wish I could pay it all at once!’
+
+‘No doubt you do, my dear, but this will keep you in mind for a long
+time what a dangerous thing you did in giving away money you had no
+right to dispose of.’
+
+‘Yes,’ said Dolores. ‘Mother earned money for him. I know she never took
+father’s without asking him; but I couldn’t earn, and couldn’t ask.’
+
+Lady Merrifield kissed her, for very joy, to hear no sullenness in her
+tone; and then all went to church together on the New Year’s day that
+was to be the beginning of better things. Lord Rotherwood had just time
+to go before meeting the train which was to take him to High Court,
+leaving his Fly too much used to his absences to be distressed about
+them, and, in fact, somewhat crazy about a notion which Gillian had
+started that morning, of getting up a little play to surprise him when
+he came back for Twelfth Day, as he promised to do.
+
+Mamma declared that if it was in French, and the words were learnt every
+morning before half-past eleven, it should supersede all other lessons;
+but such was the hatred of the whole boy faction to French, that they
+declared they had rather do rational sensible lessons twice over than
+learn such rot, and this carried the day. The drama proposed was
+that one in an old number of ‘Aunt Judy,’ where the village mayor is
+persuaded by the drummer to fine the girls for wearing lace caps. The
+French original existed in the house, and Fly started the idea that the
+male performers should speak English and the female French; but this was
+laughed down.
+
+In the midst Uncle Reginald came to the door and called, ‘Lilias, can
+you speak to me a minute?’
+
+Lady Merrifield went out into the hall to him.
+
+‘Here’s a policeman come over, Lily. They have got the fellow!’
+‘Flinders?’
+
+
+‘Yes; arrested him on board a steamer at Bristol.’
+
+‘Oh, I wish they had let it alone!’
+
+‘So do I. They are bringing him back. The Darminster City bench
+sits to-day, and they want that unlucky child over there to make her
+deposition for his committal.’
+
+‘Can’t they commit him without her?’
+
+‘Not for the forgery. The bank people are bent on prosecuting for that,
+and we can’t stop them. I suppose she can be depended on?’
+
+‘Reginald, don’t! I told you the deceit was an unnatural growth from
+Constance’s pseudo sentiment.’
+
+‘Well, get her ready to come with me,’ said the colonel, with a gesture
+of doubt; ‘we must catch the 12.50. The superintendent brought a fly.’
+
+‘You will frighten her out of her senses. I can’t let her go alone with
+you in this mood.’
+
+‘As you please, if you choose to knock yourself up. I’ll tell the
+superintendent, and walk on to the station. You’ve not a moment to lose,
+so don’t let her stand dawdling and crying.’
+
+It was a hard task for Lady Merrifield. She called Dolores, whom Mysie
+was inviting to be one of the village maidens, and bade her put on her
+things quickly. She ordered cold meat and wine into the dining-room,
+called Gillian into her room, and explained while dressing, and bade her
+keep the others away. Then, meeting Dolores on the stairs took her into
+the dining-room and made her swallow some cold beef, and drink some
+sherry, before telling her that the magistrates at Darminster wanted
+to ask her some questions. Dolores looked pale and frightened, and
+exclaimed,
+
+‘Oh, but he has got away!’
+
+‘My dear, I am grieved to say that he has not.’
+
+Dolores understood, and submitted more quietly and resignedly than her
+aunt had feared. She was a barrister’s daughter, and once or twice her
+father had taken her and her mother part of the way on circuit with him,
+and she had been in court, so that she had known from the first that if
+her uncle were arrested there was no choice but that she must speak out.
+So she only trembled very much and said--
+
+‘Aunt Lily, are you going with me?’
+
+‘Indeed I am, my poor child. Uncle Regie is gone on.’
+
+No more was spoken then, but Dolores put her cold hand into her aunt’s
+muff.
+
+Gillian kept all the flock prisoned in the schoolroom. Wilfred, Val, and
+Fergus rushed to the window, and were greatly disappointed not to see a
+policeman on the box, ‘taking Dolores to be tried’--as Fergus declared,
+and Wilfred insisted, just because Gillian and Mysie contradicted it
+with all their might. He continued to repeat it with variations and
+exaggerations, until Jasper heard him, and declared that he should have
+a thorough good licking if he said so again, administering a cuff by way
+of earnest. Wilfred howled, and was ordered not to be such an ape, and
+Fly looked on in wonder at the domestic discipline.
+
+The superintendent had, in fact, walked on with Uncle Reginald, and
+Dolores saw nothing of him, but was put into an empty first-class
+carriage, into which her aunt followed her, but her uncle,
+observing, ‘You know how to manage her, Lily,’ betook himself to a
+smoking-carriage, and left them to themselves.
+
+Dolores was never a very talking girl, and the habit of silence had
+grown upon her. She leant against her aunt and she put her arm round
+her, and did not attempt to say anything till she asked,
+
+‘Will he be there?’
+
+‘I don’t know, I am afraid he will. It is very sad for you, my poor
+Dolly; but we must recollect that, after all, it may be much better
+for him to be stopped now than to go on and get worse and worse in some
+strange country.’
+
+Dolores did not ask what she was to do, she knew enough already about
+trials to understand that she was only to answer questions, and she
+presently said,
+
+‘This can’t be his trial. There are no assizes now.’
+
+‘No, this is only for the committal. It will very soon be over, if you
+will only answer quietly and steadily. If you do so, I think Uncle Regie
+will be pleased, and tell your father! I am sure I shall!’
+
+Dolores pressed up closer and laid her cheek against the soft sealskin.
+In the midst of her trouble there was a strange wonder in her. Could
+this be really the aunt whom she had thought so cruel, unjust, and
+tyrannical, and from whom she had so carefully hidden her feelings?
+Nobody got into the carriage, and just before reaching Darminster, Lady
+Merrifield made a great effort over her own shyness and said,
+
+‘Now, Dolly, we will pray a little prayer that you may be a faithful
+witness, and that God may turn it, all to good for your poor uncle.’
+
+Dolores was very much surprised, and did not know whether she liked it
+or not, but she saw her aunt’s closed eyes and uplifted hands, and she
+tried to follow the example.
+
+The train stopped, and her uncle came to the door, looking inquiringly
+at her.
+
+‘She will be good and brave,’ said her aunt; and quickly passing across
+the platform, Dolores found herself beside her aunt, with her uncle
+opposite in another fly.
+
+Things had been arranged for them considerately, and after they came to
+the Guildhall, where the city magistrates were sitting, Colonel Mohun
+went at once into court; the others were taken to a little room, and
+waited there a few minutes before Colonel Mohun came to call for his
+niece. It was a long room, with a rail at one end, and Dolores knew,
+with a strange thrill which made her shudder, that Mr. Flinders was
+there, but she could not bear to look at him, and only squeezed hard at
+the hand of her aunt, who asked, in a somewhat shaky voice, if she might
+come with her niece.
+
+‘Certainly, certainly. Lady Merrifield,’ said one of the magistrates,
+and chairs were set both for her and Colonel Mohun.
+
+‘You are Miss Mohun, I think--may I ask your Christian name in full?’
+And then she had to spell it, and likewise tell her exact age, after
+which she was put on oath--as she knew enough of trials to expect.
+
+‘Are you residing with Lady Merrifield?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘But your father is living?’
+
+‘Yes, but he is in the Fiji Islands.’
+
+‘Will you favour us with his exact name?’
+
+‘Maurice Devereux Mohun.’
+
+‘When did he leave England?’
+
+‘The fifth of last September.’
+
+‘Did he leave any money with you?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘In what form?’
+
+‘A cheque on W----‘s Bank.
+
+‘To bearer or order?’
+
+‘To order.’
+
+‘What was the date?’
+
+‘I think it was the 31st of August, but I am not sure.’
+
+‘For how much?’
+
+‘For seven pounds.’
+
+‘When did you part with it?’
+
+‘On the Friday before Christmas Day.’
+
+‘Did you do anything to it first?’
+
+‘I wrote my name on the back.’
+
+‘What did you do with it.’
+
+‘I sent it to--’ her voice became a little hoarse, but she brought out
+the words--‘to Mr. Flinders.’
+
+‘Is this the same?’
+
+‘Yes--only some one has put ‘ty’ to the ‘seven’ in writing, and 0 to the
+figure 7.’
+
+‘Can you swear to the rest as your father’s writing and your own?’
+
+The evidence of the banker’s clerk as to the cashing of the cheque had
+been already taken, and the magistrate said, ‘Thank you. Miss Mohun, I
+think the case is complete, and we need not trouble you any more.’
+
+But the prisoner’s voice made Dolores start and shudder again, as he
+said,
+
+‘I beg your pardon, sir, but you have not asked the young lady’--there
+was a sort of sneer in his voice--‘how she sent this draft.’
+
+‘Did not you send it direct by the post?’ demanded the magistrate.
+
+‘No; I gave it to--’ Again she paused, and the words ‘Gave it to--?’
+were authoritatively repeated, so that she had no choice.
+
+‘I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send.’
+
+‘You will observe, sir,’ said Flinders, in a somewhat insolent tone,
+‘that the evidence which the witness has been so ready to adduce is
+incomplete. There is another link between her hands and mine.’
+
+‘You may reserve that point for your defence on your trial,’ rejoined
+the magistrate. ‘There is quite sufficient evidence for your committal.’
+
+There was already a movement to let Dolores be taken away by her uncle
+and aunt, so as to spare her from any reproach or impertinence that
+Flinders might launch at her. She was like some one moving in a dream,
+glad that her aunt should hold her hand as if she were a little child,
+saying, as they came out into the street, ‘Very clearly and steadily
+done, Dolly! Wasn’t it, Uncle Regie?’
+
+‘Yes,’ he said, absently. ‘We must look out, or we shan’t catch the 4.50
+train.’
+
+He almost threw them into a cab, and made the driver go his quickest,
+so that, after all, they had full ten minutes to spare. It made Dolores
+sick at heart to go near the waiting and refreshment-rooms where she and
+Constance had spent all that time with Flinders; but she could not bear
+to say so before her uncle, and he was bent on getting some food for
+Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘Not soup, Regie; there might not be time to swallow it. A glass of milk
+for us each, please; we can drink that at once, and anything solid that
+we can take with us. I am sure your mouth must be dry, my dear.’
+
+Very dry it was, and Dolores gladly swallowed the milk, and found, when
+seated in the train, that she was really hungry enough to eat her full
+share of the sandwiches and buns which the colonel had brought in with
+him; and then she sat resting against her aunt, closed her eyes, and
+half dozed in the rattle of the train, not moving in the pause at the
+stations, but quite conscious that Colonel Mohun said, ‘Not a spark of
+feeling for anybody, not even for that man! As hard as a stone!’
+
+‘For shame, Regie!’ said her aunt. ‘How angry you would have been if she
+had made a scene.’
+
+‘I should have liked her better.’
+
+‘No, you wouldn’t, when you come to understand. There’s stuff in her,
+and depth too.’
+
+‘Aye, she’s deep enough.’
+
+‘Poor child!’ said Lady Merrifield, tenderly. And then the train went
+on, and the noise drowned the voices, so that Dolores only partly heard,
+‘You will see how she will rise,’ and the answer, ‘You may be right; I
+hope so. But I can’t get over deliberate deceit.’
+
+He settled himself in his corner, and Lady Merrifield durst not move nor
+raise her voice lest she should break what seemed such deep slumber,
+but which really was half torpor, half a dull dismay, holding fast eyes,
+lips, and limbs, and which really became sleep, so that Dolores did not
+hear the next bit of conversation during the ensuing halt.
+
+‘I say, Lily, I did not like the fellow’s last question. He means to
+give trouble about it.’
+
+‘I was sorry the other name was brought in, but it must have come sooner
+or later.’
+
+‘That’s true; but if she can’t swear to the figures on the draft, ten to
+one that the fellow will get off.’
+
+‘You don’t doubt--’
+
+‘No, no; but there’s the chance for the defence, and he was sharp enough
+to see it.’
+
+‘There is nothing to be said or done about it, of course.’
+
+‘Of course not. There’s nothing for it but to let it alone.’
+
+They went on again, and when the train reached Silverton, Dolly was
+dreaming that her father had come, and that he said Uncle Alfred should
+be hanged unless she found the money for Professor Muhlwasser. She even
+looked about for him, and said, ‘Where’s father?’ when she was wakened
+to get out.
+
+Gillian came up to her mother’s room to hear what had happened, and to
+give an account of the day, which had gone off prosperously by Harry’s
+help. He had kept excellent order at dinner, and ‘there’s something
+about Fly which makes even Wilfred be mannerly before her.’ And then
+they had gone out and had made Fly free of the Thorn Fortress.
+
+‘My dear, that must have been terribly damp and cold at this time of
+year.’
+
+‘I thought of that, mamma, and so we didn’t sit down, and made it a
+guerrilla war; only Fergus couldn’t understand the difference between
+guerrillas and gorillas, and would thump upon himself and roar when they
+were in ambush.’
+
+‘Rather awkward for the ambush!’
+
+‘Yes, Wilfred said he was a traitor, and tied him to a tree, and then
+Fly found him crying, and would have let him out; but she couldn’t get
+the knots undone; and what do you think? She made Wilfred cut the string
+himself with his own knife! I never knew such a girl for making every
+one do as she pleases. Then, when it got dark, we came in, and had a
+sort of a kind of a rehearsal, only that nobody knew any of the parts,
+or what each was to be.’
+
+‘A sort of a kind, indeed, it must have been!’
+
+‘But we think the play will be lovely! You can’t think how nice Fly
+was. You know we settled for her to be Annette, the dear, funny, naughty
+girl, but as soon as she saw that Val wanted the part, she said she
+didn’t care, and gave it up directly, and I don’t think we ought to let
+her, and Hal thinks so too; and all the boys are very angry, and say
+Val will make a horrid mess of it. Then Mysie wanted to give up the good
+girl to Fly, and only be one of the chorus, but Fly says she had rather
+be one of the chorus ones herself than that. So we settled that you
+should fix the parts, and we would abide by your choice.’
+
+‘I hope there was no quarrelling.’
+
+‘N--no; only a little falling upon Val by the boys, and Fly put a stop
+to that. Oh, mamma, if it were only possible to turn Dolly into Fly! I
+can’t help saying it, we seemed to get on so much better just because
+we hadn’t poor Dolly to make a deadweight, and tempt the boys to be
+tiresome: while Fly made everything go off well. I can’t describe it,
+she didn’t in the least mean to keep order or interfere, but somehow
+squabbles seem to die away before her, and nobody wants to be
+troublesome.’
+
+‘Dear little thing! It is a very sweet disposition. But, Gill, I do
+believe that we shall see poor Dolly take a turn now!’
+
+‘Well! having quarrelled with that Constance is in her favour!’
+
+‘Try and think kindly of her trouble. Gill, and then it will be easier
+to be kind to her.’
+
+Gillian sighed. Falsehood and determined opposition to her mother were
+the greatest possible crimes in her eyes; and at her age it was not easy
+to separate the sin from the sinner.
+
+New Year’s night was always held to be one of especial merriment, but
+Lady Merrifield was so much tired out by her expedition that she hardly
+felt equal to presiding over any sports, and proposed that instead the
+young folk should dance. Gillian and Hal took turns to play for them,
+and Uncle Reginald and Fly were in equal request as partners. It was
+Mysie who came to draw Dolores out of her corner, and begged her to
+be her partner--‘If you wouldn’t very much rather not,’ she said, in a
+pleading, wistful, voice.
+
+Dolores would ‘very much rather not;’ but she saw that Mysie would be
+left out altogether if she did not consent, as Hal was playing and Uncle
+Regie was dancing with Primrose. She thought of resolutions to turn over
+a new leaf, and not to refuse everything so she said, ‘Yes, this once,’
+and it was wonderful how much freshened she felt by the gay motion, and
+perhaps by Mysie’s merry, good-natured eyes and caressing hand. After
+that she had another turn with Gillian and one with Hal, and even one
+with Fergus because, as he politely informed her, no one else would have
+him for a quadrille. But, just as this was in progress, and she could
+not help laughing at his ridiculous mistakes and contempt of rules
+she met Uncle Reginald’s eye fixed on her in wonder ‘He thinks I don’t
+care,’ thought she to herself. All her pleasure was gone, and she moved
+so dejectedly that her aunt, watching from the sofa, called her and told
+her she was over-tired, and sent her to bed.
+
+Dolores was tired, but not in the way which made it harder instead of
+easier to sleep, or, rather, she slept just enough to relax her full
+consciousness and hold over herself, and bring on her a misery of terror
+and loneliness, and feeling of being forsaken by the whole world. And
+when she woke fully enough to understand the reality, it was no better;
+she felt, then, the position she had put herself into, and almost saw
+in the dark, Flinders’s malicious vindictive glance Constance’s anger,
+Uncle Regie’s cold, severe look and, worse than all, her father reading
+her letter’
+
+She fell again into an agony of sobbing, not without a little hope
+that Aunt Lily would be again brought to her side. At last the door was
+softly pushed open in the dark, but it was not Aunt Lily, it was Mysie’s
+little bare feet that patted up to the bed, her arms that embraced,
+her cheek that was squeezed against the tearful one--‘Oh, Dolly, Dolly!
+please don’t cry so sadly!’
+
+‘Oh! it is so dreadful, Mysie!’
+
+‘Are you ill--like the other night?’
+
+‘No--but--Mysie--I can’t bear it!’
+
+‘I don’t want to call mamma,’ said Mysie, thoughtfully, ‘for she is so
+much tired, and Uncle Regie and Gill said she would be quite knocked up,
+and got her to come up to bed when we went. Dolly, would it be better if
+I got into your bed and cuddled you up?’
+
+‘Oh yes! oh yes! please do, there’s a dear good Mysie.’
+
+There was not much room, but that mattered the less, and the hugging
+of the warm arms seemed to heal the terrible sense of being unloved and
+forsaken, the presence to drive away the visions of angry faces that had
+haunted her; but there was the longing for fellow-feeling on her, and
+she said, ‘That’s nice! Oh, Mysie! you can’t think what it is like!
+Uncle Regie said I didn’t care, and he could never forgive deliberate
+deceit--and I was so fond of Uncle Regie!’
+
+‘Oh! but he will, if you never tell a story again,’ said Mysie--and,
+as she felt a gesture implying despair--‘Yes, they do; I told a story
+once.’
+
+‘You, Mysie! I thought you never did?’
+
+‘Yes, once, when we were crossing to Ireland and nurse wouldn’t let
+Wilfred tie our handkerchiefs together and fish over the side, and
+he was very angry, and threw her parasol into the sea when she wasn’t
+looking; and I knew she would be so cross, that when she asked me if I
+knew what was become of it, I said ‘No,’ and thought I didn’t, really.
+But then it came over me, again and again, that I had told a story, and,
+oh! I was so miserable whenever I thought of it--at church, and saying
+my prayers, you know; and mamma was poorly, and couldn’t come to us at
+night for ever so long, but at last I could bear it no longer, I heard
+her say, ‘Mysie is always truthful,’ and then I did get it out, and told
+her. And, oh! she and papa were so kind, and they did quite and entirely
+forgive me!’
+
+‘Yes, you told of your own accord; and they were your own--not Uncle
+Regie. Ah! Mysie, everybody hates me. I saw them all looking at me.’
+
+‘No, no! Don’t say such things. Dolly. None of us do anything so
+shocking.’
+
+‘Yes, Jasper does, and Wilfred and Val!’
+
+‘No! no! no! they don’t hate; only they are tiresome sometimes; but if
+you wouldn’t be cross they would be nice directly--at least Japs and
+Val. And ‘tisn’t hating with Willie, only he thinks teasing is fun.’
+
+‘And you and Gillian. You can only just bear me.
+
+‘No! no! no!’ with a great hug, ‘that’s not true.’
+
+‘You like Fly ever so much better!’
+
+‘She is so dear, and so funny,’ said Mysie, the truthful, ‘but somehow,
+Dolly dear, do you know, I think if you and I got to love one another
+like real friends, it would be nicer still than even Fly--because
+you are here like one of us, you know; and besides, it would be more,
+because you are harder to get at. Will you be my own friend. Dolly?’
+
+‘Oh, Mysie, I must!’ and there was a fresh kissing and hugging.
+
+‘And there’s mamma,’ added Mysie.
+
+‘Yes, I know Aunt Lily does now; but, oh! if you had seen Uncle Alfred’s
+face, and heard Uncle Regie,’ and Dolly began to sob again as they
+returned on her. ‘I see them whenever I shut my eyes!’
+
+‘Darling,’ whispered Mysie, ‘when I feel bad at night, I always kneel up
+in bed and say my prayers again!’
+
+‘Do you ever feel bad?’
+
+‘Oh yes, when I’m frightened, or if I’ve been naughty, and haven’t told
+mamma. Shall we do it, Dolly?’
+
+‘I don’t know what that has to do with it, but we’ll try.’
+
+‘Mamma told me something to say out of.’
+
+The two little girls rose up, with clasped hands in their bed, and Mysie
+whispered very low, but so that her companion heard, and said with her a
+few childish words of confession, pleading and entreating for strength,
+and then the Lord’s Prayer, and the sweet old verse:--
+
+
+         ‘I lay my body down to sleep,
+          I give my soul to Christ to keep,
+          Wake I at morn, as wake I never,
+          I give my soul to Christ for ever.’
+
+
+‘Ah! but I am afraid of that. I don’t like it,’ said Dolores, as they
+lay down again.
+
+‘It won’t make one never wake,’ returned Mysie; ‘and I do like to give
+my soul to Christ. It seems so to rest one, and make one not afraid.’
+
+‘I don’t know,’ said Dolores; ‘and why did you say the Lord’s Prayer?
+That hasn’t anything to do with it!’
+
+‘Oh, Dolly, when He is our Father near, though our own dear fathers
+are far away, and there’s deliver us from evil--all that hurts us, you
+know-and forgive us. It’s all there.’
+
+‘I never thought that,’ said Dolores. ‘I think you have some different
+prayers from mine. Old nurse taught me long ago. I wish you would always
+say yours with me. You make them nicer.’
+
+Mysie answered with a hug, and a murmured ‘If I can,’ and offered to
+say the 121st Psalm, her other step to comfort, and, as she said it, she
+resolved in her mind whether she could grant Dolores’s request; for
+she was not sure whether she should be allowed to leave her room before
+saying her own, and she I knew enough of Dolores by this time to be
+aware that to say she would ask mamma’s leave would put an end to all.
+‘I know,’ was her final decision; ‘I’ll say my own first, and then come
+to Dolly’s room.’
+
+But by that time Dolores was asleep, even if Mysie had not been too
+sleepy to speak.
+
+She meant to have rushed to the room she shared with Valetta before it
+was time to get up, but Lots found the black head and the brown together
+on Dolores’s pillow, wrapped in slumber; and though Mysie flew home as
+soon as she was well awake, Mrs. Halfpenny descended on her while she
+was yet in her bath, and inflicted a sharp scolding for the malpractice
+of getting into her cousin’s bed.
+
+‘But Dolly was so miserable, nurse, and mamma was too tired to call.’
+
+‘Then you should have called me, Miss Mysie, and I’d have sorted her
+well! You kenned well ‘tis a thing not to be done and at your age; ye
+should have minded your duties better.’
+
+And nurse even intercepted Mysie on her way to Dolores’s room, and
+declared she would have no messing and gossiping in one another’s rooms.
+Miss Mysie was getting spoilt among strangers.
+
+Mysie went down with a strong sense of having been disobedient, as well
+as of grief for Dolores’s disappointment. Happily mamma was late that
+morning, and nobody was in her room but Primrose. Poor Mysie had soon,
+with tears in her eyes, confessed her transgression. Her mother’s tears,
+to her great surprise, were on her cheek together with a kiss. ‘Dear
+child, I am not displeased. Indeed, I am not; I will tell nurse. It must
+not be a habit, but this was an exception, and I am only thankful you
+could comfort her.
+
+‘And, mamma, may I go now to her. She said I could help her to say her
+prayers, and I think she only has little baby ones that her nurse taught
+her and she doesn’t see into the Lord’s Prayer.’
+
+‘My dear, my dear, if you can help her to pray you will do the thing
+most sure to be a blessing to her of all.’
+
+And when Mysie was gone, Lady Merrifield knelt down afresh in
+thankfulness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. -- MYSIE AND DOLORES.
+
+
+
+Things were going on more quietly at Silverton. That is to say, there
+were no outward agitations, for the house was anything but quiet. Lady
+Merrifield had no great love for children’s parties, where, as she said,
+they sat up too late, to eat and drink what was not good for them, and
+to get presents that they did not care about; and though at Dublin
+it had been necessary on her husband’s account to give and take such
+civilities, she had kept out of the exchange at Silverton. But, on the
+other hand, there were festivals, and she promoted a full amount of
+special treats at home among themselves, or with only an outsider
+or two, and she endured any amount of noise, provided it was not
+quarrelsome, over-boisterous, or at unfit times.
+
+There was the school tea, and magic-lantern, when Mr. Pollock acted as
+exhibitor, and Harry as spokesman, and worked them up gradually from
+grave and beautiful scenes like the cedars of Lebanon, the Parthenon and
+Colosseum, with full explanations, through dissolving views of cottage
+and bridge by day and night, summer and winter, of life-boat rescue,
+and the siege of Sevastopol, with shells flying, on to Jack and
+the Beanstalk and the New Tale of a Tub, the sea-serpent, and the
+nose-grinding! Lady Phyllis’s ecstacy was surpassing, more especially as
+she found her beloved little maid-of-all-work, and was introduced to all
+that small person’s younger brothers and sisters.
+
+Here they met Miss Hacket, who was in charge of a class. She comported
+herself just as usual, and Gillian’s dignity and displeasure gave way
+before her homely cordiality. Constance had not come, as indeed nothing
+but childhood, sympathy with responsibility for childhood, could make
+the darkness, stuffiness, and noise of the exhibition tolerable. Even
+Lady Merrifield trusted her flock to its two elders, and enjoyed a
+tete-a-tete evening with her brother, who profited by it to advise her
+strongly to send Dolores to their sister Jane before harm was done to
+her own children.
+
+‘I would not see that little Mysie of yours spoilt for all the world,’
+said he.
+
+‘Nor I; but I don’t think it likely to happen.’
+
+‘Do you know that they are always after each other, chattering in their
+bedrooms at night. I hear them through the floor.’
+
+‘Only one night--Mysie told me all about it--I believe Mysie will do
+more for that poor child than any of us.’
+
+Uncle Regie shrugged his shoulders a little.
+
+‘Yes, I know I was wrong before, when I wouldn’t take Jane’s warning;
+but that was not about one of my own, and, besides, poor Dolores is very
+much altered.’
+
+‘I’ll tell you what, Lily, when any one, I don’t care who, man, or
+woman, or child, once is given up to that sort of humbug and deceit,
+carrying it on a that girl, Dolores, had done, I would never trust again
+an inch beyond what I could see. It eats into the very marrow of the
+bones--everything is acting afterwards.’
+
+‘That would be saying no repentance was possible--that Jacob never could
+become Israel.’
+
+‘I only say I have never seen it.’
+
+‘Then I hope you will, nay, that you do. I believe your displeasure is
+the climax of all Dolly’s troubles.’
+
+But Colonel Reginald Mohun could not forgive the having been so entirely
+deceived where he had so fully trusted; and there was no shaking his
+opinion that Dolores was essentially deceitful and devoid of feeling and
+that the few demonstrations of emotion that were brought before him were
+only put on to excite the compassion of her weakly, good-natured aunt,
+so he only answered, ‘You always were a soft one Lily.’
+
+To which she only answered, ‘We shall see knowing that in his present
+state of mind he would only set down the hopeful tokens that she
+perceived either to hypocrisy on the girl’s side, or weakness on hers.
+
+Dolores had indeed gone with the others rather because she could
+not bear remaining to see her uncle’s altered looks than because she
+expected much pleasure. And she had the satisfaction of sitting by
+Mysie, and holding her hand, which had become a very great comfort
+in her forlorn state--so great that she forebore to hurt her cousin’s
+feelings by discoursing of the dissolving views she had seen at a London
+party. Also she exacted a promise that this station should always be
+hers.
+
+Mysie, on her side, was in some of the difficulties of a popular
+character, for Fly felt herself deserted, and attacked her on the first
+opportunity.
+
+‘What does make you always go after Dolly instead of me, Mysie? Do you
+like her so much better?’
+
+‘Oh no! but you have them all, and she has nobody.’
+
+‘Well, but she has been so horridly naughty, hasn’t she?’
+
+‘I don’t think she meant it.’
+
+‘One never does. At least, I’m sure I don’t--and mamma always says it is
+nonsense to say that.’
+
+‘I’m not sure whether it is always,’ said Mysie, thoughtfully, ‘for
+sometimes one does worse than one knows. Once I made a mouse-trap of a
+beautiful large sheet of bluey paper, and it turned out to be an order
+come down to papa. Mamma and Alethea gummed it up as well as ever they
+could again, but all the officers had to know what had happened to it.’
+
+‘And were you punished?’
+
+‘I was not allowed to go into papa’s room without one of the elder ones
+till after my next birthday, but that wasn’t so bad as papa’s being so
+vexed, and everybody knowing it; and Major Denny would talk about mice
+and mouse-traps every time he saw me till I quite hated my name.’
+
+‘And I’m sure you didn’t mean to cut up an important paper.’
+
+‘No; but I did do a little wrong, for we had no leave to take anything
+not quite in the waste basket, and this had been blown off the table,
+and was on the floor outside. They didn’t punish me so much I think
+because of that. Papa said it was partly his own fault for not securing
+it when he was called off. You see little wrongs that one knows turn
+out great wrongs that one would never think of, and that is so very
+dreadful, and makes me so very sorry for Dolores.’
+
+‘I didn’t think you would like a cross, naughty girl like that more than
+your own Fly.’
+
+‘No, no! Fly, don’t say that. I don’t really like her half so well, you
+know, only if you would help me to be kind to her.’
+
+‘I am sure my mother wouldn’t wish me to have anything to do with her.
+I don’t think she would have let me come here if she had known what sort
+of girl she is.’
+
+‘But your papa knew when he left you--’
+
+‘Oh, papa! yes; but he can never see anything amiss in a Mohun; I
+heard her say so. And he wants me to be friends with you; dear, darling
+friends like him and your Uncle Claude, Mysie, so you must be, and not
+be always after that Dolores.’
+
+‘I want to be friends with both. One can have two friends.’
+
+‘No! no! no! not two best friends. And you are my best friend, Mysie,
+ever so much better than Alberta Fitzhugh, if only you’ll come always to
+me this little time when I’m here, and sit by me instead of that Dolly.’
+
+‘I do love you very much, Fly.’
+
+‘And you’ll sit by me at the penny reading to-night?’
+
+‘I promised Dolly. But she may sit on the other side.’
+
+‘No,’ said Phyllis, with jealous perverseness. ‘I don’t care if that
+Dolly is to be on the other side, you’ll talk to nobody but her! Now,
+Mysie, I had been writing to ask daddy to let you come home with me, you
+yourself, to the Butterfly’s Ball, but if you won’t sit by me, you may
+stay with your dear Dolores.’
+
+‘Oh, Fly! When you know I promised, and there is the other side.’
+
+But Fly had been courted enough by all the cousinhood to have become
+exacting and displeased at having any rival to the honour of her
+hand--so she pouted and said, ‘I don’t care about it, if you have her. I
+shall sit between Val and Jasper.’
+
+One must be thirteen, with a dash of the sentiment of a budding
+friendship, to enter into all that ‘sitting by’ involves; and in Mysie’s
+case, here was her compassionate promise standing not only between
+her and the avowed preference of one so charming as Fly, but possibly
+depriving her of the chances of the wonders of the Butterfly’s Ball. No
+wonder that disconsolate tears came into her eyes as she uttered another
+pleading, ‘Oh, Fly, how can you?’
+
+‘You must choose,’ said the offended young lady; ‘you can’t have us
+both.’
+
+To which argument she stuck, being offended as well as scandalized at
+being set aside for such a culprit as Dolores, whose misdemeanours and
+discourtesy were equally shocking to her imagination.
+
+Mysie could confide her troubles to no one, for she was aware that
+caring about sitting together was treated by the elders as egregious
+folly; but a promise was a promise with her, and she held staunchly to
+her purpose, though between Dolores and Miss Vincent she lost all those
+delightful asides which enhanced the charms of the amusing parts of the
+penny reading and beguiled the duller ones--of which there were many,
+since it was more concert than penny reading, people being rather shy of
+committing themselves to reading--Hal, Mr. Pollock and the schoolmaster
+being the only volunteers in that line.
+
+Gillian had, sorely against the grain, to play a duet with Constance
+Hacket. The two young ladies had met one another with freezing civility
+in the classroom, and to those who understood matters, the stiffness of
+their necks and shoulders, as they sat at the piano, spoke unutterable
+things. But there had never been any real liking between Constance and
+the younger Merrifields, and the mother did not trouble herself much
+about this, knowing that the vexation of the elder sister, about whom
+she did care, would pass off with friendly intercourse.
+
+Fly’s displeasure did not last long, for Mysie bad more attractions for
+her than any one else, and she was a good-humoured creature. There was a
+joyous Twelfth-Night, with home-made cake and home-characters, prepared
+by mamma and Gillian, and followed up by games, in which Dolores had
+a share, promoted by her aunt, who was very anxious to keep her from
+feeling set apart from every one; but this was difficult to manage, as
+she was so generally disliked, that even Gillian was only good-natured
+to her in accordance with her mother’s desire that she should not be
+treated as ‘out of the pale of humanity.’ Mysie alone sought her out and
+brought her forward with any real earnestness, and good little Mysie
+had a somewhat difficult part to play between kindness to her and Fly’s
+occasional little jealous tiffs and decided disapproval. Mysie never
+thought, however, about the situation or its difficulties, she simply
+followed the moment’s call of kindness to Dolores, and, when it was
+possible, followed her own inclinations, and enjoyed Fly’s lively
+society.
+
+And Dolores was certainly softening and improving. A word to Mrs.
+Halfpenny had secured the two girls being permitted to say their prayers
+together in Dolores’s room unmolested; and what was a reality to a
+contemporary became less and less to Dolores a mere lesson imposed by
+the authority of an elder. That link between religious instruction and
+daily life, which is all important, yet so difficult to find, was being
+gradually put into Dolores’s hands by her little cousin-friend. Lady
+Merrifield hoped and guessed it might be thus, from the questions that
+Mysie asked her at times, and from the quickened attention Dolores
+showed to her religious lessons, and her less dull and indifferent air
+at church.
+
+It could not be said that she was different with the others. She was
+depressed, and wanted spirits for enjoyment, nor would active romping
+diversions ever be pleasant to her. She had not the nature for them,
+and was not young enough to learn to like them. It could not but seem
+foolish to her to race about as a Croat or a savage, and she only beheld
+with wonder Gillian’s genuine delight in games not merely entered into
+for the sake of the little ones. But there was a strong devotion growing
+up in her to her aunt and to Mysie, and what they asked of her she
+did--even when on a wet day her aunt condemned her to learn battledore
+and shuttle-cock of Gillian, who was equally to be pitied for the
+awkwardness of her pupil and the banter of her brothers, while Dolly
+picked up her shuttlecock and tossed it off with grim determination, as
+if doing penance for this dismal half hour. She managed better in the
+games where ready sharpness of intellect or memory was wanted, and she
+liked these, and would have liked them still better if Uncle Reginald
+had not always looked astonished if she laughed.
+
+She did her part, too, in the little play, being one of the chorus
+of the maidens who ‘make a vow to make a row.’ Lady Merrifield had,
+according to the general request, saved disputes by casting the parts,
+Gillian being the sage old woman who brought the damsels to reason. Fly,
+the prime mover of the tumult, and Mysie, her confidante, while Val and
+Dolly made up the mob. A little manipulation of skirts, tennis-aprons,
+ribbons, and caps made very nice peasant costumes. Hal was the
+self-important Bailli, and Jasper the drummer, the part of gens-d’armes
+being all that Wilfred and Fergus could be trusted with.
+
+Lord Rotherwood came back, and his little daughter’s ecstacy was goodly
+to see, as she danced about her daddy, almost bursting with the secret
+of what he was to see after dinner, and showing herself so brilliantly
+well and happy that he congratulated himself upon her mother’s
+satisfaction.
+
+While the elders were at dinner, Gillian, with Miss Vincent’s help,
+finished off the arrangements. There were no outsiders, except the Vicar
+and Mr. Pollock who had been asked to dinner, for Lady Merrifield said
+she never liked to make her children an exhibition.
+
+‘You are an old-fashioned Lily,’ said her cousin, ‘and happily not
+concerned with popularity. It is a fine thing to be able to consult
+one’s children’s absolute best.’
+
+The performance went off beautifully--at least so thought both actors
+and spectators. The dignity of the Bailli and the meddling of the
+drummer were alike delightful; Fly was charmingly arch and mutinous;
+Mysie very straightforward; and the least successful personation was
+that of Gillian, who had a fit of stage-fright, forgot sentences, and
+whirred her spinning-wheel nervously, all the worse for being scolded by
+her brothers behind the scenes, and assured that she was making a mull
+of the whole affair. And she had been so spirited at the rehearsals,
+but she was at a self-conscious age, and could not forget the four
+spectators. Very little was required of Dolores, but that little she
+did simply and well, and Lord Rotherwood, after watching her all the
+evening, observed to Lady Merrifield, ‘I should say your difficulties
+were diminishing, are they not? The thunder-cloud seems to be a little
+lightened.’
+
+‘I am so glad you think so, Rotherwood. I feel sure that all this
+distress has drawn her nearer to us, only Regie won’t believe it.’
+
+‘Regie is prejudiced.’
+
+‘Is he? I thought him specially fond of Maurice’s child, and that this
+was revulsion of feeling; but what I am afraid of is, that he will never
+believe in her or like her again, whatever she may be, and she is really
+fond of him.’
+
+‘Yes, Reginald is not over disposed to believe in any woman’s
+truth--outside his own family and sisters. Poor fellow! I can’t say he
+was well used.’
+
+‘What? I suppose he has bad his romance like other people--his little
+episode, as my husband calls it.’
+
+‘Yes; and I am afraid we were accountable for it. You remember we were
+at Harthope Castle for the first two years after I was married, while
+Rotherwood was brought up to the requirements of the Victorian age.
+
+The --th was quartered at Harfield, within easy distance, and a splendid
+looking fellow like Regie was invaluable to Victoria, whenever she
+wanted anything to go off well. Well, in those days I had a ward, my
+mother’s great niece, Maude Conway. A pretty winsome creature it was,
+and an heiress in a moderate sort of way, and poor old Redge, after all
+his little affairs, and he had had his share of them, was evidently in
+for it at last. Victoria thought, as well as myself, it was the best
+thing for them both. He was the sound-hearted, good fellow to keep her
+matters straight, and she had enough for comfort without overweighting
+the balance. So they were engaged but unluckily they had to wait till
+she was of age, about eight months off, and they were both ridiculously
+shy, and would not have the thing known, though Victoria said it was
+unwise. I don’t think even Jane suspected it.’
+
+‘No; I don’t think she could have done so.’
+
+‘Well, there was the season, and Victoria was not in condition for going
+out, and Maude was all for staying quietly with her; but old Lady Conway
+came about--a regular schemer--a woman I never could abide. She had
+married off her own daughters, and wanted her niece to practise on, that
+was the fact. Victoria says she always knew that she, Maude I mean, was
+very impressionable and impulsive, and so she wanted to have her out of
+harm’s way; but one could not prevent her aunt from getting hold of her
+and taking her out. Then people told us of her goings on with that scamp
+Clanmacklosky and that sister of his. Victoria talked to her by the
+yard, but she denied it, and we thought it all gossip. Regie came up for
+a couple of nights, and she was as sweet on him as ever, and sent him
+away thinking it all right; but the end of it was, she fought off going
+down to Rotherwood with us, but went to Brighton with Lady Conway, and
+the next thing we heard was that she wrote to throw Reginald over, and
+she married Clanmacklosky a month after she was twenty-one! I don’t
+think I ever saw Victoria so cut up, for we had really liked the girl
+and thought well of her. To this hour I believe it was all that woman’s
+doing, and that poor Maude has supped sorrow. She has lost all her good
+looks.’
+
+‘And Regie has never got over it?’
+
+‘Not so as to believe in a woman again.’
+
+‘He used to be rather a joke for susceptibility, and was still a regular
+boy when we went out to Gibraltar. I thought him much graver.’
+
+‘Exactly; since that affair his soul has gone into his regiment. It’s a
+wife to him, and luckily he got his promotion in time, so as not to be
+shelved.’
+
+‘I suppose it was really an escape.’
+
+‘I don’t know--she would have done very well in his hands. She is the
+sort of woman to be as you make her, and even now is a world too good
+for Clan. Victoria can never be quite cordial with her, but I can’t see
+the poor harassed thing without thinking what a sweet creature she once
+was, and wishing I’d had the sense to look after her better. But what
+I came here for, Lily, was to say you must let me have that Mysie of
+yours, since you won’t come yourself to this concern of ours. I’m afraid
+you won’t think much good has come of us, but we couldn’t do the Country
+Mouse much harm in a fortnight; and you know it is the wish of my heart
+that my lonely Fly should grow up on such terms with your flock as
+Florence and I did with you all.’
+
+He pleaded quite piteously, and he was backed up by a letter from his
+wife, very grateful for her little Phyllis’s happy visit, reiterating
+the invitation to Lady Merrifield, and begging that if she still could
+not come herself, she would at least send Jasper and Mysie for the
+Butterfly’s Ball. Mysie’s fancy dress would be ready for her, only
+waiting for the final touches after it was tried on. Lady Florence
+Devereux, too, was near at hand, and wrote to promise to look after
+Mysie.
+
+There was no refusing after this. Lady Florence was not far from being
+like a sister to her cousins. She had tended her mother’s old age, and
+had subsequently settled down into the lady of all work of Rotherwood
+parish. Lady Merrifield had much confidence in her, and indeed all she
+saw of Fly gave her a great respect for Lady Rotherwood’s management
+of her child. Harry was going to his uncle’s at Beechcroft for some
+shooting, and would bring Mysie home when Jasper went back to school.
+
+So Gillian was called to her mother’s room to be told first of the
+arrangement, which certainly in some aspects was rather hard on her.
+
+‘I could not help it, my dear,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘without
+absolutely asking for an invitation for you.’
+
+‘No, mamma; and it is Mysie who is Fly’s friend, being the same age and
+all. It is quite right, and I understand it.’
+
+‘My dear, I am so glad I can do such a thing as this. If there were
+small jealousies among you, I could not venture on letting you be set
+aside, for I know the disappointment was quite as great to you as to
+Mysie, when we gave it up.’
+
+‘But she was better about it than I,’ said Gillian; ‘mamma, your
+trusting me in that way is better than a dozen balls. Besides, I know
+I should hate being there without you; I’m a great old thing, as Jasper
+says, neither fish nor fowl, you know, not come out, and not a little
+girl in the schoolroom, and it would be very horrid going to a grand
+place like that on one’s own account.’
+
+‘That’s right, Gillyflower. ‘Tis very wholesome to discover the sourness
+of the grapes. And as I think grandmamma is really coming, I shall want
+you at home, and to look after Dolores.’
+
+‘That’s the worst of it, mamma; I shall never get on with her as Mysie
+does.’
+
+‘We must do our best, for I do think really the poor child is
+improving.’
+
+‘Lessons will begin again! That’s one comfort,’ said Gillian, rather
+quaintly, thinking of the length of time that Dolores would thus be off
+her hands.
+
+‘And now call Mysie. I must speak to her.’
+
+As for Mysie, she was in a state of rapture. She knew her bliss before
+her mother had communicated it, for Lord Rotherwood could not refrain
+from telling his daughter that consent was gained, and Fly darted
+headlong to embrace Mysie, dance round her and rejoice. The boys
+declared that Mysie at once sprang into the air like a chamois, and that
+her head touched the ceiling, but this is believed to be a figment of
+Jasper’s.
+
+It was only on the summons to her mother’s room that Mysie discovered
+that Gillian was not going with her. It dimmed the lustre of her delight
+for a little while, ‘Oh, Gill, aren’t you very sorry? You ought to have
+had the first turn.’
+
+‘Never mind, Mysie, you are Fly’s friend,’--and the two sisters’ looks
+at one another at that moment were a real pleasure to their mother.
+
+Mysie was of a less shy nature than Gillian, as well as at a less
+awkward age, so that the visiting without her mother was less
+formidable, and she rushed about wild with delight; but Dolores was very
+disconsolate.
+
+‘Every one I care for goes away and changes,’ she said in her melancholy
+little sentiment.
+
+‘But it’s only for a fortnight, Dolly, I don’t think I could change so
+fast.’
+
+‘Oh yes, you will, among all those swells. You like Fly ever so much
+better than me.’
+
+Mysie looked grieved and puzzled, but then exclaimed, in the tone of a
+discovery, ‘There are different sorts of likings, Dolly, don’t you see.
+I do love Fly very much, but you know you are like a sort of almost twin
+sister to me. I like her best, but I care about you most!’
+
+With which curious distinction Dolores had to put up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. -- A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS.
+
+
+
+Colonel Mohun took Wilfred to his school, which began its term earlier
+than did Jasper’s, and Silver-ton was wonderfully quiet. The elder Mrs.
+Merrifield was not to come for nearly a week, so that it would have been
+possible for her daughter-in-law to go to the Rotherwood festivities
+without interfering with her visit, but this no one except Gillian and
+Mysie knew, and they kept the secret well.
+
+The departure of the boys was a great relief to Dolores. Her aunt did
+not rank her with Valetta and Fergus, but let her consort with herself
+and Gillian, and this suited her much better. Even Gillian allowed that
+she was ever so much nicer when there was no one to tease her. It was
+true that Jasper certainly, and perhaps Wilfred, would not have molested
+her if she had not offended the latter, and offered herself as fair
+game; but Gillian, who had to forestall and prevent their pranks, could
+not feel their absence quite the privation her sisterly spirit usually
+did!
+
+Valetta and Fergus were harmless without them, but they were forlorn,
+being so much used to having their sports led by their two seniors that
+they hardly knew what to do without them, and the entreaty, or rather
+the whine, ‘I want something to do,’ was heard unusually often. This led
+to Gillian’s being often called off to attend to them during the course
+of wet days that ensued, and thus Dolores was a good deal alone with her
+aunt, who was superintending her knitting a pair of silk stockings to
+send out to her father, it was hoped in time for his next birthday.
+
+At the first proposal, Dolores looked dull and unwilling, and at last
+she squeezed out, ‘I don’t think father will ever want me to do anything
+for him again.’
+
+‘My poor child, do you think a father does not forgive and love all the
+more one who is in deep sorrow for a fault?’
+
+‘I don’t think my letter seemed sorry! I was not half so sorry then as I
+am now,’ then at a kind word from her aunt her eyes overflowed, and she
+said, ‘No, I wasn’t; I didn’t know how good you were, or how bad I was!’
+
+And when Aunt Lily kissed her, she put her arms round the kind neck that
+bent down to her, and laid her head against it, as if it was quite a
+rest to feel that love. Her aunt encouraged her to write again to her
+father, and to try to express something of her grief and entreaty
+for forgiveness, and she was somewhat cheered after this; as though
+something of the load on her mind was removed. One day she brought down
+all the books in her room and said, ‘Please, Aunt Lily, look at them,
+and let them be with the rest in the schoolroom, I want to be just like
+the others.’
+
+Lady Merrifield was much pleased with this surrender. Some of the books
+were really well worth having and reading, indeed, the best of them
+she knew, but there were eight or ten which she suspected of being what
+Mysie called silly stories, and she kept them back to look over. She
+had been trying in this quiet interval to get Dolly to read something
+besides mere childish stories for recreation; and when she saw how well
+worn the story books were, and how untouched the ‘easy history,’ and the
+books about animals and foreign countries were, she saw why so clever a
+girl as Dolores seemed so stupid about everything she had not learnt as
+a lesson, and entirely ignorant of English poetry.
+
+Lady Merrifield read to her and Gillian in the evenings, and how they
+did enjoy it, and bemoaned the coming of grandmamma, to spoil their
+snugness and occupy ‘mamma.’ For Dolores began so to call Lady
+Merrifield. She had never so termed her own mother, and it seemed to
+her that with the words ‘Aunt Lily’ she put away all sorts of foolish,
+sinister feelings.
+
+‘Mrs. Merrifield was a wonderful old lady, brisk of mind and body,
+though of great age. She had been spending Christmas with her eldest
+son, the Admiral, at Stokesley, and was going to take on her way the
+daughter-in-law, of whom she knew but little in comparison; and with her
+she brought the granddaughter, Elizabeth Merrifield, who--since her own
+daughter had died--generally lived with her in London, to take care of
+her.
+
+‘It will be all company and horrid, and nobody will be allowed to make a
+noise!’ sighed Valetta to Fergus, as the waggonette, well shut up, drove
+to the door.
+
+‘There’s cousin Bessie,’ said Fergus.
+
+‘Oh, cousin Bessie is thirty-four, and that is as bad as being as old as
+grandmamma!’
+
+And they hung back while the old lady was helped out, and brought across
+the hall into the warm drawing-room before her fur cloak was taken off.
+There was a quiet little person with her, and Val whispered, ‘She’ll be
+just like Aunt Jane.’
+
+But the eyes that Bessie turned on her cousins were not at an like Aunt
+Jane’s little searching black ones. They were of a dark shade of grey,
+and had a wonderful softness and sweetness in them. Gillian knew her
+a little already, but very little, for there had always been the elder
+sisters at their former short meetings. Mamma lamented that there should
+be so few grandchildren at home to be shown, though, as she said, ‘the
+full number might have been too noisy.’
+
+Grandmamma shook her head. ‘I like the house full,’ she said, ‘I’m all
+right, but it is a pity to see the nest emptied, like Stokesley, now.
+Nobody left at home but Susan and little Sally! Make the most of them
+while you have them about you!’
+
+The old lady was quite delighted to find Primrose so nearly a baby, and
+to have one grandchild still quite as small or smaller than some of
+her great grandchildren whom she had never seen. Her great pleasure,
+however, soon proved to be in talking about her son Jasper, and hearing
+all his wife could tell her about his life in India; and as Lady
+Merrifield liked no other subject so well, they were very happy
+together, and quite absorbed.
+
+Meanwhile Bessie made herself a companion to Gillian and Dolores, and
+though so much older, seemed to consider herself as a girl like them.
+Then, living for the most part in town, she could talk about London
+matters to Dolly, and this was a great treat, while yet she had country
+tastes enough to suit Gillian, and was not in the least afraid of a
+long walk to the fir plantations to pick up Weymouth pine cones, and the
+still more precious pinaster ones.
+
+For the first time Gillian began to see Dolores as Uncle Reginald used
+to know her, free from that heavy mist of sullen dislike to everything
+and everybody. It seemed to bring them together, but, in spite of
+Bessie’s charms, they both continually missed Mysie, out of doors and
+in, in schoolroom and drawing-room, and, above all, in Dolly’s bedroom.
+She seemed to be, as Gillian told Bessie, ‘a sort of family cement,
+holding the two ends, big and little, together;’ and Bessie responded
+that her elder sister Susan was one of that sort.
+
+The evenings now were quite unlike the usual ones. Dinner was late, and
+the two girls came down to it. Afterwards the young ones sat round the
+fire in the hall, where Bessie, who was a wonderful story-teller, kept
+Fergus and Valetta quiet and delighted, either with invented tales or
+histories of the feats of her own brothers and sisters, who were so
+much older than their Silverton first cousins as to be like an elder
+generation.
+
+When the two young ones were gone to bed, the others came into the
+drawing-room, where mamma and grandmamma were to be found, either going
+over papa’s letters, or else Mrs. Merrifield talking about her Stokesley
+grandchildren, the same whose pranks Bessie had just been telling, so
+that it was not easy to believe in Sam, a captain in the navy. Harry
+and John farming in Canada, David working as a clergy-man in the Black
+Country, George in a government office, Anne a clergyman’s wife, and
+mother to the great grandchildren who were always being compared to
+Primrose, Susan keeping her father’s house, and Sarah, though as old as
+Alethea, still treated as the youngest--the child of the family.
+
+The bits of conversation came to the girls as they sat over their work,
+and Bessie would join in, and tell interesting things, till she saw that
+grandmamma was ready for her nap, and then one or other gave a little
+music, during which Dolly’s bed-time generally came.
+
+‘You can’t think how grateful I am to you for helping to brighten up
+that poor child in a wholesome way!’ said Lady Merrifield to Bessie,
+under cover of Gillian’s performance.
+
+‘One can’t help being very sorry for her,’ said Elizabeth, who knew what
+was hanging over Dolly.
+
+‘Yes, it is a terrible punishment, especially as she has a certain
+affection for her step-uncle, or whatever he should be called, for her
+mother’s sake. It really was a perplexed situation.’
+
+‘But why did she not consult you?’
+
+‘Do you know, I think I have found out. She held aloof from us all,
+and treated us--especially me--as if we were her natural enemies, and
+I never could guess what was the reason till the other day; she
+voluntarily gave me up all her books to be looked over and put into the
+common stock, which you saw in the schoolroom.’
+
+‘You look over all the children’s books?’
+
+‘Yes. While we were wandering, they did not get enough to make it a very
+arduous task, and now I find that they want weeding. If children read
+nothing but a multitude of stories rather beneath their capacity, they
+are likely never to exert themselves to anything beyond novel reading.’
+
+‘That is quite true, I believe.’
+
+‘Well, among this literature of Dolly’s I found no less than four
+stories based on the cruelty and injustice suffered by orphans from
+their aunts. The wicked step-mothers are gone out, and the barbarous
+aunts are come in. It is the stock subject. I really think it is cruel,
+considering that there are many children who have to be adopted into
+uncles’ families, to add to their distress and terror, by raising this
+prejudice. Just look at this one’--taking up Dolly’s favourite, ‘Clare;
+or No Home’--‘it is not at all badly written, which makes it all the
+worse.’
+
+‘Oh, Aunt Lilias,’ cried Bessie, whose colour had been rising all this
+time. ‘How shall I tell you? I wrote it!’
+
+‘You! I never guessed you did anything in that line.’
+
+‘We don’t talk about it. My father knows, and so does grandmamma, in a
+way; but I never bring it before her if I can help it, for she does not
+half like the notion. But, indeed, they aren’t all as bad as that! I
+know now there is a great deal of silly imitation in it; but I
+never thought of doing harm in this way. It is a punishment for
+thoughtlessness,’ cried poor Bessie, reddening desperately, and with
+tears in her eyes.
+
+‘My dear, I am so sorry I said it! If I bad not one of these aunts, I
+should think it a very effective story.’
+
+‘I’m afraid that’s so much the worse! Let me tell you about it, Aunt
+Lilias. At home, they always laughed at me for my turn for dismalities.’
+
+‘I believe one always has such a turn when one is young.’
+
+‘Well, when I went to live with grandmamma, it was very different from
+the houseful at home, I had so much time on my hands, and I took to
+dreaming and writing because I could not help it, and all my stories
+were fearfully doleful. I did not think of publishing them for ever so
+long, but at last when David terribly wanted some money for his mission
+church, I thought I would try, and this Clare was about the best. They
+took it, and gave me five pounds for it, and I was so pleased and never
+thought of its doing harm, and now I don’t know how much more mischief
+it may have done!’
+
+‘You only thought of piling up the agony! But don’t be unhappy about it.
+You don’t know how many aunts it may have warned.’
+
+‘I’m afraid aunts are not so impressionable as nieces. And, indeed,
+among ourselves story-books seemed quite outside from life, we never
+thought of getting any ideas from them any more than from Bluebeard.’
+
+‘So it has been with some of mine, while, on the other hand, Dolores
+seemed to Mysie an interesting story-book heroine--which indeed she is,
+rather too much so. But you have not stood still with Clare.’
+
+‘No, I hope I have grown rather more sensible. David set me to do
+stories for his lads, and, as he is dreadfully critical, it was very
+improving.’
+
+‘Did you write ‘Kate’s Jewel’? That is delightful. Aunt Jane gave it
+to Val this Christmas, and all of us have enjoyed it! We shall be quite
+proud of it--that is--may I tell the children?’
+
+‘Oh, aunt, you are very good to try to make me forget that miserable
+Clare. I wonder whether it will do any good to tell Dolores all about
+it. Only I can’t get at all the other girls I may have hurt.’
+
+‘Nay, Bessie, I think it most likely that Dolores would have been an
+uncomfortable damsel, even if Clare had remained in your brain. There
+were other causes, at any rate, here are three more persecuted nieces
+in her library. Besides, as you observed, everybody does not go to
+story-books for views of human nature, and happily, also, homeless
+children are commoner in books than out of them, so I don’t think the
+damage can be very extensive.’
+
+‘One such case is quite enough! Indeed, it is a great lesson to think
+whether what one writes can give any wrong notion.’
+
+‘I believe one always does begin with imitation.’
+
+‘Yes, it is extraordinary how little originality there is in the
+world. In the literature of my time, everybody had small hands and high
+foreheads, the girls wanted to do great things, and did, or did not do,
+little ones, and the boys all took first classes, and the fashion was
+to have violet eyes, so dark you could not tell their colour, and golden
+hair.’
+
+‘Whereas now the hair is apt to be bronze, whatever that may be like.’
+
+‘And all the dresses, and all the complexions, and all the lace, and all
+the roses, are creamy. Bessie, I hope you don’t deal in creaminess!’
+
+‘I’m afraid skim milk is more like me, and that you would say I had
+taken to the goody line. I never thought of the responsibility then,
+only when I wrote for David’s classes.’
+
+‘It is a responsibility, I suppose, in the way in which every word
+one speaks and every letter one writes is so. And now--here is Gillian
+finishing her piece. How far is it a secret, my dear.’
+
+‘It need not be so here, Aunt Lilias. Only my people are rather
+old-fashioned, you know, and are inclined to think it rather shocking of
+me, so it ought not to go beyond the family, and especially don’t ‘let
+her,’ indicating her grandmother, ‘hear about it. She knows I do such
+things--it would not be honest not to tell her--but it goes against the
+grain, and she has never heard one word of it all.’
+
+It appeared that Bessie daily read the psalms and lessons to grandmamma,
+followed up by a sermon. Then, with her wonderful eyes, Mrs. Merrifield
+read the newspaper from end to end, which lasted her till luncheon,
+then came a drive in the brougham, followed by a rest in her own room,
+dinner, and then Bessie read her to sleep with a book of travels or
+biography, of the old book-club class of her youth. Her principles were
+against novels, and the tale she viewed as only fit for children.
+
+Lady Merrifield could not help thinking what a dull life it must be for
+Bessie, a woman full of natural gifts and of great powers of enjoyment,
+accustomed to a country home and a large family, and she said something
+of the kind. ‘I did not like it at first,’ said Bessie, ‘but I have
+plenty of occupations now, besides all these companions that I’ve made
+for myself, or that came to me, for I think they come of themselves.’
+
+‘But what time have you to yourself?’
+
+‘Grandmamma does not want me till half-past ten in the morning, except
+for a little visit. And she does not mind my writing letters while she
+is reading the paper, provided I am ready to answer anything remarkable.
+I am quite the family newsmonger! Then there’s always from four to
+half-past six when I can go out if I like. There’s a dear old governess
+of ours living not far off, and we have nice little expeditions
+together. And you know it is nice to be at the family headquarters in
+London, and have every one dropping in.’
+
+‘Oh dear! how good you are to like going on like that,’ said Gillian,
+who had come up while this was passing; ‘I should eat my heart out; you
+must be made up of contentment.’
+
+Elizabeth held up her hand in warning lest her grandmother should be
+wakened, but she laughed and said, ‘My brothers would tell you I used to
+be Pipy Bet. But that dear old governess. Miss Fosbrook, was the
+making of me, and taught me how to be jolly like Mark Tapley among the
+rattlesnakes,’ she finished, looking drolly up to Gillian.
+
+‘And, Gill, you don’t know what Bessie has made her companions instead
+of the rattlesnakes,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘What do you think of
+“Kate’s Jewel?”’
+
+Gillian’s astonishment and rapture actually woke grandmamma; not
+that she made much noise, but there was a disturbing force about her
+excitement; and the subject had to be abandoned.
+
+As the great secret might be shared with Dolores, though not with the
+younger ones, whose discretion could not be depended upon, Gillian could
+enter upon it the more freely, though she was rather disappointed that
+an author was not such an extraordinary sight to Dolly as to herself.
+But it was charming to both that Bessie let them look at the proofs of
+the story she was publishing in a magazine; and allowed them as well as
+mamma, to read the manuscript of the tale, romance, or novel, whichever
+it was to be called, on which she wished for her aunt’s opinion.
+
+Bessie took care, when complying with the girls’ entreaty, that she
+would tell them all she had written; to observe that, she thought
+‘Clare’ a very foolish book indeed, and that she wished heartily she had
+never written it. Gillian asked why she had done it?
+
+‘Oh,’ said Dolores, ‘things aren’t interesting unless something horrid
+happens, or some one is frightened, or very miserable.’
+
+‘I like things best just and exactly as they really are--or were,’ said
+Gillian.
+
+‘The question between sensation and character,’ said Bessie to her aunt.
+‘I suppose that, on the whole, it is the few who are palpably affected
+by the mass of fiction in the world; but that it is needful to take
+good care that those few gather at least no harm from one’s work--to be
+faithful in it, in fact, like other things.’
+
+And there was no doubt that Bessie had been faithful in her work ever
+since she had realized her vocation. Her lending library books, written
+with a purpose, were excellent, and were already so much valued by
+Miss Hacket, that Gillian thought how once she should have felt it a
+privation not to be allowed to tell her whence they came; but to her
+surprise on the Sunday, instead of the constraint with which of late she
+had been treated at tea-time, the eager inquiry was made whether this
+was really the authoress, Miss Merrifield?
+
+Secrets are not kept as well as people think. The Hackets’ married
+sister was a neighbour of Bessie’s married sister, and through these
+ladies it had just come round, not only who was the author of ‘Charlie’s
+Whistle,’ etc., but that she wrote in the ---- Magazine, and was in the
+neighbourhood.
+
+All offences seemed to be forgotten in the burning desire for an
+introduction to this marvel of success. Constance had made the most of
+her opportunities in gazing at church; but if she called, would she be
+introduced?
+
+‘Of course,’ said Gillian, ‘if my cousin is in the room.’ She spoke
+rather coldly and gravely, and Miss Hacket exclaimed--
+
+‘I know we have been a little remiss, my dear, I hope Lady Merrifield
+was not offended.’
+
+‘Mamma is never offended,’ said Gillian--‘but, I do think, and so would
+she and all of us, that if Constance comes, she ought to treat Dolores
+Mohun--as--as usual.’
+
+The two sisters were silent, perhaps from sheer amazement at this
+outbreak of Gillian’s, who had never seemed particularly fond of her
+cousin. Gillian was quite as much surprised at herself, but something
+seemed to drive her on, with flaming cheeks. ‘Dolores is half
+broken-hearted about it all. She did not thoroughly know how wrong it
+was; and it does make her miserable that the one who went along with her
+in it should turn against her, and cut her and all.’
+
+‘Connie never meant to keep it up, I’m sure,’ said Miss Hacket; ‘but she
+was very much hurt.’
+
+‘So was Dolly,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘Is she so fond of me?’ said Constance, in a softened tone.
+
+‘She was,’ replied Gillian.
+
+‘I’m sure,’ said Miss Hacket, ‘our only wish is to forget and forgive as
+Christians. Lady Merrifield has behaved most handsomely, and it is
+our most earnest wish that this unfortunate transaction should be
+forgotten.’
+
+‘And I’m sure I’m willing to overlook it all,’ said Constance. ‘One must
+have scrapes, you know; but friendship will triumph over all.’
+
+Gillian did not exactly wish to unravel this fine sentiment, and was
+glad that the little G.F.S. maid came in with the tea.
+
+Lady Merrifield was a good deal diverted with Gillian’s report,
+and invited the two sisters to luncheon on the plea of their slight
+acquaintance with Anne--otherwise Mrs. Daventry--with a hint in the note
+not to compliment Mrs. Merrifield on Elizabeth’s production.
+
+Then Dolores had to be prepared to receive any advance from Constance.
+She looked disgusted at first, and then, when she heard that Gillian had
+spoken her mind, said, ‘I can’t think why you should care.’
+
+‘Of course I care, to have Constance behaving so ill to one of us.’
+
+‘Do you think me one of you, Gillian?’
+
+‘Who, what else are you?’
+
+And Dolores held up her face for a kiss, a heartier one than had ever
+passed between the cousins. There was no kiss between the quondam
+friends, but they shook hands with perfect civility, and no stranger
+would have guessed their former or their present terms from their
+manner. In fact, Constance was perfectly absorbed in the contemplation
+of the successful authoress, the object of her envy and veneration, and
+only wanted to forget all the unpleasantness connected with the dark
+head on the opposite side of the table.
+
+‘Oh Miss Merrifield,’ she asked, in an interval afterwards, when hats
+were being put on, ‘bow do you make them take your things?’
+
+‘I don’t know,’ said Bessie, smiling. ‘I take all the pains I can, and
+try to make them useful.’
+
+‘Useful, but that’s so dull--and the critics always laugh at things with
+a purpose.’
+
+‘But I don’t think that is a reason for not trying to do good, even in
+this very small and uncertain way. Indeed,’ she added, earnestly. ‘I
+have no right to speak, for I have made great mistakes; but I wanted to
+tell you that the one thing I did get published, which was not written
+conscientiously--as I may say--but only to work out a silly, sentimental
+fancy, has brought me pain and punishment by the harm I know I did.’
+
+This was a very new idea to Constance, and she actually carried it away
+with her. The visit had restored the usual terms of intercourse with the
+Hackets, though there was no resumption of intimacy such as there had
+been, between Constance and Dolores. It had, however, done much to make
+the latter feel that the others considered themselves one with them, and
+there was something that drew them together in the universal missing of
+Mysie, and eagerness for her letters.
+
+These were, however, rather disappointing. Mysie had not a genius for
+correspondence, and dealt in very bare facts. There was an enclosure
+which made Lady Merrifield somewhat anxious:
+
+
+‘My Dear Mamma, ‘This is for you all by yourself. I have been in sad
+mischief, for I broke the conservatory and a palm-tree with my umbrella;
+and I did still worse, for I broke my promise and told all about what
+you told me never to. I will tell you all when I come home, and I hope
+you will forgive me. I wish I was at home. It is very horrid when they
+say one is good and one knows one is not; but I am very happy, and Lord
+Rotherwood is nicer than ever, and so is Fly. ‘I am your affectionate
+and penitent and dutiful little daughter,
+
+‘MARIA MILLICENT MERRIFIELD.’
+
+
+With all mamma’s intuitive knowledge of her little daughter’s mind
+and forms of expression, she was puzzled by this note and the various
+fractures it described. She obeyed its injunctions of secrecy, even with
+regard to Gillian and Bessie, though she could not help wishing that the
+latter could have seen and judged of her Mysie.
+
+Grandmamma was somewhat disappointed to have missed her eldest grandson,
+but she was obliged to leave Silverton two days before his return with
+his little sister. She had certainly escaped the full tumult of the
+entire household, but Bessie observed that she suspected that it might
+have been preferred to the general quiescence.
+
+In spite of all the regrets that Bessie’s more coeval cousins, Alethea
+and Phyllis were not at home, she and her aunt each felt that a new
+friendship had been made, and that they understood each other, and
+Bessie had uttered her resolution henceforth always to think of the
+impression for good or evil produced on the readers, as well as of the
+effectiveness of her story. ‘Little did I suppose that ‘Clare’ would
+add to any one’s difficulties,’ she said, ‘still less to yours, Aunt
+Lilias.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. -- CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE.
+
+
+
+Here were the travellers at home again, and Mysie clinging to her
+mother, with, ‘Oh, Mamma!’ and a look of perfect rest. They arrived at
+the same time as Dolores had come, so late that Mysie was tired out,
+and only half awake. She was consigned to Mrs. Halfpenny after her first
+kiss, but as she passed along the corridor, a door was thrown back, and
+a white figure sprang upon her. ‘Oh, Mysie! Mysie!’ and in spite of the
+nurse’s chidings, held her fast in an embrace of delight. Dolores had
+been lying awake watching for her, and implored permission at least to
+look on while she was going to bed!
+
+Harry meanwhile related his experiences to his mother and Gillian over
+the supper-table. The Butterfly’s Ball had been a great success. He had
+never seen anything prettier in his life. Plants and lights had been
+judiciously disposed so as to make the hall a continuation of the
+conservatory, almost a fairy land, and the children in their costumes
+had been more like fairies than flesh and blood, pinafore and
+bread-and-butter beings. There was a most perfect tableau at the opening
+of the scenery constructed with moss and plants, so as to form a bower,
+where the Butterfly and Grasshopper, with their immediate attendants,
+welcomed their company, and afterwards formed the first quadrille, Lady
+Phyllis, with Mysie and two other little girls staying in the house,
+being the butterflies, and Lord Ivinghoe and three more boys of the same
+ages, the grasshoppers, in pages’ dresses of suitable colours.
+
+‘I never thought,’ said Harry, ‘that our little brown mouse would come
+out so pretty or so swell.’
+
+‘She wanted to be the dormouse,’ said Gillian.
+
+‘That was impracticable. They were all heath butterflies of different
+sorts, wings very correctly coloured and dresses to correspond. Phyllis
+the ringlet with the blue lining, Mysie, the blue one, little Lady
+Alberta, the orange-tip, and the other child the burnet moth.’
+
+‘How did Mysie dance?’
+
+‘Very fairly, if she had not looked so awfully serious. The
+dancing-mistress, French, of course, had trained them, it was more
+ballet than quadrille, and they looked uncommonly pretty. Uncle William
+granted that, though he grumbled at the whole concern as nonsense, and
+wondered you should send your nice little girl into it to have her head
+turned.’
+
+‘Do you think she was happy?’
+
+‘Oh, yes, of course. She always is, but she was in prodigious spirits
+when we started to come home. Lady Rotherwood said I was to tell you
+that no child could be more truthful and conscientious. Still somehow
+she did not look like the swells. Except that once, when she was got
+up regardless of expense for the ball, she always had the country mouse
+look about her. She hadn’t--’
+
+‘The ‘Jenny Say Caw,’ as Macrae calls it?’ said his mother. ‘Well, I can
+endure that! You need not look so disgusted, Gill. You didn’t hear of
+her getting into any scrape, did you?’
+
+‘No,’ said Hal. ‘Stay, I believe she did break some glass or other,
+and blurted out her confession in full assembly, but I was over at
+Beechcroft, and I am happy to say I didn’t see her.’
+
+Mysie’s tap came early to her mother’s door the next morning, and it was
+in the midst of her toilette that Lady Merrifield was called on to hear
+the confession that had been weighing on the little girl’s mind.
+
+‘I was too sleepy to tell you last night, mamma, but I did want to do
+so.’
+
+‘Well, then, my dear, begin at the beginning, for I could not understand
+your letter.’
+
+‘The beginning was, mamma, that we had just come in from our walk, and
+we went out into the schoolroom balcony, because we could see round the
+corner who was coming up the drive. And we began playing at camps, with
+umbrellas up as tents. Ivinghoe, and Alberta, and I. Ivy was general,
+and I was the sentry, with my umbrella shut up, and over my shoulder. I
+was the only one who knew how to present arms. I heard something coming,
+and called out, ‘Who goes there?’ and Alberta jumped up in such a hurry
+that the points other tent--her umbrella, I mean--scratched my face,
+and before I could recover arms, over went my umbrella, perpendicular,
+straight smash through the glass of the conservatory, and we heard it.’
+
+‘And what did you do? Of course you told!’
+
+“Oh yes! I jumped up and said, ‘I’ll go and tell Lady Rotherwood.’ I
+knew I must before I got into a fright, and Ivinghoe said I couldn’t
+then, and he would speak to his mother and make it easy for me, and Ply
+says he really meant it; but I thought then that’s the way the bad ones
+always get the others into concealments and lies. So I wouldn’t listen a
+moment, and I ran down, with him after me, saying, ‘Hear reason, Mysie.’
+And I ran full butt up against some-body--Lord Ormersfield it was,
+I found--but I didn’t know then. I only said something about begging
+pardon, and dashed on, and opened the door. I saw a whole lot of
+fine people all at five-o’clock tea, but I couldn’t stop to get more
+frightened, and I went up straight to Lady Rotherwood and said, ‘Please,
+I did it.’ Mamma do you think I ought not?”
+
+‘There are such things as fit places and times, my dear. What did she
+say?’
+
+“At first she just said, ‘My dear, I cannot attend to you now, run
+away;’ but then in the midst, a thought seemed to strike her, and she
+said, rather frightened, ‘Is any one hurt?’ and I said, Oh no; only
+my umbrella has gone right through the roof of the conservatory, and
+I thought I ought to come and tell her directly. ‘That was the noise,’
+said some of the people, and everybody got up and went to look. And
+there were Fly and Ivy, who had got in some other way, and the umbrella
+was sticking right upright in the top of one of those palm-trees with
+leaves like screens, and somebody said it was a new development of
+fruit. Lady Rotherwood asked them what they were doing there, and Ivy
+said they had come to see what harm was done. Dear Fly ran up to her and
+said, ‘We were all at play together, mother; it was not one more than
+another;’ but Lady Rotherwood only said, ‘That’s enough, Phyllis, I will
+come to you by-and-by in the schoolroom,’ and she would have sent us
+away if Cousin Rotherwood himself had not come in just then, and asked
+what was the matter. I heard some of the answers; they were very odd,
+mamma. One was, ‘A storm of umbrellas and of untimely confessions;’ and
+another was, ‘Truth in undress.’”
+
+‘Oh, my dear? I hope you were fit to be seen?’
+
+‘I forgot about that, mamma, I had taken off my ulster, and had my
+little scarlet flannel underbody, so as to make a better soldier.’
+
+‘Oh!’ groaned Lady Merrifield.
+
+‘And then that dear, good Fly gave a jump and flew at him, and said,
+‘Oh, daddy, daddy, it’s Mysie, and she has been telling the truth
+like--like Frank, or Sir Thomas More, or George Washington, or anybody.’
+She really did say so, mamma.’
+
+‘I can quite believe it of her, Mysie! And how did Cousin Rotherwood
+respond?’
+
+‘He sat down upon one of the seats, and took Fly on one knee and me on
+the other, though we were big for it--just like papa, you know--and made
+us tell him all about it. Lady Rotherwood got the others out of the
+way somehow--I don’t know how, for my back was that way, and I think
+Ivinghoe went after them, but there was some use in talking to Cousin
+Rotherwood; he has got some sense, and knows what one means, as if
+he was at the dear, nice playing age, and Ivinghoe was his stupid old
+father in a book.’
+
+‘Exactly,’ said Lady Merrifield, delighted, and longing to laugh.
+
+‘But that was the worst of it,’ said Mysie, sadly; ‘he was so nice that
+I said all sorts of things I didn’t mean or ought to have said. I told
+him I would pay for the glass if he would only wait till we had helped
+Dolores pay for those books that the cheque was for, because the man
+came alive again, after her wicked uncle said he was dead, and so
+somehow it all came out; how you made up to Miss Constance and couldn’t
+come to the Butterfly’s Ball for want of new dresses.’
+
+‘Oh, Mysie, you should not have said that! I thought you were to be
+trusted!’
+
+‘Yes, mamma, I know,’ said Mysie, meekly. ‘I recollected as soon as I
+had said it; and told him, and he kissed me and promised he would never
+tell anyone, and made Fly promise that she never would. But I have
+been so miserable about it ever since, mamma; I tried to write it in a
+letter, but I am afraid you didn’t half understand.’
+
+‘I only saw that something was on your mind, my dear. Now that is all
+over, I do not so much mind Cousin Rotherwood’s knowing, he has always
+been so like a brother; but I do hope both he and Fly will keep their
+word. I am more sorry for my little girl’s telling than about his
+knowing.’
+
+‘And Ivinghoe said my running in that way on all the company was worse
+than breaking the glass or the palm-tree. Was it, mamma?’
+
+‘Well, you know, Mysie, there is a time for all things, and very likely
+it vexed Lady Rotherwood more to be invaded by such a little wild colt.’
+
+‘But not Cousin Rotherwood himself, mamma,’ said Mysie, ‘for he said I
+was quite right, and an honourable little fellow, just like old times.
+And so I told Ivy. And he said in such a way, ‘Every one knew what his
+father was.’ So I told him his father was ten thousand times nicer than
+ever he would be if he lived a hundred years, and I could not bear him
+if he talked in that wicked, disrespectful way, and Fly kissed me for
+it, mamma, and said her daddy was worth a hundred of such a prig as he
+was.’
+
+‘My dear, I am afraid neither you nor Fly showed your good manners.’
+
+‘It was only Ivinghoe, mamma, and I’m sure I don’t care what he thinks,
+if he could talk of his father in that way. Isn’t it what you call
+metallical--no--ironical?’
+
+‘Indeed, Mysie, I don’t wonder it made you very angry, and I can’t be
+sorry you showed your indignation.’
+
+‘But please, mamma, what ought I to have done about the glass?’
+
+‘I don’t quite know; I think a very wise little girl might have gone to
+Cousin Florence’s room and consulted her. It would have been better than
+making an explosion before so many people. Florence was kind to you, I
+hope.’
+
+‘Oh yes, mamma, it was almost like being at home in her room; and she
+has such a dear little house at the end of the park.’
+
+A good deal more oozed out from Mysie to different auditors at different
+times. By her account everything was delightful, and yet mamma concluded
+that all had not absolutely fulfilled the paradisiacal expectation with
+which her country mouse had viewed Rotherwood from afar. Lady Rotherwood
+was very kind, and so was the governess, and Cousin Florence especially.
+Cousin Florence’s house felt just like a bit of home. It really was the
+dearest little house--and fluffy cat and kittens, and the sweetest
+love birds. It was perfectly delicious when they drank tea there, but
+unluckily she was not allowed to go thither without the governess or
+Louise, as it was all across the park, and a bit of village.
+
+And Fly? Oh, Fly was always dear and good and funny; but there was
+Alberta to be attended to, and other little girls sometimes, and it was
+not like having her here at home; nor was there any making a row in
+the galleries, nor playing at anything really jolly, though the great
+pillars in the hall seemed made for tying cords to make a spider’s web.
+It was always company, except when Cousin Rotherwood called them into
+his den for a little fun. But he had gentlemen to entertain most of the
+time, and the only day that he could have taken them to see the farm and
+the pheasants, Lady Rotherwood said that Phyllis was a little hoarse and
+must not get a cold before the ball.
+
+And as to the Butterfly’s Ball itself? Imagination had depicted a
+splendid realization of the verses, and it was flat to find it merely a
+children’s fancy ball, no acting at all, only dancing, and most of the
+children not attempting any characteristic dress, only with some insect
+attached to head or shoulder; nothing approaching to the fun of the
+rehearsal at Silverton, as indeed Fly had predicted. The only attempt
+at representation had cost Mysie more trouble than pleasure, for the
+training to dance together had been a difficult and wearisome business.
+Two of the grass-hoppers had been greatly displeased about it, and
+called it a beastly shame, words much shocking gentle Mysie from
+aristocratic lips. One of them had been as sulky, angry, and
+impracticable as possible, just like a log, and the other had consoled
+himself with all manner of tricks, especially upon the teacher and on
+Ivinghoe. He would skip like a real grasshopper, he made faces that set
+all laughing, he tripped Ivinghoe up, he uttered saucy speeches that
+Mysie considered too shocking to repeat, but which convulsed every one
+with laughter, Fly most especially, and her governess had punished her
+for it. ‘She would not punish me,’ said Mysie, ‘though I know I was just
+as bad, and I think that was a shame!’ At last the practising had to be
+carried on without the boys, and yet, when it came to the point, both
+the recusants behaved as well and danced as suitably as if they had
+submitted to the training like their sisters! And oh! the dressing, that
+was worse.
+
+‘I did not think I was so stupid,’ said Mysie, ‘but I heard Louise tell
+mademoiselle that I was trop bourgeoise, and mademoiselle answered that
+I was plutot petite paysanne, and would never have l’air de distinction.
+
+‘Abominable impertinence!’ cried Gillian.
+
+“They thought I did not understand,’ said Mysie, ‘and I knew it was
+fair to tell them, so I said, ‘Mais non, car je suis la petite souris de
+compagne.’”
+
+‘Well done, Mysie!’ cried her sister.
+
+‘They did jump, and Louise began apologizing in a perfect gabble, and
+mademoiselle said I had de l’esprit, but I am sure I did not mean it.’
+
+‘But how could they?’ exclaimed Gillian. ‘I’m sure Mysie looks like a
+lady, a gentleman’s child--I mean as much as Fly or any one else.’
+
+‘I trust you all look like gentlewomen, and are such in refinement and
+manners, but there is an air, which comes partly of birth, partly of
+breeding, and that none of you, except, perhaps, Alethea, can boast of,
+and about which papa and I don’t care one rush.’
+
+‘Has Fly got it, mamma?’ said Valetta. ‘She seemed like one of
+ourselves.’
+
+‘Oh, yes,’ put in Dolores. ‘It was what made me think her stuck up. I
+should have known her for a swell anywhere.’
+
+‘I’m sure Fly has no airs!’ exclaimed Val, hotly, and Gillian was ready
+to second her; but Lady Merrifield explained. ‘The absence of airs is
+one ingredient, Val, both in being ladylike, and in the distinction in
+which the maid justly perceived our Mouse to be deficient. Come, you
+foolish girls, don’t look concerned. Nobody but the maid would have ever
+let Mysie perceive the difference.’
+
+Mysie coloured and answered, ‘I don’t know; I saw the Fitzhughs look at
+me at first as if they did not think I belonged, and Ivinghoe was always
+so awfully polite that I thought he was laughing at me.’
+
+‘Ivinghoe must be horrid,’ broke out Valetta.
+
+‘The Fitzhughs said they would knock it out of him at Eton,’ returned
+Mysie. ‘They got very nice after the first day, and said Fly and I were
+twice as jolly fellows as he was.’
+
+It further appeared that Mysie had had plenty of partners at the ball,
+and on all occasions her full share of notice, the country neighbours
+welcoming her as her mother’s daughter, but most of them saying she
+was far more like her Aunt Phyllis than her own mother. The dancing and
+excitement so late at night had, however, tired her overmuch, she had
+cramp all the remainder of the night, could eat no breakfast the next
+day, and was quite miserable.
+
+‘I should like to have cried for you, mamma’ she said, ‘but they were
+all quite used to it, and not a bit tired. However, Cousin Florence came
+in, and she was so kind. She took me to the little west room, and made
+me lie on the sofa, and read to me till I went to sleep, and I was all
+right after dinner and had a ride on Fly’s old pony, Dormouse. She
+has the loveliest new one, all bay, with a black mane and tail, called
+Fairy, but Alberta had that. Oh it was so nice.’
+
+Altogether Lady Merrifield was satisfied that her little girl had not
+been spoilt for home by her taste of dissipation, though she did not
+hear the further confidence to Dolores in the twilight by the schoolroom
+fire.
+
+‘Do you know, Dolly, though Fly is such a darling, and they all wanted
+to be kind as well as they knew how, I came to understand how horrid you
+must have felt when you came among the whole lot of us.’
+
+‘But you knew Fly already?’
+
+‘That made it better, but I don’t like it. To feel one does not belong,
+and to be afraid to open a door for fear it should be somebody’s room,
+and not quite to know who every one is. Oh, dear! it is enough to make
+anybody cross and stupid. Oh, I am so glad to be back again.’
+
+‘I’m sure I am glad you are,’ and there was a little kissing match.
+‘You’ll always come to my room, won’t you? Do you know, when Constance
+came to luncheon, I only shook hands, I wouldn’t try to kiss her. Was
+that unforgiving?’
+
+‘I am sure I couldn’t,’ said Mysie; ‘did she try?’
+
+‘I don’t think so; I don’t think I ever could kiss her; for I never
+should have said what was not true without her, and that is what makes
+Uncle Reginald so angry still. He would not kiss me even when he
+went away. Oh, Mysie! that’s worse than anything,’ and Dolores’s face
+contracted with tears very near at hand. ‘I did always so love Uncle
+Regie, and he won’t forgive me, and father will be just the same.’
+
+‘Poor dear, dear Dolly,’ said Mysie, hugging her.
+
+‘But you know fathers always forgive, and we will try and make a little
+prayer about it, like the Prodigal Son’s, you know.’
+
+‘I don’t blow properly,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘I think I can say him,’ said Mysie, and the little girls sat with
+enfolded arms, while Mysie reverently went through the parable.
+
+‘But he had been very wicked indeed,’ objected Dolores, ‘what one calls
+dissipated. Isn’t that making too much of such things as girls like us
+can do.’
+
+‘I don’t know,’ said Mysie, knitting her young brows; ‘you see if we are
+as bad as ever we can be while we are at home, it is really and truly
+as bad in us ourselves as in shocking people that run away, because it
+shows we might have done anything if we had not been taken care of. And
+the poor son felt as if he could not be pardoned, which is just what you
+do feel.’
+
+‘Aunt Lily forgives me,’ said Dolores, wistfully.
+
+‘And your father will, I’m sure,’ said Mysie, ‘though he is yet a great
+way off. And as to Uncle Regie, I do wish something would happen that
+you could tell the truth about. If you had only broken the palm-tree
+instead of me, and I didn’t do right even about that! But if any
+mischief does happen, or accident, I promise you, Dolly, you shall have
+the telling of it, if you have had ever so little to do with it, and
+then mamma will write to Uncle Regie that you have proved yourself
+truthful.’
+
+Dolores did not seem much consoled by this curious promise, and Mysie’s
+childishness suddenly gave way to something deeper. ‘I suppose,’ she
+said, ‘if one is true, people find it out and trust one.’
+
+‘People can’t see into one,’ said Dolly.
+
+‘Mamma says there is a bright side and a dark side from which to look at
+everybody and everything,’ said Mysie.
+
+‘I know that,’ said Dolores; ‘I looked at the dark side of you all when
+I came here.’
+
+‘Some day,’ said Mysie, ‘your bright side will come round to Uncle
+Regie, as it has to us, you dear, dear old Dolly.’
+
+‘But do you know, Mysie,’ whispered Dolores, in her embrace, ‘there’s
+something more dreadful that I’m very much afraid of. Do you know
+there hasn’t been a letter from father since he was staying with Aunt
+Phyllis--not to me, nor Aunt Jane, nor anybody!’
+
+‘Well, he couldn’t write when he was at sea, I mean there wasn’t any
+post.’
+
+‘It would not take so long as this to get to Fiji; and besides. Uncle
+Regie telegraphed to ask about that dreadful cheque, and there hasn’t
+been any answer at all.’
+
+‘Perhaps he is gone about sailing somewhere in the Pacific Ocean; I
+heard Uncle William saying so to Cousin Rotherwood.’ He said, ‘Maurice
+is not a fellow to resist a cruise.’
+
+‘Then they are thinking about it. They are anxious.’
+
+‘Not very,’ said Mysie, ‘for they think he is sure to be gone on a
+cruise. They said something about his going down like a carpenter into
+the deep sea.’
+
+‘Making deep-sea soundings, like Dr. Carpenter! A carpenter, indeed!’
+said Dolores, laughing for a moment. ‘Oh! if it is that, I don’t mind.’
+
+The weight was lifted, but by-and-by, when the two girls said their
+prayers together, poor Dolores broke forth again, ‘Oh, Mysie, Mysie,
+your papa has all--all of you, besides mamma, to pray that he may be
+kept safe, and my father has only me, only horrid me, to pray for him,
+and even I have never cared to do it really till just lately! Oh, poor,
+poor father! And suppose he should be drowned, and never, never have
+forgiven me!’
+
+It was a trouble and misery that recurred night after night, though
+apparently it weighed much less during the day--and nobody but Mysie
+knew how much Dolores was suffering from it. Lady Merrifield was
+increasingly anxious as time went on, and still no mail brought letters
+from Mr. Mohun, but confidence based on his erratic habits, and the
+uncertainty of communication began to fail. And as she grieved more for
+the possible loss, she became more and more tender to her niece, and
+strange to say, in spite of the terror that gnawed so achingly every
+night, and of the ordeal that the Lent Assizes would bring, Dolores was
+happier and more peaceful than ever before at Silverton, and developed
+more of her bright side.
+
+‘I really think,’ wrote Lady Merrifield to Miss Mohun, ‘that she is
+growing more simple and child-like, poor little maid. She is apparently
+free from all our apprehensions about dear Maurice, and I would not
+inspire her with them for the world. Neither does she seem to dread
+the trial, as I do for her, nor to guess what cross-examination may be.
+Constance Hacket has been subpoenaed, and her sister expatiates on her
+nervousness. It is one comfort that Reginald must be there as a witness,
+so that it is not in the power of Irish disturbances to keep him from
+us! May we only be at ease about Maurice by that time!’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. -- IN COURT AND OUT.
+
+
+
+How Dolores’s heart beat when Colonel Mohun drove up to the door! She
+durst not run out to greet him among her cousins; but stood by her aunt,
+feeling hot and cold and trembling, in the doubt whether he would kiss
+her.
+
+Yes, she did feel his kiss, and Mysie looked at her in congratulation.
+But what did it mean? Was it only that it came as a matter of course,
+and he forgot to withhold it, or was it that he had given up hopes of
+her father, and was sorry for her? She could not make up her mind, for
+he came so late in the evening that she scarcely saw him before bedtime,
+and he did not take any special notice of her the next morning. He had
+done his best to save her from being long detained at Darminster, by
+ascertaining as nearly as possible when Flinders’s case would come on,
+and securing a room at the nearest inn, where she might await a summons
+into court. Lady Merrifield was going with them, but would not take
+either of her daughters, thinking that every home eye would be an
+additional distress, and that it was better that no one should see or
+remember Dolores as a witness.
+
+Miss Mohun met the party at the station, going off, however, with her
+brother into court, after having established Lady Merrifield and her
+niece in an inn parlour, where they kept as quiet as they could, by the
+help of knitting, and reading aloud. Lady Merrifield found that
+Dolores had been into court before, and knew enough about it to need no
+explanation or preparation, and being much afraid of causing agitation,
+she thought it best only to try to interest her in such tales as
+‘Neale’s Triumphs of the Cross,’ instead of letting her dwell on what
+she most dreaded, the sight of the prisoner, and the punishment her
+words might bring upon him.
+
+The morning ended, and Uncle Reginald brought word that his case would
+come on immediately after luncheon. This he shared with his sister
+and niece, saying that Jane had gone to a pastrycook’s with--with
+Rotherwood--thinking this best for Dolly. He seemed to be in strangely
+excited spirits, and was quite his old self to Dolores, tempting her to
+eat, and showing himself so entirely the kind uncle that she would have
+been quite cheered up if she had not been afraid that it was all out of
+pity, and that he knew something dreadful.
+
+Lord Rotherwood met them at the hotel entrance, and took his cousin
+on his arm; Dolores following with her uncle, was sure that she gave
+a great start at something that he said; but she had to turn in a
+different direction to wait under the charge of her uncle, who treated
+her as if she were far more childish and inexperienced in the ways of
+courts than she really was, and instructed her in much that she knew
+perfectly well; but it was too comfortable to have him kind to her for
+her to take the least offence, and she only said ‘Yes’ and ‘Thank you’
+at the proper places.
+
+The sheriff, meantime, had given Lord Rotherwood and Lady Merrifield
+seats near the judge, where Miss Mohun was already installed. Alfred
+Flinders was already at the bar, and for the first time Lady Merrifield
+saw his somewhat handsome but shifty-looking face and red beard, as
+the counsel for the prosecution was giving a detailed account of his
+embarrassed finances, and of his having obtained from the inexperienced
+kindness of a young lady, a mere child in age, who called him uncle,
+though without blood relationship, a draft of her father’s for seven
+pounds, which, when presented at the bank, had become one for seventy.
+
+As before, the presenting and cashing of the seventy pounds was sworn to
+by the banker’s clerk, and then Dolores Mary Mohun was called.
+
+There she stood, looking smaller than usual in her black, close-fitting
+dress and hat, in a place meant for grown people, her dark face pale and
+set, keeping her eyes as much as she could from the prisoner. When the
+counsel spoke she gave a little start, for she knew him, as one who had
+often spent an evening with her parents, in the cheerful times while
+her mother lived. There was something in the familiar glance of his eyes
+that encouraged her, though he looked so much altered by his wig and
+gown, and it seemed strange that he should question her, as a stranger,
+on her exact name and age, her father’s absence, the connection with the
+prisoner, and present residence. Then came:
+
+‘Did your father leave any money with you?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘What was the amount?’
+
+‘Five pounds for myself; seven besides.’
+
+‘In what form was the seven pounds?’
+
+‘A cheque from W.’s bank.’
+
+‘Did you part with it?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘To whom?’
+
+‘I sent it to him.’
+
+‘To whom if you please?’
+
+‘To Mr. Alfred Flinders.’ And her voice trembled.
+
+‘Can you tell me when you sent it away?’
+
+‘It was on the 22nd of December.’
+
+‘Is this the cheque?’
+
+‘It has been altered.’
+
+‘Explain in what manner?’
+
+‘There has ‘ty’ been put at the end of the written ‘seven,’ and a cipher
+after the figure 7 making it 70.’
+
+‘You are sure that it was not so when it went out of your possession?’
+
+‘Perfectly sure.’
+
+Mr. Calderwood seemed to have done with her, and said, ‘Thank you;’ but
+then there stood up a barrister, whom she suspected of being a man her
+mother had disliked, and she knew that the worst was coming when he
+said, in a specially polite voice too, ‘Allow me to ask whether the
+cheque in question had been intended by Mr. Mohun for the prisoner?’
+
+‘No.’
+
+‘Or was it given to you as pocket-money?’
+
+‘No, it was to pay a bill.’
+
+‘Then did you divert it from that purpose?’
+
+‘I thought the man was dead.’
+
+‘What man?’
+
+‘Professor Muhlwasser.’
+
+‘The creditor?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+Mr. Calderwood objected to these questions as irrelevant; but the
+prisoner’s counsel declared them to be essential, and the judge let
+him go on to extract from Dolores that the payment was intended for an
+expensive illustrated work on natural history, which was to be published
+in Germany. Her father had promised to take two copies of it if it were
+completed; but being doubtful whether this would ever be the case,
+he had preferred leaving a draft with her to letting the account be
+discharged by his brother, and he had reckoned that seven pounds would
+cover the expense.
+
+‘You say you supposed the author was dead. What reason had you for
+thinking so?’
+
+‘He told me; Mr. Flinders did.’
+
+‘Had Mr. Mohun sanctioned your applying this sum to any other purpose
+than that specified?’
+
+‘No, he had not. I did wrong,’ said Dolores, firmly.
+
+He wrinkled up his forehead, so that the point of his wig went upwards,
+and proceeded to inquire whether she had herself given the cheque to the
+prisoner.
+
+‘I sent it.’
+
+‘Did you post it?’
+
+‘Not myself. I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send it for me.’
+
+‘Can you swear to the sum for which it was drawn when you parted with
+it?’
+
+‘Yes. I looked at it to see whether it was pounds or guineas.’
+
+‘Did you give it loose or in an envelope?’
+
+‘In an envelope.’
+
+‘Was any other person aware of your doing so?’
+
+‘Nobody.’
+
+‘What led you to make this advance to the prisoner?’
+
+‘Because he told me that he was in great distress.’
+
+‘He told you. By letter or in person?’
+
+‘In person.’
+
+‘When did he tell you so?’
+
+‘On the 22nd of December.’
+
+‘And where?’
+
+‘At Darminster.’
+
+‘Let me ask whether this interview at Darminster took place with the
+knowledge of the lady with whom you reside?’
+
+‘No, it did not,’ said Dolores, colouring deeply.
+
+‘Was it a chance meeting?’
+
+‘No--by appointment.’
+
+‘How was the appointment made?’
+
+‘We wrote to say we would come that day.’
+
+‘We--who was the other party?’
+
+‘Miss Constance Hacket.’
+
+‘You were then in correspondence with the prisoner. Was it with the
+sanction of Lady Merrifield?’
+
+‘No.’
+
+‘A secret correspondence, then, romantically carried on--by what means?’
+
+‘Constance Hacket sent the letters and received them for me.’
+
+‘What was the motive for this arrangement?’
+
+‘I knew my aunt would prevent my having anything to do with him.’
+
+‘And you--excuse me--what interest had you in doing so?’
+
+‘My mother had been like his sister, and always helped him.’
+
+All these answers were made with a grave, resolute straightforwardness,
+generally with something of Dolores’s peculiar stony look, and only
+twice was there any involuntary token of feeling, when she blushed at
+confessing the concealment from her aunt, and at the last question, when
+her voice trembled as she spoke of her mother. She kept her eyes on her
+interrogators all the time, never once glancing towards the prisoner,
+though all the time she had a sensation as if his reproachful looks were
+piercing her through.
+
+She was dismissed, and Constance Hacket was brought in, looking about
+in every direction, carrying a handkerchief and scent bottle, and not
+attempting to conceal her flutter of agitation.
+
+Mr. Calderwood had nothing to ask her but about her having received the
+cheque from Miss Mohun and forwarded it to Flinders, though she could
+not answer for the date without a public computation back from Christmas
+Day, and forward from St. Thomas’s. As to the amount--
+
+‘Oh, yes, certainly, seven pounds.’
+
+Moreover she had posted it herself.
+
+Then came the cross-examination,
+
+‘Had she seen the draft before posting it?’
+
+‘Well--she really did not remember exactly.’
+
+‘How did she know the amount then?’
+
+‘Well, I think--yes--I think Dolores told me so.’
+
+‘You think,’ he said, in a sort of sneer. ‘On your oath. Do you know?’
+
+‘Yes, yes, yes. She assured me! I know something was said about seven.’
+
+‘Then you cannot swear to the contents of the envelope you forwarded?’
+
+‘I don’t know. It was all such a confusion and hurry.’
+
+‘Why so?’
+
+‘Oh! because it was a secret.’
+
+The counsel of course availed himself of this handle to elicit that the
+witness had conducted a secret correspondence between the prisoner
+and her young friend without the knowledge of the child’s natural
+protectors. ‘A perfect romance,’ he said, ‘I believe the prisoner is
+unmarried.’
+
+Perhaps this insinuation would have been checked, but before any one had
+time to interfere, Constance, blushing crimson, exclaimed, ‘Oh! Oh! I
+assure you it was not that. It was because she said he was her uncle and
+that they ill-used him.’
+
+This brought upon her the searching question whether the last witness
+had stated the prisoner to be really her uncle, and Constance replied,
+rather hotly, that she had always understood that he was.
+
+‘In fact, she gave you to understand that the prisoner was actually
+related to her by blood. Did you say that she also told you that he was
+persecuted or ill-used by her other relations?’
+
+‘I thought so. Yes, I am sure she said so.’
+
+‘And it was wholly and solely on these grounds that you assisted in this
+clandestine correspondence?’
+
+‘Why--yes--partly,’ faltered Constance, thinking of her literary
+efforts, ‘so it began.’
+
+There was a manifest inclination to laugh in the audience, who naturally
+thought her hesitation implied something very different; and the judge,
+thinking that there was no need to push her further, when Mr. Calderwood
+represented that all this did not bear on the matter, and was no
+evidence, silenced Mr. Yokes, and the witness was dismissed.
+
+The next point was that Colonel Reginald Mohun was called upon to attest
+that the handwriting was his brother’s. He answered for the main body
+of the draft, and the signature, but the additions, in which the forgery
+lay, were so slight that it was impossible to swear that they did not
+come from the hand of Maurice Mohun.
+
+‘Had application been made to Mr. Mohun on the subject?’
+
+‘Yes, Colonel Mohun had immediately telegraphed to him at the address in
+the Fiji Islands.’
+
+‘Has any answer been received?’
+
+‘No!’ but Colonel Mohun had a curious expression in his eyes, and Mr.
+Calderwood electrified the court by begging to call upon Mr. Maurice
+Mohun.
+
+There he was in the witness-box, looking sunburnt but vigorous. He
+replied immediately to the question that the cheque was his own, and
+that it had been left under his daughter’s charge, also that it had been
+for seven pounds, and the ‘ty’ and the cypher had never been written by
+him. The prisoner winced for a moment, and then looked at him defiantly.
+
+The connection with Alfred Flinders was inquired into and explained, and
+being asked as to the term ‘Uncle,’ he replied, ‘My daughter was allowed
+to get into the habit of so terming him.’
+
+The sisters saw his look of pain, and Jane remembered his strong
+objection to the title, and his wife’s indignant defence of it.
+
+Dolores stood trembling outside in the waiting-room, by her Uncle
+Reginald, from whom she heard that her father had come that morning from
+London with Lord Rotherwood, but that it had been thought better not to
+agitate her by letting her know of it before she gave her evidence.
+
+‘Has he had my letter?’ she asked.
+
+‘No; he knew nothing till he saw Rotherwood last night.’
+
+All the misery of writing the confession came back upon poor Dolores,
+and she turned quite white and sick, but her uncle said kindly, ‘Never
+mind, my dear, he was very much pleased with your manner of giving
+evidence. Such a contrast to your friend’s. Faugh!’
+
+In a few more seconds Mr. Mohun had come out. He took the cold,
+trembling hands in his own, pressed them close, met the anxious eyes
+with his own, full of moisture, and said, ‘My poor little girl,’ in a
+tone that somehow lightened Dolly’s heart of its worst dread.
+
+‘Will you go back into court?’ asked the colonel.
+
+‘You don’t wish it, Dolly?’ said her father.
+
+‘Oh no! please not.’
+
+‘Then,’ said the colonel, ‘take your father back to the room at the
+hotel, and we will come to you. I suppose this will not last much
+longer.’
+
+‘Probably not half an hour. I don’t want to see that fellow either
+convicted or acquitted.’
+
+Then Dolores found herself steered out of the passages and from among
+the people waiting or gazing, into the clearer space in the street, her
+father holding her hand as if she had been a little child. Neither of
+them spoke till they had reached the sitting-room, and there, the first
+thing he did when the door was shut, was to sit down, take her between
+his knees, put an arm round her, and kiss her, saying again, ‘My poor
+child!’
+
+‘You never got my letter!’ she said, leaning against him, feeling the
+peace and rest his embrace gave.
+
+‘No; but I have heard all. I should have warned you, Dolly; but I never
+imagined that he could get at you there; and I was unwilling to accuse
+one for whom your mother had a certain affection.’
+
+‘That was why I helped him,’ whispered Dolores.
+
+‘I knew it,’ he said kindly. ‘But how did he find you out, and how had
+he the impertinence to write to you at your Aunt Lily’s--’
+
+‘I wrote to him first,’ she said, hanging down her head.
+
+‘How was that? You surely had not been in the habit of doing so whilst I
+was at home.’
+
+‘No; but he came and spoke to me at Exeter, the day you went away. Uncle
+William was not there, he had gone into the town. And he--Mr. Flinders,
+said he was going down to see you, and was very much disappointed to
+hear that you were gone.’
+
+‘Did he ask you to write to him?’
+
+‘I don’t think he did. Father, it seems too silly now, but I was very
+angry because Aunt Lilias said she must see all my letters except yours
+and Maude Sefton’s, and I told Constance Hacket. She said she would send
+anything for me, and I could not think of any one I wanted to write to,
+so I wrote to--to him.’
+
+‘Ah! I saw you did not get on with your aunt,’ was the answer, ‘that was
+partly what brought me home.’ And either not hearing or not heeding
+her exclamation, ‘Oh, but now I do,’ he went on to explain that on his
+arrival at Fiji he had found that circumstances had altered there, and
+that the person with whom he was to have been associated had died, so
+that the whole scheme had been broken up. A still better appointment
+had, however, been offered to him in New Zealand, on the resignation
+of the present holder after a half-year’s notice, and he had at once
+written to accept it. A proposal had been made to him to spend the
+intermediate time in a scientific cruise among the Polynesian Islands;
+but the letters he had found awaiting him at Vanua Levu had convinced
+him that the arrangements he had made in England had been a mistake, and
+he had therefore hurried home via San Francisco, as fast as any letter
+could have gone, to wind up his English affairs, and fetch his daughter
+to the permanent home in Auckland, which her Aunt Phyllis would prepare
+for her.
+
+Her countenance betrayed a sudden dismay, which made him recollect that
+she was a strangely undemonstrative girl; but before she had recovered
+the shock so as to utter more than a long ‘Oh!’ they were interrupted by
+the cup of tea that had been ordered for Dolores, and in a minute more,
+steps were heard, and the two aunts were in the room. ‘Seven years,’
+were Jane’s first words, and ‘My dear Maurice,’ Lady Merrifield’s, ‘Oh!
+I wish I could have spared you this,’ and then among greetings came
+again, ‘Seven years,’ from the brother and cousin who had seen the
+traveller before.
+
+‘I’m glad you were not there, Maurice,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘It was
+dreadful.’
+
+‘I never saw a more insolent fellow!’ said Lord Rotherwood.
+
+‘That Yokes, you mean,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘I declare I think he is worse
+than Flinders!’
+
+‘That’s like you women, Jenny,’ returned the colonel; ‘you can’t
+understand that a man’s business is to get off his client!’
+
+‘When he gave him up as an honest man altogether!’ cried Lady
+Merrifield.
+
+‘And cast such imputations!’ exclaimed Aunt Jane. ‘I saw what the wretch
+was driving at all the time of the cross-examination; and if I’d been
+the judge, would not I have stopped him?’
+
+‘There you go. Lily and Jenny!’ said the colonel, ‘and Rotherwood just
+as bad! Why, Maurice would have had to take just the same line if he had
+been for the defence.’
+
+‘He would not have done it in such a blackguard fashion though,’ said
+Lord Rotherwood.
+
+‘I saw what his defence would be,’ said Mr. Mohun, briefly.
+
+‘There!’ said Colonel Mohun, with a boyish pleasure in confuting his
+sisters; but they were not subdued.
+
+‘Now Maurice,’ cried Jane, ‘when that man was known to be utterly
+dishonourable and good for nothing, was it fair--was it not contrary to
+all common sense--to try to cast the imputation between those two poor
+girls? So the judge and jury felt it, I am happy to say! but I call it
+abominable to have thrown out the mere suggestion--’
+
+‘Nay now, Jane,’ said the colonel, ‘if the man was to be defended at
+all, how else was it to be done?’
+
+‘I wouldn’t have had him defended at all! but, unfortunately, that’s his
+right as an Englishman.’
+
+‘That’s another thing! But as the cheque did not alter itself, one of
+the three must have done it, and nothing was left but to show that there
+had been an amount of shuffling, and--in short, nonsense--that might
+cast enough doubt on their evidence to make it insufficient for a
+conviction.’
+
+‘Reginald! I can’t think how you can stand up for such a wretch, a
+vulgar wretch,’ cried Miss Mohun. ‘You put it delicately, as a gentleman
+who had the misfortune to be counsel in such a case might do, but he was
+infinitely worse than that, though that was bad enough.’
+
+‘It was Yokes,’ put in Mr. Mohun; ‘but what did he say?’ looking
+anxiously at his daughter.
+
+‘It was not so bad about her,’ said her uncle, ‘he only made her out a
+foolish child, easily played upon by everybody, and possibly ignorant
+and frightened, or led away by her regard for her supposed relation. It
+was the other poor girl--
+
+‘The amiable susceptibilities of romantic young ladies!’ broke out Lady
+Merrifield. ‘Oh, the creature!’ To think of that poor foolish Constance
+sitting by to hear it represented that the expedition to Darminster, and
+all the rest of it, was because she was actually touched by that fellow.
+I really felt ready to take her part.’
+
+‘She had certainly brought it on herself,’ said Aunt Jane; ‘but it was
+atrocious of him and if the other counsel had only known it, he stopped
+the cross examination just at the wrong time, or it would have come out
+that it was literary vanity that was the lure. No doubt he would have
+made a laughing-stock of that, but it would not have been as bad as the
+other.’
+
+‘Poor thing,’ said Lady Merrifield; ‘it was a trying retribution for
+schoolgirl folly and want of conscientiousness. I should think she was a
+sadder and a wiser woman.’
+
+‘He must have overdone it,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘he is a vulgar fellow, and
+always does so; but, as Reginald says, the only available defence was
+to enhance the folly and sentiment of the girls; but of course the judge
+charged the other way--
+
+‘Entirely,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘he brought Dolly rather well out of
+it, saying that as he understood it, a young girl who had seen a needy
+connection assisted from her home might think herself justified in
+corresponding with him, and even in diverting to his use money left in
+her charge, when it was probable that it would not be required for the
+original object. He did not say it was right, but it was an error of
+judgment by no means implying swindling--in fact. He disposed of Miss
+Hacket in the same way--foolish, sentimental, unscrupulous, but not to
+that degree. Girls might be silly enough in all conscience, but not so
+as to commit forgery or perjury. That was the gist of it, and happily
+the jury were of the same opinion.’
+
+‘Happily? Well, I suppose so,’ said Mr. Mohun, with a certain
+sorrowfulness of tone, into which his little daughter entered.
+
+‘I say, Rotherwood,’ exclaimed the colonel, as the town clock’s two
+strokes for the half-hour echoed loudly, ‘if you mean to catch the 4.50,
+you must fly.’
+
+‘Fly!’ he coolly repeated. ‘Tell Mysie, Lily, that Fly has never ceased
+talking of her. That child has been saving her money to fit out one of
+Florence’s orphan’s. She--’
+
+‘Rotherwood,’ broke in Mr. Mohun, ‘your wife charged me to see that you
+were in time for that dinner. A ministerial one.’
+
+‘Don’t encourage him, Lily,’ chimed in the colonel. ‘I’ll call a cab.
+See him safe off, Maurice.’
+
+And off he was hunted amid the laughter of the ladies; the manner of all
+to one another was so exactly what it had been in the old times.
+
+‘I could hardly help telling him to take care, or Victoria would never
+let him out again,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘Poor old fellow, it would have
+been a fine chance for him with four of us together.’
+
+‘You can come back with us, Jenny!’
+
+‘I brought my bag in case of accidents.’
+
+‘And we’ll telegraph to Adeline to join us tomorrow,’ said Mr. Mohun,
+who seemed to have been seized with a hunger for the sight of his
+kindred.
+
+‘Telegraph! My dear Maurice, Ada’s nerves would be torn to smithereens
+by a telegram without me to open it for her. I’ve a card here to post to
+her; but I expect that I must go down tomorrow and fetch her, which will
+be the best way, for I have a meeting.’
+
+‘Jenny, I declare you are a caution even to Miss Hacket,’ said Colonel
+Reginald, re-entering.
+
+‘Well, Ada always was the family pet. Besides, I told you I had a G.F.S.
+meeting. Did you get a cab for us; Lily has had quite walking enough.’
+
+The ladies went in a cab, while the gentlemen walked. There was not much
+time to spare, and in the compartment into which the first comers
+threw themselves, they found both the Hacket sisters installed, and the
+gentlemen coming up in haste, nodded and got into a smoking-carriage, on
+seeing how theirs was occupied.
+
+‘Oh, we could have made room,’ said Constance, to whom a gentleman was a
+gentleman under whatever circumstances.
+
+‘Dear Miss Dolores’s papa! Is it indeed?’ said Miss Hacket.
+
+‘So wonderfully interesting,’ chimed in Constance. And they both made a
+dart at Dolores to kiss her in congratulation, much against her will.
+
+The train clattered on, and Lady Merrifield hoped it would hush all
+other voices, but neither of the Hackets could refrain from discussing
+the trial, and heaping such unmitigated censure on the counsel for the
+prisoner, that Miss Mohun felt herself constrained to fly in the face of
+all she had said at the hotel, and to maintain the right of even such an
+Englishman to be defended, and of his advocate to prevent his conviction
+if possible. On which the regular sentiment against becoming lawyers was
+produced, and the subject might have been dropped if Constance had
+not broken out again, as if she could not leave it. ‘So atrocious, so
+abominably insolent, asking if he was unmarried.’
+
+‘Evidently flattered!’ muttered Aunt Jane, between her teeth, and
+unheard; but the speed slackened, and Constance’s voice went on,
+
+‘I really thought I should have died of it on the spot. The bare idea of
+thinking I could endure such a being.’
+
+‘Well,’ said Dolores, just as the clatter ceased at a little station.
+‘You know you did walk up and down with him ever so long, and I am sure
+you liked him very much.’
+
+An indignant ‘You don’t understand’ was absolutely cut off by an
+imperative grasp and hush from Miss Hacket the elder; Aunt Jane was
+suffocating with laughter, Lady Merrifield, between that and a certain
+shame for womanhood, which made her begin to talk at random about
+anything or everything else.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. -- NAY.
+
+
+
+‘What a mull they have made of it!’ were Mr. Maurice Mohun’s first words
+when he found the compartment free for a tete-a-tete with his brother.
+
+‘All’s well that ends well,’ was the brief reply.
+
+‘Well, indeed! Mary would not have thought so.’ To which the colonel had
+nothing to say.
+
+‘It serves me out,’ his brother went on presently. ‘I ought to have done
+something for that wretched fellow before I went, or, at any rate, have
+put Dolly on her guard; but I always shirked the very thought of him.’
+
+‘Nothing would have kept him out of harm’s way.’
+
+‘It might have kept the child; but she must have been thicker with him
+than I ever knew. However I shall have her with me for the future, and
+in better hands.’
+
+‘You really mean to take her out?’
+
+‘That’s what brought me home. She isn’t happy; that is plain from her
+letters; and Jane does not know what to make of her, nor Lilias either.’
+
+‘When were your last letters dated?’
+
+‘The last week in September.’
+
+‘Early days,’ muttered the colonel.
+
+‘I thought it an experiment, you know; but you said so much about Lily’s
+girls being patterns, that I thought Jasper Merrifield might have made
+her more rational and less flighty, and all that sort of thing; but of
+course it was a very different tone from what the child was used to, and
+you couldn’t tell what the young barbarians were out of sight.’
+
+‘So I began to think last winter; but I fancy you will find that she and
+Lily understand one another a good deal better than they did at first.’
+
+‘I thought she did not receive my intelligence as a deliverance. I am
+glad if she can carry away an affectionate remembrance, but I want to
+have her under my own eye.’
+
+‘I suppose that’s all right,’ was the half reluctant reply.
+
+‘There’s Phyllis. She is full of good sense, with no nonsense about her
+or May, and her girls are downright charming.’
+
+‘Very likely; but I say, Maurice, you must not underrate Lilias. She has
+gone through a good deal with Dolores, and I believe she has been the
+making of her. You’ve had to leave the poor child a good deal to herself
+and Fraulein, and, as you see by this affair, she had some ways that
+made it hard for Lily to deal with her at first.’
+
+Her father plainly did not like this. ‘There was no harm in the poor
+child, but as I should have foreseen, there’s always an atmosphere of
+sentiment and ritual and flummery about Lilias, totally different from
+what she was used to.’
+
+Colonel Mohun had nearly said, ‘So much the better,’ but turned it into,
+‘I think you will change your opinion.’
+
+Brothers and sisters, and cousins, whatever they may be to the external
+world, always remain relatively to each other pretty much as they knew
+one another when a single home held them all. The familiar Christian
+names seemed to revive the old ways, and it was amusing to see the
+somewhat grave and silent colonel treated by his elder brother as the
+dashing, heedless boy, needing to be looked after, while his sister Jane
+remained the ready helper and counsellor, and Lady Merrifield was
+still in his eyes the unpractical, fanciful Lily with an unfortunately
+suggestive rhyme to her name.
+
+Perhaps it maintained him in this opinion, that when he had answered
+all questions about Captain and Mrs. Harry May, and had dilated on their
+pretty house in the suburbs of Auckland, his sisters expected him to
+tell of the work of the Church among the Maoris and Fijians. He laughed
+at them for thinking colonists troubled their heads about natives.
+
+‘I know Phyllis does. One of Harry May’s brothers went out as a
+missionary.’
+
+‘Disenchanted and came home again when his wife came into a fortune.’
+
+‘Not a bit of it,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘I know him and all about him. He
+stayed till his health broke, and now he is one of the most useful men
+in the country. He is coming to speak for the S.P.G. at Rockquay, Lily;
+and you must come and meet him and his charming wife. They will tell you
+a very different story about Harry’s doings.’
+
+‘Well,’ allowed Mr. Mohun, ‘there are apparitions of brown niggers
+done up as smart as twopence prancing about the house. Perfectly
+uninteresting, you know, the savage sophisticated out of his
+picturesqueness. I made a point of asking no questions, not knowing what
+I might be let in for.’
+
+‘Then you heard nothing of Mr. Ward, the Melanesian missionary, whom
+Phyllis keeps a room for when he comes to New Zealand to recruit.’
+
+‘The man who was convicted of murder on circumstantial evidence! Oh yes.
+I heard of him. I believe the labour-traffic agents heartily wish him at
+Portland still, he makes the natives so much too sharp.’
+
+‘Aye,’ said the colonel, ‘as long as Britons aren’t slaves they have no
+objection to anything but the name for other people.’
+
+‘Wait till you get out there, Regie, and see what they all say about
+those lazy fellows--except, of course, ladies and parsons, and a few
+whom they’ve bitten, like May.’
+
+‘The few are on the Christian side, of course,’ said Lady Merrifield,
+with irony in her tone.
+
+Indeed, she was not at all sure that half this colonial prejudice was
+not assumed in order to tease her, just as in former times her brother
+would make game of her enthusiasms about school children; for he was
+altogether returned to his old self, his sister Jane, who had seen the
+most of him, testifying that the original Maurice had revived, as never
+in the course of his married life.
+
+Dolores tried to forget or disbelieve the words she had heard about his
+having come to fetch her away, and said no word about them until they
+had been unmistakably repeated. Then she felt a sort of despair at the
+idea of being separated from her aunt and Mysie, for indeed they had
+penetrated to affections deeper than had ever been consciously stirred
+in her before. Yet she was old enough to shrink from allowing to her
+father that she preferred staying with them to going with him, and it
+was to her Aunt Jane that she had recourse. That lady, after returning
+from her expedition to bring her sister Adeline to Silverton, was
+surprised by a timid knock at the door, and Dolores’s entrance.
+
+‘Oh, if you please, Aunt Jane, may I come in? I do so want to speak to
+you alone. Don’t you think it is a sad pity that I should go away from
+the Cambridge examination? Could not you tell my father so?’
+
+‘You want to stay for the Cambridge examination,’ said Aunt Jane, a
+little amused at the manner of touching on the subject, though sorry for
+the girl.
+
+‘I have been taking great pains under Miss Vincent, and it does seem a
+pity to miss it.’
+
+‘I don’t think it will make much difference to you.’
+
+‘Oh, but I do want to be thoroughly well educated. I meant to go through
+them all, like Gillian and Mysie, and I am sure father must wish it too.
+I know he meant it when he went out last year.’
+
+‘Yes, he did,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘It was very unlucky that he did not get
+any of our later letters.’
+
+‘I have tried to tell him that it is all different now, but he does not
+seem to care,’ said Dolores.
+
+‘He has quite made up his mind,’ said her aunt.
+
+‘Has he quite?’ said Dolores. ‘I thought perhaps if you talked to him
+about the examination and the confirmation too--’
+
+‘But, Dolly, you are not going to a heathen country. Your confirmation
+will be as much attended to in New Zealand as here.’
+
+‘Oh, but I should be confirmed with Mysie, and Aunt Lily would read with
+me, and help me!’
+
+‘Yes, I see.’
+
+‘Do please tell him. Aunt Jane. He heeds what you say more than any one.
+Do tell him that the only hope of my being good is if I stay with Aunt
+Lily just these few years!’
+
+‘Ah, Dolly, that is what you really mean and care about--not the
+Cambridge business.’
+
+‘Of course it is. Please tell him, Aunt Jane--somehow I can’t--that I
+was bad and foolish when I wrote all the letters he had; but now I know
+better, and--and--I don’t want to vex him, but I shall be ever so much
+better a daughter to him if he will leave me with Aunt Lily, to learn
+some of her goodness’--and there were tears in her eyes, for these
+months had softened her greatly.
+
+‘My poor Dolly!’ said Aunt Jane, much more tenderly than she generally
+spoke. ‘I am very sorry for you. I do think Aunt Lily has been the
+making of you, and that it is very hard that you should have to be
+uprooted from her, just as you had learnt to value her, I will tell your
+father so; but honestly, I do not think it is likely to make him change
+his mind.’
+
+Miss Mohun sought her brother out the next day, and told him that they
+had all been waiting in patience when thinking that his daughter’s
+residence at Silverton was an unsuccessful experiment. The explosion she
+had predicted had come, and Dolores had been a different creature ever
+since, owing to Lady Merrifield’s management of her in the crisis; and
+she added that the girl was most unwilling to leave her aunt, and that
+she herself thought it would be much better to leave her for a few years
+to the advantages of her present training, where her affections had been
+gained. Mr. Mohun could not see it in the same light. The intimacy with
+Constance Hacket was in his eyes a folly, consequent on his sister’s
+passion for Sunday schools and charities; and Jane, being infected
+with the like ardour, he disregarded her explanations. The underhand
+correspondence could not have been carried on without great blindness
+and carelessness, or, at least, injudiciousness, on Lady Merrifield’s
+part, and there was no denying that she had trusted to a sense of honour
+that was nonexistent. Nor did he appreciate Jane’s argument that the
+conquest of the heart and will had thus been far more thoroughly gained
+than it would have been by constant thwarting and watching. It was hard
+to forgive such an exposure as had taken place, or to believe that it
+had not been brought about by unjustifiable errors, more especially as
+Lady Merrifield was the first to accuse herself of them. Moreover, he
+had become sensible of a strong natural yearning for the presence of
+his only child, and he had been so much struck with his sister Phyllis’s
+family that he sincerely believed himself consulting the girl’s best
+interests. He was by no means an irreligious or ungodly man, but he had
+always thought his sister Lilias more or less of an enthusiast, and he
+did not wish to see Dolores the same. Perhaps, indeed, the poor child’s
+manifest clinging to her aunt and cousins made him all the more resolute
+to remove her before her affection should be entirely weaned from
+himself.
+
+He made his headquarters at Silverton, and during the next two months
+modified his opinions so far as to confess to his sister Jane that
+Lilias was a much more sensible woman than he had believed her, and had
+her children well in hand. He even allowed that Dolores was improved,
+and owed much to her kindness; and when the first sting of the exposure
+was over, he could see that the treatment had been far from injudicious
+as regarded the girl’s own character. He was even glad that warm love
+and friendship had grown up towards her aunt and cousins; but all this
+left his purpose unchanged; although, after the first, nothing was said
+about it, Dolores tried to forget it, and hoped that the sight of her
+going on well and peaceably would convince him of the inexpediency of
+disturbing her. She could not even mention it to Mysie, lest the dread
+should become a reality by being uttered. So no more passed on the
+subject till it became necessary to take her outfit in hand, and he
+also wished to take her to Beechcroft, that the old family home which he
+regarded with fresh tenderness might be impressed on her memory.
+
+Then, though she never durst directly oppose the fate which he destined
+for her, she surprised him by a violent burst of tears and sobbing, and
+an entreaty that he would not take her away from Aunt Lily and Mysie a
+moment sooner than could be helped.
+
+She clung to everything, even to the guinea-pigs, and she was the first
+in the Easter holidays to beg for the ‘Thorn Fortress.’ Indeed, Mysie
+was a little shocked at her grief, as disloyal and unfilial. ‘One ought
+not to mind going anywhere with one’s father,’ she said; ‘we all thought
+it a great honour for Phyllis and Alethea.’
+
+‘They are grown up!’ said Dolores, ‘and Aunt Lily does get into one so!
+Oh, don’t say there’s Aunt Phyllis. I hate the very name of her.’
+
+‘She must be nice,’ said Mysie, ‘Whenever the ‘grown-ups’ are pleased
+with me they say I am getting like her, as if it was the best thing one
+could be.’
+
+‘But I don’t want Mysie old and grown up, I want my Mysie now, as you
+are!--And you’ll forget and leave off writing, like Maude Sefton.’
+
+‘Never!’ cried Mysie. ‘Eight across the world you will always be my own
+twin cousin.’
+
+The wishes of the girl were so far fulfilled that Lady Merrifield took
+her to London to provide her outfit, and Mysie accompanied them. A room
+and its dressing-room received the three at old Mrs. Merrifield’s, and
+the two cousins thought their close quarters ineffably precious.
+
+Mysie was introduced to Maude Sefton, who seemed entirely unconscious
+of her treachery to friendship. ‘One had so little time, and couldn’t
+always be writing,’ she said, when Dolores reproached her; ‘exercises
+were enough to tire out one’s hand!’
+
+They also drank tea with Lady Phyllis Devereux and her governess. Fly
+could not pour forth questions and reminiscences fast enough about
+all the beloved animals at Silverton, not forgetting the little G.F.S.
+nursemaid, for whom she had actually made an apron in her plain-work
+lessons. Moreover, she deemed Dolores’s fate most enviable, to be
+going off with her father to strange countries, away from lessons, and
+masters, and towns. It would be almost as good as Leila on the island.
+
+As to the Beechcroft visit, Mr. and Mrs. Mohun collected all the
+brothers and sisters in England there for a week, and still Mysie and
+Dolores were allowed to be together, squeezed into a corner of Lady
+Merrifield’s room. It was high summer, bright and glowing, and so dry,
+and even the invalidish sisters, Lady Henry Gray and Miss Adeline Mohun
+could not object to the sitting out on the lawn, among the dragonflies,
+as in days of yore.
+
+Much of old thought and feeling was then and there taken up again, and
+it was on one of the last evenings of the visit that Mr. Mohun, walking
+up and down the alley with Lady Merrifield, said--
+
+‘Well, Lily, I think my determination to take Dolly away was hasty. I
+cannot leave her now, but if I had understood all that I see at present,
+I should have been both content and grateful to have her among your
+children. I am afraid I have been ungracious.’
+
+‘I never thought so, Maurice. It is quite right that she should be with
+you, and Phyllis will do every-thing for her much better than I.’
+
+‘Poor child! I believe she is very sorry to go,’ said Mr. Mohun; ‘but,
+at any rate, she will remember Silverton as, I hope, a lasting influence
+on her life.’
+
+Dolores truly believed that so it would be, and that her aunt’s guidance
+would be always looked back upon as the turning-point of her life.
+
+‘It is my own fault,’ she said, as on the last night she clung tearfully
+to Lady Merrifield; ‘if I had behaved better I might have gone on just
+like one of your own.’
+
+‘You will still be in my heart like one of my own, dear child,’ said
+Lady Merrifield. ‘We know the way in which we all can hold together as
+one; keep to that, and the distance apart will matter the less.’
+
+And as they watched Dolores and her father driven away to the station
+the next morning, Jane Mohun laid her hand on her sister’s arm and said,
+‘You thought you had made a great failure. Lily, but is not the other
+side of a failure often a success?’
+
+By-and-by came letters from Dolores. She seemed after the first to have
+enjoyed her journey, for, as she wrote to Lady Merrifield, in a letter,
+very private, and all to her own self, ‘Father was so very good and kind
+to me, I don’t know how to tell you. It was as if a little bit of mother
+had got into him, and now I am here I think I shall like the Mays.
+Indeed, I am trying to remember your advice, and not beginning by hating
+everybody and thinking who they are not. Aunt Phyllis is very nice
+indeed, and sometimes her eyes and mouth get like Mysie’s, and her voice
+is just exactly yours. Only she is plump and roundabout, not a dear,
+tall, graceful figure like my White Lily Aunt. Please don’t call
+it nonsense, for indeed I mean it, and Aunt Phyllis does like your
+photograph so much. I have the whole group hung up in my room, and you
+over it, and I wish you all good morning every day, for I never, never,
+as long as I live, shall love anybody like you and Mysie.’
+
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg’s The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
+
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Two Sides of the Shield
+
+Author: Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6007]
+Last Updated: October 13, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Hanh Vu and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <div style="height: 8em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Charlotte M. Yonge
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      PREFACE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It is sometimes treated as an impertinence to revive the personages of one
+      story in another, even though it is after the example of Shakespeare, who
+      revived Falstaff, after his death, at the behest of Queen Elizabeth. This
+      precedent is, however, a true impertinence in calling on the very great to
+      justify the very small!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yet many a letter in youthful handwriting has begged for further
+      information on the fate of the beings that had become favourites of the
+      school-room; and this has induced me to believe that the following out of
+      my own notions as to the careers of former heroes and heroines might not
+      be unwelcome; while I have tried to make the story stand independently for
+      new readers, unacquainted with the tale in which Lady Merrifield and her
+      brothers and sisters first appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Scenes and Characters&rsquo; was, however, published so long ago, that the
+      young readers of this generation certainly will only know it if it has had
+      the good fortune to have been preserved by their mothers. It was only my
+      second book, and in looking back at it so as to preserve consistency, I
+      have been astonished at its crudeness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It will explain a few illusions to state that it is the story of the
+      motherless family of Mohuns of Beechcroft, with a kindly deaf father at
+      the head, Mr. Mohun, whose pet name was the Baron of Beechcroft, owing to
+      a romantic notion of his daughters made fun of by his sons. The eldest
+      sister, a stiff, sensible, dry woman, had just married and gone to India,
+      leaving her post to the next in age, Emily, who was much too indolent for
+      the charge. Lilies, the third in age, with her head full of the kind of
+      high romance and sentiment more prevalent thirty or forty years ago than
+      now, imagined that whereas the household had formerly been ruled by duty,
+      it now might be so by love. Of course, confusion dire was the consequence,
+      chiefly with the younger boys, the scientific, cross-grained Maurice, and
+      the high-spirited, turbulent Reginald, all the mischief being fomented by
+      Jane&rsquo;s pertness and curiosity, and only mitigated by the honest simplicity
+      and dutifulness of eight years old Phyllis. The remedy was found at last
+      in the marriage of the eldest son William with Alethea Weston, already
+      Lilias&rsquo;s favourite friend and model.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That in a youthful composition there should be a cavalier ancestry, a
+      family much given to dying of consumption, and a young marquess cousin is,
+      perhaps, inevitable. Lord Rotherwood was Mr. Mohun&rsquo;s ward, and having a
+      dull home of his own, found his chief happiness as well as all the best
+      influences of his life, in the merry, highly-principled, though easy-going
+      life at his uncle&rsquo;s, whom he revered like a father, while his eager,
+      somewhat shatter-brained nature often made him a butt to his cousins. All
+      this may account for the tone of camaraderie with which the scattered
+      members of the family meet again, especially around Lilias, who had, with
+      her cleverness and enthusiasm, always been the leading member of the
+      group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It should, perhaps, also be mentioned that Lord Rotherwood&rsquo;s greatest
+      friend was also Lilias&rsquo;s favourite brother, Claude, who had become a
+      clergyman and died early. Aunt Adeline had been the spoilt child and
+      beauty of the family, the youngest of all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      C. M. YONGE.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      March 8th, 1885.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD</b></big>
+      </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. &mdash; WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. &mdash; THE MERRIFIELDS. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. &mdash; GOOD-BYE </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. &mdash; TURNED IN AMONG THEM </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. &mdash; THE FIRST WALK </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. &mdash; PERSECUTION </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. &mdash; G.F.S. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. &mdash; MY PERSECUTED UNCLE </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. &mdash; LETTERS </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. &mdash; THE EVENING STAR </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. &mdash; SECRET EXPEDITION </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. &mdash; A HUNT </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. &mdash; AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. &mdash; A CYPHER AND A TY. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. &mdash; THE BUTTERFLY&rsquo;S BALL. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. &mdash; THE INCONSTANCY OF
+      CONSTANCE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. &mdash; THE STONE MELTING. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. &mdash; MYSIE AND DOLORES. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. &mdash; A SADDER AND A WISER
+      AUTHORESS. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. &mdash; CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY
+      MOUSE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. &mdash; IN COURT AND OUT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. &mdash; NAY. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. &mdash; WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which showed a table of small
+      dimensions, with a vase of somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses in the
+      centre, and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentleman had helped
+      himself and a young girl of about thirteen, without much apparent
+      consciousness of what he was about, being absorbed in a pile of papers,
+      pamphlets, and letters, while she on her side kept a book pinned open by a
+      gravy spoon. The elderly maid-servant, who set the dishes before them,
+      handed the vegetables and changed the plates, really came as near to
+      feeding the pair as was possible with people above three years old.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The one was a dark, thin man, with a good deal of white in his thick beard
+      and scanty hair, the absence of which made the breadth of his forehead the
+      more remarkable. The girl would have shown an equally remarkable brow, but
+      that her dark hair was cut square over it, so as to take off from its
+      height, and give a heavy over-hanging look to the upper part of the face,
+      which below was tin and sallow, well-featured, but with a want of glow and
+      colour. The thick masses of dark hair were plaited into a very long thick
+      tail behind, hanging down over a black evening frock, whose white
+      trimmings were, like everything else about the place, rather dingy. She
+      was far less absorbed than her father, and raised a quick, wistful brown
+      eye whenever he made the least sound, or shuffled his papers. Indeed, it
+      seemed that she was reading in order to distract her anxiety rather than
+      for the sake of occupation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not till after the last pieces of cheese had been offered and
+      refused, and the maid had retired, leaving some dull crackers and veteran
+      biscuits, with two decanters and a claret-jug, that he spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dolores!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, father.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he only cleared his throat, and looked at his letter again, while she
+      fixed her eager eyes upon him so earnestly that he let his fall again, and
+      looked once more over his letters before he spoke again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dolores,&rsquo; and the tone was dry, as if all feeling were driven from it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, father.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You know that I have accepted this appointment?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, father.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And that I shall be absent three years at the least?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then comes the question, how you are to be disposed of in the meantime?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Could not I go with you?&rsquo; she said, under her breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, my dear.&rsquo; And somehow the tone had more tenderness in it, though it
+      was so explicit. &lsquo;I shall have no fixed residence, no one with whom to
+      leave you; and the climate is not fit for you. Your Aunt Lilias has kindly
+      offered to take charge of you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, father!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If you would only let me stay here with Caroline and Fraulein. I like it
+      so much better.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That cannot be, Dolly. I have this morning promised to let the house as
+      it is to Mr. Smithson.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And Caroline?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If Caroline takes my advice, she will remain here as his housekeeper, and
+      I think she will. Well, what is it? You do not mean that you would prefer
+      going to your Aunts Jane and Ada?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no, no; only if I might go to school.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This is nonsense, Dolores. It will be much better for you on all accounts
+      to be with your aunt at Silverfold. I have no fear that she and her girls
+      will not do their best to make you happy and good, and to give you what
+      you have sadly wanted, my poor child. I have always wished you could have
+      seen more of her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There could be no doubt from the tone, in the mind of any one who knew Mr.
+      Maurine Mohun, that the decision was final; but perhaps Dolores would have
+      asked more if the door-bell had not rung at the moment and Mr. Smithson
+      had not been announced. Fate was closing in on her. She retired into her
+      book, and remained as long as she possibly could, for the sake of seeing
+      her father and hearing his voice; but after a time she was desired to call
+      Caroline, and to go to bed herself, for it was a good deal past nine
+      o&rsquo;clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had been aware, she could hardly tell how, that her father had been
+      offered a government appointment connected with the Fiji Islands, and then
+      that, glad to escape from the dreariness which had settled down on the
+      house since his wife&rsquo;s death, about eighteen months previously, he had
+      accepted it, and she had speculated much on her probable fate; but had
+      never before been officially informed of his designs for himself or for
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was a barrister, who spent all his leisure time on scientific studies,
+      and his wife had been equally devoted to the same pursuits. Dolores had
+      been her constant companion; but after the mother&rsquo;s death, from an
+      accident on a glacier, a strange barrier of throwing himself into the ways
+      of a girl past the charms of infancy. It was as if they had lost their
+      interpreter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The German governess, chosen by Mrs. Mohun, was very German indeed, and
+      greatly occupied in her own studies. When she found that the armes-liebes
+      Madchen shrank from being wept over and caressed on the mournful return,
+      she decided that the English had no feeling, and acquiesced in the routine
+      of lessons and expeditions to classes. She was never unkind, but she did
+      not try to be a companion; and old Caroline was excellent in the attention
+      she paid to the comforts of her master and his daughter, but had no love
+      of children, and would not have encouraged familiarities, even if Dolores
+      had not been too entirely a drawing-room child to offer them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The morning came, and everything went on as usual; Dolores poured out the
+      coffee, Mr. Mohun read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but afterwards he
+      asked for a few minutes&rsquo; conversation with Fraulein. All that Dolores
+      heard of the result of it was &lsquo;So,&rsquo; and then lessons went on until twelve
+      o&rsquo;clock, when it was the custom that the girl should have an hour&rsquo;s
+      recreation, which was, in any tolerable weather, spent in the gardens of
+      the far west Crescent, where she lived. There she was nearly certain of
+      meeting her one great friend, Maude Sefton, who was always sent out for
+      her airing at the same time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They spied each other issuing from their doors, met, linked their arms,
+      and entered together. Maude was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow
+      bush down her back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great deal
+      bigger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dearest Doll!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, it is come.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then he is really going? I heard the pater and mater talking about it
+      yesterday, and they said it would be an excellent thing for him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Maude! Then they did not say anything about what we hoped?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What, the mater&rsquo;s offering for you to come and live with us, darling? Oh
+      no; and I&rsquo;s afraid it is of no use to ask her, for she said of herself,
+      that she knew Mr. Mohun had sisters, and&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And what? Tell me, Maude. You must!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, then, you know you made me, and I think it is a shame. She said she
+      was glad she wasn&rsquo;t one of them, for you were such a peculiar child.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear me, Maude, you needn&rsquo;t mind telling me that! I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t want
+      to be like everybody else.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And are you going to one of your aunts?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, to Aunt Lilias. Oh, Maude, he would not hear a word against it, and
+      I know it will be so horrid! Aunts are always nasty!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Kate is very fond of her aunt,&rsquo; said Maude, who did not happen to have
+      any personal experiences to oppose to this sweeping assertion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t mean proper aunts, but aunts that have orphans left to them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But you are not an orphan, darling.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I dare say I shall be. &lsquo;Tis a horrible climate, and there are no end of
+      cannibals there, so that he would not take me out for anything,&mdash;and
+      sharks, and volcanoes, and hurricanes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think they eat people there now.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It&rsquo;s bad enough if they don&rsquo;t! And you know those aunts begin pretty
+      well, while they are in fear of the father, but then they get worse.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There was Ada Morton,&rsquo; said Maude, in a tone of conviction, &lsquo;and Anna
+      Ross.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, and another book, &lsquo;Rose Turquand.&rsquo; It was a grown-up book, that I
+      read once&mdash;long ago,&rsquo; said Dolores, who had in her mother&rsquo;s time been
+      allowed a pretty free range of &lsquo;book-box.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And there&rsquo;s &lsquo;Under the Shield,&rsquo; but that was a boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There are lots and lots,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;They are ever so much worse than
+      the stepmothers! Not that there is any fear of that!&rsquo; she added quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But isn&rsquo;t this Aunt Lilias nice? It&rsquo;s a pretty name. Which is she? You
+      have one aunt a Lady Something, haven&rsquo;t you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, it is this one, Lady Merrifield. Her husband is a general, Sir
+      Jasper Merrifield, and he is gone out to command in some place in India;
+      but she cannot stand the climate, and is living at home at a place called
+      Silverfold, with a whole lot of children. I think two are gone out with
+      their father, but there are a great many more.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you know them at all?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, and don&rsquo;t want to! I think my aunts were unkind to mother!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; exclaimed Maude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sure of it. They were horrid, stuck-up, fine ladies, and looked down
+      on her, though she was ever so much nicer, and cleverer, and more
+      intellectual than they; and she looked down on them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Are you sure?&rsquo; asked Maude, to whom it was as good as a story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, indeed. She was civil, of course, because they were father&rsquo;s
+      sisters, but I know she couldn&rsquo;t bear them. If any of them came to London,
+      there was a calling, but all very stupid, and a dining at Lord
+      Rotherwood&rsquo;s; but she never would, except once, when I can hardly
+      remember, go to stay at their slow places in the country. I&rsquo;ve heard
+      father try to persuade her when they didn&rsquo;t think I understood. You know
+      we always went abroad, or to the sea or something, except last year, when
+      we were at Beechcroft. That wasn&rsquo;t so bad, for there were lots of books,
+      and Uncle Reginald was there, and he is jolly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t you get Mr. Mohun to send you there?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I don&rsquo;t think they would have me, for every body there is grown up,
+      and father seems to have a wish for me to be with this Aunt Lilias,
+      because she has a schoolroom.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wonder he should wish it, if she was unkind to Mrs. Mohun.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, she was out of the way most of the time. They have lived at Malta
+      and Gibraltar, and Belfast, and all sorts of places, so they will all have
+      regular garrison frivolous manner, and think of nothing but officers and
+      balls. I know she was a beauty, and wants to be one still.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Maude, whose father was a professor, looked quite appalled and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You will be the one to infuse better things.&rsquo; She felt quite proud of the
+      word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps,&rsquo; returned Dolores; &lsquo;they always do that in time, but not till
+      they&rsquo;ve been awfully bullied. All the cousins are jealous, and the aunt
+      spites them because they are nicer and prettier than her own.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Maude, &lsquo;but then there&rsquo;s always some tremendously nice
+      boy-cousin, or uncle, or something, that makes up for it all. Will Sir
+      Jasper Merrifield&rsquo;s eldest son be a Sir?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no; he&rsquo;s not a baronet, but a G.C.B., Knight Grand Cross of the Bath,
+      that is. Besides, I don&rsquo;t care for love, and titles, and all that
+      nonsense, though father is first cousin to Lord Rotherwood.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And you never saw any of them?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Aunt Lilias was at the Charing Cross Hotel with Uncle Jasper and the
+      two eldest daughters, Alethea and Phyllis, and some more of them, just
+      before they sailed; and father took me there on Sunday to luncheon; but
+      there were so many people, and such a talk, and such a bustle, that I
+      hardly knew which was which. Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada were a talking that it
+      made my head turn round; but I saw how affected Aunt Lilias is, and I knew
+      that whenever they looked at me they said &lsquo;poor child,&rsquo; and I always hate
+      any one who does that! All I was afraid of then was that father would let
+      Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada come and live with us; but this is ever so much
+      worse.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You have such a lot of aunts and uncles!&rsquo; said Maude, &lsquo;and I have not got
+      anything but one old uncle.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncles are all very well,&rsquo; said Dolores, said Maude. &lsquo;There are the two
+      Miss Mohuns&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s beginning at the wrong end. Aunt Ada is the youngest of them
+      all, and she thinks she is a young lady still, and wears little curls on
+      her forehead, and a tennis pinafore, and makes her waist just like a wasp.
+      She and Aunt Jane live together at Rockquay, because she has bad health&mdash;at
+      least she has whenever she likes; and Aunt Jane does all sorts of
+      charities and worries, and sets everybody to rights,&rsquo; said Dolly, in a
+      very grown-up voice, speaking partly from her own observation, and partly
+      repeating what she had caught from her elders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, I know her,&rsquo; said Maude. &lsquo;She asked me questions about all I did,
+      and she did bother mamma so about a maid she recommended that we are never
+      going to take another from her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aunt Phyllis comes between them, I believe; but she has married a sailor
+      captain and gone to settle in New Zealand, and I have not seen her since I
+      was a very little girl. Then there&rsquo;s Aunt Emily, who is a very great swell
+      indeed. Her husband was a canon, Lord Henry Grey; but he is dead, and she
+      lives at Brighton, a regular fat, comfortable down-pillow of a woman, who
+      isn&rsquo;t bad to lunch with, only she sends one out to the Parade with her
+      maid, as if one was a baby. Mother used to laugh at her. And I think there
+      was an older one who went to India and died long ago.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I have seen your two uncles. There&rsquo;s Major Mohun. Oh! he is fun!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, dear old Uncle Regie! I wish he was not in Ireland. He will be so
+      sorry to miss seeing father off, but he can&rsquo;t get leave. And there was a
+      clergyman who is dead, and father grieved for very much. I think he did
+      something to make them all nicer to mother, for it was just after that we
+      went to stay at Beechcroft with Uncle William. You know him, and how
+      mother used to call him the very model of a country squire; and I like his
+      wife, Aunt Alethea. Only it is very pokey and slow down there, and they
+      are always after flannel petticoats and soup kitchens, and all the old
+      fads that are exploded. I should get awfully tired of it before a year was
+      out, only I should not be teased with strange children, and there would be
+      no one to be jealous of me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t you get your father to change and send you there?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not a chance. You see Aunt Lilias had offered, and they haven&rsquo;t, and I
+      must go on with my education. I hope, though I shall have no advantages, I
+      shall still be able to go up for the Cambridge examination, if Aunt Lilias
+      has not prejudices, as I dare say she has, since of course none of her own
+      will be able to try.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You&rsquo;ll come up to us for the examination, Dolly dear, and we shall do it
+      together, and that will be nice!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If they will let me; but I don&rsquo;t expect to be allowed to do anything that
+      I wish. Only perhaps father may be come home by that time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is it three years?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes. It is a terrible time, isn&rsquo;t it? However, when I&rsquo;m seventeen perhaps
+      he will talk to me, and I can really keep house.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And then you&rsquo;ll come back here?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you know, Maudie&mdash;listen&mdash;I&rsquo;ve another uncle, belonging to
+      mother.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Dolly! I thought she had no one!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He told me he was my Uncle Alfred once when he met me in the park with
+      Fraulein, and gave me a note for mother. He is called Mr. Flinders.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But I thought your mother was daughter to Professor Hay?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But this is a half-brother; my grandmother was married before. Uncle
+      Alfrey has an immense light beard, and I think he is very poor. He came
+      once or twice to see mother, and they always sent me out of the room; but
+      I am sure she gave him money&mdash;not father&rsquo;s housekeeping money, but
+      what she got for herself by writing. Once I heard father go out of the
+      house, saying, &lsquo;Well, it&rsquo;s your own to do as you please with.&rsquo; And then
+      mother went to her room, and I know she cried. It was the only time that
+      ever mother cried!&rsquo; And as Maude listened, much impressed&mdash;&lsquo;Once when
+      she had got eleven pounds, and we were going to have bought father such a
+      binocular for a secret as a birthday present, Mr. Flinders came, and she
+      gave him ten of it, and we could only buy just a few slides for father.
+      And she told me she was grieved, but she could not help it, and it would
+      be time for me to understand when I was older.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think this Uncle Alfrey can be nice,&rsquo; said Maude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;&rsquo;Tis quite disgusting if he kisses me,&rsquo; said Dolly; &lsquo;but you see he is
+      poor, and all the Mohuns are stuck up, except father, and they wanted
+      mother to despise him, and not help him. And you see, she stuck to him. I
+      don&rsquo;t like him much; but you see nobody ever was like her! Oh, Maude, if
+      she wasn&rsquo;t dead!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And poor Dolores cried as she had not done even at the time of the
+      accident, or in the terrible week that followed, or at the desolate home
+      coming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. &mdash; THE MERRIFIELDS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The cool twilight of a long sunny summer&rsquo;s day was freshening the pleasant
+      garden of a country house, and three people were walking slowly along a
+      garden path enjoying the contrast with the heat, glare, and noise of the
+      day. The central one was a tall, slender lady, with a light shawl hung
+      round her shoulders. On one side was a youth who had begun to overtop her,
+      on the other a girl of shorter and sturdier mould, who only reached up to
+      her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So she is coming!&rsquo; the girl said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Uncle Maurice has answered my letter very kindly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should think he would be very much obliged,&rsquo; observed the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Please, mamma, do tell us all about it,&rsquo; said the girl. &lsquo;You know I
+      stopped directly when you made me a sign not to go on asking questions
+      before the little ones. And you said you should have to make us your
+      friends while papa and the grown-ups are away.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, Gillian, I know you can be discreet when you are warned, and
+      perhaps it is best that you should know how things stand. Do you remember
+      anything about it, Hal?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only a general perception that there were tempests in the higher regions,
+      but I think that was more from hearing Alley and Phyl talk than from my
+      native sagacity.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So I should suppose, since you were only six years old, at the utmost.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But Uncle Maurice always was under a cloud, wasn&rsquo;t he, especially at
+      Beechcroft, where I never saw him or his wife in the holidays except once,
+      when I believe she was not at all liked, and was thought to be very proud,
+      and stuck-up, and pretentious.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But was she just nobody? not a lady?&rsquo; cried Gillian. &lsquo;Aunt Emily always
+      called her, &lsquo;&ldquo;Poor thing.&rdquo;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps she did the same by Aunt Emily,&rsquo; returned Hal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I am sure I have heard Aunt Ada say that she wasn&rsquo;t a lady; and Aunt
+      Jane that she had all sorts of discreditable connections.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Come now, Gill, if you chatter so, how is mamma to get a word in
+      between?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid we have all been hard on her, poor thing!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There now, mamma has done it, just like Aunt Emily!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Anybody would be poor who got killed in a glacier!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, but one doesn&rsquo;t say poor when people are&mdash;nice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When I said poor,&rsquo; now put in Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;it was not so much that I
+      was thinking of her death as of her having come into a family where nobody
+      welcomed her, and I really do not suppose it was her fault.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Moreover, she seemed to do very well without a welcome,&rsquo; added Hal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Who is interrupting now?&rsquo; cried Gillian, &lsquo;but was she a lady?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I never saw her, you know,&rsquo; said the mother; &lsquo;but from all I ever heard
+      of her, I should think she was, and cleverer and more highly educated than
+      any of us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Hal, &lsquo;that was the kind of pretension that exasperated them
+      all at Beechcroft, especially Uncle William.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wonder if Dolores will have it!&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;I suppose she will know
+      much more than we do.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Probably, being the only child of such parents, and with every advantage
+      London can give. Maurice was always much the cleverest of us all, and with
+      a very strong mechanical and scientific turn, so that I now think it might
+      have been better to have let him follow his bent. But when we were young
+      there was a good deal of mistrust of anything outside the beaten tracks of
+      gentlemanlike professions, and my dear old father did not like what he
+      heard of the course of study for those lines. Things were not as they are
+      now. So Maurice went to Cambridge, and was fifth wrangler of his year, and
+      then had to go to the bar. It somehow always gave him a thwarted, injured
+      feeling of working against the grain, and he cultivated all these
+      scientific pursuits to the utmost, getting more and more into opinions and
+      society that distressed grandpapa and Uncle William. So he fell in with
+      Mr. Hay, a professor at a German university. I can hear William&rsquo;s tone of
+      utter contempt and disgust. I believe this poor man was exceedingly
+      learned, and had made some remarkable discoveries, but he was very poor,
+      and lived in lodgings at Bonn with his daughter in the small way people
+      are content to do in Germany. As to his opinions, we all took it for
+      granted that he was a freethinker; but I can&rsquo;t tell how that might be.
+      Maurice lodged in the same house one year when he went to learn German and
+      attend lectures, and he went back again every long vacation. At last came
+      your dear grandfather&rsquo;s death. Maurice hurried away from Beechcroft
+      immediately after the funeral, and the next thing that was heard of him
+      was that he had married Miss Hay. It was no wonder that your Uncle William
+      was bitterly hurt and offended at the apparent disrespect to our father,
+      and would make no move towards Maurice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was when we were at the Cape, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rsquo; asked Hal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, the year Gillian was born. Well, your dear Uncle Claude went to see
+      Maurice in London, and found there was much excuse. Maurice had learnt
+      that the old professor was dying, and his daughter had nothing, and would
+      have had to be a governess, so that Maurice had married her in haste in
+      order to be able to help them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then it really was very kind and noble in him!&rsquo; exclaimed Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I believe every one would have felt it so; but for his unfortunately
+      reserved way of concealing the extent of the acquaintance, and showing
+      that he would not be interfered with. Claude did his best to close the
+      breach, but there had been something to forgive on both sides, and perhaps
+      SHE was prouder than the Mohuns themselves. Oh! my dears, I hope you will
+      never have a family quarrel among you! It is so sad to look back upon a
+      change after the happy years when we were all together, and were laughing
+      and making fun of one another!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But you were quite out of it, mamma.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So I was in a way, but I knew nothing of the justification till too late
+      for any advances from us to take much effect. I am four years older than
+      Maurice, we had never been a pair, and had never corresponded. And when I
+      wrote to him and to his wife, I only received stiff, formal answers. They
+      were abroad when we were in London on coming home, and they would not come
+      to see us at Belfast, so that I could never make acquaintance with her;
+      but I believe she was an excellent wife, suiting him admirably in every
+      way, and I expect to find this little daughter of theirs very well brought
+      up, and much forwarder than honest old Mysie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mysie is in perfect raptures at the notion of having a cousin here
+      exactly of her own age,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;What she would wish is that the
+      two should be so much alike as to be taken for twins. I have been trying
+      to remember Dolores on that dreadful Sunday at the hotel, when Uncle
+      Maurice came to see us, just when papa was setting off for Bombay, but it
+      all seems confusion. I can think of nothing but a little black, shy
+      figure. I remember Phyllis telling me that she thought I ought to do
+      something to entertain her, but I could not think of a word to say to
+      her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For which perhaps she was thankful,&rsquo; said her brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am not sure. You are all too apt, when you are shy, to console yourself
+      with fancying that you are doing as you would be done by. It might have
+      worried her then perhaps, but it would have made it easier for her to
+      begin among us now! I am very glad her father consents to my having her! I
+      do hope we may make her happy.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Happy!&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;Anybody must be happy with such a number to play
+      with, and with you to mother her, mamma.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am afraid she will not feel me much like her own mother, poor child!
+      But it will not be for want of the will. When I look back now I feel sorry
+      for myself for the early loss of my mother, for though we were all merry
+      enough as children and young people, there always seems to have been a
+      lack of something fostering and repressing. There was a kind of
+      desolateness in our life, though we did not understand it at the time. I
+      am thankful you have not known it, my dears.&rsquo; There was a strange rush of
+      tears nearly choking her voice, and she shook them away with a sort of
+      laugh. &lsquo;That I should cry for that at this time of day!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian raised her face for a kiss, and even Harry did the same. Their
+      hearts were very full, as the perception swept over them in one flash what
+      their lives would have been without mamma. It seemed like the solid earth
+      giving way under their feet!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am very sorry for poor Dolores,&rsquo; said Gillian presently. &lsquo;It seems as
+      if we could never be kind enough to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes. Indeed I hope we may do something towards supplying her with a real
+      home, wandering sprites as we have been,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What a name it is! Dolores! It is as bad as Peter Grievous! How did she
+      get it?&rsquo; grumbled Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That I cannot tell, but I think we must call her Dora or Dolly, as I
+      fancy your Aunt Jane told me she was called at home. I hope Wilfred will
+      not get hold of it and tease her about it. You must defend her from that.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If we can,&rsquo; said Gillian; &lsquo;but Wilfred is rather an imp.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Harry. &lsquo;I found Primrose reduced to the verge of distraction
+      yesterday because &lsquo;Willie would call her Leg of Mutton.&lsquo;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hope you boxed his ears!&rsquo; cried Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I did give it to him well,&rsquo; said Hal, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Thank you,&rsquo; said his mother. &lsquo;A big brother is more effective in such
+      cases than any one else can be. Wilfred is the only one of you all who
+      ever seemed to take pleasure in causing pain&mdash;and I hardly know how
+      to meet the propensity.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He is the only one who is not quite certain to be nice with Dolores,&rsquo; 
+      said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I really don&rsquo;t quite see how to manage,&rsquo; said the mother. &lsquo;If we show
+      him our anxiety to shield her, it is very likely to direct his attention
+      that way.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She must take her chance,&rsquo; said Hal, &lsquo;and if she is any way rational, she
+      can soon put a stop to it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But, oh dear! I wish he could go to school,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So do I, my dear,&rsquo; returned her mother; &lsquo;but you know the doctors say we
+      must not risk it for another year, and I can only hope that as he grows
+      stronger, he may become more manly. Meantime we must be patient with him,
+      and Hal can help more than any one else. There&mdash;what&rsquo;s that
+      striking?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Three quarters.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then we must make haste in, or we shall not have finished supper before
+      ten.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lilias Mohun had married a soldier, and after many wanderings through
+      military stations, the health and education of a large proportion of her
+      family had necessitated her remaining at home with them, while her husband
+      held a command in India, taking out with him the two grown-up daughters
+      and the second son, who was on his staff. She was established in a large
+      house not far from a country town, for the convenience of daily governess,
+      tutor, and masters. She herself had grown up on the old system which made
+      education depend more on the family than on the governess, and she
+      preferred honestly the company and training of her children to going into
+      society in her husband&rsquo;s absence. Therefore she arranged her habits with a
+      view to being constantly with them, and though exchanging calls, and
+      occasionally accepting invitations in the neighbourhood, it was an
+      understood thing that she went out very little. The chief exceptions were
+      when her eldest son, Harry, was at home from Oxford. He was devotedly fond
+      of her, and all the more pleased and proud to take her about with him
+      because it had not always been possible that his holidays in his school
+      life should be spent at home, and thus the privilege was doubly prized.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two sisters above and one brother below him were in India with their
+      father, and Gillian was not yet out of the schoolroom, though this did not
+      cut her off from being her mother&rsquo;s prime companion. Then followed a
+      schoolboy at Wellington, named Jasper, two more girls, a brace of boys,
+      and the five-year-old baby of the establishment&mdash;sufficient reasons
+      to detain Lady Merrifield in England after more than twenty years of
+      travels as a soldier&rsquo;s wife, so that scarcely three of her children had
+      the same birthplace. She had been able to see very little of her English
+      relations, being much tied by the number of her children while all were
+      very young, and the expense of journeys; but she was now within easy reach
+      of her two unmarried sisters, and after the Cape, Gibraltar, Malta, and
+      Dublin, the homes of her eldest sister, and of her eldest brother did not
+      seem very far off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed Beechcroft, the home of her childhood, had always been the
+      headquarters of herself and her children on their rare visits to England.
+      Her elder boys had been sure of a welcome there in the holidays, and loved
+      it scarcely less than she did herself; and when looking for her present
+      abode, the whole family had stayed there for three months. Her brother
+      Maurice, however, she had scarcely seen, and she had been much pained at
+      being included in his persistent avoidance of the whole family, who felt
+      that he resented their displeasure at his marriage even more since his
+      wife&rsquo;s death than he had done during her lifetime, as if he felt doubly
+      bound, for her sake, not to forgive and forget. At least so said some of
+      the family, while others hoped that his distaste to all intercourse with
+      them only arose from the apathy succeeding a great blow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. &mdash; GOOD-BYE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A passage was offered to Mr. Mohun in a Queen&rsquo;s ship, and this hurried the
+      preparations so much that to Dolores it appeared that there was nothing
+      but bustle and confusion, from the day of her conversation with Maude,
+      until she found herself in the railway carriage returning from Plymouth
+      with her eldest uncle. Her father had intended to take her himself to
+      Silverfold; but detentions at the office in London, and then a telegram
+      from Plymouth, had disconcerted his plans, and when he found that his
+      eldest brother would come and meet him at the last, he was glad to yield
+      to his little daughter&rsquo;s earnest desire to be with him as long as
+      possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shy and reserved as both were, and almost incapable of finding expression
+      for their feelings, they still clung closely together, though the only
+      tears the girl was seen to shed came in church on the last Sunday evening,
+      blinding and choking, and she could barely restrain her sobs. Her father
+      would have taken her out, but she resisted, and leant against him, while
+      he put his arm round her. After this, whenever it was possible, she crept
+      up to him, and he held her close.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been no further discussion on her home. Lady Merrifield had
+      written kindly to her, as well as to her father, but that was small
+      consolation to one so well instructed by story books in the hypocrisy of
+      aunts until fathers were at a distance. And her father was so manifestly
+      gratified by the letter, that it would be of no use to say a word to him
+      now. Her fate was determined, and, as she heroically told Maude in their
+      last interview, she was determined to make the best of it. She would
+      endure the unjust aunt, and jealous, silly cousins, and be so clever, and
+      wise, and superior, that she would force them to admire and respect her,
+      and by-and-by follow her example, and be good and sensible, so that when
+      father came home, he would find them acknowledging that they owed
+      everything to her; she had saved two or three of their lives, nursed half
+      of them when the other half were helpless, fainting, and hysterical, and,
+      in short, been the Providence of the household. Then father would look at
+      her, and say, &lsquo;My Mary again!&rsquo; and he would take her home, and talk to her
+      with the free confidence he had shown her mother, and would be comforted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was the hope that had carried her through the last parting, when she
+      went on board with her uncle and saw her father&rsquo;s cabin, and looked with a
+      dull kind of entertainment at all the curious arrangements of the big
+      ship. It seemed more like sight-seeing than good-bye, when at last they
+      were sent on shore, and hurried up to the station just in time for the
+      train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Uncle William was a very unapproachable person. He did not profess to
+      understand little girls. He looked at Dolores rather anxiously, afraid,
+      perhaps, that she was crying, and put her into the carriage, then rushed
+      out and brought back a handful of newspapers, giving her the Graphic, and
+      hiding himself in the Times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She felt too dull and stunned to read, or to look at the pictures, though
+      she held the paper in her hands, and she gazed out dreamily at the Ton&rsquo;s
+      and rocks and woody ravines of Dartmoor as they flew past her, the leaves
+      and ferns all golden brown with autumn colouring. She had had little sleep
+      that night; her little legs had all the morning been keeping up with the
+      two men&rsquo;s hasty steps, and though an excellent meal had been set before
+      her in the ship, she had not been able to swallow much, and she was a good
+      deal worn out. So when at last they reached Exeter, and finding there
+      would be two hours to wait, her uncle asked whether she would come down
+      into the town with him and see the Cathedral, she much preferred to stay
+      where she was. He put her under the care of the woman in the waiting-room,
+      who gave her some tea, took off her hat, and made her lie down on a couch,
+      where she slept quite sound for more than an hour, until she was roused by
+      some ladies coming in with a crying baby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was, she thought, nearly time to go on, for the gas was being lighted.
+      She put on her hat, and went out to look for her uncle on the platform, so
+      as to get into a better light to see the face of her mother&rsquo;s little Swiss
+      watch, which her father had just made over to her. She had just made out
+      that there was not more than a quarter of an hour to spare, when she heard
+      an exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;By Jove! if that ain&rsquo;t Mary&rsquo;s little girl!&rsquo; and, looking up she saw Mr.
+      Flinders&rsquo; huge, bushy, light-coloured beard. &lsquo;Is your father here?&rsquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; he sailed this afternoon.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Always my luck! Ticket wasted! Sailed&mdash;really?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes. We did not come back till the ship was out of harbour.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He muttered some exclamation, and asked&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Whom are you with?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncle William. Mr. Mohun&mdash;my eldest uncle. He will be back
+      directly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Flinders whistled a note of discontent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Going to rusticate with him, poor little mite?&rsquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No. I&rsquo;m to live with my Aunt Lilias&mdash;Lady Merrifield.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Where?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;At Silverfold Grange, near Silverfold.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, you&rsquo;ll get among the swells. They&rsquo;ll make you cut all your poor
+      mother&rsquo;s connections. So there&rsquo;s an end of it. She was a good creature&mdash;she
+      was!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll never forget any one that belongs to her,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;Oh,
+      there&rsquo;s Uncle William!&rsquo; as on the top of the stairs she spied the welcome
+      sight of his grey locks and burly figure. Before he had descended, her
+      other uncle had vanished, and she fancied she had heard something about,
+      &lsquo;Mum about our meeting. Ta ta!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Uncle William&rsquo;s eyes being less sharp than hers, he was on his way to the
+      waiting-room before she joined him, and as he had not seen her encounter,
+      she would not tell him. They were settled in the carriage again, and she
+      was tolerably refreshed. Mr. Mohun fell asleep, and she, after reading by
+      the lamp-light as long as she could find anything to read, gazed at the
+      odd reflections in the windows till she, too, nodded and dozed, half
+      waking at every station.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last, she was aware of a stop in earnest, voices, and being called.
+      There was her uncle saying, &lsquo;Well, Hal, here we are!&rsquo; and she was lifted
+      out and set on the platform, with gas all round. Her uncle was saying, &lsquo;We
+      didn&rsquo;t get away in time for the express,&rsquo; and a young man was answering,
+      &lsquo;We&rsquo;d better put Dolly into the waggonette at once. Then I&rsquo;ll see to the
+      luggage.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Very like a parcel, so stiff were her legs, she was bundled into the dark
+      cavern of a closed waggonette, and, after a little lumbering, her uncle
+      and the young man got in after her, saying something about eleven o&rsquo;clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was more awake now, and knew that they were driving through lighted
+      streets, and then, after an interval, turned into darkness, upon gravel,
+      and stopped at last before a door full of light, with figures standing up
+      dark in it. She heard a &lsquo;Well, William!&rsquo; &lsquo;Well Lily, here we are at last!&rsquo; 
+      Then there were arms embracing her, and a kiss on each cheek, as a soft
+      voice said, &lsquo;My poor little girl! They wanted to sit up for you, but it
+      was too late, and I dare say you had rather be quiet.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was led into a lamp-lit room, which dazzled her. It was spread with
+      food, but she was too much tired to eat, and her aunt saw how it was, and
+      telling Harry to take care of his uncle, she took the hand&mdash;though it
+      did not close on hers&mdash;and, climbing up what seemed to Dolores an
+      endless number of stairs, she said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are up high, my dear; but I thought you would like a room to
+      yourself.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poked away in an attic,&rsquo; was Dolores&rsquo;s dreamy thought; while her aunt
+      added, to a tall, thin woman, who came out with a lamp in her hand&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She is so tired that she had better go to bed directly, Mrs. Halfpenny.
+      You will make her comfortable, and don&rsquo;t let her be disturbed in the
+      morning till she has had her sleep out.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolly found herself undressed, without many words, till it came to&mdash;&lsquo;Your
+      prayers, Miss Dora. I am sure you&rsquo;ve need not to miss them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not like to be told, besides, poor child, prayers were not much
+      more than a form to her. She did not contest the point, but knelt down and
+      muttered something, then laid her weary head on the pillow, was tucked up
+      by Mrs. Halfpenny, and left in the dark. It was a dreary half sleep into
+      which she fell. The noise of the train seemed to be still in her ears, and
+      at the same time she was always being driven up&mdash;up&mdash;up endless
+      stairs, by tall, cruel aunts; or they were shutting her up to do all their
+      children&rsquo;s work, and keeping away father&rsquo;s letters from her. Then she
+      awoke and told herself it was a dream, but she missed the noises of the
+      street, and the patch of light on the wall from the gas lamps, and
+      recollected that father was gone, and she was really in the power of one
+      of these cruel aunts; and she felt like screaming, only then she might
+      have been heard; and a great horrid clock went on making a noise like a
+      church bell, and striking so many odd quarters that there was no guessing
+      when morning was coming. And after all, why should she wish it to come?
+      Oh, if she could but sleep the three years while father was away!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last, however, she fell into a really calm sleep, and when she awoke,
+      the room was full of light, but her watch had stopped; she had been too
+      much tired to remember to wind it; and she lay a little while hearing
+      sounds that made it clear that the world was astir, and she could see that
+      preparations had been made for her getting up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They shan&rsquo;t begin by scolding me for being late,&rsquo; she thought, and she
+      began her toilette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just as she came to her hair, the old nurse knocked and asked whether she
+      wanted help.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Thank you, I&rsquo;ve been used to dress myself,&rsquo; said Dolores, rather proudly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll help you now, missy, for prayers are over, and they are all gone to
+      breakfast, only my lady said you were not to be disturbed, and Miss Mysie
+      will be up presently again to bring you down.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke low, and in an accent that Dolores afterwards learnt was Scotch;
+      and she was a tall, thin, bony woman, with sandy hair, who looked as if
+      she had never been young. She brushed and plaited the dark hair in a
+      manner that seemed to the owner more wearisome and less tender than
+      Caroline&rsquo;s fashion; and did not talk more than to inquire into the fashion
+      of wearing it, and to say that Miss Mohun&rsquo;s boxes had been sent from
+      London, demanding the keys that they might be unpacked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I can do that myself,&rsquo; said Dolores, who did not like any stranger to
+      meddle with her things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ye could tak them oot, nae doubt, but I must sort them. It&rsquo;s my lady&rsquo;s
+      orders,&rsquo; said Mrs. Halfpenny, with all the determination of the sergeant,
+      her husband, and Dolores, with a sense of despair, and a sort of
+      expectation that she should be deprived of all her treasures on one plea
+      or another, gave up the keys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Halfpenny then observed that the frock which had been worn for the
+      last two days on the railway, and evening and morning, needed a better
+      brushing and setting to rights than she had had time to give it. She had
+      better take out another. Which box were her frocks in?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores expected her heartless relations to insist on her leaving off her
+      mourning, and she knew she ought to struggle and shed tears over it; but,
+      to tell the truth, she was a good deal tired of her hot and fusty black;
+      and when she had followed Mrs. Halfpenny into a passage where the boxes
+      stood uncorded; and the first dress that came to light was a pretty
+      fresh-looking holland that had been sent home just before the accident,
+      she exclaimed&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, let me put that on.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Bless me, miss, it has blue braid, and you in mourning for your poor
+      mamma!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores stood abashed, but a grey alpaca, which she had always much
+      disliked, came out next, and Mrs. Halfpenny decided that with her black
+      ribbons that would do, though it turned out to be rather shockingly short,
+      and to show a great display of black legs; but as the box containing the
+      clothes in present wear had not come to hand, this must stand for the
+      present&mdash;and besides, a voice was heard, saying, &lsquo;Is Dora ready?&rsquo; and
+      a young person darted up, put her arms round her neck, and kissed her
+      before she knew what she was about. &lsquo;Mamma said I should come because I am
+      just your age, thirteen and a half,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;I&rsquo;m Mysie, though my
+      proper name is Maria Millicent.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores looked her over. She was a good deal taller than herself, and had
+      rich-looking shining brown hair, dark brown eyes full of merriment, and a
+      bright rosy colour, and she danced on her active feet as if she were full
+      of perpetual life. &lsquo;All happy and not caring,&rsquo; thought Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now don&rsquo;t fash Miss Mohun with your tricks. She has stood like a lamb,&rsquo; 
+      said Mrs. Halfpenny reprovingly. &lsquo;There, we&rsquo;ll not keep her to find an
+      apron.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t wear pinafores,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;but I don&rsquo;t mind pretty aprons like
+      this. &lsquo;Why, my sisters had them for tennis, before they went out to India.
+      Come along, Dora,&rsquo; grasping her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My name isn&rsquo;t Dora,&rsquo; said the new-comer, as they went down the passage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Mysie, in a low voice; &lsquo;but mamma told Gill&mdash;that&rsquo;s
+      Gillian, and me, that we had better not tell anybody, because if the boys
+      heard they might tease you so about it; for Wilfred is a tease, and
+      there&rsquo;s no stopping him when mamma isn&rsquo;t there. So she said she would call
+      you Dora, or Dolly, whichever you liked, and you are not a bit like a
+      Dolly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They always called me Dolly,&rsquo; said Dolores; &lsquo;and if I am not to have my
+      name, I like that best; but I had rather have my proper name.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, very well,&rsquo; said Mysie; &lsquo;it is more out of the way, only it is very
+      long.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By this time they had descended a long narrow flight of uncarpeted stairs,
+      &lsquo;the back ones,&rsquo; as Mysie explained, and had reached a slippery oak hall
+      with high-backed chairs, and all the odds and ends of a family-garden
+      hats, waterproofs, galoshes, bats, rackets, umbrellas, etc., ranged round,
+      and a great white cockatoo upon a stand, who observed&mdash;&lsquo;Mysie, Cockie
+      wants his breakfast,&rsquo; as they went by towards the door, whence proceeded a
+      hubbub of voices and a clatter of knives and jingle of teaspoons and cups,
+      a room that as Mysie threw open the door seemed a blaze of sunshine,
+      pouring in at the large window, and reflected in the glass and silver.
+      Yes, and in the bright eyes and glossy hair of the party who sat round the
+      breakfast-table, further brightened by the fire, pleasant in the early
+      autumn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eyes, as it seemed to Dolores, eyes without number were levelled on her,
+      as Mysie led her in, saying&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s a place by mamma; she kept it for you, between her and Uncle
+      William.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, don&rsquo;t all jump up at once and rush at her,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield.
+      &lsquo;Give her a little time. Here, my dear;&rsquo; and she held out her hand and
+      drew in the stranger to her, kissing her kindly, and placing her in a
+      chair close to herself, as she presided over the teacups&mdash;not at the
+      end, but at the middle of the table&mdash;while all that could be desired
+      to eat and drink found its way at once to Dolores, who had arrived at
+      being hungry now, and was glad to have the employment for hands and eyes,
+      instead of feeling herself gazed at. She was not so much occupied,
+      however, as not to perceive that Uncle William&rsquo;s voice had a free, merry
+      ring in it, such as she had never heard in his visits to her father, and
+      that there was a great deal of fun and laughter going on over the thin
+      sheets of an Indian letter, which Aunt Lily was reading aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No one seemed to be attending to anything else, when Dolores ventured to
+      cast a glance around and endeavour to count heads as she sat between her
+      uncle and aunt. Two boys and a girl were opposite. Harry, who had come to
+      meet them last night, was at one end of the table, a tall girl, but still
+      a schoolroom girl, was at the other, and Mysie had been lost sights of on
+      her own side of the table; also there was a very tiny girl on a high chair
+      on the other side of her mamma. &lsquo;Seven,&rsquo; thought Dolores with sinking
+      heart. &lsquo;Eight oppressors!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures. One boy, at the further
+      corner, had a cast in his eye, and was thin and wizen-looking, and when he
+      saw her eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got rid of like a
+      flash of lightning before any one else could see it, but her heart sank
+      all the more for it. He must be Wilfred, the teaser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in some kind of soft grey,
+      with a little carnation colour at her throat, and a pretty lace cap on her
+      still rich, abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search could only
+      detect a very few white threads. Her complexion was always of a soft,
+      paly, brunette tint, and though her cheeks showed signs that she was not
+      young, her dark, soft, long-lashed eyes and sweet-looking lips made her
+      face full of life and freshness; and the figure and long slender hands had
+      the kind of grace that some people call willowy, but which is perhaps more
+      like the general air of a young birch tree, or, as Hal had once said,
+      &lsquo;Early pointed architecture reminded him of his mother.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little one was getting restless, and two of the boys began filliping
+      crumbs at one another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Wilfred! Fergus!&rsquo; said the mother quite low and gently; but they stopped
+      directly. &lsquo;We will say grace,&rsquo; she said, lifting the little one down.
+      &lsquo;Now, Primrose.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every one stood up, to Dolores&rsquo; surprise, a pair of little fat hands were
+      put together, a little clear voice said a few words of thanksgiving
+      perfectly pronounced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You may go, if you like,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;Hal, take care of Prim.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who took the hand of little
+      Primrose, a beautiful little maiden with rich chestnut wavy curls. They
+      all paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the girls a little
+      curtsey. Primrose&rsquo;s was as pretty a little &lsquo;bob&rsquo; as ever was seen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am glad you keep that custom up,&rsquo; said Mr. Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it to be the habit among us;
+      and I find it a great protection against bouncing and rudeness.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Dolly&rsquo;s blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, military nonsense.
+      She would never give in to it, if they made her live on bread and water!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened out their breakfast from
+      politeness to her, had finished when she had, and the pony-chaise came to
+      the door, in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the station.
+      Everybody flocked to the door to bid him good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias
+      stooped down to ask Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite well,
+      Mysie standing anxiously by as if she felt her a great charge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Quite well, quite rested, thank you,&rsquo; the girl answered in her stiff, shy
+      way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent comes. The children
+      generally spend it in feeding the creatures. I am not going to give a
+      holiday, because I think people get more pleasantly acquainted over
+      something, than over nothing, to do, but you need not begin lessons to-day
+      if you had rather settle your thoughts and write your letters.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I had rather begin at once,&rsquo; said Dolores, who thought she would now
+      establish her pre-eminence at the cost of any amount of jealousy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very well, then, when you hear the gong&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma,&rsquo; said Mysie solemnly, after long waiting, &lsquo;she says she had rather
+      not be called out of her name.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought you had been called Dolly, my dear.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, at home,&rsquo; with a strong emphasis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to keep to your proper name at
+      once. We won&rsquo;t take liberties with it, till you feel as if you could call
+      this home,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, looking as if she would have kissed her
+      niece on the slightest encouragement, but no one ever looked less kissable
+      than Dolores Mohun at that moment. Was it not cruel and hypocritical to
+      talk of this tiresome multitude as ever making home?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. &mdash; TURNED IN AMONG THEM
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you like pets?&rsquo; asked Mysie eagerly, as her mother left the two girls
+      together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I never had any,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh how dreadful! Why, old Cockie, and Aga and Begum, the two oldest
+      pussies, have been everywhere with us. And, besides, there&rsquo;s Basto, the
+      big Pyrenean dog, and,&mdash;oh, here comes little Quiz, mamma&rsquo;s little
+      Maltese&mdash;Quiz, Quiz.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or cats; and the little
+      spun-glass looking dog smelt about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I must go and feed my guinea-pig,&rsquo; said Mysie; &lsquo;won&rsquo;t you come? Here are
+      some over shoes and Poncho.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but it turned out to be a
+      sort of cape, and she discovered that all the cloaks and most of the
+      sticks had names of their own. She was afraid to be left standing on the
+      steps alone lest any amount of animals or boys should fall on her there,
+      so she consented to accompany Mysie, who shuffled along in a pair of
+      overshoes vastly too big for her, since she had put her cousin into the
+      well-fitting ones. She chattered all the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We do like this place so. It is the nicest we have ever been in. All that
+      is wanting is that papa will buy it, and then we shall never go away
+      again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a homely-looking, roomy,
+      red-brick house, covered with creepers&mdash;the Virginian one with its
+      leaves just beginning to be painted. There was a bright sunny garden full
+      of flowers in front, and then a paddock, with cows belonging to a farmer,
+      Mysie said. It was her ambition to have them of their own &lsquo;when papa came
+      home,&rsquo; when all good things were to happen. Behind there were large
+      stable-yards and offices, too large for Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s one horse and
+      one pony, and thus available for the children&rsquo;s menagerie of rabbits,
+      guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like. On the way Mysie was only too happy to
+      explain the family as she called it, when she had recovered from her
+      astonishment that Dolores, always living in England, could not &lsquo;count up
+      her cousins.&rsquo; &lsquo;Why they always had been shown their photographs on a
+      Sunday evening after the Bible pictures, and even little Primrose knew all
+      the likeness, even of those she had never seen.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The catalogue of names and ages followed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, and a sense that one
+      Maude was worth all the eight put together with whom she was called on to
+      be familiar. She found herself standing in a court, rather grass-grown,
+      where Gillian, with little Primrose by her side, was flinging peas to a
+      number of pigeons, grey, white, and brown, who fluttered round her.
+      Valetta and Fergus were on the granary steps, throwing meal and sop mixed
+      together to a host of cackling, struggling fowls, who tried to leap over
+      each other&rsquo;s backs. Wilfred seemed busy at some hutches where some rabbits
+      twitched their noses at cabbage leaves. Mysie proceeded to minister to
+      some black and rust-coloured guinea-pigs, which Dolores thought very ugly,
+      uninteresting, and odorous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, and cats and kittens
+      parading before people&rsquo;s feet, so that Dolores felt as if she had been
+      turned into a den of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again
+      venturing into the court at &lsquo;feeding-time.&rsquo; A big bell gathered all the
+      children up together into a race to the house. There was another scurry to
+      change shoes and wash hands, and then Mysie conducted her cousin into a
+      large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the ground floor, with deep windows,
+      and numerous little, solid-looking deal tables. There were Lady Merrifield
+      and a young lady in spectacles, to whom Dolores was presented as &lsquo;your new
+      pupil,&rsquo; and every one sat down at one of the little tables, on which there
+      were Bibles and Prayer-books.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her. Dolores found a
+      table ready for her with the books. A passage in the New Testament was
+      given out and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, which was
+      the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady Merrifield gave a short lesson on
+      it, asking questions, and causing references to be found, according to a
+      book of notes, she had ready at hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just like a charity school,&rsquo; thought Dolores, when she was able to glance
+      at the time-table, and saw that two days in the week there was Old
+      Testament, two days New, one day Catechism, one day Prayer-book. Only half
+      an hour was thus appropriated, but to her mind it was an old-fashioned
+      waste of time, and very tiresome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came a ring at the door-bell. &lsquo;Mr. Poulter,&rsquo; she heard, and to her
+      amazement, she found that Gillian and Mysie, as well as their brothers,
+      had Latin lessons in the dining-room with the curate. The two girls and
+      Fergus only went to him every other day, Wilfred every day, as Gillian was
+      learning Greek and mathematics. What was Dolores to do?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Have you done any Latin, my dear?&rsquo; asked her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not yet. Father wished to be quite convinced that the professor was a
+      good scholar,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very well. We will wait a little,&rsquo; said Aunt Lilias, and Dolores
+      indignantly thought that she was amused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-room, whither her mother
+      followed with Primrose&rsquo;s little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano to
+      Valetta, and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss Vincent
+      examined the new-comer, which she did by giving her some questions to
+      answer in writing, and some French and German to translate and parse also
+      in writing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The music was inconvenient to a girl who had always prepared her work
+      alone. She could do the language work easily, but the questions teased
+      her. They seemed to her of no use, and quite out of her beat. No dates,
+      none of the subject she had specially got up. Why, if Miss Vincent did not
+      know that people were not to be expected to answer stupid questions about
+      history quite out of their own line, that was her fault.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top of her pen till her
+      aunt came back, and there was a change in occupations all round, resulting
+      in her having to read French aloud, which she knew she did well; but it
+      was provoking to find that Gillian read quite as well, and knew a word at
+      which she had made a shot, and a wrong one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She heard the observation pass between her aunt and the governess,
+      &lsquo;Languages fair, but she seems to have very little general information.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      General information, indeed! Just as if she who had lived in London, gone
+      to lectures, and travelled on the Continent, must not know more than these
+      children cast up and down in a soldier&rsquo;s life; and as if her Fraulein,
+      with all her diplomas, must not be far superior to a mere little daily
+      governess, and a mother! It was all for the sake of depreciating her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At twelve o&rsquo;clock, to her further indignation, she found there was to be
+      an hour of reading aloud and of needlework-actual plain needlework. The
+      three girls were making under-garments for themselves; and on Dolores
+      proving to have no work of any sort, her aunt sent Gillian to the drawer,
+      and produced a child&rsquo;s pinafore, which she was desired to hem. Each,
+      however, had a quarter of an hour&rsquo;s reading aloud of history to do in
+      turn, all from one big book, a history of Rome, and there was a map hung
+      up over the black board, where they were in turn to point to the places
+      mentioned. Before Gillian began reading, the date, and something about the
+      former lesson was required to be told by the children, and it came quite
+      readily, Valetta especially declaring that she did love Pyrrhus, which the
+      others seemed to think very bad taste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and thought it foolish to
+      study anything that did not tell in a Cambridge examination; but she
+      supposed they knew no better down there; and when it came to her turn to
+      read, she mangled the names so, that Val burst out laughing when she spoke
+      of A-pious-Claudius. Lady Merrifield hushed this at once, and the girl
+      read in a bewildered manner, and as one affronted. She saw he aunt looking
+      at her piece of hemming, which, to say the truth, would not have done
+      credit to Primrose, and the recollection came across her of all the
+      oppressed orphans who had been made household drudges, so that her reading
+      did not become more intelligible. As the clock struck one, a warning gong
+      was heard; everybody jumped up, the work was folded away, and with the
+      obeisance at the door, Gillian and Val ran away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to tidy the room; and Lady
+      Merrifield said to Dolores&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I must teach you how to hold your needle tomorrow, my dear.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hate work,&rsquo; responded Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Val does not like it,&rsquo; said her aunt; &lsquo;nor indeed did I at your age; but
+      one cannot be an independent woman without being able to take care of
+      one&rsquo;s own clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn better
+      than I did. Do you like a take a run with Mysie before dinner? Or there is
+      the amusing shelf. Books may be taken out after one o&rsquo;clock, and they must
+      be put back at eight, or they are confiscated for the ensuing day,&rsquo; she
+      added, pointing to a paper below where this sentence was written.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to make friends with the
+      books than with the cousins. There were fewer than she expected, and
+      nothing like so many absolute stories as she was used to reading with
+      Maude Sefton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Those are such grown-up books,&rsquo; she said to Mysie, who came to assist her
+      choice, and pointed to the upper shelves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, but grown-up books are nicest!&rsquo; returned Mysie; &lsquo;at least, when they
+      don&rsquo;t begin being stupid and marrying too soon. They must do it at last to
+      get out of the story, and it&rsquo;s nicer than dying, but they can have lots of
+      nice adventures first. But here are the &lsquo;Feats on the Fiords&rsquo; and the
+      &lsquo;Crofton Boys&rsquo; and &lsquo;Water Babies,&rsquo; and all the volumes of &lsquo;Aunt Judy,&rsquo; if
+      you like the younger sort. Or the dear, dear &lsquo;Thorn Fortress;&rsquo; that&rsquo;s good
+      for young and old.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Haven&rsquo;t you any books of your own?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes; this &lsquo;Thorn Fortress&rsquo; is Val&rsquo;s, and &lsquo;A York and a Lancaster Rose&rsquo; 
+      is mine, but whenever any one gives us a book, if it is not a weeny little
+      gem like Gill&rsquo;s &lsquo;Christian Year,&rsquo; or my &lsquo;Little Pillow,&rsquo; or Val&rsquo;s
+      &lsquo;Children in the Wood,&rsquo; we bring it to mother, and if it is nice, we keep
+      it here, for every one to read. If it is just rather silly, and stupid, we
+      may read it once, and then she keeps it; and if it is very silly indeed,
+      she puts it out of the way.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Have you got many books?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes; but I don&rsquo;t mean to have them knocked about by all the boys, nor put
+      out of the way neither.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma said we were to be all like sisters,&rsquo; said Mysie, with rather a
+      craving for the new books; but Dolores tossed up her head and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We can&rsquo;t be. It&rsquo;s nonsense to say so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady Merrifield, who was looking at
+      some exercises that Miss Vincent had laid before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;is it fair that Dolores should read our books, if she
+      won&rsquo;t give you up hers to look over, and be like ours?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mysie,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;you can&rsquo;t expect Dolores to like all our
+      home plans till she is used to them. No, my dear, you need not be afraid;
+      you shall keep your books in your own room, and nobody shall meddle with
+      them. I am sure your cousins would not wish to be so unkind as to deprive
+      you of the use of theirs.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take &lsquo;Tom Brown,&rsquo; it was time
+      for the general flight to prepare for dinner, and she found her room made
+      to look very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her books and little
+      knickknacks had been put out, not quite as she preferred, but still so as
+      to make the place seem like her own. She was pleased enough to be quite
+      gracious to Mysie and Val who came to visit her, and to offer to let them
+      read any of her books; when they both thanked her and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If mamma lets us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, then you won&rsquo;t have them,&rsquo; said Dolores; &lsquo;I&rsquo;m not going to let her
+      have my books to take away.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t think she would take them away, when she said she wouldn&rsquo;t?&rsquo; 
+      said Mysie, hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why, what would she do if she didn&rsquo;t happen to approve of them?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only tell us not to read them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And wouldn&rsquo;t you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why, Dolores!&rsquo; in such a tone as made her ashamed of her question; and
+      she said, &lsquo;Well, father never makes any fuss about what I read. He has
+      other things to think of.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How do you get books, then?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I buy them. And Maude Sefton, she&rsquo;s my great friend, has lots given to
+      her, but nobody bothers about reading them. They aren&rsquo;t grown-up books,
+      you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How stupid,&rsquo; said Val. &lsquo;You had better read the &lsquo;Talisman,&rsquo; and then
+      you&rsquo;ll see how nice a grown-up book is.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The &lsquo;Talisman!&rsquo; Why, Maude Sefton&rsquo;s brother had to get it up for his
+      holiday task, and he said it was all rot and bosh.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What a horridly stupid boy he must be,&rsquo; returned Mysie. &lsquo;Why, I remember
+      when Jasper once had the &lsquo;Talisman&rsquo; to do, and the big ones were so
+      delighted. Mamma read it out, and I was just old enough to listen. I
+      remembered all about Sir Kenneth and Roswal.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Tom Sefton&rsquo;s not stupid!&rsquo; said Dolores, in wrath; &lsquo;but&mdash;but the book
+      is stupid and out of date! I heard father and the professor say it was
+      gone by.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie and Valetta looked perfectly astounded, and Dolores pursued her
+      advantage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course it is all very well for you that have never lived in London,
+      nor had any advantages.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But we have advantages!&rsquo; cried Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t know what advantages are,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There&rsquo;s the gong,&rsquo; cried Mysie, and down they all plunged into the
+      dining-room, where the family were again collected, with Hal at one end
+      and his mother at the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was amazed when, at the first pause, after every one was help,
+      Valetta&rsquo;s voice arose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma, what are advantages?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you know, Val?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dolores says we haven&rsquo;t any. And I said we have. And she says I don&rsquo;t
+      know what advantages are.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hal and Gillian were both laughing with all their might. Their mother kept
+      her countenance, and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I suppose every one has advantages of some sort, and perhaps without
+      knowing them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure I know,&rsquo; cried Fergus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, what are they?&rsquo; asked Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Having mamma!&rsquo; cried the little boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hear, hear! That&rsquo;s right, Fergy man! Couldn&rsquo;t be better!&rsquo; cried Harry,
+      and there was a general acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie with the
+      fear that her motherless cousin might feel the contrast, and, though
+      against rules, she whispered&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She will make you like one of us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That wasn&rsquo;t what I meant,&rsquo; returned Dolores, a little contemptuously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What did you mean?&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why, you&rsquo;ve no classes, nor lectures, nor master, and only just a mere
+      daily governess.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her neighbour, but Mysie
+      demanded&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What, do you want to be doing lessons all day long?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, but good governesses never are daily!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s a pity,&rsquo; said Gillian, turning round on her. &lsquo;Perhaps you don&rsquo;t
+      know that Miss Vincent has a First Class Cambridge Certificate in
+      everything, and is daily, because she likes to live with her mother.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think,&rsquo; added Lady Merrifield, with a smile, &lsquo;that Dolores has been in
+      the way of seeing more clever people, and getting superior teaching of
+      some kind, but we will do the best we can for her, and try not to let her
+      miss many advantages.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores felt a little abashed, and decidedly angry at being put in the
+      wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The elders kindly turned away the general attention from her. There was a
+      great deal of merry family fun going on, which was quite like a new
+      language to her. Fergus and Primrose wanted to go out in search of
+      blackberries. Gillian undertook to drive them in the cart, but as the
+      donkey had once or twice refused to cross a little stream of water that
+      traversed the road, the brothers foretold that she would ignominiously
+      come back again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Gill and water are perilous!&rsquo; observed Hal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Jack&rsquo;s not here,&rsquo; said Gillian; &lsquo;besides, it is down, not up the hill,
+      and I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t want to draw a pail of water.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No&mdash;Sancho will do that.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The gong will sound and sound, buzz and roar,&rsquo; said Wilfred. &lsquo;No Gill! no
+      little ones! We shall send out and find them stuck fast in the lane,
+      Sancho with his feet spread out wide, Gill with three or four sticks lying
+      broken on the road round her, the kids reduced to eating blackberries like
+      the children in the wood.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t Fred,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;You&rsquo;ll frighten them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Little donkeys!&rsquo; said Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If they were, we shouldn&rsquo;t want Sancho,&rsquo; said Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not a very sublime bit of wit, but there was a great laugh at it
+      all round the table. Val and Fergus declared they would go too, till they
+      heard that Nurse Halfpenny said she would not let the little ones go out
+      without her to tear their clothes to pieces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every one unanimously declared that would be no fun at all, and turned to
+      mamma to beg her to forbid nurse to come out and spoil everything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s just her view,&rsquo; said mamma, laughing; &lsquo;she thinks you spoil
+      everything.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s clothes! Spoiling fun is worse.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But were you really going with the old Halfpenny, Gill?&rsquo; said Mysie,
+      turning to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;You know I can manage her pretty well when it is
+      only the little ones and they wouldn&rsquo;t have any pleasure otherwise.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh come, Gill,&rsquo; intreated Fergus, &lsquo;or nurse will make us sit in the
+      donkey-cart all the time while Lois picks the blackberries!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma, do tell her not to come,&rsquo; intreated Valetta, and more of them
+      joined in with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, my dears, I don&rsquo;t like to vex her when she thinks she is doing her
+      duty.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She wouldn&rsquo;t come if you did, mamma,&rsquo; and there was a general outcry of
+      intreaty that mamma would come with them, and defend them from Mrs.
+      Halfpenny, as Fergus, who was rather a formal little fellow, expressed it,
+      and mamma, after a little consideration, consented to drive the
+      pony-carriage in that direction, and to announce to Nurse Halfpenny that
+      she herself would take charge of the children. Whereupon there was a whoop
+      and a war-dance of jubilee, quite overwhelming to Dolores, who could not
+      but privately ask Mysie if Nurse Halfpenny was so very cross.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Awfully,&rsquo; said Mysie, and Wilfred added&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;As savage as a bear with a sore head.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Like Mrs. Crabtree?&rsquo; asked Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Exactly. Jasper called her so when he wanted to lash her up, till at lash
+      she got hold of his &lsquo;Holiday House&rsquo; and threw it into the sea, and it was
+      in Malta and we couldn&rsquo;t get another,&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And haven&rsquo;t you one?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Gill and I save for it; but mamma only let us have it on condition
+      we made a solemn promise never to tease nurse about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And does she go at you with that dreadful thing&mdash;what&rsquo;s it name&mdash;the
+      tawse?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! you&rsquo;ll soon know,&rsquo; said Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no; nonsense, Fred,&rsquo; said Mysie, as Dolores&rsquo; face worked with
+      consternation. &lsquo;She never hits us, not if we are ever so tiresome. Papa
+      and mamma would not let her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But why do they let her be so dreadful? Maude&rsquo;s nurse used to be horrid
+      and slap her, and when her mother found it out the woman was sent away
+      directly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nurse Halfpenny isn&rsquo;t that sort,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;Her husband was papa&rsquo;s
+      colour-sergeant, and he got a sun-stroke and died, and then she came when
+      Gillian was just born, and so weak and tiny that she would never have
+      lived if nurse hadn&rsquo;t watched her day and night, and so Gillian&rsquo;s her
+      favourite, except the youngest, and she is ever so good, you know. I&rsquo;ve
+      heard the ladies, when we were with the dear old 111th, telling mamma how
+      they envied her her trustworthy treasure.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure they might have had her at half-price,&rsquo; said Wilfred. &lsquo;She&rsquo;s be
+      dear at a farthing!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment Mrs. Halfpenny&rsquo;s voice was heard demanding if it were
+      really her ladyship&rsquo;s pleasure to go out, fatiguing herself to the very
+      death with all the children rampaging about her and tearing themselves to
+      pieces, if not poisoning themselves with all sorts of nasty berries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed I&rsquo;ll take care of them and bring them back safe to you,&rsquo; responded
+      her ladyship, very much in the tone of one of her own children making
+      promises. &lsquo;Put them on their brown hollands and they can&rsquo;t come to much
+      harm.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, if it&rsquo;s your wish, ma&rsquo;am, my leddy; what must be, must, but I know
+      how it will be&mdash;you&rsquo;ll come back tired out, fit to drop, and Miss Val
+      and Miss Primrose won&rsquo;t have a rag fit to be seen on them. But if it&rsquo;s
+      your will, what must be must, for you&rsquo;re no better than a bairn yourself,
+      general&rsquo;s lady though you be, and G.C.B.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, nurse, you&rsquo;ll be G.C.B.&mdash;Grand Commander of the Bath&mdash;when
+      we come home,&rsquo; called out Hall, who was leaning on the banister at the
+      bottom, and there was a general laugh, during which Dolly tardily climbed
+      the stairs, so tardily that her aunt, meeting her, asked whether she was
+      still tired, and if she would rather have the afternoon to arrange her
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She said &lsquo;yes,&rsquo; but not &lsquo;thank you,&rsquo; and went on, relieved that Mysie did
+      not offer to stay and help her, and yet rather offended at being left
+      alone, while all the others went their own way. She heard them pattering
+      and clattering, shouting and calling up and down the passages, and then
+      came a great silence, while they could be seen going down the drive, some
+      on foot, some in the pony-chaise or donkey-cart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her things had all been unpacked and put in order, and her room had a very
+      cheerful window. It was prettily furnished with fresh pink and white
+      dimity, and choice-looking earthenware, but to London eyes like those of
+      Dolores it seemed very old-fashioned and what she called &lsquo;poked up.&rsquo; The
+      paper was ugly, the chimney-piece was a narrow, painting thing, of the
+      same dull, stone-colour as the door and the window-frame. And then the
+      clear air, the perfect stillness, the absence of anything moving in the
+      view from the window gave the citybred child a sense of dreadful
+      loneliness and dreariness as she sat on the side of her bed, with one foot
+      under her, gazing dolefully round her, and in he head composing her own
+      memoirs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Fully occupied with their own plans and amusements, the lonely orphan was
+      left in solitude. Her aunt knew not how her heart ached after the home she
+      had left, but the machine of the family went its own way and trod her
+      under its wheels.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was such a fine sentence that it was almost a comfort, and she
+      thought of writing it to Maude Sefton, but as she got up to fetch her
+      writing-case from the schoolroom, she saw that her books were standing
+      just in the way she did not like, and with all the volumes mixed up
+      together. So she tumbled them all out of the shelves on the floor, and at
+      that moment Mrs. Halfpenny looked into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, to be sure!&rsquo; she exclaimed, &lsquo;when me and Lois have been working at
+      them books all the morning.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They were all nohow&mdash;as I don&rsquo;t like them,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, very well, please yourself then, miss, if that&rsquo;s all the thanks you
+      have in your pocket, you may put them up your own way, for all I care.
+      Only my lady will have the young ladies&rsquo; rooms kept neat and orderly, or
+      they lose marks for it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t want any help,&rsquo; said Dolores, crossly, and Mrs. Halfpenny shut
+      the door with a bang. &lsquo;The menials are insulting me,&rsquo; said Dolores to
+      herself, and a tear came to her eye, while all the time there was a
+      certain mournful satisfaction in being so entirely the heroine of a book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She went to work upon her books, at first hotly and sharply, and very
+      carefully putting the tallest in the centre so as to form a gradual ascent
+      with the tops and not for the world letting a second volume stand before
+      its elder brother, but she soon got tired, took to peeping at one or two
+      parting gifts which she had not yet been able to read, and at last got
+      quite absorbed in the sorrows of a certain Clare, whose golden hair was
+      cut short by her wicked aunt, because it outshone her cousin&rsquo;s sandy
+      locks. There was reason to think that a tress of this same golden hair
+      would lead to her recognition by some grandfather of unknown magnificence,
+      as exactly like that of his long-lost Claribel, and this might result in
+      her assuming splendours that would annihilate the aunt. Things seemed
+      tending to a fracture of the ice under the cruellest cousin of all, and
+      her rescue by Clare, when they would be carried senseless into the great
+      house, and the recognition of Clare and the discomfiture of her foes would
+      take place. How could Dolores shut the book at such a critical moment!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So there she was sitting in the midst of her scattered books, when the
+      galloping and scampering began again, and Mysie knocked at the door to
+      tell her there were pears, apples, biscuits, and milk in the dining-room,
+      and that after consuming them, lessons had to be learnt for the next day,
+      and then would follow amusements, evening toilette, seven o&rsquo;clock tea, and
+      either games or reading aloud till bedtime. As to the books, Mysie stood
+      aghast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought nurse and Lois had done them all for you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They did them all wrong, so I took them down.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oh, dear! We must put them in, or there&rsquo;ll be a report.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A report!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Nurse Halfpenny reports us whenever she doesn&rsquo;t find our rooms tidy,
+      and then we get a bad mark. Perhaps mamma wouldn&rsquo;t give you one this first
+      day, but it is best to make sure. Shall I help you, or you won&rsquo;t have time
+      to eat any pears?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was thankful for help, and the books were scrambled in anyhow on
+      the shelves; for Mysie&rsquo;s good nature was endangering her share of the
+      afternoon&rsquo;s gouter, though perhaps it consoled her that her curiosity was
+      gratified by a hasty glance at the backs of her cousin&rsquo;s story-books.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By the time the two girls got down to the dining-table, every one had left
+      the room, and there only remained one doubtful pear, and three baked
+      apples, besides the loaf and the jug of milk. Mysie explained that not
+      being a regular meal, no one was obliged to come punctually to it, or to
+      come at all, but these who came tardily might fare the worse. As to the
+      blackberries, for which Dolores inquired, the girls were going to make jam
+      of them themselves the next day; but Mysie added, with an effort, she
+      would fetch some, as her cousin had had none in the gathering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no, thank you; I hate blackberries,&rsquo; said Dolores, helping herself to
+      an apple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you?&rsquo; said Mysie, blankly. &lsquo;We don&rsquo;t. They are such fun. You can&rsquo;t
+      think how delicious the great overhanging clusters are in the lane. Some
+      was up so high that Hal had to stand up in the cart to reach them, and to
+      take Fergus up on his shoulder. We never had such a blackberrying as with
+      mamma and Hal to help us. And only think, a great carriage came by, with
+      some very grand people in it; we think it was the Dean; and they looked
+      down the lane and stared, so surprised to see what great mind to call out,
+      &lsquo;Fee, faw, fum.&rsquo; You know nothing makes such a good giant as Fergus
+      standing on Hal&rsquo;s shoulders, and a curtain over them to hide Hal&rsquo;s face.
+      Oh dear, I wish I hadn&rsquo;t told you! You would have been a new person to
+      show it to.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores made very little answer, finished her apple, and followed to the
+      schoolroom, where an irregular verb, some geography, and some dates
+      awaited her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then followed another rush of the populace for the evening meal of the
+      live stock, but in this Dolores was too wary to share. She made her way up
+      to her retreat again, and tried to lose the sense of her trouble and
+      loneliness in a book. Then came the warning bell, and a prodigious
+      scuffling, racing and chasing, accompanied by yells as of terror and roars
+      as of victory, all cut short by the growls of Mrs. Halfpenny. Everything
+      then subsided. The world was dressing; Dolores dressed too, feeling hurt
+      and forlorn at no one&rsquo;s coming to help her, and yet worried when Mysie
+      arrived with orders from Mrs. Halfpenny to come to her to have her sash
+      tied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think a servant ought to come to me. Caroline always does,&rsquo; said the
+      only daughter with dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She can&rsquo;t, for she is putting Primrose to bed. Oh, it&rsquo;s so delicious to
+      see Prim in her bath,&rsquo; said Mysie, with a little skip. &lsquo;Make haste, or we
+      shall miss her, the darling.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not feel pressed to behold the spectacle, and not being in the
+      habit of dressing without assistance, she was tardy, and Mysie fidgeted
+      about and nearly distracted her. Thus, when she reached the nursery,
+      Primrose was already in her little white bed-gown, and was being incited
+      by Valetta to caper about on her cot, like a little acrobat, as her
+      sisters said, while Mrs. Halfpenny declared that &lsquo;they were making the
+      child that rampageous, she should not get her to sleep till midnight.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They would have been turned out much sooner, and Primrose hushed into
+      silence, if nurse&rsquo;s soul had not been horrified by the state of Dolores&rsquo; 
+      hair and the general set of her garments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My certie!&rsquo; she exclaimed&mdash;a dreadful exclamation in the eyes of the
+      family, who knew it implied that in all her experience Mrs. Halfpenny had
+      never known the like! And taking Dolores by the hand, she led the wrathful
+      and indignant girl back into her bedroom, untied and tied, unbuttoned and
+      buttoned, brushed and combed in spite of the second bell ringing, the
+      general scamper, and the sudden apparition of Mysie and Val, whom she bade
+      run away and tell her leddyship that &lsquo;Miss Mohoone should come as soon as
+      she was sorted, but she ought to come up early to have her hair looked to,
+      for &lsquo;twas shame to see how thae fine London servants sorted a motherless
+      bairn.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores felt herself insulted; she turned red all over, with feelings the
+      old Scotchwoman could not understand. She expected to hear the message
+      roared out to the whole assembly round the tea-table, but Mysie had
+      discretion enough to withhold her sister from making it public.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tea itself, though partaken of by Lady Merrifield, seemed an indignity
+      to the young lady accustomed to late dinners. After it, the whole family
+      played at &lsquo;dumb crambo.&rsquo; Dolores was invited to join, and instructed to
+      &lsquo;do the thing you think it is;&rsquo; but she was entirely unused to social
+      games, and thought it only ridiculous and stupid when the word being a
+      rhyme to ite, Fergus gave rather too real a blow to Wilfred, and Gillian
+      answered, &lsquo;&rsquo;Tis not smite;&rsquo; Wilfred held out a hand, and was told, &lsquo;&rsquo;Tis
+      not right;&rsquo; Val flourished in the air as if holding a string, and was
+      informed that &lsquo;kite&rsquo; was wrong; when Hal ran away as if pursued by Fergus
+      by way of flight; and Mysie performed antics which she was finally obliged
+      to explain were those of a sprite. Dolores could not recollect anything,
+      and only felt annoyed at being made to feel stupid by such nonsense, when
+      Mysie tried to make her a present of a suggestion by pointing to the back
+      of a letter. Neither write nor white would come into her head, though
+      little Fergus signalized himself, just before he was swept off to bed, by
+      seizing a pen and making strokes!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After his departure, Lady Merrifield read aloud &lsquo;The Old oak Staircase,&rsquo; 
+      which had been kept to begin when Dolores came, Hal taking the book in
+      turn with his mother. And so ended Dolores&rsquo; first day of banishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. &mdash; THE FIRST WALK
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What a lot of letters for you, mamma!&rsquo; cried Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Papa!&rsquo; exclaimed Fergus and Primrose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, it is not the right day, my dears. But here is a letter from Aunt
+      Ada.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; in a different tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She writes for Aunt Jane. They will come down here next Monday because
+      Aunt Jane is wanted to address the girls at the G.F.S. festival on
+      Tuesday.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aunt Jane seems to have taken to public speaking,&rsquo; said Harry. &lsquo;It would
+      be rather a lark to hear her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You may have a chance,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;for here is a note from
+      Mrs. Blackburn to ask if I will be so very kind as to let them have the
+      festival here. They had reckoned upon Tillington Park, where they have
+      always had it before, but they hear that all the little Tillingtons have
+      the measles, and they don&rsquo;t think it safe to venture there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It will be great fun!&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;We will have all sorts of games,
+      only I&rsquo;m afraid they will be much stupider than the Irish girls.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And ever so much stupider than the dear 111th children,&rsquo; sighed Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aren&rsquo;t they all great big girls?&rsquo; asked Valetta, disconsolately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I believe twelve years old is the limit,&rsquo; said her mother.
+      &lsquo;Twelve-year-old girls have plenty of play in them, Vals, haven&rsquo;t they,
+      Mysie? Let me see&mdash;two hundred and thirty of them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For you to feast?&rsquo; asked Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, no&mdash;that cost comes out of their own funds, Mrs. Blackburn takes
+      care to tell me, and Miss Hacket will find some one in Siverfold who will
+      provide tables and forms and crockery. I must go down and talk to Miss
+      Hacket as soon as lessons are over. Or perhaps it would save time and
+      trouble if I wrote and asked her to come up to luncheon and see the
+      capabilities of the place. Why, what&rsquo;s the matter?&rsquo; pausing at the blank
+      looks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The jam, mamma&mdash;the blackberry jam!&rsquo; cried Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We can&rsquo;t do it without Gill, and she will have to be after that Miss
+      Constance,&rsquo; explained Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! never mind. She won&rsquo;t stay all the afternoon,&rsquo; said Gillian,
+      cheerfully. &lsquo;Luncheon people don&rsquo;t.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but then there will be lessons to be learnt.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Look here, Val,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;if you and Mysie will learn your lessons
+      for tomorrow while I&rsquo;m bound to Miss Con., I&rsquo;ll do mine some time in the
+      evening, and be free for the jam when she is gone.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The dear delicious jam!&rsquo; cried Val, springing about upon her chair; and
+      Lady Merrifield further said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wonder whether Mysie and Dolores would like to take the note down. They
+      could bring back a message by word of mouth.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, thank you, mamma!&rsquo; cried Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then I will write the note as soon as we have done breakfast. Don&rsquo;t
+      dawdle, Fergus boy.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mayn&rsquo;t I go?&rsquo; demanded Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, my dear. It is your morning with Mr. Poulter. And you must take care
+      not to come back later than eleven, Mysie dear; I cannot have him kept
+      waiting. Dolores, do you like to go?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, please,&rsquo; said Dolores, partly because it was at any rate gain to
+      escape from that charity-school lesson in the morning, and partly because
+      Valetta was looking at her in the ardent hope that she would refuse the
+      privilege of the walk, and it therefore became valuable; but there was so
+      little alacrity in her voice that her aunt asked her whether she were
+      quite rested and really liked the walk, which would be only half a mile to
+      the outskirts of the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, and replied that she
+      was quite well, and didn&rsquo;t mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were sent off to get ready,
+      while Aunt Lilias wrote her note in pencil at the corner of the table,
+      which she never left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their meal;
+      but she had to silence a storm at the &lsquo;didn&rsquo;t mind&rsquo;&mdash;Gillian even
+      venturing to ask how she could send one to whom it was evidently no
+      pleasure to go. &lsquo;I think she likes it more than she shows,&rsquo; said the
+      mother, &lsquo;and she wants air, and will settle to her lessons the better for
+      it. What&rsquo;s that, Val?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was my turn, mamma,&rsquo; said Valetta, in an injured voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It will be your turn next, Val,&rsquo; said her mother, cheerfully. &lsquo;Dolores
+      comes between you and Mysie, so she must take her place accordingly. And
+      today we grant her the privilege of the new-comer.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, while she was going
+      upstairs to put on her hat, the recollection had not occurred to her of
+      one of the victim&rsquo;s of an aunt&rsquo;s cruelty who was always made to run on
+      errands while her favoured cousins were at their studies. Was this the
+      beginning? Somehow, though her better sense knew this was a foolish fancy,
+      she had a secret pleasure in pitying herself, and posing to herself as a
+      persecuted heroine. And then she was greatly fretted to find the housemaid
+      in her room, looking as if no one else had any business there. What was
+      worse, she could not find her jacket. She pulled out all her drawers with
+      fierce, noisy jerks, and then turned round on the maid, sharply demanding&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Who has taken my jacket?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t know, Miss Dollars. You&rsquo;d best ask Mrs. Halfpenny.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If&mdash;&rsquo; but at that moment Mysie ran in, holding the jacket in her
+      hand. &lsquo;I saw it in the nursery,&rsquo; she said, triumphantly. &lsquo;Nurse had taken
+      it to mend! Come along. Where&rsquo;s your hat?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But there was pursuit; Mrs. Halfpenny was at the door. &lsquo;Young ladies, you
+      are not going out of the policy in that fashion.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma sent us. Mamma wants us to take a note in a hurry. Only to Miss
+      Hacket,&rsquo; pleaded Mysie, as Mrs. Halfpenny laid violent hands on her brown
+      Holland jacket, observing&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My leddy never bade ye run off mair like a wild worricow than a general
+      officer&rsquo;s daughter, Miss Mysie. What&rsquo;s that? Only Miss Hacket, do you say?
+      You should respect yourself and them you come of mair than to show
+      yourself to a blind beetle in an unbecoming way. &lsquo;Tis well that there&rsquo;s
+      one in the house that knows what is befitting. Miss Dollars, you stand
+      still; I must sort your necktie before you go. &lsquo;Tis all of a wisp. Miss
+      Mysie, you tell your mamma that I should be fain to know her pleasure
+      about Miss Dollars&rsquo; frocks. She&rsquo;ve scarce got one&mdash;coloured or
+      mourning&mdash;that don&rsquo;t want altering.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Halfpenny always caused Dolores such extreme astonishment and awe
+      that she obeyed her instantly, but to be turned about and tidied by an
+      authoritative hand was extremely disagreeable to the independent young
+      lady. Caroline had never treated her thus, being more willing to permit
+      untidiness than to endure her temper. She only durst, after the pair were
+      released, remonstrate with Mysie on being termed Miss Dollars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They can&rsquo;t make out your name,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;I tried to teach Lois, but
+      nurse said she had no notion of new-fangled nonsense names.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure Valetta and Primrose are worse.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! but Val was born at Malta, and mamma had always loved the Grand
+      Master La Valetta so much, and had written verses about him when she was
+      only sixteen. And Primrose was named after the first primrose mamma had
+      seen for twelve years&mdash;the first one Val and I had ever seen.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They called me Miss Mohun at home.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but we can&rsquo;t here, because of Aunt Jane.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this was chattered forth on the stairs before the two girls reached
+      the dining-room, where Mysie committed the feeding of her pets to Val, and
+      received the note, with fresh injunctions to come home by eleven, and
+      bring word whether Miss Hacket and Miss Constance would both come to
+      luncheon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh dear!&rsquo; sighed Gillian, and there was a general groan round the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It can&rsquo;t be helped, my dear.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no, I know it can&rsquo;t,&rsquo; said Gillian, resignedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You see,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;Yes, come along, Basto dear. You see Gill has to
+      be&mdash;down, Basto, I say!&mdash;a young lady when.... Never mind him,
+      Dolores, he won&rsquo;t hurt. When Miss Constance Hacket and&mdash;leave her
+      alone, Basto, I say!&mdash;and she is such a goose. Not you, Dolores, but
+      Miss Constance.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh that dog! I wish you would not take him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not take dear old Basto! Why &lsquo;tis such a treat for him to get a walk in
+      the morning&mdash;the delight of his jolly old black heart. Isn&rsquo;t he a
+      dear old fellow? and he never hurt anybody in his life! It&rsquo;s only setting
+      off! He will quiet down in a minute; but I couldn&rsquo;t disappoint him. Could
+      I, my old man?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Never having lived with animals nor entered into their feelings, Dolores
+      could not understand how a dog&rsquo;s pleasure could be preferred to her
+      comfort, and felt a good deal hurt, though Basto&rsquo;s antics subsided as soon
+      as they were past the inner gate shutting in the garden from the paddock,
+      which was let out to a farmer. Mysie, however, ran on as usual with her
+      stream of information&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The Miss Hacket were sister or daughters or something to some old man who
+      used to be clergyman here, and they are all married up but these two, and
+      they&rsquo;ve got the dearest little house you ever saw. They had a nephew in
+      the 111th, and so they came and called on us at once. Miss Hacket is a
+      regular old dear, but we none of us can bear Miss Constance, except that
+      mamma says we ought to be sorry for her because she leads such a confined
+      life. Miss Hacket and Aunt Jane always do go on so about the G.F.S. They
+      both are branch secretaries, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I know! Aunt Jane did bother Mrs. Sefton so that she says she will never
+      have another of those G.F.S. girls. She says it is a society for
+      interference.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma likes it,&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but she is only just come.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes; but she always looked after the school children at Beechcroft before
+      she married, and she and Alethea and Phyllis had the soldiers&rsquo; children up
+      on Sunday. Alethea taught the little drummer boys, and they were so funny.
+      I wonder who teaches them now! Gill always goes down to help Miss Hacket
+      with her G.F.S. classes. She has one on Sunday afternoon, and one on
+      Tuesday for sewing, and she is the only young lady in the place who can do
+      plain needlework properly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Sewing-machines can work. What the use of fussing about it!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They can&rsquo;t mend,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;Besides, do you know, in the American war,
+      all the sewing-machines in the Southern States got out of order, and as
+      all the machinery people were in the north, the poor ladies didn&rsquo;t know
+      what to do, and couldn&rsquo;t work without them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Sewing-machines are a recent invention,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! you didn&rsquo;t think I meant the great old War of Independence. No, I
+      meant the war about the slaves&mdash;secession they called it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is not in the history of England,&rsquo; said Dolores, as if Mysie had no
+      business to look beyond.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why! of course not, when it happened in America. Papa told us about it.
+      He read it in some paper, I think. Don&rsquo;t you like learning things in that
+      way?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No. I don&rsquo;t approve of irregular unsystematic knowledge.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores has heard her mother say something of this kind, and it came into
+      her head most opportunely as a defence of her father&mdash;for she would
+      not for the world have confessed that he did not talk to her as Sir Jasper
+      Merrifield seemed to have done to his children. In fact she rather
+      despised the General for so doing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but it is such fun picking up things out of lesson time!&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is the Edge&mdash;,&rsquo; Dolores was not sure of the word Edgeworthian,
+      so she went on to &lsquo;system. Professor Sefton says he does not approve of
+      harassing children with cramming them with irregular information at all
+      sorts of times. Let play be play and lessons be lessons, he says, not
+      mixed up together, and so Rex and Maude never learnt anything&mdash;not a
+      letter&mdash;till they were seven years old.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How stupid!&rsquo; cried Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Maude&rsquo;s not stupid!&rsquo; cried Dolores, &lsquo;nor the professor either! She&rsquo;s my
+      great friend.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I didn&rsquo;t say she was stupid,&rsquo; said Mysie, apologetically, &lsquo;only that it
+      must be very stupid not to be able to read till one was seven. Could you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, yes. I can&rsquo;t remember when I couldn&rsquo;t read. But Maude used to play
+      with a little girl who could read and talk French at five years old, and
+      she died of water upon her brain.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear me! Primrose can read quite well,&rsquo; said Mysie, somewhat alarmed;
+      &lsquo;but then,&rsquo; she went on in a reassured voice, &lsquo;so could all of us except
+      Jasper and Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibraltar that they
+      were quite stupid while they were there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This discussion brought the two girls across the paddock out into a road
+      with a broad, neat footpath, where numerous little children were being
+      exercised with nurses and perambulators. At first it was bordered by
+      fields on either side, but villas soon began to spring up, and presently
+      the girls reached what looked like a long, low &lsquo;cottage residence,&rsquo; but
+      was really two, with a verandah along the front, and a garden divided in
+      the middle by a paling covered with canary nasturtium shrubs. The verandah
+      on one side was hung with a rich purple pall of the dark clematis, on the
+      other by a Gloire de Dijon rose. There were bright flower beds, and the
+      dormer windows over the verandah looked like smiling eyes under their deep
+      brows of creeper-trimmed verge-board. What London-bred Dolores saw was a
+      sight that shocked her&mdash;a lady standing unbonnetted just beyond the
+      verandah, talking to a girl whose black hat and jacket looked what Mysie
+      called &lsquo;very G.F.S.-y.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady did not turn out to be young or beautiful. She was near middle
+      age, and looked as if she were far too busy to be ever plump; she had a
+      very considerable amount of nose and rather thin, dark hair, done in a
+      fashion which, like that of her navy blue linen dress, looked perfectly
+      antiquated to Dolores. As she saw the two girls at the gate she came down
+      the path eagerly to welcome them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! my dear Mysie! so kind of your dear mother! I thought I should hear
+      from her.&rsquo; And as she kissed Mysie, she added, &lsquo;And this is the new
+      cousin. My dear, I am glad to see you here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores thought her own dignified manner had kept off a kiss, not knowing
+      that Miss Hacket was far too ladylike to be over-familiar, and that there
+      was no need to put on such a forbidding look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie gave her message and note, but Miss Hacket could not give the verbal
+      answer at once till she had consulted her sister. She was not sure whether
+      Constance had not made an engagement to play lawn-tennis, so they must
+      come in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There sounded &lsquo;coo-roo-oo coo-roo-oo&rsquo; in the verandah, and Mysie cried&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, the dear doves!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them when the G.F.S. girl
+      arrived, and as Mysie came to a halt in delight at the aspect of a young
+      one that had just crept out into public life, the sister was called to the
+      window. She was a great deal younger and more of the present day in style
+      than her sister, and had pensive-looking grey eyes, with a somewhat bored
+      languid manner as she shook hands with the early visitors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sisters had a little consultation over the note, during which Dolores
+      studied them, and Mysie studied the doves, longing to see the curious
+      process of feeding the young ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Miss Hacket turned back to her with the acceptance of the invitation,
+      she thought she might wait just to help Miss Hacket to put in the corn and
+      the sop. Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you arrive yesterday?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, the day before.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! it must be a great change to you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed it is.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This must be the dullest place in England, I think,&rsquo; said Miss Constance.
+      &lsquo;No variety, no advantages of any kind! And have not you lived in London?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is my ambition! I once spent six weeks in London, and it was an
+      absolute revelation&mdash;the opening of another world. And I understand
+      that Mr. Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that you saw a great deal
+      of his friends.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I used,&rsquo; said Dolores, thinking of those days of her mother when she was
+      the pet and plaything of the guests, incited to say clever and pert
+      things, which then were passed round and embellished till she neither knew
+      them nor comprehended them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is what I pine for!&rsquo; exclaimed Miss Constance. &lsquo;Nobody here has any
+      ideas. You can&rsquo;t conceive how borne and prejudiced every one her who is
+      used to something better! Don&rsquo;t you love art needlework?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey Gander on a toilet-cover.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! how sweet! We never get any new patterns here! Do come in and see, I
+      don&rsquo;t know which to take; I brought three beginnings home to choose from,
+      and I am quite undecided.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;Something she gets
+      ideas from Lorenzo Dellman&mdash;he&rsquo;s an artist, you know, and a regular
+      aesthete! He made her do a dado all sunflowers last year, but they are a
+      little gone out now, and are very staring besides, and I think she will
+      have some nymphs dancing among almond-trees in blue vases instead, as soon
+      as she has designed it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Isn&rsquo;t that lovely! Oh! what would I not give for such opportunities? Do
+      let me have your opinion.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three patterns, one of tall
+      daisies; another of odd-looking doves, one on each side of a red Etruscan
+      vase, where the water must have been as much out of their reach as that in
+      the pitcher was beyond the crow&rsquo;s; and a third, of Little Bo Peep. Having
+      given her opinion in favour of Bo Peep, she was taken upstairs to inspect
+      the young lady&rsquo;s store of crewels, and choose the colours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores neither knew nor cared anything about fancy work, but to be
+      treated as an authority was quite soothing, and she fully believed that
+      the mere glimpses she had had of Mrs. Sefton&rsquo;s work and the shop windows,
+      enabled her to give great enlightenment to this poor country mouse; so she
+      gladly went to the bedroom, with a muslin-worked toilet-cover, embroidered
+      curtains, plates fastened against the wall, and table all over
+      knick-knacks, which Miss Constance called her little den, where she could
+      study beauty after her own bent, while her sister Mary was wholly
+      engrossed with the useful, and could endure nothing but the prose of the
+      last century.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Mysie had forgotten how time flew in her belief that in one
+      minute more the young doves would want to be fed, and then in amusement at
+      seeing them pursue their parents with low squeaks and flutterings,
+      watching, too, the airs and graces, bowing, cooing, and laughing of the
+      old ones. When at last she was startled by hearing eleven struck, there
+      had to be a great hunt for Dolores in the drawing-room and garden, and
+      when at last Miss Hacket&rsquo;s calls for her sister brought the tow downstairs
+      more than ten minutes had passed! Mysie was too much dismayed, and in too
+      great a hurry to do anything but cry, &lsquo;Come along, Dolores,&rsquo; and set off
+      at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner, even when Mysie
+      recollected that it was too public a place for running, and slackened her
+      pace. Dolores was soon gasping, and with a stitch in her side. Mysie would
+      have exclaimed, &lsquo;What were you doing with Miss Constance?&rsquo; but
+      breathlessness happily prevented it. The way across the paddock seemed
+      endless, and Mysie was chafed at having to hold back for her companion,
+      who panted in distress, leant against a tree, declared she could not go
+      on, she did not care, and then when, Mysie set off running, was seized
+      with fright at being left alone in this vast unknown space, cried after
+      her and made a rush, soon ending in sobbing breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just coming out of the
+      dining-room greeted them with, &lsquo;A quarter to twelve. Won&rsquo;t you catch it?
+      Oh my!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Are they come?&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, looking out of the schoolroom. &lsquo;My
+      dear children! Did Miss Hacket keep you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, mamma,&rsquo; gasped Mysie. &lsquo;At least it was my fault for watching the
+      doves.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message next time. Mr. Poulter has
+      been waiting these twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit to take
+      a lesson now. Dolores looks quite done up! I shall send you both to lie
+      down on your beds and learn your poetry for an hour. And you must write an
+      apology to Mr. Poulter this afternoon. No, don&rsquo;t go in now. Go up at once,
+      Gillian shall bring your books. Does Miss Hacket come?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, mamma,&rsquo; said Mysie humbly, looking at Dolores all the time. She was
+      too generous to say that part of the delay had been caused by looking for
+      her cousin, and having to adapt her pace to the slower one, but she
+      decidedly expected the avowal from Dolores, and thought it mean not to
+      make it. &lsquo;And, oh, the jam!&rsquo; she mourned as she went upstairs. While, on
+      the other hand, Dolores considered what she called &lsquo;being sent to bed&rsquo; an
+      unmerited and unjust sentence given without a hearing; when their
+      tardiness had been all Mysie&rsquo;s fault, not hers. She had no notion that her
+      aunt only sent them to lie down, because they looked heated, tired, and
+      spent, and was really letting them off their morning&rsquo;s lessons. It was a
+      pity that she felt too forlorn and sullen even to complain when Gillian
+      brought up Macaulay&rsquo;s &lsquo;Armada&rsquo; for her to learn the first twelve lines, or
+      she might have come to an understanding, but all that was elicited from
+      her was a glum &lsquo;No,&rsquo; when asked if she knew it already. Gillian told her
+      not to keep her dusty boots on the bed, and she vouchsafed no answer, for
+      she did not consider Gillian her mistress, though, after she was left to
+      herself, she found them so tight and hot that she took them off. Then she
+      looked over the verses rather contemptuously&mdash;she who always learnt
+      German poetry; and she had a great mind to assert her independence by
+      getting off the bed, and writing a letter to Maude Sefton, describing the
+      narrow stupidity of the whole family, and how her aunt, without hearing
+      her, had send her to be for Mysie&rsquo;s fault. However she felt so shaky and
+      tired that she thought she had better rest a little first, and somehow she
+      fell fast asleep, and was only awakened by the gong. She jumped up in
+      haste, recollecting that the delightful sympathizing Miss Constance was
+      coming to luncheon, and set her hair and dress to rights eagerly,
+      observing, however, to herself, that her horrid aunt was quite capable of
+      imprisoning her all the time for not having learnt that stupid poetry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She hesitated a little where to go when she reached the hall, but the
+      schoolroom door was open, and she heard a mournful voice concluding with a
+      gasp&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+        &lsquo;Our glorious semper eadem, the banner of our pride.&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      And Miss Vincent saying, &lsquo;Now, my dear, go and wash your face, and try not
+      to be such a dismal spectacle.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then Mysie came out, with heavy eyes and a mottled face, showing that
+      she had been crying all the time she had been learning, over her own fault
+      certainly, but likewise over mamma&rsquo;s displeasure and Dolly&rsquo;s shabbiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, Dora,&rsquo; said Miss Vincent, &lsquo;have you come to repeat your poetry?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;I went to sleep instead.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! I&rsquo;m glad of that. I wish poor Mysie had done the same. I believe it
+      was what Lady Merrifield intended, you both looked so knocked up.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores cleared up a little at this, especially as Miss Vincent was no
+      relation, and she thought it a good time to make her protest against mere
+      English.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;I supposed that was the reason she gave me such a stupid,
+      childish, sing-song nursery rhyme to learn. I can say lots of Schiller and
+      some Goethe.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I advise you not to let any one hear you call Lord Macaulay&rsquo;s poem a
+      nursery rhyme, or it might never be forgotten,&rsquo; said Miss Vincent gaily.
+      Then seeing the cloud return to Dolores&rsquo;s face, she added, &lsquo;You have been
+      brought forward in German, I see. We must try to bring your knowledge of
+      English literature up to be even with it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores liked this better than anything she had yet heard, chiefly because
+      she had learnt from her books that governesses were not uniformly so cruel
+      as aunts. And besides, she felt that she had been spared a public
+      humiliation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By this time the guests were ringing at the door, and Miss Vincent, with
+      her had on, only waiting till their entrance was made to depart. Dolores
+      asked whether to go into the drawing-room, and was told that Lady
+      Merrifield preferred that the children should only appear in the
+      dining-room on the sound of the gong, which was not long in being heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Merrifields were trained not to chatter when there was company at
+      table, besides Mysie and Val were in low spirits about the chance of the
+      blackberry cookery. Miss Hacket sat on one side of Lady Merrifield, and
+      talked about what associates had answered her letters, and what villages
+      would send contingents of girls, and it sounded very dull to the young
+      people. Miss Constance was next to Hal. She looked amiable and sympathetic
+      at Dolores on the opposite side of the table, but discussed lawn-tennis
+      tournaments with her neighbour, which was quite as little interesting to
+      the general public as was the G.F.S. However, as soon as Primrose had said
+      grace, Lady Merrifield proposed to take Miss Hacket down to the
+      stable-yard; and the whole train followed excepting the two girls, who
+      trusted Hal to see whether their pets would suffer inconvenience. However
+      it soon was made evident to Gillian that she was not wanted, and that
+      Dolores and Constance had no notion of wandering about the paved courts
+      and bare coach-houses, among the dogs and cats, guinea-pigs, and fowls.
+      Indeed, Constance, who was at least seven years older than Gillian, and a
+      full-blown young lady, dismissed her by saying &lsquo;that she was going to see
+      Miss Mohun&rsquo;s books.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, certainly,&rsquo; said Gillian, in a voice as though she were rather
+      surprised, though much relieved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So off the friends went together&mdash;for of course they were to be
+      friends. The Miss Mohun had been uttered in a tone that clearly meant to
+      be asked to drop it, so they were to be Dolores and Constance henceforth,
+      if not Dolly and Cons. Dolores was such a lovely name that Constance could
+      not mangle it, and was sure there was some reason for it. The girl had, in
+      fact, been named after a Spanish lady, whom her mother had known and
+      admired in early girlhood, and to whom she had made a promise of naming
+      her first daughter after her. No doubt Dolores did not know that Mrs.
+      Mohun had regretted the childish promise which she had felt bound to keep
+      in spite of her husband&rsquo;s dislike to the name, which he declared would be
+      a misfortune to the child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was really proud of its peculiarity, and delighted to have any one
+      to sympathize with her, in that and a great deal besides, which she
+      communicated to her new friend in the window-seat of her room. When the
+      two ladies went home, Constance told her sister that &lsquo;dear little Dolores
+      was a remarkable character, sadly misunderstood among those common-place
+      people, the Merrifields, and unjustly used, too, and she should do her
+      best for her!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Gillian, finding herself not wanted, had repaired to the
+      schoolroom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, it is of no use,&rsquo; sighed Mysie, disconsolately. &lsquo;I&rsquo;ve ever so much
+      morning&rsquo;s work to make up, too. And I never shall! I&rsquo;ve muzzled my head!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By which remarkable expression Mysie signified that fatigue, crying, and
+      dinner had made her brains dull and heavy; but Gillian was a sensible
+      elder sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t try your sum yet, then,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;Practise your scales for half
+      an hour, while I do my algebra, and then we&rsquo;ll go over your German verbs
+      together. I&rsquo;ll tell Miss Vincent, and she wont&rsquo; mind, and I think mamma
+      will be pleased if you try.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able to work an equation,
+      and prepare her Virgil, to the sound of scales, and Mysie was a good deal
+      restored by them and by hope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So when at length Constance had been summoned by her sister, who tore
+      herself away from the arrangements, being bound to five-o&rsquo;clock tea
+      elsewhere, Mysie was discovered with a face still rather woe-begone, but
+      hopeful and persevering, and though there still was a &lsquo;bill of parcels&rsquo; 
+      where 11 and 3/4 lbs. of mutton at 13 and 1/2d. per lb. refused to come
+      right, Lady Merrifield kissed her, said she had been a diligent child, and
+      sent her off prancing in bliss to the old &lsquo;still-room&rsquo; stove, where they
+      were allowed a fire, basins, spoons, and strainers, and where the sugar
+      lay in a snowy heap, and the blackberries in a sanguine pile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There&rsquo;s partiality!&rsquo; thought Dolores, and scowled, as she stood at the
+      front door still gazing after Constance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Won&rsquo;t you come, Dolly?&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;Or haven&rsquo;t you learnt your lessons?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Dolly, making one answer serve for both questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! then you can&rsquo;t. Shall I ask mamma to let you off?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I don&rsquo;t care. I don&rsquo;t like messes! And what&rsquo;s the use if you haven&rsquo;t
+      a cookery class?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It&rsquo;s such fun,&rsquo; said Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin and taught Gill,&rsquo; 
+      added Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But if you haven&rsquo;t done your lessons, you can&rsquo;t go,&rsquo; said Valetta
+      decidedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Off they went, and Lady Merrifield presently crossed the hall, and saw
+      Dolores&rsquo; attitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, are you waiting to say those verses?&rsquo; she said kindly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hadn&rsquo;t time to learn them, I went to sleep,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A very good thing too, my dear. Suppose we go over them together.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Lilias took the unwilling hand, led Dolores into the schoolroom, and
+      for half an hour she went over the verses with her, explaining what was
+      new to the girl, and vividly describing the agitation of Plymouth, and the
+      flocks of people thronging in. &lsquo;I must show her that I will be minded, but
+      I will make it pleasant to her, poor child,&rsquo; she thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And it could not have been otherwise than pleasant to her, but that she
+      was reflecting all this time that she was being punished while Mysie was
+      enjoying herself. Therefore she put the lid on her intellect, and was
+      inconceivably stupid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. &mdash; PERSECUTION
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On Monday afternoon Dolores was sitting at the end of the long garden
+      walk, upon a green garden-bench, with a crocodile&rsquo;s head and tail roughly
+      carved. The shouts of the others were audible in the distance beyond the
+      belt of trees. Aunt Lily had driven into the town to meet her sisters,
+      taking Fergus with her, whereas Dolores had never been out in the
+      carriage. There was partiality! Though, to be sure, Fergus was to have a
+      tooth out! Harry and Gillian were playing with the rest, and she had been
+      invited to join, but she had made answer that she hated romping, and on
+      being assured that no romping was necessary, she replied that she only
+      wanted to read in peace. She had refused the &ldquo;Thorn Fortress,&rdquo; which she
+      was told would explain the game, and had hunted out &ldquo;Clare, or No Home,&rdquo;
+       to compare her lot with that of the homeless one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Certainly, she had not yet been sent to bed with a box on the ear because
+      a countess had shown symptoms of noticing her more than her ugly,
+      over-dressed cousin. But then Aunt Lily would not allow her to walk down
+      alone to the Casement Villas to see dear Constance, and would let that
+      farmer keep all those dreadful cows in the paddock, so that even going
+      escorted was a terror to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor had her handsome mourning been taken from her and old clothes of her
+      cousin substituted for it. No, but she had been cruelly pulled about
+      between Mrs. Halfpenny and the Silverton dressmaker with a mouthful of
+      pins; and Aunt Lily had insisted on her dress being trimmed with velvet,
+      instead of the jingling jet she preferred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Did they intercept her letters? She had had one from her father, sent from
+      Falmouth, but only one from Maude Sefton in ten days! Moreover, she had
+      one from Constance in her apron pocket, arrived that very afternoon,
+      asking her to come down with Gillian on the Sundays, that the friends
+      might enjoy themselves together while the classes were going on; but she
+      made sure that all were so jealous of her friendship with Constance that
+      no consent would be given.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not hear or notice the whisperings in the laurels behind her&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you see that sulky old Croat, smoking his pipe under the tree?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, he is a Black Brunswicker.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nonsense, Willie; the Black Brunswickers weren&rsquo;t till Bonaparte&rsquo;s time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care, he is anything black and nasty; here goes!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh stop; don&rsquo;t shoot. I believe he is only a vivandiere. Besides, it&rsquo;s
+      treacherous&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I tell you he is laying a train to blow up the tower. There!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An arrow struck the bench beside Dolores, who, more angry than she had
+      ever been in her life, snatched it up, unheeding that it had no point to
+      speak of, rushed headlong in pursuit, while, with a tremendous shout,
+      Valetta and Wilfred flew before her to a waste overgrown place at the end
+      of the kitchen garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We&rsquo;ve shot a Croat!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, a Black Brunswicker.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh ah! They are coming&mdash;the enemy! Into the fortress! Bar the wolf&rsquo;s
+      passage!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as Dolores struggled through the bushes, she saw the whole family
+      dashing into an outhouse, and the door slammed. She pushed against it, but
+      an unearthly compound of howls, yells, shouts and bangs replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Gillian! Harry, I say,&rsquo; she cried in great anger; &lsquo;come out, I want to
+      speak to you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But her voice was lost in the war-whoops within, and the louder she
+      knocked, the louder grew the din, till she walked off, swelling with grief
+      and indignation. Mysie, after all her professions of friendship, to use
+      her in this way! And Harry and Gillian, who should have kept the others
+      within bounds!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly she crossed the lawn, just as Lady Merrifield, the other two aunts,
+      and Fergus, all came out from the glass door of the drawing-room. Aunt
+      Jane, a trim little dark-eyed woman, looking at two and forty much the
+      same as she might have done at five and twenty; and Aunt Adeline, pretty
+      and delicately fair, with somewhat of the same grace as Lady Merrifield,
+      but more languor, and an air as if everything about her were for effect.
+      Though not specially fond of theses aunts, Dolores was glad to have them
+      as witnesses of her ill-usage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There stands Dolly, like a statue of Diana, dart in hand,&rsquo; exclaimed Aunt
+      Adeline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Dolores; &lsquo;I wish to know, Aunt Lilias, if Wilfred and Valetta
+      are to call me names, and shoot arrows at me?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What do you mean, my dear?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They came at me while I was sitting quietly reading&mdash;there&mdash;and
+      shot at me, and called me such horrid names I can&rsquo;t repeat them, and ran
+      away. Then the others, Gillian and Harry and all, would not listen to me,
+      but shut themselves up in an out-house and shouted at me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think there must be some mistake, Dolores,&rsquo; said her aunt. &lsquo;Where are
+      they?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Out beyond there,&rsquo; said Dolores, pointing in the direction in which
+      Fergus was running.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield set off with her, and the other two ladies followed more
+      slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought it would not do,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Lily&rsquo;s children are so rough,&rsquo; added Aunt Adeline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am not so sure that the fault is theirs,&rsquo; was the reply. &lsquo;She is a
+      priggish little puss, who wants shaking up.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! here come the hordes,&rsquo; sighed Adeline, shrinking a little, as the
+      entire population, summoned by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the
+      advancing mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How is this, Wilfred? Have you been shooting arrows at your cousin?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mama!&rsquo; cried Valetta, indignantly, &lsquo;he did not shoot at her; he only
+      pretended, and shot the old crocodile-bench. He never meant any more. It
+      was only play.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the direction of any person?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nor I didn&rsquo;t!&rsquo; said Wilfred. &lsquo;I only shot the crocodile. I never tried to
+      hit her. She is quite big enough to miss.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma,&rsquo; added Valetta. &lsquo;We were
+      scouts out of the Thorn Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly
+      dodge to steal upon one of the enemy.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You should have warned her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then it would not have been a surprise,&rsquo; said Val, seriously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Was she not at play with you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, mamma,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;We asked her, and she would not. I say,&rsquo; pausing
+      in consternation, &lsquo;Dolores, was it you that came and called at the door of
+      the Wolf&rsquo;s passage?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course. I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred behaved to me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thought it was Fergus come home to be the enemy.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Didn&rsquo;t you know her voice?&rsquo; asked the mother
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We were all making such a noise ourselves in the dark,&rsquo; said Gillian,
+      &lsquo;that there was no hearing any one; and Primrose was rather frightened, so
+      that Hal was attending to her. Indeed, Dolores, I am very sorry. If we had
+      guessed that it was you, we would have opened the door at once, and then
+      you would have known that it was all fun and play, and not have troubled
+      mamma about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Wilfred and Valetta knew,&rsquo; said Dolores, rather sullenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but it was such fun,&rsquo; said Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was fun that became unkindness on your part,&rsquo; said her mother. &lsquo;You
+      ought not to have kept it up without warning to her. And what do I hear
+      about names? I hope that was also misunderstanding of the game. What did
+      you call her?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only a Croat,&rsquo; said Valetta, indignantly, &lsquo;and a Black Brunswicker.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Was that it, Dolores?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps,&rsquo; she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh from her Aunt Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I do not know what you took them for,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;but you see
+      some part of this trouble arose from a mistake on you part. Now, Wilfred
+      and Valetta, remember that is not right to force a person into play
+      against her will. And as to the shooting near, but not at her, you both
+      know perfectly well that it is forbidden. So give me your bow, Wilfred. I
+      shall keep it for a week, that you may remember obedience.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed. Dolores could not call her aunt unjust,
+      but as she look round, she met glances that made her think it prudent to
+      shelter herself among the elders. Aunt Jane asked what the game was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The Thorn Fortress,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;It comes out of that delightful
+      S.P.C.K. book so called, where, in the &lsquo;Thirty Years&rsquo; War,&rsquo; all the people
+      of a village took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the middle of a
+      forest guarded by a tremendous hedge of thorns. Val had it for a birthday
+      present, and the children have been acting it ever since.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, which used to be a
+      regular stage in these children&rsquo;s lives. Every voyage we have taken,
+      somebody has come to ask whether there was any hope of being wrecked on
+      one.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition,&rsquo; observed Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five o&rsquo;clock tea in the
+      drawing-room, the juniors to gouter in the dining-room. As Dolores
+      entered, she beheld a row of all her five younger cousins drawn up looking
+      at her as if she had committed high treason, and she was instantly
+      addressed&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Tell-take tit!&rsquo; began Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Sneak!&rsquo; cried Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I will call her Croat!&rsquo; added Fergus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Worse than Croat! Bashi Bazouk!&rsquo; exclaimed Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Worse than Crow!&rsquo; chimed in Primrose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Dolores! How could you?&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To get poor Willie punished!&rsquo; said Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores stood her ground. &lsquo;It was time to speak when it came to shooting
+      arrows at me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hush! hush! Willie,&rsquo; cried Mysie. &lsquo;I told you so. Now Dolores, listen.
+      Nobody ever tells of anybody when it is only being tiresome and they don&rsquo;t
+      mean it, or there never would be any peace at all. That&rsquo;s honour! Do you
+      see? One may go to Gill sometimes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One&rsquo;s a sneak if one does,&rsquo; put in Wilfred; but Mysie, unheeding went on&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And Gill can help without a fuss or going to mamma.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma always knows,&rsquo; said Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma knows all about everything,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;I think it&rsquo;s nature; ad
+      if she does not always take notice at the time, she will have it out
+      sooner or later.&rsquo; Then resuming the thread of her discourse: &lsquo;So you see,
+      Dolly, we have made up our minds that we will forgive you this time,
+      because you are an only child and don&rsquo;t know what&rsquo;s what, and that&rsquo;s some
+      excuse. Only you mustn&rsquo;t go on telling tales whenever an evident happens.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, but the force against her
+      was overpowering, though still she hesitated. &lsquo;But if I promise not to
+      tell,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;how do I know what may be done to me?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You might trust us,&rsquo; cried Mysie, with flashing eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I can tell you,&rsquo; added Wilfred, &lsquo;that if you do tell, it will be ever
+      so much the worse for you&mdash;girl that you are.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;War to the knife! Cried Valetta, and everybody except Mysie joined in the
+      outcry. &lsquo;War to the knife with traitors in the camp.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again acted orator. &lsquo;You see,
+      Dolores, if you did tell, it would not be possible for mamma or Gill to be
+      always looking after you, and I couldn&rsquo;t do you much good&mdash;and if all
+      these three are set against you, and are horrid to you, and I couldn&rsquo;t do
+      you much good&mdash;horrid to you, you&rsquo;ll have no peace in your life; and,
+      after all, we only ask of you to give and take in a good-natured sort of
+      way, and not to be always making a fuss about everything you don&rsquo;t like.
+      It is the only way, I assure you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very well.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You promise?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then we forgive you, and here&rsquo;s the box of chocolate things Aunt Ada
+      brought. We&rsquo;ll have a cigar all round and be friends. Smoke the pipe of
+      peace.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would have been to have replied,
+      &lsquo;Dolores Mohun will never be intimidated;&rsquo; but the fact was that her
+      spirit did quail at the thought of the tortures which the two boys might
+      inflict on her if Mysie abandoned her to their mercy, and she was
+      relieved, as well as surprised to find that her offence was condoned, and
+      she was treated as if nothing had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing-room, &lsquo;How do you get on?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Fairly well,&rsquo; was Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s answer. &lsquo;We shall work together in
+      time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What does Gill say?&rsquo; asked the aunt, rather mischievously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the young lady, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think we get on at all, not even
+      poor Mysie, who works steadily on at her, gets snubbed a dozen times a
+      day, and never seems to feel it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I hoped her father would have sent her to school,&rsquo; said Aunt Adeline. &lsquo;I
+      knew she would be troublesome. She has all her mother&rsquo;s pride.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The proudest people are those who have least to be proud of,&rsquo; said Aunt
+      Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;School would have hardened the crust and kept up the alienation,&rsquo; said
+      Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps not. It might teach her to value the holidays, and learn that
+      blood is thicker than water,&rsquo; said Miss Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is always in reserve,&rsquo; added Miss Adeline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Maurice told her to send her if I grew tired of her, as he said,&rsquo; 
+      replied Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;but of course I should not think of that unless
+      for very strong reasons.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, mamma!&rsquo; and Gillian remained with her mouth open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well?&rsquo; said Aunt Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I meant to have told you mamma, but Mr. Leadbitter came in about the
+      G.F.S. and stopped me, and I have never seen you to speak to since.
+      Yesterday you know, I stayed from evensong to look after the little ones,
+      and you said Dolores might do as she pleased, so she stayed at home. The
+      children were looking at the book of Bible Pictures, and it came out that
+      Dolly knew nothing at all about Joshua and the walls of Jericho, nor
+      Gideon and the lamps in the pitchers, nor anything else. Then, when I was
+      surprised, she said that it was not the present system to perplex children
+      with the myths of ancient Jewish history.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian was speaking rapidly, in the growing consciousness that her mother
+      had rather have had this communication reserved for her private ear&mdash;and
+      her answer was, &lsquo;Poor child!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just what I should expect!&rsquo; said Aunt Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Probably it was jargon half understood, and repeated in defence of her
+      ignorance,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;She is an odd mixture of defiant
+      loyalty and self-defence.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What shall you do about this kind of talk?&rsquo; asked her sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One must hear it sooner or later,&rsquo; said Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is true,&rsquo; returned his mother, &lsquo;but I suppose Fergus and Primrose
+      did not hear or understand.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no, mamma. I know they did not, for they were squabbling because
+      Primrose wanted to turn over before Fergus had done with Gideon.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then I don&rsquo;t think there is any harm done. If it comes before Mysie or
+      Val I will talk to them, and I mean to take this poor child alone for a
+      little while each day in the week and try to get at her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There&rsquo;s another thing,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;Is she to go down with me always
+      to Casement Cottages on Sunday afternoons when I take the class?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To teach or to learn?&rsquo; ironically exclaimed Aunt Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Neither,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;To chatter to Constance Hacket. They both spoke
+      to me about it yesterday before I went home, and I believe Constance has
+      written a note to her to ask her today! Fancy, that goose told me my sweet
+      cousin was a dear, and that we didn&rsquo;t appreciate her. Even Miss Hacket
+      gave me quite a lecture on kindness and consideration to an orphan
+      stranger.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not uncalled for, perhaps,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane. &lsquo;I hope you received it in an
+      edifying manner.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now, Aunt Jane! Well, I believe I said we were as kind as she would let
+      us be, especially Mysie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield here made the move to conduct her sisters to their rooms;
+      Miss Mohun detained her when they had reached hers, and had left Adeline
+      to rest on her sofa. The two, though very unlike, had still the habits of
+      absolute confidential intimacy belonging to sisters next in age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Lily,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun, &lsquo;Gillian spoke of a note. Did Maurice give you
+      any directions about this child&rsquo;s correspondence?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You know I did not see him. I was so much disappointed. I would give
+      anything to have talked her over with him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am not sure that you would have gained much. I doubt whether he knows
+      much about her, poor fellow. But the letters?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He wrote that she had been a good deal with Professor Sefton&rsquo;s family,
+      and he thought they might like to keep up their intercourse.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nothing about Flinders? He ought to have warned you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No. Who is he?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A half-brother&mdash;no, a step-brother to poor Mary. He was the son by a
+      former marriage of her father&rsquo;s first wife, and has been always a thorn in
+      their sides. He is a low, dissipated kind of creature; writes theatrical
+      criticisms for third-rate papers, or something of that kind, when he is at
+      his best. I believe Mary was really fond of him, and helped him more than
+      Maurice could well bear, and since her death the man has perfectly
+      pestered him with appeals to her memory. I really believe one reason he
+      welcomed this post was to get out of his reach.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You always know everything Jenny. Now how did you know this?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I called once in the midst of an interview between him and Mary. And
+      afterwards I came on poor Maurice when he was really very much provoked,
+      and had it all out; ad since her death&mdash;well, I saw him get a begging
+      letter from the man, and he spoke of it again. I wish I had advised him to
+      warn you against the wretch.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose he knows where the child is. He is no relation to her,
+      you say?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;None at all, happily. But on that occasion, when I was an uncomfortable
+      third, Maurice was very angry that she should have been allowed to call
+      him Uncle Alfred; and Mary screwed up her little mouth, and evidently
+      rather liked the aggravation to Mohun pride.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poor Maurice, so he had a skeleton! Well, I don&rsquo;t see how it can hurt us.
+      The man probably knows nothing about us, and even if he could trace the
+      girl, he must know that she can do nothing for him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You had better keep an eye on her letters. He is quite capable of asking
+      for the poor child&rsquo;s half sovereigns. I wish Maurice had given you
+      authority.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps he spoke to her about it. At any rate, what he said of the
+      Seftons is quite sufficient to imply that there is no sanction to any
+      other correspondence.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is true. Really, Lily, I believe you are the most likely person to
+      do some good with her, though I don&rsquo;t think you know what you are in for.
+      But Gillian does!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I believe it is very good for the children to have to exercise a little
+      forbearance. In spite of all our knocking about the world, our family
+      exclusiveness is pretty much what ours was in the old Beechcroft days&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When Rotherwood and Robert Mohun were out only outsiders and the Westons
+      came on us like new revelations!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is curious to look back on,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;It seems to me
+      that the system, or no system, on which we were brought up was rather
+      passing away even then.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Specks we growed,&rsquo; said Jane. &lsquo;What do you call the system?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just that people thought it their own business to bring up their children
+      themselves, and let the actual technical teaching depend upon
+      opportunities, whereas now they get them taught, but let the bringing up
+      take it chance.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;People lived with their children then&mdash;yes, I see what you mean,
+      Lily. Poor Eleanor, intending with all her might to be a mother to us,
+      brought us up, as you call it, with all her powers; but public opinion
+      would never have suffered us to get merely the odd sort of teaching that
+      she could give us. It was regular, or course; but oh! do you remember the
+      old atlas, with Germany divided into circles, and everything as it was
+      before the Congress of Vienna?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You liked geography; I hated it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, I was young enough to come in for the elder boys&rsquo; old school
+      atlases, which had some sense in them. It seems to me that we had more the
+      spirit of working for ourselves according to our individual tastes than
+      people have now. We learnt, they are taught.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well! and what did we learn?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;As much as we could carry,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane, laughing. &lsquo;Assimilate, if you
+      like it better; and I doubt if people will turn out to have done more now.
+      What becomes of all the German that is crammed down girl&rsquo;s throats,
+      whether they have a turn for languages or not? Do they ever read a German
+      book? Now you learnt it for love of Fouque and Max Piccolomini, and you
+      have kept it up ever since.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, by cramming it down my children&rsquo;s throats. But what I complain of,
+      Jane, in the young folk that come across me is not over-knowledge, but
+      want of knowledge&mdash;want of general culture. This Dolores, for
+      instance, can do what she has been taught better than Mysie, some tings
+      better than Gillian, but she has absolutely no interest in general
+      knowledge, not even in the glaciers which she has seen; she does not know
+      whether Homer wrote in Greek or Latin, considers &ldquo;Marmion&rdquo; a lesson,
+      cannot tell a planet from a star, and neither knows nor cares anything
+      about the two Napoleons. Now we seem to have breathed in such things. Why!
+      I remember being made into Astyanax for a very unwilling Andromache (poor
+      Eleanor) for caress, and being told to shudder at the bright copper
+      coal-scuttle, before Harry went to school.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course poor Maurice could not cultivate his child. Yet, after all, we
+      grew up without a mother; but then the dear old Baron lived among us, and
+      knew what we were doing, instead of shutting us up in a schoolroom with
+      some one, with only knowledge, not culture. Those very late dinners have
+      quite upset all the intelligent intercourse between fathers and children
+      not come out.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Jasper and I have felt that difficulty. But after all, Jenny, when I
+      look back, I cannot say I think ours was a model bringing up. What a
+      strange year that was after Eleanor&rsquo;s marriage!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! you felt responsible and were too young for it, but to me it was a
+      very jolly time, though I suppose I was an ingredient in your troubles.
+      Yes, we brought ourselves up; but I maintain that it was better
+      alternative than being drilled so hard as never to think of anything but
+      arrant idling out of lesson-time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Lessons should be lessons, and play, play, is one of the professor&rsquo;s
+      maxims to which that poor child has treated us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! on that system, where would have been all your grand heraldic
+      pedigrees? I&rsquo;ve got them still.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! Jenny, you good old Brownie, have you? How I should like to look at
+      them again and show them the Gillian and Mysie. Do you remember the little
+      scalloped line we drew round all the true knights?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ay! and where would have been all your romancing about Sir Maurice de
+      Mohun, the pride of his name? For my part, I much prefer a cavalier dead
+      two hundred years ago as the object of a girl&rsquo;s enthusiasm&mdash;if
+      enthusiasm she must have&mdash;to the existing lieutenant, or even
+      curate.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Certainly; I should be sorry to have been bred up to history with
+      individual interest and romance squeezed out of it. You see when Jasper
+      came home from the Crimea he exactly continued mine.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You have fulfilled your ideal better than falls to the lot of most
+      people, even to the item of knighthood.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! you should have heard us grumble over the expense of it. And, after
+      all, I dare say Sir Maurice found his knight&rsquo;s fee quite as inconvenient!
+      Oh!&rsquo; with a start, &lsquo;there&rsquo;s the first bell, and here have I been dawdling
+      here instead of minding my business! But it is so nice to have you! I day,
+      Jenny, we will have one of our good old games at threadpaper verses and
+      all the rest tonight. I want you to show the children how we used to play
+      at them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the party played at paper games for nearly two hours that evening, to
+      the extreme delight of Gillian, Mysie, and Harry, to say nothing of their
+      mother and aunts, who played with all their might, even Aunt Adeline
+      lighting up into droll, quiet humour. Only Dolores was first bewildered,
+      then believed herself affronted, and soon gave up altogether, wondering
+      that grown-up people could be so foolish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. &mdash; G.F.S.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The first thought of Dolores was that she should see Constance Hacket,
+      when she heard &lsquo;Hurrah for a holiday!&rsquo; resounding over the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she came out of her room Mysie met her. &lsquo;Hurrah! Aunt Jane has got us a
+      holiday that we may help get ready for the G.F.S.! Mamma has sent down
+      notes to Miss Vincent and Mr. Pollock. Oh! jolly, jolly!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And, obvious of past offences, Mysie caught her cousin&rsquo;s arms, and whirled
+      her round and round in an exulting dance, extremely unpleasant to so quiet
+      a personage. &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t!&rsquo; she cried. &lsquo;You hurt! You make me dizzy!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My certie, Miss Mysie!&rsquo; exclaimed Mrs. Halfpenny at the same time, &lsquo;ye&rsquo;re
+      daft! Gae doon canny, and keep your apron on, for if I see a stain on that
+      clean dress&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie hopped downstairs without waiting to hear the terrible
+      consequences.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Adeline did not come down to breakfast, but Aunt Jane appeared, fresh
+      and glowing, just in time for prayers, having been with Gillian and Harry
+      to survey the scene of operations, and to judge of the day, which
+      threatened showers, the grass being dank and sparkling with something more
+      than September dews.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The tables must be in the coach-house,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;Happily,
+      our equipages are not on a large scale, and we must not get the poor
+      girls&rsquo; best things drenched.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; and it is rather disheartening to have to address double ranks of
+      umbrellas,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane. &lsquo;Is the post come?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is always infamously late here,&rsquo; said Harry. &lsquo;We complained, as the
+      appointed hour is eight, but we were told &lsquo;all the other ladies were
+      satisfied.&rsquo; I do believe they think no one not in business has a right to
+      wish for letters before nine.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Here it comes, though,&rsquo; said Gillian; and in due time the locked
+      letter-bag was delivered to Lady Merrifield, and Primrose waited eagerly
+      to act as postman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not the day for the Indian mail, but Aunt Jane expected some last
+      directions, and Lady Merrifield the final intelligence as to the numbers
+      of each contingent of girls. Dolores was on the qui vive for a letter from
+      Maude Sefton, and devoured her aunt and the bag with her eyes. She was
+      quite sure that among the bundle of post-cards that were taken out there
+      was a letter. Also she saw her aunt give a little start, and put it aside,
+      and when she demanded. &lsquo;Is there no letter for me?&rsquo; Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s
+      answer was,&rsquo; None, my dear, from Miss Sefton.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hot indignation glowed in Dolores&rsquo;s cheeks and eyes, more especially as
+      she perceived a look pass between the two aunts. She sat swelling while
+      talk about the chances of rain was passing round her, the forecasts in the
+      paper, the cats washing their faces, the swallows flying low, the upshot
+      being that it might be fine, but that emergencies were to be prepared for.
+      All the time that Lady Merrifield was giving orders to children and
+      servants for the preparations, Dolores kept her station, and the instant
+      there was a vacant moment, she said fiercely&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aunt Lilias, I know there is a letter for me. Let me have it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Your father told me you might have letter from Miss Sefton, and there is
+      none from her,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, with a somewhat perplexed air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I may have letters from whom I choose.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, that is not the custom in general with girls of your age, and I
+      know your father would not wish it. Tell me, is there any one you have
+      reason to expect to hear from?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores had an instinct that all the Mohuns were set against the person
+      she was thinking of, but she had an answer ready, true, but which would
+      serve her purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There was a person, Herr Muhlwausser, that father ordered some scientific
+      plates from&mdash;of microscopic zoophytes. He said he did not know
+      whether anything would come of it, but, in case it should, he gave my
+      address, and left me a cheque to pay him with. I have it in my desk
+      upstairs.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very well, my dear,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;you shall have the letter
+      when it comes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The men are come, my lady, to put up the tables. Miss Mohun says will you
+      come down?&rsquo; came the information at that moment, sweeping away Aunt Lilias
+      and everybody else into the whirl of preparation; while Dolores remained,
+      feeling absolutely certain that a letter was being withheld from her, and
+      she stood on the garden steps burning with hot indignation, when Mysie,
+      armed with the key of the linen-press, flashed past her breathlessly,
+      exclaiming&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aren&rsquo;t you coming down, Dolly? &lsquo;Tis such fun! I&rsquo;m come for some
+      table-cloths.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This didn&rsquo;t stir Dolores, but presently Mysie returned again, followed by
+      Mrs. Halfpenny, grumbling that &lsquo;A&rsquo; the bonnie napery that she had packed
+      and carried sae mony miles by sea and land should be waured on a wheen
+      silly feckless taupies that &lsquo;tis the leddies&rsquo; wull to cocker up till not a
+      lass of &lsquo;em will do a stroke of wark, nor gie a ceevil answer to her
+      elders.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie, with a bundle of damask cloths under her arm, paused to repeat,
+      &lsquo;Are you not coming Dolly? Your dear Miss Constance is there looking for
+      you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This did move Dolores, and she followed to the coach-house, where
+      everybody was buzzing about like bees, the tables and forms being
+      arranged, and upon them dishes with piles of fruit and cakes,
+      contributions from other associates. All the vases, great and small, were
+      brought out, and raids were made on the flower garden to fill them. Little
+      scarlet flags, with the name of each parish in white, were placed to
+      direct the parties of guests to their places, and Harry, Macrae, and the
+      little groom were adorning the beams with festoons. The men from the
+      coffee-tavern supplied the essentials, but the ladies undertook the
+      decoration, and Aunt Adeline, in a basket-chair, with her feet on a box,
+      directed the ornamentation with great taste and ability. Constance Hacket
+      had been told off to make up a little bouquet to lay beside each plate,
+      and Dolores volunteered to help her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, dearest, will you come to me on Sunday?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know. I have not been able to ask Aunt Lilias yet, and Gillian
+      was very cross about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What did she say?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She said she did not think Aunt Lilias approved of visiting and gossiping
+      on Sunday.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! now. What does Gillian do herself?&rsquo; said Constance in a hurt voice.
+      &lsquo;She does come and teach, certainly, but she stays ever so long talking
+      after the class is over. Why should we gossip more than she does?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes; but people&rsquo;s own children can do no wrong.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There Constance became inattentive. Mr. Poulter had come up, and wanted to
+      be useful, so she jumped up with a handful of nosegays to instruct him in
+      laying them by each plate, leaving Dolores to herself, which she found
+      dull. The other two, however, came back again, and the work continued, but
+      the talk was entirely between the gentleman and lady, chiefly about music
+      for the choral society, and the voices of the singers, about which Dolores
+      neither knew nor cared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By one o&rsquo;clock the long tables were a pretty sight, covered with piles of
+      fruit and cakes, vases of flowers and little flags, establishments of
+      teacups at intervals, and a bouquet and pretty card at every one of the
+      plates.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came early dinner at the house, and such rest as could be had after
+      it, till the pony-chaise, waggonette, and Mrs. Blackburne&rsquo;s carriage came
+      to the door to convey to church all whom they could carry, the rest
+      walking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The church was a sea of neat round hats, mostly black, with a considerable
+      proportion of feathers, tufts, and flowers. On their dark dresses were
+      pinned rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to which parish they
+      belonged. There was a bright, short service, in which the clear, high
+      voices of the multitudinous maidens quite overcame those of the choir
+      boys, and then an address, respecting which Constance pronounced that
+      &lsquo;Canon Fremont was always so sweet,&rsquo; and Dolores assented, without in the
+      least knowing what it had been about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept guard, in the walk from
+      church, over the white-rosed Silverton detachment; but another shower was
+      impending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must not get wet, rushed
+      up and packed her into the waggonette, where Dolores was climbing after,
+      when at a touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield looked round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dolores,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;you forget that Miss Hacket walked to church.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black as thunder, and Miss
+      Hacket protested that she was not tired, and could not leave her girls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never mind the girls, I will look after them; I meant to walk. Don&rsquo;t
+      stand on the step. Come down,&rsquo; she added sharply, but not in time, for the
+      horses gave a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, down tumbled
+      Dolores, or would have tumbled, but that she was caught between her aunt
+      and Miss Hacket, who with one voice admonished her never to do that again,
+      for there was nothing more dangerous. Indeed, there was more anger in Lady
+      Merrifield&rsquo;s tone than her niece had yet heard, and as there was no making
+      out that there was the least injury to the girl, she was forced to walk
+      home, in spite of all Miss Hacket&rsquo;s protestations and refusals, which had
+      nearly ended in her exposing herself to the same peril as Dolores, only
+      that Lady Merrifield fairly pushed her in and shut the door on her.
+      Nothing would have compensated to Dolores but that her Constance should
+      have jumped out to accompany her and bewail her aunt&rsquo;s cruelty, but
+      devotion did not reach to such an extent. Her aunt, however, said in a
+      tone that might be either apology or reproof&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I could not let poor Miss Hacket walk after all she has done and
+      with all she has to do today.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores vouchsafed no answer, but Aunt Jane said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;All which applies doubly to you, Lily.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not a bit; I am not run about like all of you,&rsquo; she answered, brightly.
+      &lsquo;Besides, it is such fun! I feel like Whit Monday at Beechcroft! Don&rsquo;t you
+      remember the pink and blue glazed calico banners crowned with summer
+      snowballs? And the big drum? What a nice-looking set of girls! How
+      pleasant to see rosy, English faces tidily got up! They were rosy enough
+      in Ireland, but a great deal too picturesque. Now these are a sort of
+      flower of maidenhood&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are getting quite poetical, Lily.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It&rsquo;s the effect of walking in procession&mdash;there&rsquo;s something quite
+      exhilarating in it; ay, and of having a bit of old Beechcroft about me. Do
+      tell me who that lady is; I ought to know her, I&rsquo;m sure! Oh, Miss Smith,
+      good morning. How many girls have you brought? Oh! the crimson rosettes,
+      are they? York and Lancaster?&mdash;indeed. I&rsquo;m glad we have some shelter
+      for them; I&rsquo;m afraid there is another shower. Have you no umbrella, my
+      dear? Come under mine.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a fierce scud of hail, hitting rather than wetting, but Dolores had
+      the satisfaction of declaring the edges of her dress to be damp and going
+      off to change it, though Aunt Jane pinched the kilting and said the damp
+      was imperceptible, and Wilfred muttered, &lsquo;Made of sugar, only not so
+      sweet.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In fact, she hoped that Constance, who had told of her hatred to these
+      great functions and willingness to do anything to avoid them, would avail
+      herself of the excuse; but though the young lady must have seen her go,
+      she never attempted to follow; and Dolores, feeling her own room dull,
+      came down again to find the drawing-room empty, and on the next gleam of
+      sunshine, she decided on going to seek her friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What a hum and buzz pervaded the stable-yard! There was a coach-house with
+      all its great doors open, and the rows of girls awakening from their first
+      shy and hungry silence into laughter and talking. There were big urns and
+      fountains steaming, active hands filling cups, all the cousins, all their
+      congeners, and four or five clergymen acting as waiters, Aunt Adeline
+      pouring out tea a the upper table for any associate who had time to
+      swallow it, and Constance Hacket talking away to a sandy-haired curate,
+      without so much as seeing her friend! Only Wilfred, at sight of his cousin
+      again, getting up a violent mock cough, declaring that he thought she had
+      gone to bed with congealed lungs or else Brown Titus, as the old women
+      called it. His mother, however, heard the cough&mdash;which, indeed, was
+      too remarkable a sound not to attract any one&mdash;and with a short,
+      sharp word to him to take care, she put Dolores down under Aunt Ada&rsquo;s
+      wing, and provided her with a lovely peach and a delicious Bath bun.
+      Constance just looked up and nodded, saying, &lsquo;You dear little thing, I
+      couldn&rsquo;t think what was become of you,&rsquo; and then went on with her sandy
+      curate, about&mdash;what was it?&mdash;Dolores know not, only that it
+      seemed very interesting, and she was left out of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down came the rain, a hopeless downpour, and there was a consultation
+      among the elders, some laughing, some doubtful looks, and at last Harry,
+      with Macrae and one of the curates, disappeared. Then grace was sung, and
+      speeches followed&mdash;one by the rector, Mr. Leadbitter, fatherly and
+      prosy;&mdash;a paper read by the Branch Secretary, about affairs in
+      general; and a very amusing speech by Miss Mohun, full of anecdotes of
+      example and warning. &lsquo;You know,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;all the school story-books end&mdash;when
+      the grown up books marry their people&mdash;with the good girl going out
+      to service under her young lady, and there she lives happy ever after! But
+      some of us know better! We don&rsquo;t know how far the marrying ones always do
+      live very happy ever after&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For shame, Jenny!&rsquo; muttered Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But,&rsquo; went on Miss Mohun, &lsquo;even you that have been lucky enough to get
+      under your own young ladies know that life here is all new beginnings at
+      the bottom, just as when you were very proud of yourselves for getting out
+      of the infant school, you found it was only being at the bottom of the
+      upper one; and I can tell the twelve-year-olds&mdash;I see some of them&mdash;that
+      it is often a finer thing to be at the head of the school than the last in
+      the house. Ay, you&rsquo;ve got to work up there again, and it is a long
+      business and a steady business, but it is to be done. I knew a girl,
+      thirty-five years ago, that my sister-in-law took from school, and she was
+      not a genius either, and I am quite sure she could not do rule-of-three,
+      nor tell what is the capital of Dahomey, as I dare say every one here can
+      do, but I&rsquo;ll tell you what she did, and that was, her best, and there she
+      has been ever since; and the last time I saw her was sitting up in her
+      housekeeper&rsquo;s room, in her silk gown, with her master&rsquo;s grandchildren
+      hanging about her, respected and loved by us all. And I knew another, a
+      much clever girl at school, with prettier ways to begin with, but&mdash;I&rsquo;m
+      sorry to say, her finger were too clever, and it was not very happy ever
+      after, though she did right herself.&rsquo; And then Aunt Jane went on to the
+      difficulties of having to deal with such quantities of pots and pans, and
+      knives and forks, and cloths and brushes, each with a use of its very own,
+      just as if she had been a scullery-maid herself; telling how sense and
+      memory must be brought to bear on these things just as much as in
+      analyzing a sentence, and how even those would not do without the higher
+      motive of faithfulness to Him whose servants we all are. Her finish was a
+      picture of the roving servant girl, always saying, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t like it,&rsquo; and
+      always seeking novelty, illustrated by her experience of a little maid who
+      left one place because she could not sleep alone, and another because the
+      little girl slept with her, a third because it was so lonesome, and a
+      fourth because it was so noisy, and quitted her fifth within a half year
+      because she could not eat twice cooked meat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jane varied her voice in the most comical way, and the girls, as well
+      as all her audience, laughed heartily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Bravo, Jenny!&rsquo; said a voice close to her, and a gentleman with a rather
+      bald head, a fluffy, light beard touched with white, dancing eyes, and a
+      slim, youthful figure, was seen standing in the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield and her sisters cried with one glad voice, &lsquo;Oh!
+      Rotherwood!&rsquo; holding out their hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes. I found I&rsquo;d a few hours between the trains, so I ran down to look
+      you up. I met Harry at the house, and he told me I should find Jane
+      qualifying for the female parliament.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It&rsquo;s such a pity you should fall on all this turmoil,&rsquo; said Aunt Ada.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Pity! I wouldn&rsquo;t have missed Jenny&rsquo;s wisdom for the world. What is it,
+      Lily? Temperance, or have you set up a Salvation Army?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;G.F.S., of course, you Rotherwood of old! And now you are come, you shall
+      save me from what has been my bugbear for the last week. You shall give
+      the premiums.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Come, it&rsquo;s no use making faces and pretending you know nothing about it,&rsquo; 
+      added Miss Mohun. &lsquo;I know very well that Florence is deep in it!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ay, they&rsquo;ll have you over to repeat that splendid harangue about pots and
+      pans!&rsquo; said he, bowing at Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s introductions of him to the
+      bystanders, and obediently accepting the sheaf of envelopes, while Mr.
+      Leadbitter made it known that the premiums would be given by the Marquess
+      of Rotherwood. Certainly it was a much more lively business than if Lady
+      Merrifield had performed it, for he had something droll to observe to each
+      girl. One he pretended to envy, telling her he had worked hard for may a
+      year, and never got such a card as that for it&mdash;far less five
+      shillings. Another he was sure kept her pans bright, and always knew which
+      was which; a very little one was asked if she had gone from her cradle,
+      and so on, always sending them away with a broad smile, and professing
+      great respect for the three seven-year-card maidens who came up last. Then
+      in a concluding speech he demanded&mdash;where were the premiums for the
+      mistresses, who, he was quite sure, deserved them quite as much or more
+      than the maids!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While everybody was still laughing, Lady Merrifield asked Mr. Leadbitter
+      to explain that as it was still raining hard, she must ask all to adjourn
+      to the great loft over the stable, where they could enjoy themselves. Each
+      associate was to gather her own flock and bring them in order. Lady
+      Merrifield said she would lead the way, Lord Rotherwood coming with her,
+      picking up little Primrose in his arms to carry her upstairs to the loft.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every one was moving. Dolores was among a crowd of strangers. She heard
+      them saying how delightful Lord Rotherwood was, and charming and handsome
+      and graceful Lady Merrifield, with her beautiful eyes. It worried Dolores,
+      who thought it rather foolish to be pretty, except in the case of
+      persecuted orphan, and, moreover, admiration of her aunt always seemed to
+      her disparagement of her mother. And where was Constance?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She followed the stream, and, climbing some stairs, came out into a large,
+      long, empty hay-loft, over what had once been hunting stables&mdash;the
+      children&rsquo;s wet-day play-place. The deputation dispatched to the house had
+      managed to get up there the schoolroom piano, and one of the curates sat
+      down to it, and began playing dance music, while Miss Mohun, Miss Hacket,
+      and the other ladies began arranging couples for a country dance&mdash;all
+      girls, of course, except that Lord Rotherwood danced with the tiny premium
+      girl, and Harry with Primrose. Wilfred and Fergus could not be incited to
+      make the attempt; Mysie offered herself to Dolores, but in vain. &lsquo;I hate
+      dancing,&rsquo; was all the answer she got, and she went off to persuade Lois,
+      the nursery girl. Constance Hacket arranged herself on a chair, and looked
+      out from between two curates; there was no getting at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there came a pause; Lord Rotherwood spoke to Gillian, and must have
+      asked her to point Dolores out, for presently he made his way to the
+      little dark figure in the window, and, kindly laying his hand on her
+      shoulder, asked whether she had heard from her father yet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I suppose you can&rsquo;t,&rsquo; he added. &lsquo;It is a great break-up for you; but
+      you are a lucky girl to be taken in here! It reminds me of what Beechcroft
+      used to be to me when I was a stray fish, though not quite so lonely as
+      you are. Make the most of it, for there aren&rsquo;t many in these days like
+      Aunt Lily there!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He little knows,&rsquo; thought Dolores, as a waltz began to be played.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They want an example,&rsquo; he said. &lsquo;Come along. You know how, I&rsquo;m sure&mdash;a
+      Londoner like you!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pairs were whirling about the floor in full career in a short time, to the
+      astonishment of other maidens who had never seen dancing in their lives.
+      Dolores, afraid to refuse, and certainly flattered, really was wonderfully
+      exhilarated and brightened by her career wither good-natured cousin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I do believe Cousin Rotherwood has shaken her out of the dumps,&rsquo; observed
+      Gillian to Aunt Jane, who returned&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He can do it if any one can.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The funny thing was the effect upon Constance, who, in the next pause,
+      shook off her curates, advanced to Dolores, who was recovering her breath
+      under the window, called her a dear thing whom she had not been able to
+      get to all this time, sat rather forward with an arm round her waist for
+      the next half-hour, and, when Sir Roger de Coverley was getting up,
+      proposed that they should be partners, but not till she had seen Lord
+      Rotherwood pair himself off with Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I must,&rsquo; said he to Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;it&rsquo;s so like dancing with honest
+      Phyl.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The greatest compliment you could have, Mysie,&rsquo; said her mother, looking
+      very much pleased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The last yellow patches of evening sunshine on the sloping roof faded;
+      watches were looked at, the music turned to the National Anthem, everybody
+      stood up, or stood still, and sung it. Then at the close, Mr. Leadbitter
+      stood by the piano and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One word more, my young friends. Some of you may have been surprised at
+      this evening&rsquo;s amusement, but we want you to understand that there is no
+      harm in dancing itself, provided that the place, the manner, and the
+      companions are fit. I hope that you will all prove the truth of my words,
+      by not taking this pleasant evening as an excuse for running into places
+      of temptation. Now, good night, with many thanks to Lady Merrifield for
+      the happy day she has given us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A voice added, &lsquo;Three cheers for Lady Merrifield!&rsquo; and the G.F.S. showed
+      itself by no means backward in the matter of cheering. There was a hunting
+      up of ulsters and umbrellas; one associate after another got her flock
+      together, and clattered downstairs, either to get into vans, to walk to
+      the station, or to disperse to their homes in the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Lord Rotherwood had time to explain that he was on his way to
+      fetch his wife home from some German baths, where she had gone to recruit
+      after the season; and, as he meant to cross at night, had come to spend a
+      few hours with his cousin. There was still an hour to spare, during which
+      Lady Merrifield insisted that he must have more solid food than G.F.S.
+      provided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Lily,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to the house together, &lsquo;it
+      strikes me that Rotherwood could satisfy your mind about that letter. He
+      would know the handwriting. You remember a certain brother&mdash;very much
+      in law&mdash;of Maurice&rsquo;s?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I have reason to do so,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood. &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t mean that he
+      has been troubling Lily?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; but from the nature of the animal it is much to be apprehended that
+      he will,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun, &lsquo;if he knows that the child is here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;In fact,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;Jane has made me suppress, till
+      examination, a letter to her, in case it should be from him. It is a
+      horrid thing to do. What do you think, Rotherwood?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There should be no correspondence. Did not Maurice warn you? Then he
+      ought. Look here, Lily. His wife&mdash;under strong compulsion from the
+      fellow, I should think&mdash;begged me to find some employment for him. I
+      got him a secretaryship to our Board of&mdash;what d&rsquo;ye call it? I&rsquo;ll do
+      Maurice the justice to say that he was considerably cool about it; but the
+      end of it was that there was an unaccountable deficit, and my lady said it
+      served me right. I was a fool, as I always am, and gave way to the poor
+      woman about not bringing it home to him. And she insisted on making it up
+      to me by degrees&mdash;out of her literary work, I fancy&mdash;for I don&rsquo;t
+      think Maurice knew the extent of the peculation. Ever since I&rsquo;ve been
+      getting begging letters from the fellow at intervals. If he had the
+      impertinence to molest you, Lily, simply refer him to me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And if he writes to the child?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Return him the letter. Say she can have no such thing without her
+      father&rsquo;s consent.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is this a case in point?&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, producing the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said he, holding it up in the waning light. &lsquo;I know the fellow&rsquo;s
+      fist too well! This is a gentleman&rsquo;s hand.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What a relief!&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nay, don&rsquo;t be in a hurry,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun. &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t give it to her
+      unopened. Your only safety is in maintaining your right to see all the
+      child&rsquo;s letters, except what her father specified.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you wish it was you, Brownie?&rsquo; asked her cousin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hate it!&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield; &lsquo;but I suppose I ought! However,
+      there&rsquo;s no harm in this, that&rsquo;s a comfort; it is simply that the gentleman
+      that the house is let to has found this note to her somewhere about, and
+      thinks she would wish to have it. I think it is her mother&rsquo;s hand. How
+      nice of him!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now, Lily, don&rsquo;t go and be too apologetic,&rsquo; said Jane. &lsquo;Assert your
+      right, or you&rsquo;ll have it all over again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Without Jenny to do prudence,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood, while Lady
+      Merrifield, hardly hearing either of them, hurried on in search of her
+      niece, but they would have been satisfied if they could have heard her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, here&rsquo;s your letter. I am so sorry to have been too much hindered
+      to look at it before. You must not mind, Dolly. I know it is very
+      disagreeable; but every one who has the care of precious articles like
+      young ladies is bound to look after them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores took the letter with a kind of acknowledgement, but no more, for
+      its detention offended her, and she was aggrieved at the prospect of
+      future inspection, as another cruel stroke inflicted upon her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Adeline was found in the drawing-room, where she had entertained such
+      ladies as were afraid of the damp, or who did not approve of the dancing,
+      and would not look on at it. Thence all went off to a merry meal, where
+      the elders plunged into old stories, and went on capping each others&rsquo; 
+      recollections and making fun, to the extreme delight of the young folk,
+      who had often been entertained with tales of Beechcroft. Aunt Ada declared
+      that she had not laughed so much for ten years, and Aunt Jane declared
+      that it was too bad to lower their dignity and be so absurd before all
+      these young things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It&rsquo;s having four of the old set together!&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood; &lsquo;a
+      chance one doesn&rsquo;t get every day. I wonder how soon Maurice and Phyllis
+      will meet.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It depends on whether the Zenobia touches at Auckland before going to the
+      Fijis,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There is at least a sort of neighbourhood between them,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun,
+      &lsquo;though it may be about as close as between us and Sicily.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She is looking out for Maurice,&rsquo; said Aunt Ada. &lsquo;She wrote, only it was
+      too late, to propose his bringing Dolores to be at least nearer to him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just like Phyllis!&rsquo; ejaculated the marquess. &lsquo;You have one of your flock
+      with something of her countenance, Lily.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am so glad you see it, Rotherwood. It is what I am always trying to
+      believe in, and I hope the likeness is a little within as well as without&mdash;but
+      we poor creatures who have been tumbled about the world get sophisticated,
+      and can&rsquo;t attain to the sweet, blundering freshness of &ldquo;Honest
+      Simplicity.&rdquo;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is a plant that must be spontaneous&mdash;can&rsquo;t be grown to order.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;His lordship&rsquo;s carriage at the door,&rsquo; announced Macrae.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah, well! Trains must be caught, I suppose. I&rsquo;m glad you&rsquo;re settled here,
+      Lilias. I feel as if a sort of reflex of old Beechcroft were attainable
+      now.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hope it won&rsquo;t be a G.F.S. day next time you come!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, it was very jolly. I shall bring my child next time, if I can get her
+      out of the clutches of the governesses for a day, but it is a hard matter.
+      They look daggers at me if I put my head into the schoolroom.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You always were a dangerous element there, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poor dear Eleanor! What did I not make her go through! But she never went
+      the length of one of my lady&rsquo;s governesses, who declared that she had as
+      much call to interfere in my stable, as I had with her schoolroom.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What mischief were you doing there?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, if you must know, I was enlivening a very dry and Cromwellian
+      abridgement with some of Lily&rsquo;s old cavalier anecdotes, so Lily was at the
+      bottom of it, you see.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But did she fall on you then and there?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no. I trust my beard is too grey for that. But she looked at me with
+      impressive dignity such as neither poor little Fly nor I could stand, and
+      afterwards betook herself to Victoria, who, I am happy to say, sent her to
+      the right about.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;As I am about to do,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield; &lsquo;for if you don&rsquo;t miss your
+      train, it will be by cruelty to animals. No, you&rsquo;ve not got time to shake
+      hands with all that rabble. Be off with you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! I shall tell Victoria that if she sees me tomorrow it&rsquo;s all owing to
+      your unpitying punctuality,&rsquo; said he, shaking himself into his overcoat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear old fellow!&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, as she turned from the front
+      door, while he drove off. &lsquo;He is like a gust of old Beechcroft air! But I
+      should think Victoria had a handful.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She knew what she was doing,&rsquo; said Aunt Ada. &lsquo;I always thought she
+      married him for the sake of breaking him in.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And very well she has done it, too,&rsquo; returned Aunt Jane. &lsquo;Only now and
+      then he gets a holiday, and then the real creature breaks out again. But
+      it is much better so. He would not have been of half so much good
+      otherwise.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield looked from one to the other, but said no more, for all
+      the young folks were round her; but every one was so much tired, children,
+      servants, and all, that prayers were read early, and all went to their
+      rooms. Yet, tired as she was, Lady Merrifield sat on in her sister Jane&rsquo;s
+      room, in her dressing-gown, talking according to another revival of olden
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What did Ada mean about Rotherwood? Isn&rsquo;t he happy?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, very happy; and it is much the best thing that could have
+      happened. It is only another of the proofs that life is very long,
+      especially for men.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Come, now, tell me all about it. You don&rsquo;t know how often I feel as if I
+      had been buried and dug up again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There are things one can&rsquo;t write about. Poor fellow! he never really
+      wanted to marry anybody but Phyllis.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No! you don&rsquo;t mean it! I never knew it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, for you were in the utmost parts of the earth; and he was very good,
+      so that I don&rsquo;t believe honest Phyl herself, or any one without eyes,
+      guessed it; but he had it all out with our father, who begged him, almost
+      on that allegiance he had always shown, to abstain from beginning about
+      it. You see, not only are they first cousins, but our mother and his
+      father both were consumptive, and there was dear Claude even then
+      regularly breaking down every winter, and Ada needing to be looked after
+      like a hothouse plan. I&rsquo;m sure, when I think of the last generation of
+      Devereuxes, I wonder so many of us have been tough enough to weather the
+      dangerous age; and there had been an alarm or two about Rotherwood
+      himself. Well, he was very good, half from obedience, half from being
+      convinced that it would be a selfish thing, and especially from being
+      wholly convinced that Phyl&rsquo;s feelings were not stirred. That was the way I
+      came to know about it, for papa took me out for a drive in the old gig to
+      ask what I thought about her heart, and I could truly and honestly say she
+      had never found it, cared for Rotherwood just as she did for Reggie, and
+      was not the sort to think whether a man was attentive to her. Besides, she
+      was eighteen, and he thirty-one, and she thought him venerable. I believe,
+      if he had asked her then, she might have taken him (because Cousin
+      Rotherwood wished it), but she would have had to fall in love in the
+      second place instead of the first. Well, he was very good, poor old
+      fellow, except that by way of taking himself off, and diverting his mind,
+      he went dear-stalking with such unnecessary vehemence that a Scotch mist
+      was very nearly the death of him, and he discovered that he had as many
+      lungs as other people. If you could only have seen our dear old father
+      then, how distressed and how guilty he felt, and how he used to watch
+      Phyllis, and examine Alethea and me as to whether she seemed more than
+      reasonably concerned for Rotherwood had come and hit the right nail on the
+      head he might have carried her off.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But he didn&rsquo;t.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; for, you see, he was ill enough to convince himself, as well as other
+      people, that he was a consumptive Devereux after all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes! I remember the shock with which I heard like a doom that he was
+      going the way of the others; and hen he and the dear Claude came out in
+      his yacht to us at Gibraltar, and were so bright! We had a wonderful
+      little journey into Spain together, and how Jasper enjoyed it! Little did
+      I think I was never to see Claude here again. But it was true, was it not,
+      that all Rotherwood&rsquo;s care gave the dear fellow much more comfort&mdash;perhaps
+      kept him longer?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sure it was so. Rotherwood soon got over his own attachment&mdash;the
+      missing an English winter was all he needed; but he would hear of nothing
+      but devoting himself to Claude. Papa and Claude were both uneasy at his
+      going off from all his cares and duties, but I believe&mdash;and Claude
+      knew it&mdash;that he actually could not settle down quietly while Phyllis
+      remained unmarried, and that having Claude to nurse and carry about from
+      climate was the comfort of his life. Or, I believe, dear Claude would have
+      been glad to have been left in peace to do what he could. Well, then
+      Phyllis and Ada went to stay in the Close with Emily, and Ada wrote
+      conscious letters and came home bridling and blushing about Captain May,
+      so that we were quite prepared for his turning up at Beechcroft, but not
+      at all for what I saw before he had been ten minutes in the house, that it
+      was Phyllis that he meant, and had meant all along! Dear Harry! it almost
+      made up for its not being Rotherwood. Well, poor Ada! It hadn&rsquo;t gone too
+      deep, happily, and I opened her eyes in time to hinder any demonstration
+      that could have left pain and shame&mdash;at least, I think so; but poor
+      Ada has had too many little fits for one to have told much more than
+      another. I believe Phyl did tell Harry that he meant Ada, but she let
+      herself be convinced to the contrary; and the only objection I have to it
+      is his having taken that appointment at Auckland, and carried her out of
+      reach of any of us. However, it was better for Rotherwood, and when she
+      was gone, and his occupation over with our dear Claude, his mother was
+      always at him to let her see him married before she died. And so he let
+      her have her way. No, don&rsquo;t look concerned. Lady Rotherwood is an
+      excellent, good woman, just the wife for him, and he knows it, and does as
+      she tells him most faithfully and gratefully. They are pattern-folk from
+      top to toe, and so is the boy. But the girl! He would have his way, and
+      named her Phyllis&mdash;Fly he calls her. She is a little skittish elf&mdash;Rotherwood
+      himself all over; and doesn&rsquo;t he worship her! and doesn&rsquo;t he think it a
+      holiday to carry her off to play pranks with! and isn&rsquo;t he happy to get
+      amongst a good lot of us, and be his old self again!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. &mdash; MY PERSECUTED UNCLE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was allowed to go to Casement Cottage on Sunday. It was always
+      rather an awful thing to her to get through the paddock when the farmer&rsquo;s
+      cattle turned out there. She did not mind it so much in the broad road and
+      in the midst of a large party, with Hal among them, and no dogs; but alone
+      with only one companion, and in the easy path which was the shortest way
+      to the cottage, she winced and trembled at the little black, shaggy Scotch
+      oxen, with white horns and faces that looked to her very wild and fierce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Gillian, those creatures! Can&rsquo;t we go the other way?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; it is a great deal further round, and there&rsquo;s no time. They won&rsquo;t
+      hurt. The farmer engaged not to turn out anything vicious here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But how can he be sure?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, don&rsquo;t come if you don&rsquo;t like it,&rsquo; said Gillian, impatiently. &lsquo;It is
+      your own concern. I must go.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not like the notion of Constance being told that she would not
+      come because she was afraid of the oxen. She thought it very unkind of
+      Gillian, but she came, and kept carefully on the side furthest from the
+      formidable animals. And Gillian really was forbearing. She did make
+      allowances for the London-bred girl&rsquo;s fears; and the only thing she did
+      was, that when one of the animals lifted up its head and looked, and
+      Dolores made a spring as if to run away, she caught the girl&rsquo;s arm,
+      crying, &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t! That&rsquo;s the very way to make him run after you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They got safe out of the paddock at last, and rang at the door. They were
+      both kissed, Dolores with especial affectionateness, because the good
+      ladies pitied her so much; and then while Miss Hacket and Gillian went off
+      to their class, Constance took Dolores up into her own room, and began to
+      tell her how disappointed she was not to have seen more of her at the
+      Festival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But those curates would not let me alone. I was obliged to attend to
+      them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then she was very eager to know all about Lord Rotherwood, which
+      rather amazed Dolores, who had been in the habit of hearing her father
+      mention him as &lsquo;that mad fellow Rotherwood,&rsquo; while her mother always spoke
+      with contempt of people who ran after lords and ladies, and had been heard
+      to say that Lord Rotherwood himself was well enough, but his wife was a
+      mere fine lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Dolores had a matter on which she was very anxious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Connie, do they always read one&rsquo;s letters first? I mean the old people,
+      like Aunt Lily.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What! has she been reading your letters?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She says she always shall, except father&rsquo;s and Maude Sefton&rsquo;s, because
+      papa spoke to her about that. She took a letter of mine the other day, and
+      never let me have it till the evening, and I am sure Aunt Jane put her up
+      to it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You poor darling!&rsquo; exclaimed Constance. &lsquo;Was it anything you cared
+      about?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no&mdash;not that&mdash;but there might be. And I want to know whether
+      she has the right.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should not have thought Lady Merrifield would have been so like an old
+      schoolmistress. Miss Dormer always did, the old cat! where I went to
+      school,&rsquo; said Constance. &lsquo;We did hate it so! She looked over every one&rsquo;s
+      letters, except parents&rsquo;, so that we never could have anything nice,
+      except by a chance or so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is tyranny,&rsquo; said Dolores, solemnly. &lsquo;I do not see why one should
+      submit to it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We had dodges,&rsquo; continued Constance, warming with the history of her
+      school-days, and far too eager to talk to think of the harm she might be
+      doing to the younger girl. &lsquo;Sometimes, when a lot of us went to a shop
+      with one of the governesses, one would slip out and post a letter.
+      Fraulein was so short-sighted, she never guessed. We used to call her the
+      jolly old Kafer. But Mademoiselle was very sharp. She once caught Alice
+      Bell, so that she had to make an excuse and say she had dropped something.
+      You see, she really had&mdash;the letter into the slit.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But that was an equivocation.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, you darling scrupulous, long-worded child! You aren&rsquo;t like the girls
+      at Miss Dormer&rsquo;s, only she drove us to it, you know. You&rsquo;ll be horribly
+      shocked, but I&rsquo;ll tell you what Louie Preston did. There was a young man
+      in the town whom she had met at a picnic in the holidays&mdash;a clerk, he
+      was, at the bank&mdash;and he used to put notes to her under the cushions
+      at church; but one unlucky Sunday, Louie had a cold and didn&rsquo;t go, and she
+      told Mabel Blisset to bring it, and Mabel didn&rsquo;t understand the right
+      place, and went poking about, so that Miss Dormer found it out, and there
+      was such a row!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Wasn&rsquo;t that rather vulgar?&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, he was only a clerk, but he was a duck of a man, with regular
+      auburn hair, you know. And he sang! We used to go to the Choral Society
+      concerts, and he sang ballads so beautifully, and always looked at Louie!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should not care for anything of that sort,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;I think it
+      is bad form.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So it is,&rsquo; said Constance, seriously, &lsquo;only one can&rsquo;t help recollecting
+      the fun of the thing, and what one was driven to in those days. Is there
+      any one you are anxious to correspond with?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not in particular, only I can&rsquo;t bear to have Aunt Lilias meddling with my
+      letters; and there&rsquo;s a poor uncle of mine that I know would not like her,
+      or any of the Mohuns, to see his letters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed! Your poor mamma&rsquo;s brother?&rsquo; cried Constance, full of curiosity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mind, it is in confidence. You must never tell any one.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never. Oh, you may trust me!&rsquo; cried Constance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Her half-brother,&rsquo; said Dolores; and the girl proceeded to tell Constance
+      what she had told Maude Sefton about Mr. Flinders, and how her mother had
+      been used to assist him out of her own earnings, and how he had met her at
+      Exeter station, and was so disappointed to have missed her father.
+      Constance listened most eagerly, greatly delighted to have a secret
+      confided to her, and promising to keep it with all her might.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And now,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;what shall I do? If poor Uncle Alfred writes to
+      me, Aunt Lilias will have the letter and read it, and the Mohuns are all
+      so stuck up; they will despise him, and very likely she will never let me
+      have the letter.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but, dear, couldn&rsquo;t you write here, with my things, and tell him how
+      it is, and tell him to write under cover to me?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear Connie! How good you are! Yes, that would be quite delightful!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the confidences and all the caresses had, however, taken quite as long
+      as the G.F.S. class, and before Constance had cleared a space on the table
+      for Dolores&rsquo;s letter, there was a summons to say that Gillian was ready to
+      go home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So early!&rsquo; said Constance. &lsquo;I thought you would have had tea and stayed
+      to evening service.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should like it so much,&rsquo; cried Dolores, remembering that it would spare
+      her the black oxen in the cross-path, as well as giving her the time with
+      her friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So they went down with the invitation, but Gillian replied that mamma
+      always liked to have all together for the Catechism, and that she could
+      not venture to leave Dolores without special permission.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Quite right, my dear,&rsquo; said Miss Hacket. &lsquo;Connie would be very sorry to
+      do anything against Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s rules. We shall see you again in a
+      day or two.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And this is the way in which Constance kept her friend&rsquo;s secret. When Miss
+      Hacket had done her further work with a G.F.S. young woman who needed
+      private instruction to prepare her for baptism, the two sisters sat down
+      to a leisurely tea before starting for evensong; in the first place,
+      Constance detailed all she had discovered as to the connection with Lord
+      Rotherwood, in which subject, it must be confessed, good Miss Hacket took
+      a lively interest, having never so closely encountered a live marquess,
+      &lsquo;and so affable,&rsquo; she contended; upon which Constance declared that they
+      were all stuck-up, and were very unkind and hard to poor darling Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know. I cannot fancy dear Lady Merrifield being unkind to any
+      one, especially a dear girl as good as an orphan,&rsquo; said Miss Hacket, who,
+      if not the cleverest of women, was one of the best and most warm-hearted.
+      &lsquo;And, indeed, Connie, I don&rsquo;t think dear Gillian and Mysie feel at all
+      unkindly to their cousin.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! that&rsquo;s just like you, Mary. You never see more than the outside, but
+      then I am in dear Dolly&rsquo;s confidence.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What do you mean, Connie?&rsquo; said Miss Hacket, eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance had come home from school with the reputation of being much more
+      accomplished than her elder sister, who had grown up while her father was
+      a curate of very straitened means, and thus, though her junior, she was
+      thought wonderfully superior in discernment and everything else.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said Constance, &lsquo;what do you think of Lady Merrifield sending her
+      to bed for staying late here that morning?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That was strict, certainly; but you know she sent Mysie too. It was all
+      my own thoughtlessness for detaining them,&rsquo; said the good elder sister. &lsquo;I
+      was so grieved!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Constance, &lsquo;it sounds all very well to say Mysie was treated
+      in the same way, but in the afternoon Mysie was allowed to go and make
+      messes with blackberry jam, while poor Dolly was kept shut up in the
+      schoolroom!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance did not like Lady Merrifield, who had unconsciously snubbed some
+      of her affectations, and nipped in the bud a flirtation with Harry,
+      besides calling off some of the curates to be helpful. But Miss Hacket
+      admired her neighbour as much as her sister would permit, and made answer&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is so hard to judge, my dear, without knowing all. Perhaps Mysie had
+      finished her lessons.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! I know you always are for Lady Merrifield! But what do you say, then,
+      to her prying into all that poor child&rsquo;s correspondence?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I think most people do think it advisable to have some check on
+      young girl&rsquo;s letters. Perhaps Dolores&rsquo;s father desired it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He never put on any restrictions,&rsquo; said Constance. &lsquo;I am sure he never
+      would. Men don&rsquo;t. It is always women, with their nasty, prying, tyrannous
+      instincts.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sure,&rsquo; returned Mary, &lsquo;one would not think a child like Dolores
+      Mohun could have anything to conceal.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But she has!&rsquo; cried Constance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, my dear! Impossible!&rsquo; exclaimed Miss Hacket, looking very much
+      shocked. &lsquo;Why, she can&rsquo;t be fourteen!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! it is nothing of that sort. Don&rsquo;t think about that, Mary.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no, I know, Connie dear; you would never listen to any young girl&rsquo;s
+      confidence of that kind&mdash;so improper and so vulgar,&rsquo; said Miss
+      Hacket, and Constance did not think it necessary to reveal her knowledge
+      of the post-office under the cushions at church, and other little affairs
+      of that sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is her uncle,&rsquo; said Constance. &lsquo;Her mother, it seems, though quite a
+      lady, was the daughter of a professor, a very learned man, very
+      distinguished, and all that, but not a high family enough to please the
+      Mohuns, and they never were friendly with her, or treated her as an
+      equal.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That couldn&rsquo;t have been Lady Merrifield,&rsquo; persevered Miss Hacket. &lsquo;She
+      lamented to me herself that she had been out of England for so many years
+      that she had scarcely seen Mrs. Maurice Mohun.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, there were the Miss Mohuns and all the rest!&rsquo; said Constance. &lsquo;Why,
+      Dolores has only once been at the family place. And her mother had a
+      brother, an author and a journalist, a very clever man, and the Mohuns
+      have always regularly persecuted him. He has been very unfortunate, and
+      Mrs. Maurice Mohun has done her utmost to help him, writing in periodicals
+      and giving the proceeds to him. Wasn&rsquo;t that sweet? And now Dolores feels
+      quite cut off from him; and she is so fond of him, poor darling for her
+      mother&rsquo;s sake.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tender-hearted as Miss Hacket was, she had seen enough of life to have
+      some inkling of what being very unfortunate might sometimes mean.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should think,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;that Lady Merrifield would never withhold
+      from the child any letter it was proper she should have, especially from a
+      relation.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but I tell you she did keep back a letter on the festival day till
+      she had looked at it. Poor Dolores saw it come, and she saw a glance pass
+      between her and Miss Mohun, and she is quite sure, she says, her Aunt Jane
+      had been poisoning her mind about this poor persecuted uncle, and that she
+      shall never be allowed to hear from him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose there can be much for him to say to her,&rsquo; said Miss
+      Hacket. Then, after a little reflection, &lsquo;Connie, my dear, I really think
+      you had better not interfere. There may be reasons that this poor child
+      knows nothing about for keeping her aloof from this uncle.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but her mother helped him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She was his sister. That was quite another thing. Indeed, Connie,&rsquo; said
+      Miss Hacket, more earnestly, &lsquo;I am quite sure that you will use your
+      influence&mdash;and you have a great deal of influence, you know&mdash;most
+      kindly by persuading this dear child to be happy with the Merrifields and
+      submit to their arrangements.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are infatuated with Lady Merrifield,&rsquo; muttered Constance. &lsquo;Ah! how
+      little you know!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the first warning note of the bell ended the discussion, and
+      Constance did not think it necessary to tell her sister of the offer she
+      had made to Dolores. In her eyes, Mary, who was the eldest of the family,
+      had always been of the dull, grown-up, authoritative faction of the
+      elders, while she herself was still one of the sweet junior party, full of
+      antagonism to them, and ready to elude them in any way. Besides, she had
+      promised her darling Dolores; and the thing was quite romantic; nor could
+      any one call it blame-worthy, since it was nothing like a lover&mdash;not
+      even a young man, but only a persecuted uncle in distress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So she awaited anxiously the next Sunday when Dolores&rsquo;s letter was to be
+      written in her room. To tell the truth, Dolores could quite as easily have
+      written in her own, and brought down the letter in her pocket, if she had
+      been eager about the matter; but she was not, except under the influence
+      of making a grievance. She had never written to Uncle Alfred in her life,
+      nor he to her; and his visits to her mother had always led to something
+      uncomfortable. Nor would she have thought about the subject at all if it
+      had not been for the sore sense that she was cut off from him, as she
+      fancied, because he belonged to her mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing particular had happened that week. There had been no very striking
+      offences one way or the other; she was working better with her lessons and
+      understanding more of Miss Vincent&rsquo;s methods. She perceived that they were
+      thorough, and respected them accordingly, and she had had the great
+      satisfaction of getting more good marks for French and German than Mysie.
+      She had become interested in &lsquo;The Old Oak Staircase,&rsquo; and began to look
+      forward to Aunt Lily&rsquo;s readings as the best part of the day. But she had
+      not drawn in the least nearer to any of the family. She absolutely
+      disliked, almost hated, the quarter of an hour which Aunt Lily devoted to
+      her religious teaching every morning, though nobody was present, not even
+      Primrose. She nearly refused to learn, and said as badly as possible the
+      very small portions she was bidden to learn by heart, and she closed her
+      mind up against taking in the sense of the very short readings and her
+      aunt&rsquo;s comments on them. It seemed to her to be treating her like a
+      Sunday-school child, and insulting her mother, who had never troubled her
+      in this manner. Her aunt said no word of reproach, except to insist on
+      attention and accuracy of repetition; but there came to be an unusual
+      gravity and gentleness about her in these lessons, as if she were keeping
+      a guard over herself, and often a greatly disappointed look, which
+      exasperated Dolores much more than a scolding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie had left off courting her cousin, finding that it only brought her
+      rebuffs, and went her own way as before, pleased and honoured when Gillian
+      would consort with her, but generally paring with her younger sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores, though hitherto ungracious, missed her attentions, and decided
+      that they were &lsquo;all falseness.&rsquo; Wilfred absolutely did tease and annoy her
+      whenever he could, Fergus imitated him, and Valetta enjoyed and abetted
+      him. These three had all been against her ever since the affair of the
+      arrow; but Wilfred had not many opportunities of tormenting her, for in
+      the house there was a perpetual quiet supervision and influence. Mrs.
+      Halfpenny was sure to detect traps in the passage, or bounces at the door.
+      Miss Vincent looked daggers if other people&rsquo;s lesson books were interfered
+      with. Mamma had eyes all round, and nobody dared to tease or play tricks
+      in her presence. Hal, Gillian, and even Mysie always thwarted such amiable
+      acts as putting a dead wasp into a shoe, or snapping a book in the
+      reader&rsquo;s face; while, as to venturing into the general family active
+      games, Dolores would have felt it like rushing into a corobboree of
+      savages!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was one wet afternoon when they could not even get as far as to the
+      loft over the stables; at least the little ones could not have done so,
+      and it was decided that it would be very cruel to them for all the others
+      to run off, and leave them to Mrs. Halfpenny; so the plan was given up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Partly because Lady Merrifield thought it very amiable in Mysie and
+      Valetta to make the sacrifice, and partly to disperse the thundercloud she
+      saw gathering on Wilfred&rsquo;s brow, she not only consented to a magnificent
+      and extraordinary game at wolves and bears all over the house, but even
+      devoted herself to keeping Mrs. Halfpenny quiet by shutting herself into
+      the nursery to look over all the wardrobes, and decide what was to &lsquo;go
+      down&rsquo; in the family, and what was to be given away, and what must be
+      absolutely renewed. It was an operation that Mrs. Halfpenny enjoyed so
+      much, that it warranted her to be deaf to shrieks and trampling, and
+      almost to forget the chances of gathers and kilting being torn out, and
+      trap-doors appearing in skirts and pinafores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All that time Dolores sat hunched up in her own room, reading &lsquo;Clare, or
+      No Home,&rsquo; and realizing the persecutions suffered by that afflicted child,
+      who had just been nearly drowned in rescuing her wickedest cousin, and was
+      being carried into her noble grandfather&rsquo;s house, there to be recognized
+      by her golden hair being exactly the colour it was when she was a baby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were horrible growlings at times outside her door, and she bolted it
+      by way of precaution. Once there was a bounce against it, but Gillian&rsquo;s
+      voice might be heard in the distance calling off the wolves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came a lull. The wolves and bears had rushed up and down stairs till
+      they were quite exhausted and out of breath, especially as Primrose had
+      always been a cub, and gone in the arms of Hal or Gillian; Fergus at last
+      had rolled down three steps, and been caught by Wilfred, who, in his
+      character of bear, hugged and mauled him till his screams grew violent.
+      Harry had come to the rescue, and it was decided that there had been
+      enough of this, and that there should be a grand exhibition of tableaux
+      from the history of England in the dining-room, which of course mamma was
+      to guess, with the assistance of any one who was not required to act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mama, ever obliging, hastily condemned two or three sunburnt hats and
+      ancient pairs of shoes, to be added to the bundle for Miss Hacket&rsquo;s
+      distribution, and let herself be hauled off to act audience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But where&rsquo;s Dolly?&rsquo; she asked, as she looked at the assemblage on the
+      stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Bolted into her room, like a donkey,&rsquo; said Wilfred, the last clause under
+      his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed, mamma, we did ask her, and gave her the choice between wolves and
+      bears,&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Unfortunately she is bear without choosing,&rsquo; said Gill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A sucking of her paws in a hollow tree,&rsquo; chimed in Hal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hush! hush!&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, looking pained; &lsquo;perhaps the choice
+      seemed very terrible to a poor only child like that. We, who had the luck
+      to be one of many, don&rsquo;t know what wild cats you may all seem to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She never will play at anything,&rsquo; said Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She doesn&rsquo;t know how to,&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And won&rsquo;t be taught,&rsquo; added Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But that&rsquo;s very dreadful,&rsquo; exclaimed Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;Fancy a poor child
+      of thirteen not knowing how to play. I shall go and dig her out!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to which Dolores answered&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t you let me alone? Go away,&rsquo; thinking it a treacherous ruse of the
+      enemy to effect an entrance; but when her aunt said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is there anything the matter, my dear? Won&rsquo;t you let me in?&rsquo; she was
+      obliged to open it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, there&rsquo;s nothing the matter,&rsquo; she allowed. &lsquo;Only I wanted them to let
+      me alone.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They have not been rude to you, I hope.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention the bouncing, so she
+      allowed that no one had been rude to her, but she hated romping, which she
+      managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt for suffering it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! you have not been used to wholesome exercise in large families. I
+      dare say it seems formidable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale. I
+      can&rsquo;t allow you to stay stuffed up there, poking over a book all the
+      afternoon. It is very bad for you. We are going to have some historical
+      tableaux. They are to have one set, and I thought perhaps you and I would
+      get up some for them to guess in turn.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she did not quite dare to say
+      she did not choose to make herself ridiculous, and she knew there was
+      authority in the tone, so she followed and endured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before the bright grate in the
+      dining-room, and having his ears beautifully boxed. Also Knut and the
+      waves, which were graphically represented by letting the wind in under the
+      drugget, and pulling it up gradually over his feet, but these, Mysie
+      explained, were only for the little ones. Rollo and his substitute doing
+      homage to Charles the Simple, were much more effective; as Gillian in that
+      old military cloak of her father&rsquo;s, which had seen as much service in the
+      play-room as in the field, stood and scowled at Wilfred in the crown and
+      mamma&rsquo;s ermine mantle, being overthrown by Harry at his full height.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The excitement was immense when it was announced that mamma had a tableau
+      to represent with the help of Dolores, who was really warming a little to
+      the interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike being dressed up
+      with one of the boy&rsquo;s caps with three ostrich feathers, to accompany her
+      aunt in hood and cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who had, together with
+      the bow and papa&rsquo;s old regimental sword, been borrowed to personate the
+      robber of Hexham. Everybody screamed with ecstasy except Fergus, who
+      thought it very hard that he should not have been Prince Edward instead of
+      a stupid girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So, to content all parties, mama undertook to bring in as many as
+      possible, and a series from the life of Elizabeth Woodville was
+      accordingly arranged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She stood under the oak, represented by the hall chandelier, with Fergus
+      and Primrose as her infant sons, and fascinated King Edward on the
+      rocking-horse, which was much too vivant, for it reared as perpendicularly
+      as it could, and then nearly descended on its nose, to mark the rider&rsquo;s
+      feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, with her hair let down, which was stipulated for, though, as she
+      observed, nothing would make it the right colour, she sat desolate on the
+      hearth, surrounded by as many daughters as could be spared from being
+      spectators, as her youngest son was born off from her maternal arms by a
+      being as like a cardinal as a Galway cloak, disposed tippet fashion, could
+      make him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She could not be spared to put up her hair again before she had to forget
+      her maternal feelings and be mere audience, while her two sons were
+      smothered by Mysie and Dolores, converted into murderers one and two by
+      slouched hats. Fergus, a little afraid of being actually suffocated, began
+      to struggle, setting off Wilfred, and the adventure was having a
+      conclusion, which would have accounted for the authentic existence of
+      Perkin Warbeck, when&mdash;oh horror! there was a peal at the door-bell,
+      and before there was a moment for the general scurry, Herbert the
+      button-boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted Mr. Leadbitter,
+      to whom, as a late sixth standard boy, he had a special allegiance, and,
+      having spied him coming, hurried to let him in out of the rain instantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At least, such was the charitable interpretation. Harry strongly suspected
+      that the imp had been a concealed spectator all the time, and had
+      particularly relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which, after all,
+      was much greater on the part of the Vicar than any one else, as he was a
+      rather stiff, old-fashioned gentleman. Lady Merrifield only laughed, said
+      she had been beguiled into wet day sports with the children, begged him to
+      excuse her for a moment or two, and tripped away, followed by Gillian to
+      help her, quickly reappearing in her lace cap as the graceful matron, even
+      before Mr. Leadbitter had quite done blushing and quoting to Harry
+      &lsquo;desipere in loco,&rsquo; as he was assisted off with his dripping, shiny
+      waterproof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After all no harm would have been done if&mdash;Harry and Gillian being
+      both off guard&mdash;Valetta had not exclaimed most unreasonably in her
+      disappointment&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores came in for it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Mr. Murderer, you squashed my little finger and all but smothered
+      me,&rsquo; cried Fergus, throwing himself on Dolores and dropping her down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t! don&rsquo;t! you know you mustn&rsquo;t,&rsquo; screamed valiant Mysie, flying to
+      the rescue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Murderers! Murderers must be done for,&rsquo; shouted Wilfred, falling upon
+      Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You shan&rsquo;t hurt my Mysie,&rsquo; bellowed Valetta, hurling herself upon
+      Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And there they were all in a heap, when Gillian, summoned by the shrieks,
+      came down from helping her mother, pulled Valetta off Wilfred, Wilfred off
+      Mysie, Mysie off Fergus, and Fergus off Dolores, who was discovered at the
+      bottom with an angry, frightened face, and all her hair standing on end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Are you hurt, Dolores? I am very sorry,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;It was very
+      naughty. Go up to the nursery, Fergus and Val, and be made fit to be
+      seen.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They obeyed, crestfallen. Dolores felt herself all over. It would have
+      been gratifying to have had some injury to complain of, but she had fallen
+      on the prince&rsquo;s cushions, and there really was none. So she only said,
+      &lsquo;No, I&rsquo;m not hurt, though it is a wonder;&rsquo; and off she walked to bolt
+      herself into her own room again, there to brood on Valetta&rsquo;s speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It worked up into a very telling and pathetic history for Constance&rsquo;s
+      sympathizing ears on Sunday, especially as it turned out to be one of the
+      things not reported to mamma.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And on that day, Dolores, being reminded of it by her friend, sent a
+      letter to Mr. Flinders to the office of the paper for which he worked in
+      London, to tell him that if he wished to write to her as he had promised
+      he must address under cover to Miss Constance Hacket, Casement Cottage, as
+      otherwise Aunt Lilias would certainly read all his letters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. &mdash; LETTERS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Constance Hacket was very much excited about the address to Dolores&rsquo;s
+      letter to her uncle. She had not noticed it at the moment that it was
+      written, but she did when she posted it; and the next time she could get
+      her young friend alone, she eagerly demanded what Mr. Flinders had to do
+      with the Many Tongues, and why her niece wrote to him at the office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He writes the criticisms,&rsquo; said Dolores, magnificently; for though she
+      despised pluming herself on any connection with a marquess, she did
+      greatly esteem that with the world of letters. &lsquo;You know we are all
+      literary.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, I know! But what kind of criticisms do you mean? I suppose it is
+      a very clever paper?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course it it,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;but I don&rsquo;t think I ever saw it. Father
+      never takes in society papers. I believe he does criticisms on plays and
+      novels. I know he always has tickets for all the theatres and exhibitions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not say how she did know it, for a pang smote her as she
+      remembered dimly a scene, when her father had forbidden her mother to
+      avail herself of escort thus obtained. Nor was she sure that the word all
+      was accurately the fact; but it was delightful to impress Constance, who
+      cried, &lsquo;How perfectly delicious! I suppose he can get any article into his
+      paper!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, of course,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did your dear mother write in it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; it was not her line. She used to write metaphysical and scientific
+      articles in the first-class reviews and magazines, and the Many Tongues is
+      what they call a society paper, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, I know. There are charming things about the Upper Ten Thousand.
+      They tell all that is going on, but I hardly ever can see one. Mary won&rsquo;t
+      take in anything about Church Bells, and we get the Guardian when it is a
+      week old, and my brother James has done with it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear me! How dreadful!&rsquo; said Dolores, who had been used to see all manner
+      of papers come in as regularly as hot rolls. &lsquo;Why, you never can know
+      anything! We didn&rsquo;t take in society papers, because father does not care
+      for gossip or grandees. He has other pursuits. I can show you some of dear
+      mother&rsquo;s articles. There&rsquo;s one called &lsquo;Unconscious Volition,&rsquo; and another
+      on the &lsquo;Progress of Species.&rsquo; I&rsquo;ll bring them down next time I come.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Have you read them?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; they are too difficult. Mother was so very clever, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She must have been,&rsquo; said Constance, with a sigh; &lsquo;but how did she get
+      them published?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Sent them to the editor, of course,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;They all knew her,
+      and were glad to get anything that she wrote.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! that is what it is to have an introduction,&rsquo; sighed Constance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What! have you written anything?&rsquo; cried Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only a few little trifles,&rsquo; said Constance, modestly. &lsquo;It is a great
+      secret, you know, a dead secret.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! I&rsquo;ll keep it. I told you my secret, you know, so you might tell me
+      yours.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so to Dolores were confided sundry verses and tales on which Constance
+      had been wont to spend a good deal of her time in that pretty
+      sitting-room. She had actually sent her manuscripts to magazines, but she
+      had heard no more of one, and the other had been returned declined with
+      thanks&mdash;all for want of an introduction. Dolores was delighted to
+      promise that as soon as she heard from Uncle Alfred, she would get him to
+      patronize them, and the reading occupied several Sunday afternoons.
+      Dolores suggested, however, that a goody-goody story about a choir-boy
+      lost in the snow would never do for the Many Tongues, and a far more
+      exciting one was taken up, called &lsquo;The Waif of the Moorland,&rsquo; being the
+      story of a maiden, whom a wicked step-mother was suspected of murdering,
+      but who walked from time to time like the &lsquo;Woman in White.&rsquo; There was only
+      too much time for the romance; for weeks passed and there was no answer
+      from Mr. Flinders. It was possible that he might have broken off his
+      connection with the paper, only then the letter would probably have been
+      returned; and the other alternative was less agreeable, that it was not
+      worth his while to write to his niece. While as to Maude Sefton, nothing
+      was heard of her. Were her letters intercepted? And so the winter side of
+      autumn set in. Hal was gone to Oxford, and there had been time for letters
+      to come from Mr. Mohun, posted from Auckland, New Zealand, where he had
+      made a halt with his sister, Mrs. Harry May, otherwise Aunt Phyllis.
+      Dolores was very much pleased to receive her letter, and to have it all to
+      herself; but, after all, she was somewhat disappointed in it, for there
+      was really nothing in it that might not have been proclaimed round the
+      breakfast-table, like the public letters from that quarter of the family
+      who were at Rawul Pindee. It told of deep-sea soundings and investigations
+      into the creatures at the bottom of the sea, of Portuguese men-of-war, and
+      albatrosses; and there were some orders to scientific-instrument makers
+      for her to send to them&mdash;a very improving letter, but a good deal
+      like a book of travels. Only at the end did the writer say, &lsquo;I hope my
+      little daughter is happy among her cousins, and takes care to give her
+      aunt no trouble, and to profit by her kind care. Your three cousins here,
+      Mary, Lily, and Maggie, are exceedingly nice girls, and much interested
+      about you; indeed, they wish I had brought you with me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores read her letter over and over and over, for the pleasure of having
+      something all to herself, and never communicated a word about the
+      miscroscopic monsters her father had described, but she drew her head back
+      and reflected, &lsquo;He little knows,&rsquo; when he spoke of her being happy among
+      her cousins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield likewise received a letter, about which she did not say
+      much to her children, but Miss Mohun, who had had a much longer one, came
+      over for the day to read this to her sister. In point of fact, she had
+      paired in childhood with her brother Maurice. She had been his
+      correspondent in school and college days, and being a person never easily
+      rebuffed, she had kept up more intercourse with him and his wife than any
+      others of the family had done, and he had preserved the habit of writing
+      to her much more freely and unreservedly than to any one else. So the day
+      after the New Zealand letters came, just as the historical reading and
+      needlework were in full force, the schoolroom door was opened, and a brisk
+      little figure stood there in sealskin coat and hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Up jumped mamma. &lsquo;Oh! Jenny! Brownie indeed! How did you come? You didn&rsquo;t
+      walk from the station?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, why not? Otherwise I should have been too soon, and have disturbed
+      the lessons,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane, in the intervals of the greeting kisses.
+      &lsquo;All well with the Indian folks?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes; they&rsquo;ve come back from the emerald valleys of Cashmere, and
+      Alethea has actually sent me a primrose&mdash;just like an English one&mdash;that
+      they found growing there. They did enjoy it so. Have you heard from
+      Maurice?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, I thought you would like to hear about Phyllis, so, having enjoyed
+      it with Ada, I brought it over for further enjoyment with you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s a dear old Brownie! We&rsquo;ve a good hour before dinner. Shall we read
+      it to the general public, or shall we adjourn to the drawing-room?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I assure you it is very instructive. Quite as much so as Miss
+      Sewell&rsquo;s &lsquo;Rome.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Aunt Jane, whom Gillian had aided in disrobing herself of her outdoor
+      garments, was installed by the fire, and unfolded a whole volume of thin,
+      mauve sheets in Mr. Mohun&rsquo;s tiny Greek-looking handwriting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a sort of journal of his voyage. There were all the same accounts
+      of the minute creatures that are incipient chalk, and their exquisite
+      cells, made, some of coral, some of silex spicule from sponges; the some
+      descriptions of phosphorescent animals, meduse, and the like, that Dolores
+      had thought her own special treasure and privilege, only a great deal
+      fuller, and with the scientific terms untranslated&mdash;indeed, Aunt Jane
+      had now and then to stop and explain, since she had always kept up with
+      the course of modern discovery. There was also much more about his
+      shipmates, with one or two of whom Mr. Mohun had evidently made great
+      friends. He told his sister a great deal about them, and his conversations
+      with them, whereas he had only told Dolores abut one little midshipman
+      getting into a scrape. Perhaps nothing else was to be expected, but it
+      made her feel the contrast between being treated with real confidence and
+      as a mere child, and it seemed to put her father further away from her
+      than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came the conclusion, written on shore&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Harry May came on board to take me home with him. He is a fine, genial
+      fellow and his welcome did one&rsquo;s heart good. I never did him justice
+      before; but I see his good sense and superiority called into play out
+      here. Depend upon it, there&rsquo;s nothing like going to the other end of the
+      world to teach the value of home ties.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well done, Maurice,&rsquo; exclaimed Lady Merrifield; but she glanced at
+      Dolores and checked herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Mohun went on, &lsquo;Phyllis met me at the door of a pleasant,
+      English-looking house, with all her tribe about her. She has the true
+      &lsquo;honest Phyl&rsquo; face still, carrying me back over some thirty or forty years
+      of life, and as you would imagine, she is a capital mother, with all her
+      flock well in hand, and making themselves thoroughly useful in the
+      scarcity of servants; though the other matters do not seem neglected. The
+      eldest can talk like a well informed girl, and shows reasonable interest
+      in things in general; but Phyllis wants to put finishing touches to their
+      education, and her husband talks of throwing up his appointment before
+      long, as he is anxious to go home while his father lives. I wish I had
+      gone to Stoneborough before coming out here, now that I see what a
+      gratification it would have been if I could have brought a fresh report of
+      old Dr. May. (Somehow, I think there has been a numbness or obtuseness
+      about me all these last two years which hindered me from perceiving or
+      doing much that I now regret, since either the change or the wholesome
+      atmosphere of this house has wakened me as it were. Among these ungracious
+      omissions is what I now am much concerned to think of, that I never went
+      to see Lilias when I committed my child to her charge; nor talked over her
+      disposition. Not that I really understand it as I ought to have done when
+      the poor child was left to me. I take shame to myself when Phyllis
+      questions me about her), but as I watch these children with their parents
+      I am quite convinced that the being taken under Lily&rsquo;s motherly wing is by
+      far the best thing that could have befallen Dolores, and that my absence
+      is for her real benefit as well as mine.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The part between brackets was omitted by Miss Mohun in the public reading,
+      but the last sentence she did read, thinking it good for both parties to
+      hear it. However, Dolores both disliked the conclusion to which her father
+      had come, and still more that her aunt and cousins should hear it, though,
+      after all, it was only Gillian and Mysie who remained to listen by the
+      time the end of the letter was reached. The long words had frightened away
+      Valetta as soon as her appointed task of work was finished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Lily did not see the omitted sentence till the two sisters were alone
+      together later in the afternoon. It filled her eyes with tears. &lsquo;Poor
+      Maurice,&rsquo; she said; &lsquo;he wrote something of the same kind to me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I expect we shall see him wonderfully shaken up and brightened when he
+      comes home. The numbness he talks of was half of it Mary&rsquo;s dislike to us
+      all, only I never would let her keep me aloof from him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I almost wish he had taken Dolores out to Phyllis. I am not in the least
+      fulfilling his ideal towards her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nor would Phyllis, unless the voyage had had as much effect on her as it
+      seems to have had upon Maurice. So you don&rsquo;t get on any better?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not a bit. It is a case of parallel lines. We don&rsquo;t often have collisions&mdash;unless
+      Wilfred gets an opportunity of provoking her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why don&rsquo;t you send that boy to school?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I shall after Christmas. He is quite well now, and to have him at home is
+      bad both for himself and the others. He needs licking into shape as only
+      boys can do to one another, and he is not a model for Fergus, especially
+      since Harry has been away.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What does he do?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nothing very brilliant, nor of the kind one half forgives for the
+      drollery of it. Putting mustard into the custard was the worst, I think;
+      inciting the dogs to bring the cattle down on the girls when they cross
+      the paddock; shutting up their books when the places are found&mdash;those
+      are the sort of things; putting that very life-like wild cat chauffe-pied
+      with glaring eyes in Dolly&rsquo;s bed. I believe he does such things to all,
+      but his sisters would let him torture them rather than complain, whereas
+      Dolores does her best to bring them under my notice without actually
+      laying an information, which she is evidently afraid to do. It is very
+      unlucky that her coming should have been just when we had such an element
+      about&mdash;for it really gives her some just cause of complaint.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But you say he is impartial?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Teasing is unfortunately his delight. He will even frighten Primrose, but
+      I am afraid there is active dislike making Dolores his favourite victim;
+      and then Val and Fergus, who don&rsquo;t tease actively on their own account,
+      have come to enjoy her discomfiture.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you go on the principle of &lsquo;tolerer beaucoup?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I do; hoping that it is not laziness and weakness that makes me abstain
+      from nagging about what is not brought before my eyes by the children or
+      the police&mdash;I mean Gill, Halfpenny, and Miss Vincent. Then I scold,
+      or I punish, and that I think maintains the principle, without danger to
+      truth or forbearance. At least, I hope it does. I am pretty sure that if I
+      punished Wilfred for every teasing trick I know, or guess at, he would&mdash;in
+      his present mood&mdash;only become deceitful, and esprit de corps might
+      make Val and Fergus the same, though I don&rsquo;t think Mysie&rsquo;s truth could be
+      shaken any more than honest Phyl&rsquo;s.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Besides, mutual discipline is not a thing to upset. Lily, I revere you! I
+      never thought you were going to turn out such a sensible mother.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, you see, the difficulty is, that what may work for one&rsquo;s own
+      children may not work for other people&rsquo;s. And I confess I don&rsquo;t understand
+      her persistent repulse of Mysie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nor of you, the nasty little cat!&rsquo; said Aunt Jane, with a little fierce
+      shake of the head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I do understand that a little. I am too unlike Mary for her to stand
+      being mothered by me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There must be some other influence at work for this perverseness to keep
+      on so long. Tell me, did she take up with that very goosey girl, that Miss
+      Hacket?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes; she goes there every Sunday afternoon. It is the only thing the
+      poor child seem much to care about, and I don&rsquo;t think there can be any
+      harm in it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Humph! the folly of girl is unfathomable! Oh! you may say what you like&mdash;you
+      who have thrown yourself into your daughters and kept them one with you.
+      You little know in your innocence the product of an ill-managed
+      boarding-school!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nay,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, a little hotly, &lsquo;I do know that Miss Hacket
+      is one of the most excellent people in the world, a little tiresome and
+      borne, perhaps, but thoroughly good, and every inch a lady.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Granted, but that&rsquo;s not the other one&mdash;Constance is her name? My
+      dear, I saw her goings on at the G.F.S. affair&mdash;If she had only been
+      a member, wouldn&rsquo;t I have been at her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear Jenny, you always had more eyes to your share than other people.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And you think that being an old maid has not lessened their sharpness,
+      eh! Lily? Well, I can&rsquo;t help it, but my notion is that the sweet Constance&mdash;whatever
+      her sister may be&mdash;is the boarding-school miss a little further
+      developed into sentiment and flirtation.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nay, but that would be so utterly uncongenial to a grave, reserved,
+      intellectual girl, brought up as Dolores has been.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t trust to that! Dolores is an interesting orphan, and the notice of
+      a grown-up young lady is so flattering that it carries off a great deal of
+      folly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, Jenny, I must think about it. I hope I have done no harm by
+      allowing the friendship&mdash;the only indulgence she has seemed to wish
+      for; and I am afraid checking it would only alienate he still more! Poor
+      Maurice, when he is trusting and hoping in vain!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Three year is a long time, Lily; and you have no had three months of her
+      yet&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened at that moment for the afternoon tea, which was earlier
+      than usual, to follow of Miss Mohun&rsquo;s reaching the station in time for her
+      train. Lady Merrifield was to drive her, and it was the turn of Dolores to
+      go out, so that she shared the refection instead of waiting for gouter. In
+      the midst the Miss Hackets were announced, and there were exclamations of
+      great joy at the sight of Miss Mohun; as she and Miss Hacket flew upon
+      each other, and to the very last moment, discussed the all-engrossing
+      subject of G.F.S. politics.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, while Miss Mohun was hurrying on her sealskin in her
+      sister&rsquo;s room, she found an opportunity of saying, &lsquo;Take care, Lily, I saw
+      a note pass between those two.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear Jenny, how could you? You were going on the whole time about
+      cards and premiums and associates. Oh! yes, I know a peacock or a lynx is
+      nothing to you, but how was it possible? Why, I was making talk to
+      Constance all along, and trying to make Dolly speak of her father&rsquo;s
+      letter.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I might retort by talking of moles and bats! Did you never hear of the
+      London clergyman whose silver cream-jug, full of cream too, was abstracted
+      by the penitent Sunday school boy whom he was exhorting over his
+      breakfast-table?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t believe London curates have silver jugs or cream either!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A relic of past wealth, like St. Gregory&rsquo;s one silver dish, and perhaps
+      it was milk. Well, to descend to particulars. It was done with a meaning
+      glance, as Dolores was helping her on with her cloud, and was instantly
+      disposed of in the pocket.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wonder what I ought to do about it,&rsquo; sighed Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;If I had
+      seen it myself I should have no doubts. Oh! if Jasper were but here! And
+      yet it is hardly a thing to worry him about. It is most likely to be quite
+      innocent.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, then you can speak of the appearance of secrecy as bad manners. You
+      will have her all to yourself as you go home.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But when the aunts came downstairs, Dolores was not there. On being
+      called, she sent a voice down, over the balusters, that she was not going.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jane shrugged her shoulders. There was barely time to reach the
+      train, so that it was impossible to do anything at the moment; but in the
+      Merrifield family bad manners and disrespect were never passed over, Sir
+      Jasper having made his wife very particular in that respect; and as soon
+      as she came home in the twilight, she looked into the school-room, but
+      Dolores was not there, and then into the drawing-room, where she was found
+      learning her lessons by firelight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, why did you not go with your Aunt Jane and me?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I did not want to go. It was so cold,&rsquo; said Dolores in a glum tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Would it not have been kinder to have found that out sooner? If I had not
+      met the others in the paddock, and picked up Valetta, the chance would
+      have been missed, and you knew she wanted to go.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores knew it well enough. The reason she was in this room was that all
+      the returning party had fallen upon her; Wilfred had called her a dog in
+      the manger, and Gillian herself had not gainsayed him&mdash;but the
+      general indignation had only made her feel, &lsquo;what a fuss about the
+      darling.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Another time, too,&rsquo; added Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;remember that it would be
+      proper to come down and speak to me instead of shouting over the balusters
+      in that unmannerly way; without so much as taking leave of your Aunt Jane.
+      If she had not been almost late for her train, I should have insisted.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You might, and I should not have come if you had dragged me,&rsquo; thought,
+      but did not say, Dolores. She only stood looking dogged, and not
+      attempting the &lsquo;I beg your pardon,&rsquo; for which her aunt was waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, gently, &lsquo;that when you consider it a
+      little, you will see that it would be well to be more considerate and
+      gracious. And one thing more, my dear, I can have no passing of private
+      notes between you and Constance Hacket. You see a good deal of each other
+      openly, and such doings are very silly and missish, and have an underhand
+      appearance such as I am sure your father would not like.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores burst out with, &lsquo;I didn&rsquo;t,&rsquo; and as Primrose at this instant ran in
+      to help mamma take off her things, she turned on her heel and went away,
+      leaving Lady Merrifield trusting to a word never hitherto in that house
+      proved to be false, rather than to those glances of Aunt Jane, which had
+      been always held in the Mohun family to be a little too discerning and
+      ubiquitous to be always relied on; and it was a satisfactory recollection
+      that at the farewell moment when Miss Jane professed to have observed the
+      transaction, she had been heard saying, &lsquo;Yes, it will never do to be too
+      slack in inquiring into antecedents, or the whole character of the society
+      will be given up,&rsquo; and with her black eyes fixed full upon Miss Hacket&rsquo;s
+      face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. &mdash; THE EVENING STAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Connie dear, I had such a fright! Do you know you must never venture
+      to give me anything when any one is there&mdash;especially Aunt Jane. I am
+      sure it was her, she is always spying about?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, but dearest Dolly, I couldn&rsquo;t tell that she would be there, and
+      when I got your letter I could not keep it back, you know, so I made Mary
+      come up and call on Lady Merrifield for the chance of being able to give
+      it to you&mdash;and I thought it was so lucky Miss Mohun was there, for
+      she and Mary were quite swallowed up in their dear G.F.S.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t know Aunt Jane! And the worst of it is she always makes Aunt
+      Lilias twice as cross! I did get into such a row only because I didn&rsquo;t
+      want to go driving with the two old aunts in the dark and cold, and be
+      scolded all the way there and back.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When you had a letter to read too!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And then Aunt Lily said all manner of cross things about giving notes
+      between us. I was so glad I could say I didn&rsquo;t, for you know I didn&rsquo;t give
+      it to you, and it wasn&rsquo;t between us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You cunning child!&rsquo; laughed Constance, rather amused at the sophistry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Besides,&rsquo; argued Dolores, &lsquo;what right has she to interfere between my
+      uncle and my friends and me?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You dear! Yes, it is all jealousy!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I have heard&mdash;or I have read,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;that when people ask
+      questions they have no right to put, it is quite fair to give them a
+      denial, or at least to go as near the wind as one can.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To be sure,&rsquo; assented Constance, &lsquo;or one would not get on at all! But you
+      have no told me a word about your letters.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Father&rsquo;s letter? Oh, he tells me a great deal about his voyage, and all
+      the funny creatures they get up with the dredge. I think he will be sure
+      to write a book about them, and make great discoveries. And now he is
+      staying with Aunt Phyllis in New Zealand, and he is thinking, poor father,
+      how well off I must be with Aunt Lilias. He little knows!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, but you could write to him, dearest!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He wouldn&rsquo;t get the letter for so long. Besides, I don&rsquo;t think I could
+      say anything he would care about. Gentlemen don&rsquo;t, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No! gentlemen can&rsquo;t enter into our feelings, or know what it is to be
+      rubbed against and never appreciated. But your uncle! Was the letter from
+      him?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes! And where do you think he is? At Darminster&mdash;editing a paper
+      there. It is called the Darminster Politician. He said he sent a copy
+      here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes, I know; Mary and I could not think where it came from. It had a
+      piece of a story in it, and some poetry. I wonder if he would put in my
+      &lsquo;Evening Star.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You may read his letter if you like; you see he says he would run over to
+      see me if it were not for the dragons.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wish he could come and meet you here. It would be so romantic, but you
+      see Mary is half a dragon herself, and would be afraid of Lady Merrifield&rsquo;&mdash;then,
+      reading the letter,&mdash;&lsquo;How droll! How clever! What a delightful man he
+      must be! How very strange that all your family should be so prejudiced
+      against him! I&rsquo;ll tell you what, Dolores, I will write and subscribe for
+      the Darminster Politician my own self&mdash;I must see the rest of that
+      story&mdash;and then Mary can&rsquo;t make any objection; I can&rsquo;t stand never
+      seeing anything but Church Bells, and then you can read it too, darling.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, thank you, Connie. Then I shall have got him one subscriber, as he
+      asks me to do. I am afraid I shan&rsquo;t get any more, for I thought Aunt Lily
+      was in a good humour yesterday, and I put one of the little advertisement
+      papers he sent out on the table, and she found it, and only said something
+      about wondering who had sent the advertisement of that paper that Mr.
+      Leadbitter didn&rsquo;t approve of. She is so dreadfully fussy and particular.
+      She won&rsquo;t let even Gillian read anything she hasn&rsquo;t looked over, and she
+      doesn&rsquo;t like anything that isn&rsquo;t goody goody.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My poor darling! But couldn&rsquo;t you write and get your uncle to look at
+      some of my poor little verses that have never seen the light?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I dare say I could,&rsquo; said Dolores, pleased to be able to patronize. &lsquo;Oh,
+      but you must not write on both sides of the paper, I know, for father and
+      mother were always writing for the press.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, I&rsquo;ll copy them out fresh! Here&rsquo;s the &lsquo;Evening Star.&rsquo; It was suggested
+      by the sound of the guns firing at the autumn manoevres; here&rsquo;s the
+      &lsquo;Bereaved Mother&rsquo;s Address to her Infant:&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                &lsquo;Sweet little bud of stainless white,
+                 Thou&rsquo;lt blossom in the garden of light.&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mary thought that so sweet she asked Miss Mohun to send it to Friendly
+      Leaves, but she wouldn&rsquo;t&mdash;Miss Mohun I mean; she said she didn&rsquo;t
+      think they would accept it, and that the lines didn&rsquo;t scan. Now I&rsquo;m sure
+      its only Latin and Greek that scan! English rhymes, and doesn&rsquo;t scan!
+      That&rsquo;s the difference!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To be sure!&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;but Aunt Jane always does look out for what
+      nobody else cares about. Still I wouldn&rsquo;t send the baby-verses to Uncle
+      Alfred, for they do sound a little bit goody, and the &lsquo;Evening Star&rsquo; would
+      be better.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The verses were turned over and discussed until the summons came to tea,
+      poured out by kind old Miss Hacket, who had delighted in providing her
+      young guests with buttered toast and tea cakes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores went home quite exhilarated and unusually amiable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her letter to her father was finished the next day. It contained the
+      following information.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncle Alfred is at Darminster. He is sub-editor to the Politician, the
+      Liberal county paper. I do not suppose Aunt Lilias will let me see him,
+      for she does not like anything that dear mother did. There is a childish
+      obsolete tone of mind here; I suppose it is because they have never lived
+      in London, and the children are all so young of their age, and so rude,
+      Wilfred most especially. Even Gillian, who is sixteen, likes quite
+      childish games, and Mysie, who is my age, is a mere child in tastes, and
+      no companion. I do wish I could have gone with you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield wrote by the same mail, &lsquo;Your Dolores is quite well, and
+      shows herself both clever and well taught. Miss Vincent thinks highly of
+      her abilities, and gets on with her better than any one else, except the
+      daughter of our late Vicar, for whom she has set up a strong girlish
+      friendship. She plainly has very deep affections, which are not readily
+      transferred to new claimants, but I feel sure that we shall get on in
+      time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Mohun wrote, &lsquo;Lily and I enjoyed your letter together. Dolly looks
+      all the better for country life, though I am afraid she has not learnt to
+      relish it, nor to assimilate with the Merrifield children as I expected. I
+      don&rsquo;t think Lily has quite fathomed her as yet, but &lsquo;cela viendra&rsquo; with
+      patience, only mayhap not without a previous explosion. I fancy it takes a
+      long time for an only child to settle in among a large family. It was a
+      great pity you could not see Lily yourself. To my dismay I encountered
+      Flinders in the street at Darminster last week. I believe he is on the
+      staff of a paper there, happily Dolly does not know it, nor do I think he
+      knows where she is.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In another three weeks, Constance was in the utmost elation, for &lsquo;On
+      hearing the cannonade of the Autumn Manoeuvres&rsquo; was in print, and Miss
+      Hacket was so much delighted that justice should be done to her sister&rsquo;s
+      abilities, that she forgot Mr. Leadbitter&rsquo;s disapproval, and ordered half
+      a dozen copies of the Politician for the present, and one for the future.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores, walking home in the twilight, could not help showing Gillian, in
+      confidence, the precious slip, though it was almost too dark to read the
+      small type.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Newspaper poetry, I thought that always was trumpery,&rsquo; said Gillian,
+      making a youthfully sweeping assertion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Many great poets have begun with a periodical press,&rsquo; said Dolores,
+      picking up a sentence which she had somewhere read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought you hated English poetry, Dolly! You always grumble at having
+      to learn it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, that is lessons.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Il Penseroso,&rsquo; for instance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This is a very different thing.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That it certainly is,&rsquo; said Gillian, beginning to read&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+              &lsquo;How lovely mounts the evening star
+               Climbing the sunset skies afar.&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What a wonderful evening! Why, the evening star was going up backward!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You only want to make nonsense of it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is not I that make nonsense!&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;why, don&rsquo;t you see,
+      Dolly, which way the sun and everything moves?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This is the evening star,&rsquo; said Dolores, sulkily. &lsquo;It was just rising.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I do believe you think it rises in the west.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You always see it there. You showed it to me only last Sunday.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you think it had just risen?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course the stars rise when the sun sets.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian could hardly move for laughing. &lsquo;My dear Dolores, you to be
+      daughter to a scientific man! Don&rsquo;t you know that the stars are in the
+      sky, going on all the time, only we can&rsquo;t see them till the sunlight is
+      gone?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Dolores was too much offended to attend, and only grunted. She wanted
+      to get the cutting away from Gillian, but there was no doing so.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+              &lsquo;The mist is rising o&rsquo;er the mead,
+               With silver hiding grass and reed;
+               &lsquo;Tis silent all, on hill and heath,
+               The evening winds, they hardly breathe;
+               What sudden breaks the silent charm,
+               The echo wakes with wild alarm.
+               With rapid, loud, and furious rattle,
+               Sure &lsquo;tis the voice of deadly battle,
+               Bidding the rustic swain to fly
+               Before his country&rsquo;s enemy.&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did anybody ever hear of a sham fight in the evening?&rsquo; cried the
+      soldier&rsquo;s daughter indignantly. &lsquo;There, I can&rsquo;t see any more of it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Give it to me, then.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are welcome! Where did it come from? Let me look. C.H. Oh, did
+      Constance Hacket write it? Nobody else could be so delicious, or so far
+      superior to Milton.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You knew it all the time, and that was the reason you made game of it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, indeed it was not, Dolores. I did not guess. You should have told me
+      at first.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You would have gone on about it all the same.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, indeed, I hope not. I did not mean to vex you; but how was I to know
+      it was so near your heart?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I ought to have known better than to have shown it to you! You are always
+      laughing at her and me all over the house&mdash;and now&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Come, Dolly. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I will promise not to
+      tell the others about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No answer. There was something hard and swelling in Dolores&rsquo;s throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Won&rsquo;t that do?&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;You know I can&rsquo;t say that I admire it, but
+      I&rsquo;m sorry I hurt you, and I&rsquo;ll take care the others don&rsquo;t tease you about
+      it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores made hardly any answer, but it was a sort of pacification, and
+      Gillian said not a word to the younger ones. Still she thought it no
+      breach of her promise, when they were all gone to bed, and she the sole
+      survivor, to tell her mother how inadvertently she had affronted Dolores
+      by cutting up the verses, before she knew whose they were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sorry,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;Anything that tends to keep Dolores
+      aloof from us is a pity.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But, mama, I had no notion whose they were.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You saw that she was pleased with them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but that was the more ridiculous. Fancy the evening star climbing up&mdash;up&mdash;you
+      know in the sunset!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Portentous, certainly! Yet still I wish you could have found it in your
+      heart to take advantage of any feeler towards sympathy.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How could I pretend to admire such stuff?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You need not pretend; but there are two ways of taking hold of a thing
+      without being untrue. If you had been a little wiser and more forbearing
+      you need not have given Dolores such a shock as would drive her in upon
+      herself. Depend upon it, the older you grow, the more dangerous you will
+      find it to begin by hitting the blots.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian looked on in some curiosity when the next day good Miss Hacket,
+      enchanted with her dear Connie&rsquo;s success, trotted up to display the lines
+      to Lady Merrifield, who on her side felt bound to set an example alike of
+      tenderness and sincerity, and was glad to be able to observe, &lsquo;The lines
+      run very smoothly. This must be a great pleasure to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed it is! Connie is so clever. I always say I can&rsquo;t think where she
+      got it from; but we always tried to give her very advantage, and she was
+      quite a favourite pupil at Miss Dormer&rsquo;s. Is not it a sweet idea, the
+      stillness of the evening broken by the sounds of battle, and then it
+      proving to be only our brave defenders?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; was the answer. &lsquo;I have often thought of that, and of what it might
+      be to hear those volleys of musketry in earnest. It has made me very
+      thankful.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Miss Hacket went away gratified, and Gillian owned that it would have
+      been useless to wound the good lady&rsquo;s feelings by criticism, though her
+      mother made her understand that if her opinion had been asked, or Connie
+      herself had shown the verses, it would have been desirable to point out
+      the faults, in a kindly spirit. The wonder was, how they could have found
+      their way into the paper, and they were followed by more with the like
+      signature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed, the great sensational tale, &lsquo;The Waif of the Moorland,&rsquo; was being
+      copied out of the books where it had been first written. Dolores had
+      sounded Mr. Flinders on the subject, and he had replied that he could
+      ensure its consideration by a publisher, but that her fair friend must be
+      aware that an untried author must be prepared for some risk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance could hardly abstain from communicating her hopes to her sister;
+      but Mr. Leadbitter&mdash;to whom the poetry was duly shown&mdash;had given
+      such a character of the Darminster Politician that Miss Hacket besought
+      Constance to have no more to do with it. Besides, she was so entirely a
+      lady, and so conscientious, that all her tender blindness would not have
+      prevented her from being shocked at encouraging, or profiting by, a
+      surreptitious correspondence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance declared that Mr. Leadbitter&rsquo;s objection to the paper was merely
+      political, and her sister was too willing that she should be gratified to
+      protest any further. The copying had to be done in secret, since it was
+      impossible to confess the hopes founded on Mr. Flinders, and it therefore
+      lasted several weeks, each fresh portion being communicated to Dolores on
+      Sunday afternoons. There were at first a few scruples on Constance&rsquo;s part
+      whether this were exactly a Sunday occupation; but Dolores pronounced that
+      &lsquo;the Sabbatarian system was gone out,&rsquo; and after Constance had introduced
+      the ghostly double of her vanished waif walking in a surpliced procession,
+      she persuaded herself that there was a sufficient aroma of religion about
+      the story to bring it within the pale of Sunday books.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The days were shortening so that Lady Merrifield had doubts as to the
+      fitness of letting the girls return in the dark, but Gillian would have
+      been grieved to relinquish her class, and the matter was adjusted by the
+      two remaining till evensong, when there was sure to be sufficient escort
+      for them to come home with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Therewith arrived the holidays and Jasper, whose age came between those of
+      Gillian and Mysie. Dolores had looked forward to his coming, for, by all
+      the laws of fiction, he was bound to be the champion of the orphan niece,
+      and finally to develop into her lover and hero. In &lsquo;No Home,&rsquo; when Clare&rsquo;s
+      aunt locked her up and fed her on bread and water for playing the piano
+      better than her spiteful cousin Augusta, Eric, the boy of the family, had
+      solaced her with cold pie and ice-creams drawn up in a basket by a cord
+      from the window. He had likewise forced from his cruel mother the locket
+      which proved Clare&rsquo;s identity with the mourning countess&rsquo;s golden-haired
+      grandchild and heiress, and he had finally been rewarded with her hand,
+      becoming in some mysterious manner Lord Eric.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jasper, however, or Japs, as his family preferred to call him, proved to
+      be a big, shy boy, not at all delighted with the introduction of a
+      stranger among his sisters, neither golden-haired nor all-accomplished,
+      only making him feel his home invaded, and looking at him with her great
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is that girl here for good?&rsquo; he asked, when he found himself with Harry
+      and Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, of course,&rsquo; said the cousin, &lsquo;while her father is away, and that is
+      for three years.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jasper whistled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aunt Ada said,&rsquo; added Gillian, &lsquo;that if she got too tiresome, mamma had
+      Uncle Maurice&rsquo;s leave to send her to school.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That would be no good to me,&rsquo; said Jasper, &lsquo;for she would still be here
+      in the holidays.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Has she been getting worse?&rsquo; asked Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I don&rsquo;t know that she has,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;except that she runs after
+      that Constance more than ever. But, I say, Jasper, mamma says she is
+      particularly anxious that there should be no teasing of her; and you can
+      hinder Wilfred better than anybody can. She wants her to be really at
+      home, and one&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But though Jasper was very fond both of mother and sister, he would not
+      stand a second-hand lecture, and broke in with an inquiry about chances of
+      rabbit-shooting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Among his juniors he heard more opinions and more undisguised, when the
+      whole party had rushed out together to the stable-yard to inspect the
+      rabbits and other live-stock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And Dolly says you are a fright,&rsquo; sighed Mysie, condoling with a very
+      awkward-looking puppy which she was nursing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She! she thinks everything a fright!&rsquo; said Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Except Constance,&rsquo; added Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Who is ugliest of all!&rsquo; politely chimed in Fergus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Japs, she is such a nasty girl&mdash;Dolly, I mean!&rsquo; cried Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know you ought not to say &lsquo;nasty,&rsquo;&rdquo; exclaimed Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, but she is!&rsquo; insisted Val. &lsquo;She squashed a dear little ladybird,
+      and said it would sting!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She really thought it would,&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At which the young barbarians shouted aloud with contempt, and Valetta
+      added. &lsquo;She is afraid of everything&mdash;cows and dogs and frogs.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I got a whole match-box full of grasshoppers to shut up in her desk and
+      make her squall,&rsquo; said Wilfred, &lsquo;only the girls went and turned them out.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was so cruel to the poor grasshoppers,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;One had his horn
+      broken, and dragged his leg.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What does she do?&rsquo; asked Jasper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She&rsquo;s always cross,&rsquo; said Fergus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And she won&rsquo;t play,&rsquo; added Valetta. &lsquo;And never will lend us anything of
+      hers.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And she&rsquo;s a regular sneak,&rsquo; said Wilfred. &lsquo;She wants to tell of
+      everything&mdash;only we stopped that and she doesn&rsquo;t dare now.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You see,&rsquo; said Mysie, gravely, &lsquo;she has always lived alone and in London,
+      and that makes her horribly stupid about everything sensible. We thought
+      we should soon teach her to be nice; and mamma says we shall if we are
+      patient.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We&rsquo;ll teach her, won&rsquo;t we, Japs!&rsquo; said Wilfred, aside, in an ominous
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She is only thirteen,&rsquo; added Valetta, &lsquo;and she pretends to be grown up,
+      and only to care for a grown-up young lady&mdash;that Constance Hacket.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; added Mysie, &lsquo;only think&mdash;they write poetry!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What rot it must be!&rsquo; said Jasper. &lsquo;There&rsquo;s a man in my house that writes
+      poetry, and don&rsquo;t they chaff him! And this must be ever so much worse.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, that it is,&rsquo; said Valetta. &lsquo;I heard Mr. Poulter and Miss Vincent
+      laughing about it like anything.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But they get it put into print,&rsquo; said Mysie, still impressed. &lsquo;Miss
+      Hacket brought it up to give to mamma, and there&rsquo;s ever so much of it shut
+      up in the drawing-room blotting-book with the malachite knobs. I can&rsquo;t
+      think why they laugh&mdash;I think it is very pretty. Old Miss Hacket read
+      me the one about &ldquo;My Lost Dove.&rdquo;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mysie always will stick up for Dolores,&rsquo; said Valetta in a grumbling
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I always meant her to be my friend,&rsquo; said Mysie, disconsolately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, I&rsquo;m glad she&rsquo;s not,&rsquo; said Jasper. &lsquo;What a sell it would have been
+      for me to find you chummy with a stupid, poetry-writing, good-for-nothing
+      girl like that, instead of my jolly old Mice!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And at that minute all Dolly&rsquo;s slights were fully compensated for!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a lurking purpose in the boys&rsquo; minds that if Dolores would not
+      join in fun, yet still fun should be extracted from her. Jasper had
+      brought home a box of Japanese fireworks, and Wilfred, who was
+      superintending his unpacking, proposed to light the serpent and place it
+      in Dolores&rsquo;s path as she was going up to bed; but Jasper was old enough to
+      reply that he would have no concern with anything so low and snobbish as
+      such a trick. In fact, there was in Jasper&rsquo;s mind a decided line between
+      bullying and teasing, which did not exist as yet in Wilfred&rsquo;s conscience.
+      And, altogether, Dolores was in a state of mind that made her stiff
+      letters to her father betray low spirits and discontent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On Sunday, while waiting for the early dinner, Jasper and Mysie happened
+      to be together in the drawing-room, and Mysie took the opportunity of
+      showing her brother the different cuttings of poetry. The lines were
+      smooth, and some had a certain swing in them such as Mysie, with an
+      unformed taste, a love for Miss Hacket, and amazement that the words of a
+      familiar acquaintance of her own should appear in print, genuinely
+      admired. But the eyes of a youth exercised in &lsquo;chaffing&rsquo; the productions
+      of one of his fellow &lsquo;men&rsquo; were infinitely more critical. Besides, what
+      could be more shocking to the General&rsquo;s son than the confusion between the
+      evening gun and the sham fight? And Mysie had been reduced to confusion
+      for not detecting the faults, and then pardoned in consideration of being
+      only a girl, by the time the gong summoned them to the Sunday roast beef.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dinner over, the female part of the family, scampered headlong
+      upstairs, while Harry repaired with his mother to her room to talk over a
+      letter from his father respecting his plans on leaving Oxford. The other
+      boys hung about the hall, until Gillian and Dolores came down equipped for
+      walking. &lsquo;Hollo, Gill! All right! Where&rsquo;s Mysie? We&rsquo;ll be off! Mysie!
+      Mice! Mouse! Val!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You must wait for them, Japs,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;They are having their
+      dresses changed; and, don&rsquo;t you remember, I always go to Miss Hacket&rsquo;s.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Botheration! What for?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You know very well.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes. To help her to write touching verses about the sweet dead dove,
+      with voice and plumage soft as love, eh? Only, Gill, I&rsquo;m afraid your
+      memory is failing, if you don&rsquo;t know the evening gun from rifle practice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nonsense! that&rsquo;s no concern of mine,&rsquo; said Gillian, opening the front
+      door, very anxious to get Dolores away from hearing anything worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s your modesty. Only such a conjunction could have produced such
+      a scene that the evening star came up backwards to look at it!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For shame, Jasper! How in the world did you get hold of that?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Too sweet a thing not to meet with universal fame,&rsquo; said Jasper, to whom
+      it was exquisite fun to assume that Gillian devoted her Sunday afternoons
+      to the concoction of such poetry with Constance Hacket, and thus to
+      revenge himself for his disgust and jealousy at having his favourite
+      companion and slave engrossed. Wilfred hopped about like an imp in
+      ecstasy, grinning in the face of Dolores, whom Gillian longed to free from
+      her tormentors. The shout was welcome, as Mysie and Valetta came tearing
+      down the drive after them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Japs! Japs! Oh, we couldn&rsquo;t come before because nurse would make us take
+      off our Sunday serges. Come and let out the dogs. Mamma says we may see if
+      there are any nice fir cones in the plantation to gild for the
+      Christmas-tree.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And you won&rsquo;t come?&rsquo; said Jasper. &lsquo;The Muses must meet. What a poem you
+      will produce!
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                &lsquo;Hear I a cannon or a rifle,
+                 That is an unessential trifle!&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What nonsense boys do talk!&rsquo; said Gillian, turning her back on them with
+      regret; for much as she loved her class, she better loved a walk with
+      Jasper, and here was Dolores on her hands in a state of exasperation,
+      believing her to have broken her promise, and muttering,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You set him on.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, indeed I never did! You know I promised.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There are plenty of ways of getting out of a promise.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Speak for yourself, Dolores.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were ten minutes of offended silence, and then Gillian said, &lsquo;This
+      is nonsense! You may believe me, I was sorry I laughed at the first verses
+      you showed me, and mamma said I ought not. We never spoke of it, but Miss
+      Hacket has been giving mamma all the poems, and Jasper must have got at
+      them. Don&rsquo;t you see?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, you say so,&rsquo; said Dolores, sulkily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t believe me!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You promised that your brothers should never hear of it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I promised for myself. I couldn&rsquo;t promise for what was put into a
+      newspaper and trumpeted all over the place,&rsquo; said Gillian, really angry
+      now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores could not deny this, but she was hurt by the word trumpeted; and
+      besides, her own slippery behaviour was weakening her trust in other
+      people&rsquo;s sincerity, and she only gave a kind of grunt; but Gillian,
+      recovering herself a little, and remembering her mother&rsquo;s words, proceeded
+      to argue. &lsquo;Besides, it was me whom Jasper meant to tease, not you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care which it was. He is as bad as the rest of them!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian attempted no more conciliation, and they arrived in silence at the
+      Casement Cottages, where Constance was awaiting her friend in the greatest
+      excitement; for she had despatched &lsquo;The Waif of the Moorland&rsquo; to Mr.
+      Flinders in the course of the week, and had received a letter from him in
+      return, saying that a personal interview with the gifted authoress would
+      be desirable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I do long to see him; don&rsquo;t you, darling?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is very hard that he should be kept away from me,&rsquo; said Dolores,
+      trying to stir up some tender feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That it is, my poor sweet! I thought whether he could come to me for a
+      merely literary consultation without Mary&rsquo;s knowing anything further about
+      it, and then we could contrive for you to come down and meet him; but
+      there are so many horrid prejudices that I suppose it would not be safe.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t see how I could come down here without the others. Aunt Lily
+      won&rsquo;t let me come alone, and though it is holiday time, that is no good,
+      for those horrid boys are always about, and I see that Jasper is going to
+      be worse even than Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Various ways and means were discussed, but no excuse seemed available for
+      either Constance&rsquo;s going to Darminster, or for Mr. Flinders coming to
+      Silverton, without exciting suspicion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. &mdash; SECRET EXPEDITION
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The Christmas-tree! Oh, mamma, do let it be the Christmas-tree. It is
+      quite well. We&rsquo;ve been to look at it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Rot!&rsquo; put in Jasper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, please, please, mamma,&rsquo; implored Valetta, &lsquo;please let it be the dear
+      old Christmas-tree! You said I should choose because it will be my
+      birthday.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There is no need to whine, Val; you shall have your tree.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m so glad!&rsquo; cried Mysie. &lsquo;The dear old tree is best of all. I could
+      never get tired of it if I lived to be a hundred years old.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Such are institutions,&rsquo; said their mother. &lsquo;I never heard of a
+      Christmas-tree till I was twice your age.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, mamma! How dreadful! What did you do?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I suppose it is all very well for you kids,&rsquo; said Jasper, loftily,
+      putting his hands in his pockets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps something may be found interesting eve: to the high and mighty
+      elders,&rsquo; observed Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! What, mamma?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mamma, of course, only looked mysterious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And,&rsquo; added Val, &lsquo;mayn&rsquo;t we all go on a secret expedition and buy things
+      for it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We&rsquo;ve all been saving up,&rsquo; added Mysie; &lsquo;and everybody knows every single
+      thing in all the shop at Silverton.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Besides,&rsquo; added Gillian, &lsquo;the sconces will none of them hold, and almost
+      all the golden globes got smashed in coming from Dublin, and one of the
+      birds has its head off, and another has lost its spun-glass tail, and
+      another its legs.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A bird of Paradise,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, laughing; &lsquo;but wasn&rsquo;t there a
+      tree at Malta decked with no apparatus at all?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but Alley and Phyl can do anything!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think we must ask Aunt Jane&mdash;-&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a howl. &lsquo;Oh, please, mamma, don&rsquo;t let Aunt Jane get all the
+      things! We do so want to choose.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You impatient monsters! You haven&rsquo;t heard me out, and you don&rsquo;t deserve
+      it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, mamma, I beg your pardon!&rsquo; &lsquo;Oh, mamma, please!&rsquo; &lsquo;Oh, mamma, pray!&rsquo; 
+      cried the most impatient howlers, dancing round her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What I was about to observe, before the interruption by the honourable
+      members, was, that we might perhaps ask Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada to receive
+      at luncheon a party of caterers for this same tree.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! oh! oh!&rsquo; &lsquo;How delicious!&rsquo; &lsquo;Hooray!&rsquo; &lsquo;That&rsquo;s what I call jolly fun!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And, mamma,&rsquo; added Gillian, &lsquo;perhaps we might let Miss Hacket join. I
+      know she wants to get up something for a G.F.S. class; but mamma was
+      attending to Primrose, and the brothers burst in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There goes Gill, spoiling it all!&rsquo; exclaimed Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s always the way,&rsquo; said Jasper. &lsquo;Girls must puzzle everything up
+      with some philanthropic Great Fuss Society dodge.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sure, Jasper,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t see why it should spoil
+      anything to make other people happy. I thought we were told to make feasts
+      not only for our own friends&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Gill&rsquo;s getting just like old Miss Hacket,&rsquo; said Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Or sweet Constance,&rsquo; put in Jasper. &lsquo;She&rsquo;ll be writing poems next.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hush! hush! boys,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;I do not mean to interfere with
+      your pleasure, &lsquo;but I had rather our discussions were not entirely
+      selfish. Suppose, Gillian, we walked down to Casement Cottages, and
+      consulted Miss Hacket.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was done, in the company of all the little girls, for Miss Hacket&rsquo;s
+      cats, doves, and gingerbread were highly popular; moreover, Dolores was
+      glad of a chance sight of Constance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, as Gillian walked beside her, &lsquo;you must
+      be satisfied with giving Miss Hacket the reversion of our tree, and you
+      and Mysie can go and help her. It will not do to make these kind of works
+      a nuisance to your brothers.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I did not think Jasper would have been so selfish as to object,&rsquo; said
+      Gillian, almost tearfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Remember that boys have a very short time at home, and cannot be expected
+      to care for these things like those who work in them,&rsquo; said Lady
+      Merrifield. &lsquo;It will not make them do so, to bore them, and take away
+      their sense of home and liberty. At the same time, they must not expect to
+      have everything sacrificed to them, and so I shall make Jasper
+      understand.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You won&rsquo;t scold him, mamma?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t you, any of you, trust me, Gill?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! mamma! Only I didn&rsquo;t want him to think. I wouldn&rsquo;t do everything he
+      liked, except that I don&rsquo;t want him to be unkind about those poor girls.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hacket was perfectly enraptured at the offer of the reversion of the
+      Christmas-tree and its trapping. Valetta&rsquo;s birthday was on the 28th of
+      December and the tree was to be lighted on the ensuing evening for G.F.S.
+      Moreover, the party would go to Rockstone as soon as an appointment could
+      be made with Miss Mohun, to make selections at a great German fancy shop,
+      recently opened there, and in full glory; and the Hacket sisters were
+      invited to join the party, starting at a quarter to eight, and returning
+      at a few minutes after seven, the element of darkness at each end only
+      adding to the charm in the eyes of the children, and Valetta, with a
+      little leap, repeated that it would be a real secret expedition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very secret indeed,&rsquo; said her mother, &lsquo;considering how many it is known
+      to&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but it is, mamma, for everybody has a secret from everybody.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The words made Constance and Dolores look round with a start from their
+      colloquy under the shade of the window-curtains, but no one was thinking
+      of them. Just as the plans were settled, Constance came forward, saying,
+      &lsquo;Lady Merrifield, may I have dear Dolores to spend the day with me? We
+      neither of us wish to join your kind party to Rockstone, and we should so
+      enjoy being together.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I had much rather stay,&rsquo; added Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very well,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, reflecting that her sisters would be
+      grateful for the diminution of the party, and that it would be easier to
+      keep the peace without Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The defection was hailed with joy by her cousins, though they were struck
+      dumb at her extraordinary taste in not liking shopping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jasper did look rather small when his mother assured him in private he
+      might have trusted her to see that he was not to be incommoded with
+      Gillian&rsquo;s girls, and he only observed, in excuse for his murmurs, that it
+      made a man mad to see his sisters always off after some charity fad or
+      other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Always&rsquo; being a few hours once a week,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just when one wants her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Look here, my boy,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;you don&rsquo;t want your sisters to be selfish,
+      useless, fine ladies&mdash;never doing any one any good. If they take up
+      good works, they can&rsquo;t drop them entirely to wait on you. Gillian does
+      give up a great deal, and it would be kinder to forbear a little, and not
+      treat all she does as an injury to yourself.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I only meant to get a rise out of her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are quite welcome to do that, provided it is done in good nature.
+      Gill is quite sound stuff enough to be laughed at! But, I say, my Japs, I
+      should prefer your letting Dolores alone; she has not learned to be
+      laughed at yet, and has not come even to the stage for being taught to
+      bear it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She looks fit to turn the cream sour,&rsquo; observed Jasper. &lsquo;I say, mamma,
+      you don&rsquo;t want me to go on this shopping business, do you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not by any means, sir.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Happily, the chance of a day&rsquo;s rabbit shooting presented itself at a
+      warren some miles off, and Harry undertook the care of Wilfred, who gave
+      his word of honour to obey implicitly and take no liberties with the guns.
+      Fergus would gladly have gone with them, but he was still young enough to
+      be sensible of the attractions of toy-shops. Only Primrose had to be left
+      to the nursery, and there was no need to waste pity on her, for on such an
+      occasion Mrs. Halfpenny would relax her mood, and lay herself out to be
+      agreeable, when she had exhausted her forebodings about her leddyship
+      making herself ill for a week gaun rampaging about with all the bairns, as
+      if she was no better than one herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I shall let Miss Mohun do most of the rampaging, nurse; but, if it is
+      fine, will you take Miss Primrose into the town and let her choose her own
+      cards. I have given her a florin, and if you make the most of that for
+      her, she will be as happy as going with us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That I will, my leddy. Bairns is easy content when ye ken how to sort
+      &lsquo;em.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And, nurse, I believe there will be a box from Sir Jasper at the station.
+      It may come home in the waggonette that takes us. Will you and Macrae get
+      it safe into the store-room, for I don&rsquo;t want the children to see it too
+      soon?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was nothing but satisfaction in the house on the morning of the
+      expedition. The untimely candle-light breakfast was only a fresh element
+      of delight, and so was the paling gas at the station, the round, red sun
+      peeping out through a yellow break between grey sky and greyer woods; the
+      meeting Miss Hacket in her fur cloak, the taking of the tickets, the
+      coughing of the train, the tumbling into one of the many empty carriages,
+      the triumphant start,&mdash;all seemed as fresh and delicious as if the
+      young people had never taken a journey before in all their lives. The fog
+      in the valleys, the sleepy villages, the half-roused stations, all gave
+      rise to exclamations, and nothing was regretted but that the windows would
+      get clouded over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even the waiting at the junction had its charms, for it was enlivened by a
+      supplementary breakfast on rolls and milk! and at a few minutes past
+      eleven the train was drawing up at Rockstone, and Aunt Jane, sealskins and
+      all, was beckoning from the platform, hurrying after the carriage as it
+      swept past, and holding out a hand to jump the party from the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There she was, ready to take them to the most charming and cheapest shops,
+      where the coins burning in those five pockets would go the furthest. Go in
+      a cab? No, I thank you, it is far more delightful to walk. So mamma and
+      Miss Hacket were stowed away in the despised vehicle, to make the
+      purchases that nobody cared about, or which were to be unseen and unknown
+      till the great day; while Aunt Jane undertook to guide the young people
+      through the town, for her house was at the other end of it securing the
+      Christmas-cards on the way, if nothin&rsquo; else. For, though all the cards and
+      gifts to mamma, and a good many besides, were of domestic manufacture,
+      some had to be purchased, and she knew, this wonderful woman, where to get
+      cards of former seasons at reduced prices to suit their youthful finances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Considerable patience was requisite before all the choices were made, and
+      the balance cast between cards and presents, and Miss Mohun got her
+      quartette past all the shop windows, to the seaside villa, shut in by
+      tamarisks, which Aunt Adeline believed to be the only place that suited
+      her health. Mamma and Miss Hacket had already arrived, and filled the
+      little vestibule with parcels and boxes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the early dinner! The aunts had anticipated their Christmas turkey
+      for that goodly company to help them eat it, but afterwards there was only
+      time for a mince pie all round; for more than half the work remained to be
+      done by all except mamma, who would stay and rest with Aunt Ada, having
+      finished all that could not be deputed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, first she had a conference in private with Aunt Jane, who
+      undertook therein to come to Silverton for Valetta&rsquo;s birthday, and add
+      astonishment and mystery sufficient to satisfy such of the public as were
+      weary of Christmas-trees. She added, however, &lsquo;You will think I am always
+      at you. Lily, but did you know that Flinders is living at Darminster?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; but it is five and twenty miles off, and he has never troubled us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t be too secure. He is in connection with that low paper&mdash;the
+      Politician&mdash;which methinks, is the place where those remarkable poems
+      of Miss Constance&rsquo;s have appeared.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is it not the way of poetry of that calibre to see the light in county
+      papers?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This seems to me of a lower calibre than is likely to get in without
+      private interest.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But to my certain knowledge the child has neither written to, nor heard
+      of the man all this time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t know what goes on with her bosom friend.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am certain Miss Hacket would connive at nothing underhand. Besides, I
+      have never seen any thing sly or deceitful in poor Dolores. She will not
+      make friends with us, that is all, and that may be our fault.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I only say, look out, you unsuspicious dame!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now, Jenny, satisfy my curiosity as to how you know all this. I am sure I
+      never showed you those effusions. We have had trouble enough about them,
+      for the children cut them up in a way Dolores has never forgiven.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! Miss Hacket sent them to me, to ask if &lsquo;Mollsey to her Babe&rsquo; and &lsquo;The
+      Canary&rsquo; might not be passed on to Friendly Leaves. And as to Flinders,
+      when I went to the G.F.S. Conference at Darminster I met the man full in
+      the street, and, of course, I inquired afterwards how he came there. So
+      there&rsquo;s nothing preternatural about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is well you did not live two hundred years ago, or you would certainly
+      have been burnt for a witch.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;See what a witch I shall make on the 28th! But I hear those unfortunate
+      children dancing and prancing with impatience on the stairs. I must go,
+      before they have driven Ada distracted.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What would the two aunts have said, could they have seen Dolores and
+      Constance, at that moment partaking of the most elaborate meal the
+      Darminster refreshment-room could supply, at a little round marble table,
+      in company with Mr. Flinders! They had not been obliged to start nearly so
+      early as the other party, as the journey was much shorter, and with no
+      change of line, so they had quietly walked to the station by ten o&rsquo;clock,
+      arrived at Darminster at half-past eleven, and have been met by the
+      personage whom Dolores recognized as Uncle Alfred. Constance was a little
+      disappointed not to see something more distinguished, and less flashy in
+      style, but he was so polite and complimentary, and made such touching
+      allusions to his misfortunes and his dear sister, that she soon began to
+      think him exceedingly interesting, and pitied him greatly when he said he
+      could not take them to his lodgings&mdash;they were not fit for his niece
+      or her friend, who had done him a kindness for which he could never be
+      sufficiently grateful, in affording him a glimpse of his dear sister&rsquo;s
+      child. It made Dolores wince, for she never could bear the mention of her
+      mother, it was like touching a wound, and the old sensation of discomfort
+      and dislike to her uncle&rsquo;s company began to grow over her again, now that
+      she was not struggling against Mohun opposition to her meeting him. He
+      lionized them about the town, but it was a foggy, drizzly day, one of
+      those when the fringe of sea-coast often enjoys finer weather than inland
+      places; the streets were very sloppy, and Dolores and Constance did not do
+      much beyond purchasing a few cards and some presents at a fancy shop, as
+      they had agreed to do, to serve as an excuse for their expedition in case
+      it could not be kept a secret, and most of the visit was made in the
+      waiting-room at the station, or walking up and down the platform. As to
+      the grand point, Mr. Flinders told Constance that her tale was talented
+      and striking, full of great excellence; she might hope for success equal
+      to Ouida&rsquo;s&mdash;but that he had found it quite impossible to induce a
+      publisher to accept a work by an unknown author, unless she advanced
+      something. He could guarantee the return, but she must entrust him with
+      thirty pounds. Poor Constance! it was a fatal blow; she had not thirty
+      pounds in the world; she doubted if she could raise the sum, even by her
+      sister&rsquo;s help. Then Mr. Flinders sighed, and thought that if he
+      represented the circumstances, the firm might be content with twenty&mdash;nay,
+      even fifteen. Constance cheered up a little. She did think she could make
+      up fifteen, after the 21st, when certain moneys became due, which she
+      shared with her sister. She would be left very bare all the spring&mdash;but
+      what was that to the return she was promised? Only Mr. Flinders impressed
+      on her the necessity of secrecy&mdash;even from her sister&mdash;since, he
+      said, if he were once known to have obtained such terms for a young
+      authoress, he should be besieged for ever!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But, Uncle Alfred,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;surely my father and mother, and all
+      the other people I have known, did not pay to get their things published.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear niece, you speak as one who has been with persons of high and
+      established fame&mdash;the literary aristocracy, in fact. The doors once
+      opened, Miss Hacket will, like them, make her own terms; but such doors,
+      like many others, are only to be opened by a silver key.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were other particulars which he talked over with the authoress in a
+      promenade on the platform while Dolores was left in the waiting-room; but
+      afterwards he indulged his niece with a tete-a-tete, asking her father&rsquo;s
+      address, and mourning over the length of time it would take to obtain an
+      answer from Fiji. Mr. Mohun had promised to help him, solemnly and kindly
+      promised, for the sake of her whom they had both loved so much, and here
+      he was, cut off and quite in extremity. Unfortunate as usual, through his
+      determined enemies, a company in which he had shares had collapsed, he was
+      penniless till his salary from the Politician became due in March.
+      Meanwhile, he should be expelled from his lodging and brought to ruin if
+      he could not raise a few pounds&mdash;even one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores had nearly two pounds in her purse. Her father had left her amply
+      provided, and she had not much opportunity of spending. She knew he had
+      seen the gold when she was shopping, and when she had paid for the
+      refreshments, which of course she had found she had to do. With some
+      hesitation she said, &lsquo;If thirty shillings would be of any good to you&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, generous child, your dear mother&rsquo;s own daughter! It will be the
+      saving of me temporarily! But among all your wealthy relatives, surely,
+      considering your father&rsquo;s promise, you could obtain some advance until he
+      can be communicated with!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If he is still in New Zealand, we could telegraph, and hear directly. He
+      did not know how long he should be there, for the ship had something to be
+      done to it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This did not suit Mr. Flinders. Such telegrams were very expensive, and it
+      was too uncertain whether Mr. Mohun would be at Auckland. Surely, Lady
+      Merrifield, whose husband was shaking the pagoda tree, would make an
+      advance if she knew the circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think she would,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think they are very
+      rich. There is only one horse and one little pony, and my cousins have
+      such very tiny allowances.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Haughty and poor! Stuck up and skimping. Yes, I understand. But I am not
+      asking from her, only an advance, on your father&rsquo;s promise, which he would
+      be certain to repay. Yes, quite certain! It is only a matter of time. It
+      would save me at the present moment from utter ruin and destruction that
+      would have broken your dear mother&rsquo;s heart. Oh! Mary, what I lost in you.&rsquo; 
+      Then, as perhaps he saw reflection on Dolores&rsquo;s face, he added, &lsquo;She is
+      gone, the only person who took an interest in me, so it matters the less,
+      and when you hear again of your unhappy uncle you will know what drove him&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If it was only an advance&mdash;I have a cheque,&rsquo; began Dolores. &lsquo;If
+      seven pounds would do you any good&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It would be salvation!&rsquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Father left it with me,&rsquo; pursued Dolores, considering, &lsquo;in case Professor
+      Muhlwasser went on with his great book of coloured plates of microscopic
+      marine zoophytes, and sent it in. I was to keep this and pay with it&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! Muhlwasser! you need not trouble about him. I saw his death in the
+      paper a month ago.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then I really think I might send you the cheque, and write to my father
+      why I did so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! Dolly, I knew that your mother&rsquo;s daughter could never desert me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      More followed of the same kind, tending to make Dolores feel that she was
+      doing a heroically generous thing, and stifling the lurking sense in her
+      mind that she had no right to dispose of her father&rsquo;s money without his
+      consent. The December day began to close in, the gas was lighted,
+      Constance was seen disconsolately peeping out at the waiting-room door to
+      see whether the private conference were over. They joined her again, and
+      Mr. Flinders discoursed about the envy and jealousy of critics, and
+      success being only attained by getting into a certain clique, till she
+      began to look rather frightened; but reassured by the voluble list of
+      names and papers to which he assured her of recommendations. Then he began
+      to be complimentary, and she, to put on the silly tituppy kind of face and
+      tone wherewith she had talked to the curates at the festival. Dolores
+      began to find this very dull, and to feel neglected, perhaps also cross,
+      and doubts came across her whether she might not get into a dreadful
+      scrape about the money, which she certainly had no right to dispose of.
+      She at last broke in with, &lsquo;Uncle Alfred, are you quite sure Professor
+      Muhlwasser is dead?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Bless your heart, child, he&rsquo;s as dead as Harry the Eighth,&rsquo; said Mr.
+      Flinders in haste;&rsquo; died at Berlin, of fatty degeneration of the heart!
+      Well, as I was saying, Miss Constance&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But, uncle, I was thinking&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hush!&rsquo; as a couple of ladies and a whole train of nurses and children
+      invaded the waiting-room, &lsquo;it won&rsquo;t do to talk of such little matters in
+      public places, you know. Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss Constance.
+      Will you allow me to be your cavalier?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      People were beginning to arrive in expectation of the coming train, and
+      talk was not possible in the throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not make
+      it so. At last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to find places for
+      the ladies, when there was a moment&rsquo;s glimpse of a handsome moustached
+      face at a smoking-carriage window. Dolores started, and had almost
+      exclaimed, &lsquo;Uncle Reginald;&rsquo; but before the words were out of her mouth,
+      Mr. Flinders had drawn her on swiftly, among all the numbers of people
+      getting out and getting in, hurled her into a distant carriage, handed
+      Constance in after her, and muttering something about forgetting an
+      appointment, he vanished, without any of the arrangements about
+      foot-warmers that he had promised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncle Reginald!&rsquo; again exclaimed Dolores, &lsquo;I am sure it was he!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh dear! What an escape!&rsquo; answered Constance, breathless with surprise,
+      and settling herself with disgust and difficulty next to a fat old farmer,
+      as three or four more people entered and jammed them close together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Who is he?&rsquo; she presently whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Colonel Mohun. His regiment is at Galway. I know he talked of getting
+      over this winter if he possibly could; but Aunt Lily went away before the
+      post was come in.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We shall have to take great care when we get out.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the train started, and conversation in undertones became impossible,
+      more especially as two of the farmers in the carriage were coming back
+      from the Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the prize oxen with
+      all their might. It was very stuffy and close. Constance looked ineffably
+      fastidious and uncomfortable, and Dolores gazed at the clouded window, and
+      dull little lamp overhead, put in to enliven the deepening twilight. This
+      avoiding of Uncle Reginald brought more before her mind a sense of
+      wrong-doing than anything that had gone before. She was fond of this
+      uncle, who always made her father&rsquo;s house his headquarters when in London,
+      and used to play with her when she was a small child, and always to take
+      her to the Zoological Gardens, till she declared she was too old to care
+      for such a childish show, and then he and her father both laughed at her
+      so much that she would never have forgiven anybody else; and she found he
+      enjoyed it for his own sake far more than she did. However, he always did
+      take her out for walks and sights that were sure to be amusing with him.
+      Father, too, was quite bright and alive when he was in the house, and thus
+      Dolores had nothing but pleasant associations connected with this uncle,
+      and had heard of the chances of his coming like a ray of light, though
+      without much hope, since the state of Ireland had prevented him from being
+      able even to run over to take leave of her father. And now he was come,
+      she must hide from him like a guilty thing! There was no spirit of
+      opposition against him in her mind, and thus she could feel that she was
+      doing something sad and strange. Moreover, she began to feel that her
+      promise about the cheque had been a rash one, and the echo of her father&rsquo;s
+      voice came back on her, saying, &lsquo;Surely, Mary, you know better than to
+      believe a word out of Flinders&rsquo;s mouth.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But then she thought of her mother&rsquo;s rare tears glistening in her eyes,
+      and the answer, &lsquo;Poor Alfred! I cannot give him up. Everything has been
+      against him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was quite dark before Silverton was reached, at half-past five, with
+      three quarters of an hour to spare before the other travellers were
+      expected. Most of their fellow passengers had got out at previous
+      stations, so that Constance was able to open the door and jump out so
+      perilously before the train had quite stopped, that a porter caught her
+      with a sharp word of reproof. She grasped Dolores&rsquo;s hand and scudded
+      across the platform, giving the return tickets almost before the collector
+      was ready. A cautious guard even exclaimed, &lsquo;What&rsquo;s those two young women
+      up to?&rsquo; but was answered at once, &lsquo;They&rsquo;re all right! That&rsquo;s nought but
+      one of the old parson&rsquo;s daughters, as have been out with a return to
+      Darminster.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A sweetheartin&rsquo;?&rsquo; demanded one of the bystanders, and there was a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance heard the tones and vulgar laugh, though not the words, and she
+      was in such a panic as she hurried down the steps that she did not stop to
+      look out for a cab. The place was small, and they were not very plentiful
+      at any time, and she was mortally afraid, though she hardly knew why, of
+      being over-taken and questioned by Colonel Mohun, who might know his
+      niece, though he would not know her; but Dolores was tired, and had a
+      headache, and did not at all like the walk in the dirt, and fog, and dark,
+      after turning from the gas lit station.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We were to have a cab, Constance.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We can&rsquo;t,&rsquo; was the answer, still hurrying on. &lsquo;He would come out upon
+      us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He is much more likely to overtake us this way!&rsquo; said Dolores, thinking
+      of her uncle&rsquo;s long strides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, we can&rsquo;t turn back now!&rsquo; said Constance, getting almost into a run,
+      which lasted till they were past the paddock gate. Dolores, panting to
+      keep up with her, had half a mind to turn up there and go straight home;
+      but there might be any number of oxen in the way, and almost worse, she
+      might meet Jasper and Wilfred, or if Uncle Reginald overtook her, what
+      would he think?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The pair slackened their pace a little when they had satisfied themselves
+      that the break in the dark hedge beside them was the gate. They heard
+      wheels, and presently saw the lamps of a cab, bearing down, halt at the
+      gate they had left behind, and turn in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We should have been off first,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If we could have got a cab in time?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One can always get cabs.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! no, not at all for certain.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This is a nasty, stupid, out-of-the-way place,&rsquo; said Dolores, wanting to
+      say something cross.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It isn&rsquo;t a vulgar place, full of traffic,&rsquo; returned Constance, equally
+      cross.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, I never meant to walk home in this way! I&rsquo;m sure my feet are wet. I
+      wish I had waited and gone with Uncle Regie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now, Dolly, what do you mean? You would not have it all betrayed?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;ve a great mind to tell Uncle Regie all about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now, Dolly! When you said so much about the Mohun pride and scorn of your
+      poor, dear uncle.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncle Regie is not proud. And he would know what to do.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But,&rsquo; cried Constance, in a fright, &lsquo;you would never tell him! You
+      promised that it should be a secret, and I should be in such a dreadful
+      scrape with Lady Merrifield and Mary.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well! it was your doing, and you had all the pleasure of it, flourishing
+      about the platform with him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How can you be so disagreeable, Dolores, when you know it was all on
+      business. Though I do think he is the most interesting man I ever did
+      see.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just because he flattered you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, there is no need to tell how many cross and quarrelsome things
+      the two tired friends said to each other. They were sitting on opposite
+      sides of the fire, one very gloomy, and the other very pettish, when the
+      waggonette stopped at the gate, to put out Miss Hacket and take up
+      Dolores. Hands pulled her up the step, and a hubbub of merry voices
+      received her in the dark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Good girl, not to keep us waiting.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Dolly, Dolly, Macrae says Uncle Regie&rsquo;s come!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Dolly, it has been such fun!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Take care of my parcel!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah, ha! you don&rsquo;t know what is in there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s something under my feet!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! take care! &lsquo;Tisn&rsquo;t my&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hush, hush, Val&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so it went on till on the steps was seen in full light among the boys,
+      Uncle Reginald, ready to lift every one out with a kiss.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ha! Dolly, is that you?&rsquo; he said, as they came into the hall. &lsquo;I saw such
+      a likeness of you at one station that I was as near as possible jumping
+      out to speak to her. She had on just that fur tippet!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That comes of living in Ireland, Regie,&rsquo; said Aunt Lily. &lsquo;Once in a shop
+      at Belfast, a lady darted up to me with &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s I that am glad to see
+      you, me dear. And how&rsquo;s me sweet little god-daughter? Oh! and it isn&rsquo;t
+      yourself. And aren&rsquo;t you Mrs. Phelim O&rsquo;Shaugnessy?&rsquo;&rdquo; And under cover of
+      this, Dolores retreated to her own room. She took off her things, and then
+      looked at the cheque.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Professor Muhlwasser was a clever German, always at work on science,
+      counting, in the most minute and accurate manner, such details as the rays
+      in a sea anemone&rsquo;s tentacles, or the eggs in a shrimp&rsquo;s roe. He was
+      engaged on a huge book, in numbers, of which Mr. Maurice Mohun had
+      promised to take two copies&mdash;but whereas extravagances upon peculiar
+      hobbies were apt not to be tolerated in the family, and it was really
+      uncertain whether the work would ever be completed, Mr. Mohun had
+      preferred leaving a cheque for the payment in his little daughter&rsquo;s hand,
+      rather than entrust it to one of the brothers, who would have howled and
+      growled at such a waste of good money on such a subject. Thus he had told
+      Dolores to back the draft, get it changed, and send the amount by a postal
+      order to Germany, if the books and account should come, which he thought
+      very doubtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now the professor was dead, Dolores looked at the cheque, and supposed
+      she could do as she pleased with it. Mother helped Uncle Alfred. Yes, but
+      mother earned all she sent him herself! Perhaps he would not ask again.
+      How much more he had talked to Constance than to herself. Dolly wished she
+      had not seen him to get into this difficulty. She was tired, cold, and
+      damp. Oh! if she had never gone, and not been half caught by Uncle Regie!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. &mdash; A HUNT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was glad to recollect, when she awoke, that Uncle Reginald was in
+      the house. It was as if she had a friend of her own there who might enter
+      into all the ill-usage she suffered, and whom she could even consult about
+      Uncle Alfred, so far as she could do so without disclosing all the
+      underhand correspondence. She called doing so betraying Constance, but, in
+      truth, she shrank more from shocking him with what he might think very
+      wrong&mdash;since, after all, he belonged to that hard-hearted generation
+      of grown-up people who had no feeling nor understanding of one&rsquo;s troubles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she went downstairs she was aware of an increasing hubbub, and
+      frequently looking over the balusters, perceived the top of Primrose&rsquo;s
+      wavy head above the close-cropped one of Uncle Regie, as, with her mounted
+      on his shoulder, he careered round the hall, with a pack of others
+      vociferating behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a lull, for Lady Merrifield came out of her room just as Dolores
+      had paused; Primrose was put down, the morning salutations took place, and
+      Dolores had her full share of them. She was even allowed to sit next her
+      uncle at breakfast; but her rasher of bacon had not been half eaten,
+      before she had perceived that, as to possessing him as she used to do at
+      home, he was just as much everybody else&rsquo;s Uncle Regie as hers, for during
+      the time of their being stationed at Belfast, he had been so often with
+      them, that he was quite established as the prince of playfellows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncle Regie, will you have a crack at the rabbits tomorrow? Brown said we
+      might have a day, and we have been keeping it for you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncle Regie, the hounds meet at the Bugle this morning, won&rsquo;t you come
+      and see them throw off?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, let me come too!&rsquo; &lsquo;And me!&rsquo; &lsquo;And me!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear children,&rsquo; exclaimed their mother, &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t have the whole tribe
+      of little ones and girls going galloping after your uncle. You will only
+      hinder him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no, Lily! the more Merrifields, the merrier the field. I&rsquo;ll drill
+      them well. How far off is this Bugle?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not two miles over Furzy Common.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! not so far, Hal!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s nothing. Who is coming?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A general outbreak of &lsquo;Me&rsquo;s&rsquo; ensued, but mamma laid an embargo on
+      Primrose, who must stay at home and &lsquo;help her,&rsquo; while Gillian looked
+      wistful and doubtful, knowing that more efficient help than the little
+      one&rsquo;s might be desirable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You had better go, my dear,&rsquo; said her mother, &lsquo;if you are not tired. I
+      don&rsquo;t like to send Mysie and Val without some one to turn back with them
+      if your uncle and the boys want to go further.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But whereas it was not nearly time to start, Uncle Reginald was dragged
+      down to inspect all the live stock in the stable-yard, at their
+      feeding-time, and went off with Val and Primrose clinging to his hands,
+      and the general rabble surrounding him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could have been more alien to Dolores&rsquo;s taste than going out to a
+      meet on foot through mud and mire&mdash;she who hated the being driven out
+      to take a constitutional walk on the gravel road or the paved path! But
+      she had some hope that while all the others ran off madly, as was their
+      wont, she might secure a little rational conversation with Uncle Reginald.
+      So she came down in hat and ulster, and was rewarded with &lsquo;That&rsquo;s right,
+      Doll; I&rsquo;m glad to see they have taught you to take country walks.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is all compliment to you, Uncle Regie,&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;She hates them
+      generally.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Are we all ready? Where are Japs and Will?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Gone to shut up the dogs; and Hal is not coming.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Beneath his dignity, eh?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think he has some reading to do,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now mind, Reginald,&rsquo; said Aunt Lily, coming on the scene, &lsquo;you are not to
+      let those imps drag you farther than you like. It is a very different
+      thing, remember, children, from going out with the hounds like a
+      gentleman.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, mamma,&rsquo; returned Fergus. &lsquo;If you would only let me have the pony!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And send home the girls as soon as you find them in the way,&rsquo; she added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;All right,&rsquo; answered he, and off plunged the party; but Dolores soon
+      found that she was not to be allowed much of Uncle Reginald&rsquo;s exclusive
+      society. He did begin talking to her about her father&rsquo;s voyage, last
+      letters, and intended departure from Auckland, but Valetta kept fast hold
+      of his other hand, and the others were all round, every moment pointing
+      out something&mdash;to them noticeable&mdash;and telling the story of some
+      exploit, delighted when their uncle capped it with some boyish tales of
+      Beechcroft, or with some droll, Irish story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With such talk, the strong, healthy young folk little heeded the surface
+      mud or the lanes. Even Dolores when she heard her father&rsquo;s name in the
+      reminiscences,&rsquo; was interested for a time, and was always hoping that the
+      others would fly off and leave her to her uncle; but she was much less
+      used to country mud and stout boots than the others, and she had been very
+      much tired by her expedition on the previous day, so that she had begun to
+      find the way very long before they came out on an open green, with a few
+      cottages standing a good way back in their gardens, and as their centre,
+      one of the great old coaching inns of past days, now chiefly farmhouse,
+      though a sign, bearing a golden bugle-horn upon a blue ground, stood aloft
+      in front of it, over the heads of the speckled mass of tan, black, and
+      white, pervaded with curved tails, over which the scarlet-coated whips
+      kept guard, while shining horses, bearing red coats and black coats, boys,
+      and a few ladies, were moving about, and carriages drew up from time to
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long standing about, and Colonel Mohun, being a stranger there
+      himself, kept his flock on the outskirts, only Jasper plunging in, at
+      sight of a mounted schoolfellow, while Gillian and Mysie told the names of
+      the few they recognized. At last there was a move, and Jasper came back to
+      point out the wood they were going to draw, close at hand. Should they not
+      all go on and see it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! let us! do come, Uncle Regie,&rsquo; cried Mysie and Val.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Look here, Gill,&rsquo; said the uncle, &lsquo;this child doesn&rsquo;t look fit to go any
+      farther.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m very tired, and so cold,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;we ought to go home now.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not me! not me;&rsquo; cried the other two girls; &lsquo;Uncle Regie will take care of
+      us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think you must come,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;mamma said you had better come
+      home when I do.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Wilfred, &lsquo;we don&rsquo;t want a pack of girls to go and get tired.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We shall go into all sorts of places not fit for you,&rsquo; said Jasper; &lsquo;you
+      wouldn&rsquo;t come back with a whole petticoat among you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And Val would be left stodged in a ditch for a month of Sundays,&rsquo; added
+      Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am afraid we had better part company, Gill,&rsquo; said the colonel. &lsquo;I would
+      take you on a little further, but this poor little Londoner won&rsquo;t have a
+      leg to stand upon by the time she gets home.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;More shame for her to come out to spoil our fun,&rsquo; muttered Valetta, too
+      low for her uncle to hear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma will think we have gone quite far enough, thank you, uncle,&rsquo; said
+      the sage Gillian, &lsquo;and I think Fergus had better come too.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That he had,&rsquo; said Jasper. &lsquo;Fancy him over Peat Hill.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He&rsquo;ll be left behind to be picked up as we come back,&rsquo; said Wilfred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no, no! I can keep up better than you can, Wil! Take me, Uncle
+      Regie.&rsquo; The little boy was so near a howl that good-natured Colonel
+      Mohun&rsquo;s heart was touched, and he consented to let him come on, though
+      Jasper argued, &lsquo;You&rsquo;ll have to carry him, uncle.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I&rsquo;ll make you, master! Tell your mother not to wait luncheon for us,
+      Gillian; we&rsquo;ll pick up something somewhere.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hurrah!&rsquo; cried Wilfred and Fergus, to whom this was an immense additional
+      pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girls turned away into the lane, Valetta indulging in an outrageous
+      grumble. &lsquo;Why should Dolores have come out to spoil everything?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just our one chance,&rsquo; sighed Mysie, &lsquo;and perhaps we should have seen the
+      fox.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We may do that yet,&rsquo; said Gillian; &lsquo;he may come this way.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care if he does,&rsquo; said Valetta. &lsquo;I wanted to see them draw the
+      copse. I believe Dolores did it on purpose to spoil our pleasure.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t be so cross, Val,&rsquo; said Mysie. &lsquo;She can&rsquo;t help being tired.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why did she come, then, when nobody wanted her?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For shame, Val,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;you know mamma would be very angry to
+      hear you say anything so unkind.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It&rsquo;s quite true, though,&rsquo; muttered Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never mind, Dolly, dear,&rsquo; said Mysie, shocked. &lsquo;Val doesn&rsquo;t really mean
+      it, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, she does,&rsquo; said Dolores, shaking her comforter off; &lsquo;you all do! I
+      wish I had never come here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie tried in her own persevering way to argue again that Val was only
+      put out, and disappointed at having to turn back, to which Valetta, in
+      spite of Gillian&rsquo;s endeavour to silence her, added, &lsquo;So stupid of her to
+      come out! What did she do it for?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores, who hardly ever cried, was tired into crying now. &lsquo;You grudge me
+      everything; you wouldn&rsquo;t let me speak one single word to Uncle Regie, and
+      kept bothering about! I&rsquo;ll never do anything with you again! I won&rsquo;t.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you want to speak to Uncle Regie?&rsquo; asked Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To be sure I did! He is my uncle, that I knew ever so long before you
+      did, and you never let him speak to me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mrs. Halfpenny always put us on the high chair, with our faces to the
+      wall when we were jealous,&rsquo; remarked Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But did you want to say anything to him in particular?&rsquo; said Mysie,
+      revolving means of contriving a private interview.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s no business of yours! I wish you would let me alone!&rsquo; broke out
+      Dolores, in a fretful fright lest any one should guess that she had
+      anything on her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To make up stories of us, of course,&rsquo; growled Valetta, but Gillian here
+      interposed, declaring with authority that if she heard another word before
+      they reached the paddock gate, she should certainly tell mother how
+      disgracefully they had been behaving. When Gillian said such things she
+      kept her word. Besides, by way of precaution, she marched down the muddy
+      middle of the road, with Dolores limping along the footpath on one side,
+      and Val as far off as possible on the border of the ditch, on the other;
+      the more inoffensive Mysie keeping by her side. They were all weary, and
+      Dolores was very footsore also, by the time they reached home, at the very
+      moment that the two Misses Hacket appeared coming up the drive. Lady
+      Merrifield, having the day before invited the elder, as the purchases
+      needed to be looked over, and preparations set in hand, and she did not
+      then know that her brother was coming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores scarcely knew whether she was glad to see Constance. She had many
+      doubts and qualms about that cheque. And if she had spent any quiet time
+      alone with her uncle, she might have laid enough of her trouble before him
+      to get some advice or help; but to ask for an interview, especially when
+      &lsquo;everybody&rsquo; thought it was to make complaints, was too uncomfortable and
+      alarming; and she was inclined to escape from thought of the whole subject
+      altogether by taking action quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian gave her uncle&rsquo;s message about not waiting; the dirty boots were
+      taken off in the hall, and Constance followed her friend up to her room to
+      take off her things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores sat on the side of her bed, too much tired at first to be willing
+      to move, Constance&rsquo;s pity elicited tears, and that they had all been so
+      very unkind to her; they were angry at her getting tired, and they were
+      jealous of her even speaking to Uncle Regie. Again this alarmed Constance,
+      &lsquo;You weren&rsquo;t going to tell him about Mr. Flinders&mdash;you know you
+      promised.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He knows about him already, and he would tell me what to do.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but that would never do, darling Dolly. You told me all the family
+      were hard and unjust, and he would tell Lady Merrifield, and we should
+      never be allowed to see each other again. And only think of my poor little
+      secret! I didn&rsquo;t think you would have turned from your poor relation in
+      misfortune for the sake of this grand Colonel.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The end of it was, that just as the gong was sounding, Dolores handed over
+      to Constance an envelope directed to Mr. Flinders, and containing Mr.
+      Maurice Mohun&rsquo;s cheque. It was off her mind now, she thought, as she
+      shuffled down to dinner, lookup so pale and uneasy that her aunt made her
+      have a glass of wine and some gravy soup to begin with, and, when dinner
+      was over, turned all the parcels off the school-room sofa, and made her
+      lie upon it during the grand unpacking, which was almost as charming as
+      the purchasing, perhaps more so, since there was no comparison with
+      costlier articles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was not very much time. This was Friday and Christmas Day was on
+      Monday, so there were only two more clear week-days before the birthday
+      and Miss Hacket would be church-decorating on the morrow; but Lady
+      Merrifield would not send her daughters to help, as there were plenty of
+      hands without them, and they were too young to trust in a mixed set, who
+      were not always sure to be reverent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dinner had rested and refreshed them; they rejoiced in the absence of the
+      man-kind, and Primrose was sent out for her walk while the numerous boxes
+      and packages were opened, and displayed sconces and tapers, gilt balls and
+      glass birds, oranges and bon-bons, disguised in every imaginable fashion.
+      There was a double set of the tapers, and two relays of devices in sweets,
+      for the benefit of the party of the second night, a list of whom Miss
+      Hacket had brought, that heads might be counted, and any deficiency
+      supplied in time through Aunt Jane. For Lady Merrifield had commissioned
+      Gillian to lay in&mdash;unknown to the good lady&mdash;a stock of such
+      treasures as are valuable indeed to the little maid: shell pin-cushions,
+      Cinderella slippers holding thimbles, cases of hair-pins, queer
+      housewives, and the like things, wonderfully pretty for the price, and
+      which filled the kind heart of Miss Hacket with rapture and gratitude at
+      such brilliant additions to her own home-made contrivances in the way of
+      cuffs, comforters, and illuminated workbags, all beautifully neat; I
+      though it was hard to persuade her of what Lady Merrifield averred, that
+      such things ought to be far more precious than brilliant, shop-bought,
+      ready-made ware, &lsquo;with no love-seed in it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is very hard,&rsquo; she said; &lsquo;how fancy shops try to spoil all one used to
+      be able to do for one&rsquo;s friends. The purses, and the penwipers, and the
+      needle-cases that were one&rsquo;s choicest presents in my youth, are all turned
+      out now smart and tight and fashioned, but without a scrap of the honest
+      old labour and love that went into them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But papa and mamma do care still,&rsquo; cried Gillian; &lsquo;papa never will have
+      any purse but the long ones mamma nets for him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And mamma always will have the old brown and blue carriage-bag that Aunt
+      Phyllis worked,&rsquo; chimed in Mysie, &lsquo;though Claude did say he would throw it
+      into the sea when we crossed from Dublin for it looked like an old
+      housekeeper&rsquo;s.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Claude was in a superfine condition then&mdash;in awe of an old Sandhurst
+      comrade. He would be gild enough to see the old brown bag now, poor
+      fellow,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, tenderly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So it went on, with merry chat and a good deal of real preparation, till
+      the early darkness came on, and a great noise in the haul announced the
+      return of &lsquo;the boys,&rsquo; among whom Lady Merrifield still classed her colonel
+      brother. They were muddy up to the eyes, but they had seen a great deal
+      more than was easy to understand in their incoherent accounts. Wilfed had
+      rolled into a wet ditch, and been picked out by his uncle and hung up to
+      dry at a little village inn, where&mdash;this seemed to have been the
+      supreme glory&mdash;they had made a meal on pigs&rsquo;-liver and
+      bread-and-cheese before plodding home again&mdash;losing their way under
+      Wilfred&rsquo;s confident pilotage&mdash;finding themselves five miles from home&mdash;getting
+      a cast in a cart for the two little boys just as Fergus was almost ready
+      to cry&mdash;Colonel Mohun and Jasper walking alongside of the carter for
+      two miles, and conversing in a friendly manner, though the man said he
+      knew the soldier by his step, and thought it was a pool-trade. Finally, he
+      directed them by a short cut, which proved to be through a lane of clay
+      and pools of such an adhesive nature that Fergus had to be pulled out step
+      by step by main force by his uncle, who deposited him on some stones at
+      the other end, and then came back to assist the struggles of Wilfred, who
+      was slowly proceeding with Jasper&rsquo;s help.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And that&rsquo;s the way we make you spend your Christmas holiday, Regie,&rsquo; said
+      Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never mind. Lily; mud was a congenial element to us both in old times,
+      you know, so no wonder your brood take to it like ducks or hippopotamuses.
+      I say, we ought to have come in by the rear. Couldn&rsquo;t that imp of a
+      buttons of yours come and scrape us before we go upstairs?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are certainly grown older, Regie. You never would have thought of
+      that once.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No more would you, Lily&mdash;so do yourself justice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, when five o&rsquo;clock tea was spread in the drawing-room, and the
+      Hacket ladies came in, Constance beheld such a splendid vision of a fine,
+      fair, though sunburnt face, long, light moustaches, and tall figure, that
+      she instantly assumed her most affected graces, and did not wonder the
+      less that the Mohuns were all so very high.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores&rsquo;s strong desire for a private interview with her uncle died away
+      when Constance carried off the cheque. She knew he would tell her she had
+      no right to give it, and she did not want to be told so, nor to have any
+      special inquiries made. She was not sorry that an invitation from a
+      neighbour kept him and Hal out shooting all Saturday, and, on the other
+      hand, she so far shrank from Constance&rsquo;s talk about Mr. Flinders as not to
+      be vexed that it was too wet on Sunday afternoon for any going down to
+      Casement Cottages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on that wet afternoon, however, that Uncle Reginald, crossing the
+      hall for once without his tail of followers, saw her slowly dragging
+      downstairs with a book in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, Miss Doll,&rsquo; he said; &lsquo;you don&rsquo;t look very jolly! What&rsquo;s the
+      matter?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nothing, Uncle Regie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t believe in nothing. Here,&rsquo; sitting down on the stairs, with an
+      arm round her, &lsquo;tell me all about it, Dolly, we are old chums, you know.
+      Have you got into a row?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is there anything I can put straight?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, thank you, Uncle Regie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There&rsquo;s something amiss!&rsquo; said the good-natured, puzzled uncle. &lsquo;What is
+      it? I should have thought you would have got on with these young folks
+      like&mdash;like a house on fire.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s all you know about it,&rsquo; thought Dolly. What she said was, &lsquo;One
+      never does.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t understand that generalization,&rsquo; answered her uncle; then, as she
+      did not answer, he added, &lsquo;I am sure your Aunt Lily is very anxious to
+      make you happy. Have you anything to complain of?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t complain of anything.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was thinking of Valetta&rsquo;s notion that she wanted to &lsquo;make up stories
+      of them,&rsquo; and therefore she said it in a manner which conveyed that she
+      had a good deal to complain of, if she would, though really she would have
+      been a good deal puzzled to produce a grievance that a man like Uncle
+      Reginald would understand, though she had plenty for sympathy like
+      Constance&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, it was not to be expected that a private conference should last
+      long in that house, and Mysie appeared at that moment, looking for her
+      cousin, to say that &lsquo;Mamma was ready for her.&rsquo; Dolores went off with more
+      alacrity than usual, and Uncle Reginald beckoned up his other niece, and
+      observed: &lsquo;I say, Mysie, what&rsquo;s the matter with Dolly?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She is always like that, uncle,&rsquo; answered Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you hit it off with her, then?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t, uncle,&rsquo; said Mysie, looking up, with a sudden wink now and then
+      to stop her tears. &lsquo;I thought we should have been such friends; but she
+      won&rsquo;t let me. I didn&rsquo;t mean to be stupid and disagreeable, like the girls
+      in &lsquo;Ashenden Schoolroom,&rsquo; but she doesn&rsquo;t care for anybody but Miss
+      Constance and Maude Sefton.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hope you are all very kind to her,&rsquo; said Uncle Reginald, rather
+      wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We try,&rsquo; said Mysie, who was not going to betray Wilfred and Valetta, and
+      could honestly say so of herself and Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And there again came an interruption, in the shape of Gillian. &lsquo;Mysie,
+      mamma says we may finish up our sacred illuminated cards, for it will be
+      Sunday work.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, jolly!&rsquo; cried Mysie, jumping up. &lsquo;And will you give me one rub of
+      your real good carmine Gilly-flower, dear.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And of my ultramarine, too,&rsquo; responded Gillian, wherewith the two sisters
+      disappeared, radiant with goodwill and gratitude; while poor Uncle
+      Reginald, who had intended to devote this wet Sunday afternoon to writing
+      to his brother that Dolores was perfectly happy and thriving in Lily&rsquo;s
+      care, and like a sister to his other favourite, Mysie, remained
+      disappointed and perplexed, wondering whether the poor little maiden were
+      homesick, or whether no children could be depended on for kindness when
+      out of sight, and deciding that he should defer his letter till he had
+      seen a little more, and talked to his sister Jane, who could see through a
+      milestone any day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was understood that mamma preferred home-made cards to bought ones, so
+      there was always a great manufacture of them in the weeks previous to
+      Christmas, the comparative failures being exchanged among the younger
+      members.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The presents were always reserved for Valetta&rsquo;s birthday and the tree, and
+      this rendered the circulation of the cards doubly interesting. In the
+      immediate family alone, there were thirteen times thirteen, besides those
+      coming from, and going to outsiders, so that it was as well that a good
+      many should be of domestic manufacture, either with pencil and brush, or
+      of tiny leaves carefully dried and gummed. And mamma had kept an album,
+      with names and dates, into which all these home efforts were inserted, and
+      nothing else! This year&rsquo;s series began with a little chestnut curl of
+      Primrose&rsquo;s hair, fastened down on a card by Gillian, and rose to a
+      beautiful drawing of a blue Indian Lotus lily, with a gorgeous dragon-fly
+      on it, sent by Alethea. The Indian party had sent a card for every one&mdash;the
+      girls, beautiful drawings of birds, insects, and scenery; the brother, a
+      bundle of rice-paper figured with costumes, and papa, some clever
+      pen-and-ink outlines of odd figures, which his daughters beguiled from him
+      in his leisure moments!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the home circle, it is enough to say that their performances were
+      highly satisfactory to the makers, and were rewarded by mamma&rsquo;s kisses,
+      and the text or verse she had secretly illuminated for each. She had no
+      time to do more, and the series were infinitely prized and laid up as
+      treasures. There were plenty of ornamental cards from without to be
+      admired: the Brighton and Beechcroft aunts; the Stokesley cousins, and
+      whole multitudes of friends pouring them in as usual; so that the entire
+      review seemed to occupy all those free moments of the Christmas Day, when
+      the young folks were neither at church, nor at meals, nor singing carols
+      themselves, nor hearing the choir sing in the hall, nor looking over
+      photograph books and hearing old family stories. This last occupation was
+      received in the family as the regular evening pleasure, ending in all
+      singing, &lsquo;When shepherds watch their flocks by night.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores had a card from her aunt and each of her cousins, besides one of
+      the parcel Uncle Reginald had brought. She did not think enough of the
+      very bad drawing and smeared painting of the ambitious attempts she
+      received, to feel at all disconcerted at having no reciprocity to offer.
+      The only cards she had sent were to Constance Hacket, to Fraulein, and to
+      Maude Sefton&mdash;the last with a sore sense of the long interval since
+      she had heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, there was a card from Maude, but it was a very poor one, looking
+      very much like a last year&rsquo;s possession, and the letter was not much
+      better, being chiefly an apology for having been too busy to write. Maude
+      was going to lectures with Nona Styles&mdash;Nona was such a darling girl&mdash;and
+      breaking off because she was wanted to rehearse Cinderella with this same
+      darling Nona.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It made Dolores&rsquo;s heart go down farther, though there was a beautiful and
+      unexpected card from Mrs. Sefton, one from her former servant, Caroline,
+      also from Fraulein, and three or four from old friends of her mother, who
+      had remembered the solitary girl. In truth, she had more beautiful ones
+      than anybody else, but she kept these in their envelopes, and showed
+      herself so much averse to free fingering and admiration of them that Lady
+      Merrifield had to call off Valetta, remind her that her cousin had a right
+      to her own cards, and hear in return that Dolores was so cross.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dolly,&rsquo; said Uncle Reginald, in a low voice, since he was permitted to
+      look over the cards with her, &lsquo;I think I have found out part of your
+      troubles.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him in alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He put his finger on a card bearing the words, &lsquo;Goodwill to men.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Umph,&rsquo; said she. &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t want everything of mine messed and spoilt.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as his eye fell on Fergus&rsquo;s cards, he felt there was reason in what
+      she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Lily had taken her for a quarter of an hour that morning, trying to
+      infuse the real thought underlying the joy that makes it Christmas, not
+      only yule-tide. But it all fell flat&mdash;it was all lessons to her&mdash;imposed
+      on her on a day that she had not been used to see made what she called
+      &lsquo;goody.&rsquo; Last year her father had shut himself up after church, and she
+      had spent the evening in noisy mirth with the Seftons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. &mdash; AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Adeline was afraid of winter journeys as well as of the tumultuous
+      festivities of Silverton; so at twelve o&rsquo;clock. Colonel Mohun drove the
+      pony-carriage to meet the little trim Brownie who stepped out of the
+      station, the porter carrying behind her a huge thing, long, and swathed in
+      brown paper. &lsquo;It is quite light; it won&rsquo;t hurt,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;It must go
+      with us. Put your legs across it, Regie. That&rsquo;s right.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then what becomes of yours?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mine can go anywhere,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun, crumpling herself up in some
+      mysterious manner under the fur rug, while they drove off, her luggage
+      sticking far off on either side of the splashboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What, in the name of wonder, are you smuggling in there?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If you must know, it is the body of a mummy over whose dissection you
+      will have to assist.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! Rotherwood is coming.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Rotherwood!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And his little girl. Just like him. Lily gets a note this morning from
+      London, telling her to telegraph if she can&rsquo;t have them by the 5.20 train.
+      I&rsquo;ve just been ordering a fly. It seems that Lady Rotherwood, going to
+      meet Ivinghoe at the station, coming from school, found he had measles
+      coming out! So they packed off his sister to Beechcroft without having
+      seen him, and thence Rotherwood took her to London.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And is having a fine frolic with her, no doubt; but he might as well have
+      given Lily more notice, considering that a marquess or two makes more
+      difference to her household than it does to his.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! she is glad enough, only in some trepidation as to how Mrs. Halfpenny
+      may receive the unspecified maid that the child may bring.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How jolly we shall be! I wish Ada had come.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I tried to drag her out, but it gets harder and harder to shake her up.
+      You must come back with me and see her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I say, Jane, have you seen Maurice&rsquo;s child lately?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not very. She wouldn&rsquo;t come with the others last week.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What do you think about her? I thought leaving her with Lily would have
+      been the making of her. Indeed, I told Maurice there could not be a better
+      brought up set anywhere than the Merrifields, and that Lily would mother
+      her like one of her own; and now I find her moping about, looking
+      regularly down in the mouth. I got hold of her one day and tried to find
+      out what was the matter, but she only said she would not complain. Can
+      they bully her?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what, Maurice, Lily is a great deal too kind to her. She
+      has a kind of temper that won&rsquo;t let them make friends with her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Come now! She was a nice jolly little girl at home. She and I have had no
+      end of larks together, and it is hard to blame her for fretting after her
+      home, poor child&mdash;Aye! I know you never liked her, or she might have
+      done better with you and Ada than turned in among a lot of imps.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m thankful it was otherwise!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now do, Jane, set your mind to it. Don&rsquo;t be prejudiced, but make those
+      sharp eyes of some use. I really feel bound to give Maurice an account of
+      Dolly, and tell him what is best for her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I believe,&rsquo; said Jane, &lsquo;that there is some counter-influence at work, and
+      I am trying to find it out; but, after all, I believe patience is the only
+      thing, and that Lily will conquer her if nobody meddles.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;&rsquo;Tis not Lily I am afraid of, but her children.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nonsense, Regie; one would think you had never been turned loose into
+      school to be licked into shape.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She is a girl, not a cub like me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A worse cub, for she has not your temper, sir, and, moreover, you had had
+      the wholesome discipline of a large family. Besides, nobody teases but
+      Wilfred. Gillian and Mysie behave like angels to the tiresome puss.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, I&rsquo;m bound to believe you, Jenny, but I don&rsquo;t like the looks of it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jane&rsquo;s mysterious parcel was greeted rapturously, and conveyed into
+      the dining-room, which had a semi-circular end, filled with glass, and
+      capable of being shut off with heavy curtains when the season made
+      snugness desirable. This bay had been set apart from the first for her
+      operations, the tree, whose second season it was, having been taken up and
+      already erected in the centre of the room, not much the worse for last
+      year&rsquo;s excursion, for, if rather stunted, that was all the better. No one
+      was excluded from the decoration thereof, since that was the best part of
+      the sport to those too old for the mystery&mdash;and yet young enough to
+      fasten sconces where their candles would infallibly set fire to the twigs
+      above them. The only defaulters were Jasper, who had preferred going down
+      to the meadows with his gun; and Dolores, who had retired to the
+      drawing-room with a book, on having a paper star removed from immediate
+      risk of conflagration. &lsquo;They were determined not to let her help,&rsquo; she
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So she only emerged when the workers halted for a merry, hurried meal in
+      the schoolroom, where Jasper appeared, very late, very cross at having had
+      to make himself fit to be seen, and, likewise, at having brought home no
+      spoil, the snipes having been so malicious as to escape him. Having
+      sallied forth before the post came in, it was only now that it broke on
+      him that visitors were expected, and he did not like it at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought we had got rid of all the enemy!&rsquo; he growled, at his end of the
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s what he calls Constance.&rsquo; thought Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Polite,&rsquo; observed Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This will be worse still, being lord and ladies grumbled on Jasper, &lsquo;I
+      hate swells.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but these aren&rsquo;t like horrid, common, fine lords and ladies,&rsquo; cried
+      Mysie; &lsquo;why, you know all mamma&rsquo;s old stories about the fun they had with
+      cousin Rotherwood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What&rsquo;s the good of that! That&rsquo;s a hundred years ago. He&rsquo;ll just make
+      mamma and Uncle Regie of no good at all! And then there&rsquo;s a girl too&mdash;&rsquo; 
+      (in a tone of inconceivable disgust) &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t want strange girls&mdash;an
+      awful stuck-up swell of a Londoner, not able to do anything! I wish I had
+      gone to spend Christmas with Bruce! I would if I had known it was to be
+      like this.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The speech brought Mysie to the verge of tears. Aunt Jane&rsquo;s sharp ears
+      heard it, and she looked at the head of the table, expecting to hear a
+      rebuke; but Lady Merrifield turned a deaf ear on that side. Only after the
+      meal, she called her son, &lsquo;Jasper,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;I want to send a note to
+      Redford, if you like to ride over with it. You need not come home till
+      eight o&rsquo;clock, if it is moonlight, it the boys are disengaged, and if you
+      do really wish to keep out of the way.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jasper&rsquo;s eyes fell under hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma, I don&rsquo;t want that.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only you said more than you meant, Japs. If it relieves your mind, it
+      hurts other people. But I do want the note taken, so go and come back in
+      time for the sports; which I don&rsquo;t think you will find much damaged.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime, Aunt Jane had ensconced herself behind the curtains; where she
+      admitted no one but Miss Vincent and Uncle Reginald, and in process of
+      time, mamma and Macrae. The others were still fully employed in garnishing
+      the tree, though it was only to bear lights, ornaments and sweets. All
+      solid articles had been for some time past committed to a huge box, or
+      ottoman, the veteran companion of the family travels, which stood in the
+      centre of the bay. Into its capacious interior everybody had been dropping
+      parcels of various sizes and shapes, with addresses in all sorts of hands,
+      which were to find their destination on this great evening. This was part
+      of the mystery that kept Mysie and Valetta in one continual dance and
+      caper. It was all they could do not to peep between the curtains when the
+      privileged mortals went in and out, bearing all sorts of mysterious loads
+      well covered up from all eyes. Wilfred did make one attempt, but something
+      extraordinary snapped at his nose, with a sharp crack, and drove him back
+      with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A lamp had been taken thither, and there really was nothing more to do to
+      the tree, the scraps of packing had been picked up, and the hands,
+      tingling from fir-needle pricks, had been washed, though not without
+      protest from Valetta that it wasn&rsquo;t worth while, and from Wilfred that it
+      was all along of these horrid swells&mdash;!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sound of wheels summoned Lady Merrifield and her brother from the
+      place of mystery, and they were in the hall when a fresh gust of keen air
+      came in from the door, an ulstered figure hurried in, and something small
+      and furred was put into the lady&rsquo;s embrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s my Fly, Lily&mdash;! Look, Fly, here they all are&mdash;all the
+      cousins. Off with the hat. Let us see your funny little face.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a funny little smiling face, set in short, light, wavy hair, not
+      exactly pretty, but with a bright, quaint, confiding look, as if used to
+      be shown off by her father, and ready to make friends on the spot. &lsquo;And
+      how is your boy?&rsquo; as the round of greetings was completed, and the wraps
+      thrown off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Going on capitally, better than he deserves, the young scamp, for
+      suppressing all symptoms for fear he should be hindered from coming home.
+      His mother was in a proper fright, she showed him to the doctor on the
+      way, who told her to put him to bed at once, and send his sister out of
+      the house. She never set eyes on him, or I would not have brought her
+      here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am exceedingly glad you have,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, bending for
+      another kiss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And Lily, I&rsquo;ve done another awful thing. Victoria kept old nurse to help
+      with Ivinghoe, and we brought the Swiss bonne, Louise, away with us, but
+      the poor thing found her sister very ill in London, and I hadn&rsquo;t the heart
+      to bring her away, so Phyllis said she would do for herself, if your maid,
+      or some of them, would have an eye to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There! I&rsquo;m doubly glad, Rotherwood! If I had any fears it was not of you,
+      or Phyllis; but that like Vich Ian Vhor, she should have her tail on. And,
+      oh! Rotherwood, do you know what you are in for?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;High jinks of some sort, I&rsquo;ve no doubt. We picked up a couple of boxes at
+      Gunter&rsquo;s and Miller&rsquo;s with a view thereto. Who is master of the revels?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Jane. She&rsquo;s too deep in preparations to come forth at present. Gillian,
+      will you take Phyllis to the nursery, and take care of her. We are to have
+      a very high tea at half-past six; but, Rotherwood, I promise that another
+      day you shall have a respectable dinner in this house.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Return to the prose of life, eh, Lily? Well, Fly, what do you think of
+      it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, daddy, aren&rsquo;t you glad we came?&rsquo; she cried, dancing off, in Gillian&rsquo;s
+      wake, arm-in-arm with Mysie and Valetta, while he called after her, &lsquo;Find
+      the boxes, and make them over to the right quarter.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was enough to make the whole bevy of children rush away, and only the
+      three elders remained. Lord Rotherwood said, &lsquo;This is short notice. Lily;
+      but I did not know Reginald was here, and I thought you might want help.
+      Don&rsquo;t be frightened, only a queer thing has happened. I went to W.&lsquo;s bank
+      yesterday. I thought they looked at me as if something was up, and
+      by-and-by one of the partners came and took me into his private room.
+      There he showed me a cheque, and asked my opinion whether the writing was
+      Maurice&rsquo;s. And I should say it decidedly was, but it was actually for
+      seventy pounds, payable to order of Miss Dolores M. Mohun.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Seventy!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, and dated the 19th of August.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Just before Maurice went.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden silence, for the door opened; but it was to admit Miss
+      Mohun, who began, &lsquo;Oh! Rotherwood, you are too munificent. Why, what&rsquo;s the
+      matter?&rsquo; Lady Merrifield hastily explained, as far as she yet understood,
+      what had brought him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How did they get the cheque?&rsquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Sent up from the country bank where it had been cashed&mdash;Darminster.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; came from both the aunts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Rotherwood went on. &lsquo;They asked me who Miss Dolores Mohun was, and I
+      could do no otherwise than tell them, and likewise where to find her, but
+      I explained that she is a mere child; and I told them I would come down
+      here, so I hope you will have as little annoyance as possible.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is very good of you, Rotherwood, but I can&rsquo;t understand it at all. Was
+      her name on the back?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Certainly; I told them I thought the whole thing must be a well got up
+      forgery, and a confidential clerk was to go down today to Darminster to
+      try to find out who gave it in there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Darminster! Flinders!&rsquo; ejaculated Miss Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Regie,&rsquo; exclaimed Lady Merrifield; &lsquo;what did you say about having seen
+      some one like Dolores at Darminster station?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I was nearly jumping out after her. I should have said it was herself, if
+      it had not been impossible. Why she was with you at Rockstone, and it was
+      a pouring, dripping day,&rsquo; said the colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, she was not. She begged to spend the day with Constance Hacket, and
+      we picked her up as we came home. Poor child, what has she been doing? I
+      have not looked after her properly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But need she have had anything to do with it?&rsquo; said Colonel Mohun. &lsquo;How
+      should a cheque of Maurice&rsquo;s come into her possession?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She did tell me,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield,&rsquo; that her father had left one
+      with her to pay for some German scientific book that might be sent for
+      him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I see, then!&rsquo; cried Miss Mohun. &lsquo;That wretch Flinders must have got into
+      communication with her, and induced her to fill up her father&rsquo;s cheque for
+      him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But why should it be Flinders?&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Jane found out that he is living at Darminster, and has been trying to
+      put me on my guard,&rsquo; returned Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is all that fellow Flinders, depend upon it,&rsquo; said Colonel Mohun. &lsquo;He
+      is quite capable of it, and you&rsquo;ll find poor Dolly has nothing to do with
+      it. Quite preposterous. And look here, Lily, let the poor child alone to
+      enjoy herself tonight. Most likely Rotherwood&rsquo;s clerk, or detective, or
+      whatever he may be, will have ferreted out the rights of the matter at
+      Darminster. I sincerely hope he will, and have Flinders in custody, and
+      then you would have upset her and accused her all for nothing.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am glad you think so, Regie,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;I am thankful
+      enough to wait, and hope it will be explained without spoiling the
+      children&rsquo;s evening.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;All right,&rsquo; said the visitor; &lsquo;I only hope I have not spoilt yours.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! one learns to throw things off. I shall believe it is all Flinders,
+      and none of it the child&rsquo;s,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, carefully avoiding a
+      glance that could show her any gesture of dissent on the part of her
+      sister, and only looking up for her brother&rsquo;s nod of approval. &lsquo;Besides,
+      how foolish it would be to worry myself when I have two such protectors!
+      It was very good in you, Rotherwood, I only hope we shall take good care
+      of your Fly, and that her mother will be satisfied about her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She knew the little woman and I should have a lark together,&rsquo; said he.
+      &lsquo;The governess was safe out of reach, holiday-making, so I could have her
+      all to myself. Victoria suggested her brother&rsquo;s, and we must go there
+      before we have done, but business and the pantomime by good luck took us
+      to London first. So when I wrote to you from the bank, I also let her know
+      that I was obliged to take the little woman down here first. I couldn&rsquo;t
+      take her to High Court till Louise is available again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So much the better, I&rsquo;m sure.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And what I was going to say is, that Rotherwood has been startlingly
+      munificent and splendid,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane. &lsquo;We shall have a set of new
+      surprises.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t in the least know what I brought. I only told each of them to put
+      up such a box as they sent out for Christmas concerns. Do precisely what
+      you please with them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Come and see, Lily, for I think there will be enough to reserve a fresh
+      lot of things for Miss Hacket&rsquo;s affair. By-the-by, Regie, did you say it
+      rained at Darminster?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poured all the way down.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, we had it quite fine.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Was it fine here?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, certainly,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield,&rsquo; or Primrose would not have gone
+      out. Take care of Rotherwood, Regie. You know his room.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the two sisters crossed the hall, where the &lsquo;very high tea&rsquo; was being
+      laid; hearing from the regions above sounds of exquisite glee and
+      merriment, as perfect and almost as inexpressive of anything else as the
+      singing of birds, so that they themselves could not help answering with a
+      laugh, before they vanished into the chamber of mystery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed, Phyllis&rsquo;s conversation was like a fairy tale. Her brother&rsquo;s
+      illness, which was not enough to damp any one&rsquo;s spirits, had prevented or
+      hindered a grand children&rsquo;s party as the Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball, where she was
+      to have been the Butterfly, and Lord Ivinghoe the Grasshopper, and all the
+      children were to appear as one of the characters in Roscoe&rsquo;s pretty poem.
+      Never was anything more delightful to the imagination of the little
+      cousins, and they could not marvel enough at her seeming so little uneasy
+      about anything so charming, and quite ready and eager to throw herself
+      headlong into all their present enjoyments, making wonderful surmises as
+      to the mystery in preparation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores heard the laughing, and it did not suit with her vaguely uneasy
+      and injured frame of mind; feeling dreadfully lonely too, as she came
+      downstairs, dressed for the evening, but not knowing where to go, for the
+      dining-room was engrossed, the schoolroom was dark and the fire out, the
+      drawing-room occupied by the two gentlemen. She crouched down in one of
+      the big arm-chairs on either side of the hearth in the hall, and began to
+      read by the firelight. Presently Jasper came in from his ride, and began
+      taking off his greatcoat, leggings, and boots, whistling as he did so,
+      then, perceiving the tempting object of a black leg sticking out of the
+      chair, he stole up across the soft carpet, and caught hold of the ankle.
+      He received a vigorous kick in return (which perhaps he expected) but what
+      he did not expect was the black figure that rose up in outraged dignity
+      and indignation. &lsquo;For shame! I won&rsquo;t be insulted!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Whew! I thought &lsquo;twas Val! I beg your pardon.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I shall ask my aunt if I am to be insulted.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, if you choose to take it in that way&mdash;A man can&rsquo;t do more than
+      beg pardon! I&rsquo;m sure I would never have presumed to touch you if I had
+      known it was your Dolorousness.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he turned to walk away, just as the babbling ripple of laughter began
+      to flow downstairs, and a whole mass of little girls intertwined together
+      was descending. &lsquo;I always hop,&rsquo; said a voice new to him, &lsquo;except on the
+      great staircase, and mother doesn&rsquo;t like it there. But this is such a
+      jolly stair. Can&rsquo;t you hop?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopping in a threefold embrace on a slippery stair was hardly a safe
+      pastime, and before Jasper had time to utter more than&rsquo; Holloa there! take
+      care!&rsquo; there descended suddenly on him an avalanche of little girls,
+      &lsquo;knocking him off his feet, so that all promiscuously rolled down two or
+      three steps together. Fergus and Primrose, who had somehow been holding on
+      behind,&rsquo; remained upright, but nevertheless screaming. The shrieks of the
+      fallen were, however, laughter. There was a soft rug below, and by the
+      time the gentlemen had rushed out of the dining-room, and the ladies from
+      the curtained recess, giggling below and legs above were chiefly apparent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Any one hurt?&rsquo; was of course Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no, mamma. Only we are so mixed up we can&rsquo;t get up,&rsquo; called out Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is this arm you or me?&rsquo; exclaimed Phyllis, following up the joke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Come, sort yourselves, ladies and gentlemen,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood.
+      &lsquo;What&rsquo;s this, a Fly&rsquo;s wing?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, it&rsquo;s mine,&rsquo; cried Val, as his hand pulled her out, and the others
+      extricated themselves, still laughing, go that they could hardly stand,
+      and Fly declaring, &lsquo;Oh, daddy, daddy, it is such fun! I am so glad we
+      came,&rsquo; and taking a gratuitous leap into the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Every one to her taste,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;I congratulate those to
+      whom a compound tumble-down-stairs is felicity.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She has found her congenial element, you see,&rsquo; said her father, as the
+      elders proceeded upstairs to their toilette.&rsquo; &lsquo;Tis laughing-gas with her
+      to be with other children, and the most laughingest of all are naturally
+      yours, old Lily.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile Jasper, risen on his stocking soles, looked all over at the
+      little figure, dressed old picture fashion, in the simplest white frock
+      with blue sash, and short-cut hair tied back with blue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, you are a jolly little girl,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;and a cool customer, too!
+      What do you mean by knocking a fellow over the first time you see him?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And what do you mean by coming like a great&mdash;huge&mdash;big elephant
+      in our way to stop up the stairs?&rsquo; demanded Fly, in return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you mean to insinivate that &lsquo;twas I that made you fall?&rsquo; said Jasper&mdash;&lsquo;I,
+      that was quietly walking up the stairs, when down there came on me a
+      shower&mdash;not cats and dogs, but worserer, far worserer! Why, I&rsquo;m kilt!
+      my nose is flat as a pancake, I shan&rsquo;t recover my beauty all the evening
+      for the great swells that are coming.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Jasper, Japs,&rsquo; called his mother&rsquo;s warning voice, &lsquo;you must come up and
+      dress, for tea is going in.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed, rushing two steps at a time; but meeting, at the bottom of the
+      attic flight, his sister Gillian, he demanded, &lsquo;Gill, what awfully jolly
+      little girl have they got down there?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why, Fly, of course, Lady Phyllis Devereux&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no, nothing swell, a comical little soul, with no nonsense about her,
+      in a white thing.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, that&rsquo;s Phyllis. There&rsquo;s no one else there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I say. Gill, &lsquo;tis like sunshine and clouds. She and the other, I mean.
+      Why, I gave a little pull to a foot I saw in the armchair, thinking it
+      belonged to Val, and out breaks my Lady of the Rueful Countenance, vowing
+      she&rsquo;ll complain that I&rsquo;ve insulted her; and as to the other, the whole lot
+      of them tumbled over me together on the stairs, and she did nothing but
+      laugh and chaff.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hope she is not a romp,&rsquo; said the staid Gillian, sagely, as she went
+      downstairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But on that score she was soon satisfied. Phyllis Devereux was a thorough
+      little lady, wild and merry as she was, and enchanted to be in the rare
+      fairyland of child companionship. And that indeed she had, Mysie and
+      Valetta, between whose ages she stood, hung to her inseparably, and Jasper
+      was quite transformed from his grim superciliousness into her devoted
+      knight. At tea-time there was a competition for the seats next to her,
+      determined by Valetta&rsquo;s taking one side, in right of the birthday, and
+      Jasper the other, because he secured it, and Mysie gave way to him because
+      he was Japs, and she always did. While Dolores laid up a store of
+      moralizings on the adulation paid to the little lady of title, and at the
+      same time speculated what concatenation of circumstances could ever make
+      her Lady Dolores Mohun. On the whole, it would be more likely that her
+      father should gain a peerage by putting down a Fijian rebellion than that
+      it should be discovered that his mother, Lady Emily, had been the true
+      heiress of the marquessate, and even so, an uncomfortable number of people
+      must be disposed of before it could come to him. She had one consolation,
+      however, for Uncle Reginald, always kind to her, was particularly
+      affectionate this evening, as if he would not have that little foolish Fly
+      set up before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tea and the tree both went off joyously. There is no need to describe
+      the spectacle to folks who can count their Christmas-trees by the years of
+      their life and the memorable part of this one was that much of the fruit
+      that had been left hanging on it was now metamorphosed into something much
+      more gorgeous&mdash;oranges had become eggs full of sugar-plums,
+      gutta-percha monkeys grinned on the branches, golden flowers had sprung to
+      life on the ends of the twigs, a lovely jewel-like lantern crowned the
+      whole, and as to sweets, everybody&mdash;servants and all&mdash;had some
+      delightful devices containing them, whether drum, bird, or bird&rsquo;s nest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the distribution was over, it was observed that Aunt Jane and Uncle
+      Reginald, also Harry, had vanished from the scene. There was a pause,
+      during which such tapers as began to burn perilously low, were
+      extinguished, an operation as delightful apparently as the fixing them.
+      Presently a horn was heard, and a start or shudder of mysterious ecstasy
+      pervaded the audience, as a tall figure came through the curtains, and
+      announced:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honour to inform you that a fresh
+      discovery has been made in the secret chambers of the Pyramid of Chops,
+      otherwise known as Te-Gun-Ter-ra. A mummy has been disinterred, which is
+      about to be opened by the celebrated Egyptologist, Herr Professor
+      Freudigfeldius, who has likewise discovered the means of making such a
+      conjuration of the Sphynx that she will not only summon each of the
+      present company by name, but will require of each of them to reply to a
+      question. The penalty of a refusal is well known!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Therewith the curtains were drawn back, and a scene was presented which
+      made some of the spectators start. Behind was the semblance of a wall
+      marked with the joints of large stones, and lighted (apparently) with two
+      brass lamps. On the floor lay extended an enormous mummy, with the
+      regulation canvas case, and huge flaps of ears, between which appeared a
+      small, painted face, and below lay a long, gaily coloured scroll in
+      hieroglyphics. Exalted stiffly in a seat placed on a seeming block of
+      stone, was a figure, with elbows, as it were glued to its sides, and hands
+      crossed, altogether stone-coloured and monumental, and with the true
+      Sphynx head, surrounded with beetles, lizards, and other mystic creatures
+      (very chocolate-coloured). And beside her stood the Herr Professor, in a
+      red fez, long dark gown, and spectacles, a flowing beard concealing the
+      rest of his face. How delightful to see such an Egyptologist! Even though
+      one perfectly knew the family beard and fez; also that the gown was papa&rsquo;s
+      old dressing-gown, captured for the theatrical wardrobe. And how grand to
+      hear him speak, even though his broken English continually became more
+      vernacular.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Liebes Herrschaft,&rsquo; he began, &lsquo;I would, nobles, gentry, and ladies say.
+      You here see the embalmed rests of the celebrated monarch Nic-nac-ci-no.
+      Lately up have I them graben, and likewise his tutelar Sphynx have found,
+      and have even to give signs of animation compelled.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Touching the effigy with his wand, she emitted certain growls and hisses,
+      which made Primrose hide her face in alarm at anything so uncanny, and
+      Lord Rotherwood observe&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nearly related to the cat-goddess Pasht; I thought so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There was something of the lion or cat in the Sphynx,&rsquo; said Gillian,
+      gravely, while the three little girls clasped each other&rsquo;s hands with
+      delightful thrills of awe and expectation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Observe,&rsquo; continued the Professor, &lsquo;the outer case with the features of
+      the deceased is painted. I should conclude that King Nic-nac, etcetera,
+      had been of a peculiarly jolly&mdash;I mean frolich&mdash;nature, judging
+      by the grin on his face. We proceed&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he laid his hand on the wrapper, the Sphynx gave utterance to sounds so
+      like the bad language of a cat that some looked round for one. The
+      Professor waved at her, and she subsided. He turned back the covering, and
+      demanded, &lsquo;Will the amiable Fraulein there. Mademoiselle Valetta, come and
+      see what treasures she can discover in the secrets of the tomb?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Val, who in right of her birthday, had expected the first call, jumped up,
+      but the Sphynx made awful noises as she advanced, and the Professor
+      explained that she would have to answer the Sphynx&rsquo;s question first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But I don&rsquo;t know Egyptian,&rsquo; she observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never mind, it will sound like English.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It did so, for it was, &lsquo;How many months old art thou, maiden?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Val&rsquo;s arithmetic was slightly scared. She clasped her hand nervously, and
+      was indebted to the Professor for the sotto voce hint, &lsquo;twelve nines,&rsquo; 
+      before she uttered &lsquo;a hundred and eight.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Sphynx relapsed into stoniness, and the Herr Professor guided the
+      hands, which trembled a little, to the interior of the mummy, whence they
+      drew out a basket, labelled (wonderful to relate) &lsquo;Val,&rsquo; and containing&mdash;oh!
+      such treasures, a blue egg full of needlework implements, a new book, an
+      Indian ivory case, a skipping-rope, a shuttlecock, and other delights past
+      description. The exhibition of them was only beginning when the Professor
+      called for Primrose, who was too much frightened to come alone, and
+      therefore was permitted to be brought by Mrs. Halfpenny. The Sphynx was
+      particularly amiable on this occasion, and only asked &lsquo;When Primroses
+      came?&rsquo; and as the little one, in her shy fright did not reply, nurse did
+      so, with, &lsquo;Come, missie, can&rsquo;t you find a word to tell that mamma&rsquo;s
+      Primrose came in spring.&rsquo; This was allowed to pass, and Mrs. Halfpenny
+      bore off her child, clutching a doll&rsquo;s cradle, stuffed with pretty things,
+      and for herself a bundle wrapped up in a shawl from Sir Jasper himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After Primrose was gone to bed, the Sphynx became much more ill-tempered
+      and demonstrative, snarling considerably at the approach of some of the
+      party, some of whom replied with convulsive laughter, some, such as
+      Jasper, with demonstrations of &lsquo;poking up the Sphynx.&rsquo; She had a question
+      for everybody&mdash;Fly was asked, &lsquo;Which was best, a tree or a
+      Butterfly&rsquo;s ball?&rsquo; and answered, with truthful politeness, that where
+      Mysie and Val were was best of all. She carried off a collection that had
+      hastily been made of Indian curiosities, photographs of her two friends,
+      and a book; and her father, after being asked, &lsquo;What was the best of
+      insects?&rsquo; and replying, &lsquo;On the whole, I think it is my housefly, even
+      when she isn&rsquo;t a butterfly,&rsquo; received a letter-weight of brass, fashioned
+      like an enormous fly, which Lady Merrifield had snatched up from the table
+      for the purpose. The maids giggled at the well-known conundrums proposed
+      to them, and Dolores had a very easy question&mdash;&rsquo; What was the weather
+      this day week?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A horrid wet day,&rsquo; she promptly answered, and found herself endowed with
+      a parcel containing some of the best presents of all, bangles from the
+      Indian box, a beautiful pair of stork-like scissors, a writing-case, etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The Sphynx&rsquo;s invention is running low,&rsquo; observed Jasper to Gillian, when
+      the creature put the same question about last week&rsquo;s weather to Herbert,
+      the page-boy, as a prelude to his discovering the treasures of the mummy,
+      as a knife and an umbrella. His view of the weather was that it was &lsquo;A
+      fine day ma&rsquo;am! yes, a fine day.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Macrae came last, and the Sphynx asked him which of the two contrary views
+      was right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was fine, ma&rsquo;am, that I know. For I walked down with nurse, and little
+      Miss Primrose into Silverton, to help to carry her in case she was tired,
+      and we never had occasion to put up an umbrella.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wherewith Macrae received his combination of gifts and retired; the mummy
+      being completely rifled, and the construction of the body, a frame of
+      light, open wicker-work, revealed. Aunt Jane had had it made at the
+      basketmaker&rsquo;s, while as to the head and covering, her own ingenious
+      fingers had painted and fashioned them. Everybody had to look at
+      everybody&rsquo;s presents, a lengthened operation, and then there was a
+      splendid game at blindman&rsquo;s-buff in the hall, in which all the elders
+      joined, except mamma, who had to go and sit in the nursery with the
+      restless and excited Primrose while Mrs. Halfpenny and Lots went down to
+      the servants&rsquo; festivity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When she came down again, it was to quiet the tempest of merriment, and
+      send off the younger folks in succession to bed, till only the four elders
+      and Hal remained on the scene, waiting till there was reason to think the
+      household would be ready for prayers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was Dolores that you saw at Darminster, Reginald,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun,
+      quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You Sphynx woman, how do you know?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You said it was raining at Darminster.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, that it was, everywhere beyond the tunnel through the Darfield
+      hills.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Exactly, I know they make a line in the rainfall. Well, here it was dry,
+      but Dolores called it a wet day.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now I call that too bad, Jane, to lay a trap for the poor child in the
+      game,&rsquo; cried Colonel Mohun, just as if they had still been boy and girl
+      together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was to satisfy my own mind,&rsquo; she said, colouring a little. &lsquo;I didn&rsquo;t
+      want any one to act on it. Indeed, I think there will be no occasion.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Besides,&rsquo; he added, &lsquo;it is nothing to go upon! No doubt, if it wasn&rsquo;t
+      raining, it was the next thing to it here, and bow was she to recollect at
+      this distance of time? I won&rsquo;t have her caught out in that way!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am glad she has a champion, Regie,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;Here come
+      the servants.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. &mdash; A CYPHER AND A TY.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was coming down to breakfast the next morning when Colonel Mohun&rsquo;s
+      door opened. He exclaimed, &lsquo;My little Dolly, good morning!&rsquo; stooped down
+      and kissed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, standing still a moment, and holding her hand, he said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dolly, it was not you I saw at Darminster station?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a terrible shock. Some one, no doubt, was trying to set him against
+      her. And should she betray Constance and her uncle? At any rate, almost
+      before she knew what she was saying, &lsquo;No, Uncle Regie,&rsquo; was out of her
+      mouth, and her conscience was being answered with &lsquo;How do I know it was me
+      that he saw? these fur capes are very common.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought not,&rsquo; he answered, kindly. &lsquo;Look here, Dolly, I want one word
+      with you. Did your father ever leave anything in charge with you for Mr.
+      Flinders? Did he ever speak to you about him?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never,&rsquo; Dolores truly answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Because, my dear, though it&rsquo;s a hard thing to say, and your poor mother
+      felt bound to him, he is a slippery fellow&mdash;a scamp, in fact, and if
+      ever he writes to you here, you had better send the letter straight off to
+      me, and I&rsquo;ll see what&rsquo;s to be done. He never has, I suppose?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Dolores, answering the word here, and foolishly feeling the
+      involvement too great, and Constance too much concerned in it for her to
+      confess to her uncle what had really happened. Indeed, the first falsehood
+      held her to the second; and there was no more time, for Lord Rotherwood
+      was coming out of his room further down the passage. And after the
+      greetings, as she went downstairs before the two gentlemen, she was sure
+      she heard Uncle Regie say, &lsquo;She&rsquo;s all right.&rsquo; What could it mean? Was a
+      storm averted? or was it brewing? Could that spiteful Aunt Jane and her
+      questions about the weather be at the bottom of it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fun that was going on at breakfast seemed a mere roar of folly to her,
+      and she had an instinct of nothing but getting away to Constance. She soon
+      found that there would be opportunity enough, for the tree was to be taken
+      down in a barrow, and all the youthful world was to carry down the
+      decorations in baskets, and help to put them on. She dashed off among the
+      first to put on her things, and then was disappointed to find that first
+      all the pets were to be fed and shown off to Fly, who appreciated them far
+      more than she had done&mdash;knew how to lay hold of a rabbit, nursed the
+      guinea-pigs and puppies in turn, and was rapturous in her acceptance of
+      two young guinea-pigs and one puppy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I can keep them up in daddy&rsquo;s dressing-room while we are at High Court,
+      and it will be such fun,&rsquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Will he let you?&rsquo; asked Gillian, in some doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! daddy will always let me, and so will Griffin&mdash;his man, you
+      know, only we left him in London because daddy said he would be in your
+      butler&rsquo;s way, but I can&rsquo;t think why. Griffin would have helped about the
+      tree and learnt to make a mummy when we have our party. Louise would not
+      let me have them in the nursery, I know, but daddy and Griffin would, and
+      I could go and feed them in the morning before breakfast. Griffin would
+      get me bran! That is, if we do go to High Court; I wish we were to stay on
+      here. There&rsquo;s nobody to play with at High Court, and grandpapa always
+      keeps daddy talking politics, so that I can hardly ever get him! Mysie,
+      whatever do you do with your father away in India?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, it is horrid. But then, there&rsquo;s mamma,&rsquo; said Mysie, whispering,
+      however, as she saw Dolores near, and feared to hurt her feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; said Fly, with a tender little shake of her head; &lsquo;&rsquo;tis worse for
+      her to have no mother at all! Is that why she looks so sad?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Cross&rsquo; is the word,&rsquo; said Wilfred. &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t think what she is come
+      bothering down here for!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! for shame, Wilfred!&rsquo; said Fly. &lsquo;You should be sorry for her.&rsquo; And she
+      went up to Dolores, and by way of doing the kindest thing in the world,
+      said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s my new puppy. Is not he a dear? I&rsquo;ll let you hold him,&rsquo; and she
+      attempted to deposit the fat, curly, satiny creature in Dolores&rsquo;s arms,
+      which instantly hung down stiff, as she answered, half in fright, &lsquo;I hate
+      dogs!&rsquo; The puppy fell down with a flop, and began to squeak, while the
+      girls, crying, &lsquo;Oh! Dolly, how could you!&rsquo; and &lsquo;Poor little pup!&rsquo; all
+      crowded round in pity and indignation, and Wilfred observed, &lsquo;I told you
+      so!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You&rsquo;ll get no change but that out of the Lady of the Rueful Countenance,&rsquo; 
+      said Jasper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie had for once nothing to say in Dolores&rsquo;s defence, being equally hurt
+      for Fly&rsquo;s sake and the puppy&rsquo;s. Dolores found herself virtually sent to
+      Coventry, as she accompanied the party across the paddock, only just near
+      enough to benefit by their protection from the herd of half-grown calves
+      which were there disporting themselves; and, as if to make the contrast
+      still more provoking, Fly, who had a natural affinity for all animals,
+      insisted on trying to attract them, calling, &lsquo;Sukkey! sukkey!&rsquo; and hold
+      out bunches of grass, in vain, for they only galloped away, and she could
+      only explain how tame those at home were, and how she went out farming
+      with daddy whenever he had time, and mother and Fraulein would let her
+      out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tree meantime came trundling down, a wonderful spectacle, with all its
+      gilt balls and fir-cones nodding and dangling wildly, and its other
+      embellishments turning upside down. There were greetings of delight at
+      Casement Cottage, and Miss Hacket had kissed everybody all round before
+      Gillian had time to present the new-comer, and then the good lady was
+      shocked at her own presumption, and exclaimed&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I beg your ladyship&rsquo;s pardon! Dear me! I had no notion who it was!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then please kiss me again now you do know!&rsquo; said Fly, holding up her
+      funny little face to that very lovable kind one, and they were all soon
+      absorbed in the difficulty of getting the tree in at the front door, and
+      setting it up in the room that had been prepared for it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores had hoped to confide her alarms to Constance&rsquo;s sympathetic ear,
+      but her friend, who had written and dreamt of many a magnificently titled
+      scion of the peerage, but had never before seen one in her own house, had
+      not a minute to spare for her, being far too much engrossed in observing
+      the habits of the animal. These certainly were peculiar, since she
+      insisted on a waltz round the room with the tabby cat, and ascended a
+      step-ladder, merrily spurning Jasper&rsquo;s protection, to insert the circle of
+      tapers on the crowning chandelier. There was nothing left for Dolores to
+      do but to sit by in the window-seat, philosophizing on the remarkable
+      effects of a handle to one&rsquo;s name, and feeling cruelly neglected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly she saw a fly coming up to the gate. There was a general peeping
+      and wondering. Then Uncle Reginald and a stranger got out and came up to
+      the door. There was a ring&mdash;everybody paused and wondered for a
+      moment; then the maid tapped at the door and said, &lsquo;Would Miss Mohun come
+      and speak to Colonel Mohun a minute in the drawing-room?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a hush of dread throughout the room. &lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; sighed Miss Hacket,
+      looking at Gillian, and all the elders thought without saying that some
+      terrible news of her father had to be told to the poor child. They let her
+      go, frightened at the summons, but that idea not occurring to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There!&rsquo; said Uncle Regie, &lsquo;she can set it straight. Don&rsquo;t be frightened,
+      my dear; only tell this gentleman whether that is your writing.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger held a strip so that she could only just see &lsquo;Dolores M.
+      Mohun,&rsquo; and she unhesitatingly answered &lsquo;Yes&rsquo;&mdash;very much surprised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are sure?&rsquo; said her uncle, in a tone of disappointment that made her
+      falter, as she added, &lsquo;I think so.&rsquo; At the same time the stranger turned
+      the paper round, and she knew it for the cheque that had so long resided
+      in her desk, but with dilated eyes, she exclaimed, &lsquo;But&mdash;but&mdash;that
+      was for seven pounds!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That,&rsquo; said the stranger, &lsquo;then, Miss Mohun, you know this draft?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only it was for seven,&rsquo; repeated Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You mean, I conclude, that it was drawn for seven pounds, and that it was
+      still for seven when it left your handy?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; muttered Dolores, who was beginning to get very much frightened, at
+      she knew not what, and to feel on her guard at all points.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There&rsquo;s nothing to be afraid of, my dear,&rsquo; said Uncle Reginald, tenderly;
+      &lsquo;nobody suspects you of anything. Only tell us. Did your father give you
+      this paper?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And when did you cash it?&rsquo; asked the clerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores hung her head. &lsquo;I didn&rsquo;t,&rsquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But how did it get out of your possession?&rsquo; said her uncle. &lsquo;You are sure
+      this is your own writing at the back. It could surely not have been stolen
+      from her?&rsquo; he added to the stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That could hardly be,&rsquo; said that person. &lsquo;Miss Mohun, you had better
+      speak out. To whom did you give this cheque?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a whirl of terror all round about Dolores, a horror of bringing
+      herself first, then Uncle Alfred, Constance, and everybody else into
+      trouble. She took refuge in uttering not a word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dolores,&rsquo; said her uncle, and his tone was now much more grave and less
+      tender, thus increasing her terror; &lsquo;this silence is of no use. Did you
+      give this cheque to Mr. Flinders?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the silence, the ticks of the clock on the mantel-piece seemed like a
+      hammer beating on her ears. Dolores thought of the morning&rsquo;s flat denial
+      of all intercourse with Flinders! Then the word give occurred to her as a
+      loophole, and her mind did not embrace all the consequences of the denial,
+      she only saw one thing at a time, &lsquo;I didn&rsquo;t give it,&rsquo; she answered, almost
+      inaudibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You did not give it?&rsquo; repeated her uncle, getting angry and speaking
+      loud. &lsquo;Then how did it get into his hands? Is there no truth in you?&rsquo; he
+      added, after a pause, which only terrified her more and more. &lsquo;Whom did
+      you give it to?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Constance!&rsquo; The word came out she hardly knew how, as something which at
+      least was true. Colonel Mohun knocked at the door of the room she had come
+      from. It was instantly opened, and Miss Hacket began, &lsquo;The poor dear! Can
+      I get anything for her, I am sure it is a terrible shock!&rsquo; and as he
+      stood, astonished, Gillian added, &lsquo;Oh! I see it isn&rsquo;t that. We were afraid
+      it was something about Uncle Maurice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, my dear, no such thing. Only would Miss Constance Hacket be kind
+      enough to come here a minute?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! My apron! My fingers! Excuse me for being such a figure!&rsquo; Constance
+      ran on, as Colonel Mohun made her come across to the room opposite, where
+      she looked about her in amazement. Was the stranger a publisher about to
+      make her an offer for the &lsquo;Waif of the Moorland.&rsquo; But Dolores&rsquo;s down-cast
+      attitude and set, sullen face forbade the idea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Miss Constance Hacket,&rsquo; said the colonel, &lsquo;here is an uncomfortable
+      matter in which we want your assistance. Will you kindly answer a question
+      or two from Mr. Ellis, the manager of the.... Bank?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the manager politely asked her if she had seen the cheque before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes&mdash;why&mdash;what&rsquo;s wrong about it? Oh! It is for seventy! Why,
+      Dolores, I thought it was only for seven?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was for seven when you parted with it, then, Miss Hacket,&rsquo; said the
+      manager; &lsquo;let me ask whether you changed it yourself?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;I sent it to&mdash;&rsquo; and there she came to a dead pause,
+      in alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you send it to Mr. Alfred Flinders?&rsquo; said Mr. Ellis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes&mdash;oh!&rsquo; another little scream, &lsquo;He can&rsquo;t have done it. He can&rsquo;t be
+      such a villain! Your own uncle, Dolores.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He is no uncle of Dolores Mohun!&rsquo; said the colonel. &lsquo;He is only the son
+      of her mother&rsquo;s step-mother by her first marriage.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Dolores, then you deceived me!&rsquo; exclaimed Constance; &lsquo;you told me he
+      was your own uncle, or I would never&mdash;and oh! my fifteen pounds.
+      Where is he?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That, madam,&rsquo; said Mr. Ellis, gravely, &lsquo;I hope the police may discover.
+      He has quitted Darminster after having cashed this cheque for seventy
+      pounds. We have already telegraphed to the police to be on the look out
+      for him, but I much fear that it will be too late.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! my fifteen pounds! What shall I do? Oh, Dolores, how could you? I
+      shall never trust any one again!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps Uncle Reginald felt the same, but he only darted a look upon his
+      niece, which she felt in every nerve, though to his eyes she only stood
+      hard and stolid. The manager, who found Constance&rsquo;s torrent of words as
+      hard to deal with as Dolores&rsquo;s silence, asked for pen and ink, and begged
+      to take down Miss Hacket&rsquo;s statement to lay before a magistrate in case of
+      Flinders&rsquo;s apprehension. It was not very easy to keep her to the point,
+      especially as her chief interest was in her own fifteen pounds, of which
+      Mr. Ellis only would say that she could prosecute the man for obtaining
+      money on false pretences, and this she trusted meant getting it back
+      again. As to the cheque in question, she told how Dolores had entrusted it
+      to her to send to her supposed uncle, Mr. Flinders, to whom it had been
+      promised the day they went to Darminster, and she was quite ready to
+      depose that when it left her hands, it was only for seven pounds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was all that the bank manager wanted. He thanked her, told Colonel
+      Mohun they should hear from him, and went off in a hurry, both to
+      communicate with the police, and to leave the young ladies to be dealt
+      with by their friends, who, he might well suppose, would rather that he
+      removed himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Put on your hat, Dolores,&rsquo; said Colonel Mohun, gravely; &lsquo;you had better
+      come home with me! Miss Hacket, excuse me, but I am afraid I must ask
+      whether you have been assisting in a correspondence between my niece and
+      this Flinders?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! Colonel Mohun, you will believe me, I was quite deceived. Dolores
+      represented that he was her uncle, to whom she was much attached, and that
+      Lady Merrifield separated her from him out of mere family prejudice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am afraid you have paid dearly for your sympathy,&rsquo; said the colonel.
+      &lsquo;It certainly led you far when you assisted your friend to deceive the
+      aunt who trusted you with her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The movement that was taking place seemed like licence to that roomful,
+      burning with curiosity to break out. Mysie was running after Dolores to
+      ask if she could do anything for her, but Colonel Mohun called her back
+      with &lsquo;Not now, Mysie.&rsquo; Miss Hacket came forward with agitated hopes that
+      nothing was amiss, and, at sight of her, Constance collapsed quite. &lsquo;Oh,
+      Mary,&rsquo; she cried out, &lsquo;I have been so deceived! Oh! that man!&rsquo; and she
+      sunk upon a chair in a violent fit of crying, which alarmed Miss Hacket so
+      dreadfully that she looked imploringly up to Colonel Mohun. He had meant
+      to have left Miss Constance to explain, but he saw it was necessary to
+      relieve the poor elder sister&rsquo;s mind from worse fears by saying, &lsquo;I am
+      afraid it is my niece who deceived her, by leading her into forwarding
+      letters and money to a person who calls himself a relation. He seems to
+      have been guilty of a forgery, which may have unpleasant consequences.
+      Children, I think you had better follow us home.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores had come down by this time, and Colonel Mohun walked home, at some
+      paces from her, very much as if he had been guarding a criminal under
+      arrest. Poor Uncle Reginald! He had put such absolute trust in the two
+      answers she had made him in the morning; and had been so sure of her good
+      faith, that when the manager brought word that the cheque had been traced
+      to Flinders, who had absconded, he still held that it was a barefaced
+      forgery, entirely due to Flinders himself, and that Dolores could show
+      that she had no knowledge of it, and he had gone down in the fly expecting
+      to come home triumphant, and confute his sister Jane, who persisted in
+      being mournfully sagacious. And he was indignant in proportion to the
+      confidence he had misplaced; grieved, too, for his brother&rsquo;s sake, and
+      absolutely ashamed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once he asked, when they were within the paddock, out of the way of
+      meeting any one, &lsquo;Have you nothing to say to me, Dolores?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not said in a manner to draw out an answer, and she made none at
+      all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he spoke, as they came near the house:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You had better go up to your room at once. I do not know how to think of
+      the blow this will be to your father.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was so entirely what Dolores was thinking of, that it seemed to her
+      barbarous to tell her of it In fact she was stunned, scarcely
+      understanding what had happened, and too proud and miserable to ask for an
+      explanation, for had not every one turned against her, even Uncle Reginald
+      and Constance&mdash;and what had happened to that cheque?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not see Uncle Reginald turn into the drawing-room, and letting
+      himself drop despairingly into an armchair, say, &lsquo;Well, Jane, you were
+      right, more&rsquo;s the pity!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She really gave him the cheque!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but at least it was only for seven. The rascal himself must have
+      altered it into seventy. She and the other girl both agree as to that.
+      There&rsquo;s been a clandestine correspondence going on with that scamp ever
+      since she has been here, under cover to that precious friend of hers&mdash;that
+      Hacket girl.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! you warned me, Jenny,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield &lsquo;But I&rsquo;m quite sure Miss
+      Hacket knew nothing of it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose she did. She seemed struck all of a heap. Any way they&rsquo;ve
+      quarrelled now; the other one has turned King&rsquo;s evidence&mdash;has lost
+      some money too, and says Dolores deceived her. She&rsquo;s deceived every one
+      all round, that&rsquo;s the fact. Why she told me two flat lies this very
+      morning&mdash;lies&mdash;there&rsquo;s no other name for it. What will you do
+      with her, Lily?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, utterly shocked, and recollecting,
+      but not mentioning, the falsehood told to her about the note. Lord
+      Rotherwood said, &lsquo;Poor child,&rsquo; and Colonel Mohun groaned, &lsquo;Poor Maurice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then she did go to Darminster?&rsquo; said Miss Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes; that came out from this Miss Constance, who seems to have been
+      properly taken in about some publishing trash. Serve her right! But it
+      seems Dolores beguiled her with stories about her dear uncle in distress.
+      We left her nearly in hysterics, and I told the children to come away.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What does Dolores say?&rsquo; asked Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nothing! I could not get a word out of her after the first surprise at
+      the alteration of the cheque. Not a word nor a tear. She is as hard&mdash;as
+      hard as a bit of stone.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Really,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t help thinking there&rsquo;s a good deal
+      of excuse for her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What? That poor Maurice&rsquo;s wife was half a heathen, and afterwards the
+      girl was left to chance?&rsquo; said Colonel Mohun. &lsquo;I see no other. And you,
+      Lily, are the last person I should expect to excuse untruth.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I did not mean to do that, Regie; but you all say that poor Mary was fond
+      of this man and helped him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That she did!&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood, &lsquo;and very much against the grain it
+      went with Maurice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then don&rsquo;t you see that this poor child, who probably never had the
+      matter explained to her, may have felt it a great hardship to be cut off
+      from the man her mother taught her to care for; and that may have led her
+      into concealments?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well!&rsquo; said Colonel Mohun, &lsquo;at that rate, at least one may be thankful
+      never to have married.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One&mdash;or two, Regie?&rsquo; said Jane, as they all laughed at his sally. &lsquo;I
+      think I had better go up and see whether I can get anything out of the
+      child. Do you mean to have her down to dinner, Lily,&rsquo; she added, glancing
+      at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, certainly. I don&rsquo;t want to put her to disgrace before all the
+      children and servants&mdash;that is, if she is not crying herself out of
+      condition to appear, poor child.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not she,&rsquo; said Uncle Reginald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On opening the door, the children were all discovered in the hall, in
+      anxious curiosity, not venturing in uncalled, but very much puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian came forward and said, &lsquo;Mamma, may we know what is the matter?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hardly understand it myself yet, my dear, only that Dolores and
+      Constance Hacket have let themselves be taken in by a sort of relation of
+      Dolores&rsquo;s mother, and Uncle Maurice has lost a good deal of money through
+      it. It would not have happened if there had been fair and upright dealing
+      towards me; but we do not know the rights of it, and you had better take
+      no notice of it to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought,&rsquo; said Valetta, sagaciously, &lsquo;no good could come of running
+      after that stupid Miss Constance.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Who can&rsquo;t pull a cracker, and screams at a daddy long-legs,&rsquo; added
+      Fergus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But, mamma, what shall we do?&rsquo; said Gillian. &lsquo;I came away because Uncle
+      Regie told us, and Constance was crying so terribly; but what is poor Miss
+      Hacket to do? There is the tree only half dressed, and all the girls
+      coming to-night, unless she puts them off.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, you had better go down alone as soon as dinner is over, and see what
+      she would like,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;We must not leave her in the
+      lurch, as if we cast her off, though I am afraid Constance has been very
+      foolish in this matter. Oh, Gillian, I wish we could have made Dolores
+      happier amongst us, and then this would not have happened.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She would never let us, mamma,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mysie, coming up close to her mother as they all went up the broad
+      staircase to prepare for the midday meal, confessed in a grave little
+      voice, &lsquo;Mamma, I think I have sometimes been cross to Dolly-more lately,
+      because it has been so very tiresome.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield drew the little girl into her own room, stooped down, and
+      kissed her, saying, &lsquo;My dear child, these things need a great deal of
+      patience. You will have to be doubly kind and forbearing now, for she must
+      be very unhappy, and perhaps not like to show it. You might say a little
+      prayer for her, that God will help us to be kind to her, and soften her
+      heart.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, mamma; and, please, will you set it down for me?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, my dear, and for myself too. You shall have it before bed-time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jane had followed Dolores to her own room the girl, who was sitting
+      on her bed, dazed, regretted that she had not bolted her door, as her aunt
+      entered with the words, &lsquo;Oh, Dolores, I am very sorry I could not have
+      thought you would so have abused the confidence that was placed in you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this Dolores did not answer. To her mind she was the person ill-used by
+      the prohibition of correspondence, but she could not say so. Every one was
+      falling on her; but Aunt Jane&rsquo;s questions could not well help being
+      answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What will your father think of if?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He never forbade me to write to Uncle Alfred&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Because he never thought of your doing such a thing. Did he give you this
+      cheque?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For yourself?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;N-n-o. But it was the same.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What do you mean by that?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was to pay a man&mdash;a man&rsquo;s that&rsquo;s dead.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That may be; but what right did that give you to spend the money
+      otherwise? Who was the man?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Professor Muhlwasser, for some books of plates.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How do you know he is dead! Who told you so? Eh! Was it Flinders? Ah! you
+      see what comes of trusting to an unprincipled man like that. If you had
+      only been open and straightforward with Aunt Lily, or with any of us, you
+      would have been saved from this tissue of falsehood; forfeiting your Uncle
+      Reginald&rsquo;s good opinion, and enabling Flinders to do your father this
+      great injury.&rsquo; She paused, and, as Dolores made no answer, she went on
+      again&mdash;&lsquo;Indeed, there is no saying what you have not brought on
+      yourself by your deceit and disobedience. If Flinders is apprehended, you
+      will have to appear against him in court, and publicly avow that you gave
+      away what your father trusted to you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores gave a little moan and start, and her aunt, perceiving that she
+      had touched an apparently vulnerable spot, proceeded&mdash;&lsquo;The only thing
+      left for you to do is to tell the whole story frankly and honestly. I
+      don&rsquo;t say so only for the sake of showing Aunt Lily that you are sorry for
+      having abused her confidence. I wish I could think that you are; but,
+      unless we know all, we cannot shield you from any further consequences,
+      and that of course we should wish to do, for your father&rsquo;s sake.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not feel drawn to confession, but she knew that when Aunt Jane
+      once set herself to ask questions, there was no use in trying to conceal
+      anything. So she made answers, chiefly &lsquo;Yes&rsquo; or No,&rsquo; and her aunt, by
+      severe and diligent pumping, had extracted bit by bit what it was most
+      essential should be known, before the gong summoned them. Dolores would
+      rather have been a solitary prisoner, able to chafe against oppression,
+      than have been obliged to come down and confront everybody; but she crept
+      into the place left for her between Mysie and Wilfred. She had very little
+      appetite, and never found out how Mysie was fulfilling her resolution of
+      kindness by baulking Wilfred of sundry attempts to tease; by substituting
+      her own kissing-crust for Dolly&rsquo;s more unpoetical piece of bread; and
+      offering to exchange her delicious strawberry-jam tartlet for the
+      black-currant one at which her cousin was looking with reluctant eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie and Valetta were grievously exercised about their chances of
+      returning to the G.F.S. Tree. Indeed Gillian went the length of telling
+      them that Fly was behaving far better in her disappointment as to the
+      Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball than they were as to this &lsquo;old second-hand tree.&rsquo; Fly
+      laughed and observed, &lsquo;Dear me, things one would like are always being
+      stopped. If one was to mind every time, how horrid it would be! And
+      there&rsquo;s always something to make up!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then it occurred to Gillian, though not to her younger sisters, that Lady
+      Phyllis Devereux lived in general a much less indulged, and more
+      frequently disappointed, life than did herself and her sisters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, there was great delight at that dinner-table. Jasper had ridden
+      to get the letters of the second post, and Lord Rotherwood had his hands
+      and his head full of them when he came in to luncheon&mdash;there being
+      what Lady Merrifield called a respectable dinner in view. In the first
+      place. Lord Ivinghoe was getting on very well, and was up, sitting by the
+      fire, playing patience. Nobody was catching the measles, and quarantine
+      would be over on the 9th of January. Secondly, &lsquo;Fly, shall you be very
+      broken-hearted if I tell you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, daddy, you wouldn&rsquo;t look like that if it was anything very bad! Lion
+      isn&rsquo;t dead?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; but I grieve to say your unnatural grand-parents don&rsquo;t want you!
+      Grandmamma is nervous about having you without mamma. What did we do last
+      time we were there, Fly?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you remember, daddy? they said there was nothing for me to ride to
+      the meet, and you and Griffin put the side-saddle on Crazy Kate, and we
+      went out with the hounds, and I&rsquo;ve got the brush up in my room!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t wonder grandmamma is nervous,&rsquo; observed Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Will you be nervous, Lily,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood, &lsquo;if this same flyaway
+      mortal is left on your hands till the 9th?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dinner, manners, silence before company, and all, could not repress a
+      general scream of ecstacy, which called forth the reply. &lsquo;I should think
+      you and her mother were the people to be nervous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! my lady has been duly instructed in Merrifield perfections, and
+      esteems you a model mother.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The children&rsquo;s nods and smiles said &lsquo;Hear, hear!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, you&rsquo;ve got it all in her own letter,&rsquo; continued Lord Rotherwood.
+      &lsquo;You see, they&rsquo;ve got a caucus at High Court, and a dinner, and I must go
+      up there on Monday; but if you&rsquo;ll keep this dangerous Fly&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I can answer for the pleasure it will give,&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well then, I&rsquo;ll come back for her by the 9th, and you&rsquo;ve Victoria&rsquo;s
+      letter, haven&rsquo;t you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, it is very kind of her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then I shall expect you to be ready to start with me for the Butterfly&rsquo;s
+      Ball. Eh, young ladies, what will you come out as?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh daddy, daddy, is it? Has mamma asked them? Oh! it is more delicious
+      than anything ever was. Mysie, Mysie, what will you be?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The sly little dormouse crept out of his hole,&rsquo; quoted Mysie, in a very
+      low, happy voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I will be a jolly old frog,&rsquo; shouted Fergus, finding the ordinance of
+      silence broken and making the most of it, on the presumption that the
+      whole family were invited. However, the tone, rather than the
+      uncomprehended words of his mother&rsquo;s answer, &lsquo;Nobody asked you, sir,&rsquo; she
+      said, reduced him to silence, and it became understood, through Fly&rsquo;s
+      inquiries, that the invitation included Lady Merrifield must make her
+      acceptance doubtful. And besides, the question which three were to go was
+      the unspoken drawback to full bliss, and yet the delight was exceedingly
+      great in the prospect, great enough to make the contrast of gloom in poor
+      Dolores&rsquo;s spirit all the darker, as she sat, left out of everything, and
+      she could not now say, with absolute injustice, though she still clung to
+      the belief that there was more misfortune than fault in her disgrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She crept away, shivering with unhappiness, to the schoolroom, while the
+      others frisked off discussing the wonderful Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball. Lady
+      Merrifield looked in on her, and she hardened herself to endure either
+      another probing or fresh reproaches, but all she heard was, &lsquo;My dear, I
+      cannot talk over this sad affair now, as I have to go out. But, if you
+      can, I think you had better write to your father about it, and let him
+      understand exactly how it happened. Or, if you had rather write than speak
+      in explaining it to me, you can do so, and we can consider tomorrow what
+      is to be done about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then she went out with her brother and cousin to drive to some Industrial
+      schools which Lord Rotherwood wanted to see.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. &mdash; THE BUTTERFLY&rsquo;S BALL.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Mohun went to the Casement Cottages with Gillian to see what the
+      elder Miss Hacket might wish and whether they could be of use to her; the
+      young people being left to exercise themselves within call in case the
+      Tree was to be continued.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This proved to be an act of great kindness, for poor Mary Hacket was
+      suffering all the distress of an upright and honourable woman at her
+      sister&rsquo;s abuse of confidence; and had felt as if Colonel Mohun&rsquo;s summons
+      to his nieces was the close of all intimacy with such an unworthy
+      household. Moreover, the evenings entertainment could not be given up and
+      Gillian was despatched to summon the eager assistants, while Aunt Jane
+      repeated her assurances that Lady Merrifield perfectly understood Miss
+      Hacket&rsquo;s ignorance of the doings in Constance&rsquo;s room&mdash;listening
+      patiently even when the tender-hearted woman began to excuse her sister
+      for having accepted Dolores&rsquo;s lamentations at being cut off from her
+      so-called uncle. &lsquo;Dear Connie is so romantic, and so easily touched,&rsquo; she
+      said, &lsquo;though, of course, it was very wrong of her to suppose that Lady
+      Merrifield could do anything harsh or unkind. She is in great grief now,
+      poor darling, she feels so bitterly that her friend led her into it by
+      deceiving her about the relationship and character.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This, Aunt Jane did not think the worst part of the affair, and she said
+      that the girl had been brought up to call the man Uncle Alfred, and very
+      possibly did not understand that he was only so by courtesy, nor that he
+      was so utterly untrustworthy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought so,&rsquo; said Mary Hacket. &lsquo;I told Connie that such a child could
+      not possibly have been a willing party to his fraud&mdash;for fraud, I
+      fear, it was&mdash;Miss Mohun. Do you think there is any hope of her
+      recovering the sum she advanced.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am afraid there is not, even if the wretched man is apprehended.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! if she had only told me what she wanted it for!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hope it was all her own.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Miss Mohun, no doubt you know that two sisters living together must
+      accommodate one another a little, and Connie&rsquo;s dress expenses, at her age,
+      are necessarily more than mine. But here come the dear children, and we
+      ought to dismiss all painful subjects, though I declare I am so nervous I
+      hardly know what I am about.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, by Miss Mohun&rsquo;s help, the good lady rose to the occasion, and
+      when once busy, the trouble was thrown off, so that no guests would have
+      detected how unhappy she had been in the forenoon. Constance soon came
+      down, and confided to Gillian a parcel directed to Miss D. Mohun,
+      containing all the notes written to her, and all the books lent to her, by
+      the false friend whom she had cast off, after which she threw herself into
+      the interests of the present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The London ornaments, and the residue of the gifts and bonbons, made the
+      Christmas-tree a most memorable one to the G.F.S. mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to Fly, she fraternized to a great extent with a very small maid, in a
+      very long, brown dress, and very thick boots, who did not taste a single
+      bonbon, and being asked whether she understood that they were good to eat,
+      replied that she was keeping them for &lsquo;our Bertie and Minnie;&rsquo; and, on
+      encouragement, launched into such a description of her charges&mdash;the
+      blacksmith&rsquo;s small children&mdash;that Lady Phyllis went back, not without
+      regrets that she could not be a little nurse who had done with school at
+      twelve years old, and spent her days at the back of a perambulator.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, daddy,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;I do wish you had come down; it was such lovely
+      fun&mdash;the best tree I ever saw. Why wouldn&rsquo;t you come?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If thirty odd years should pass over that little head of yours, my Lady
+      Fly, and you should then meet with Mysie and Val, maybe you will then
+      learn the reason why.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We will recollect that in thirty years&rsquo; time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When our children go to a Christmas-tree.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And we sit over the fire instead.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but should we ever not care for a dear, delightful Christmas-tree?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;If we had each other instead.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then we would all go still together!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And tell our little boys and girls all about this one, and the
+      Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps our husbands would want us, and not let us go.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! I don&rsquo;t want a husband. He&rsquo;d be in the way. We&rsquo;d send him off to
+      India or somewhere, like Aunt Lily&rsquo;s.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t, Fly; it is not at all nice to have papa away.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, it would be ten hundred times better if he were at home.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Such were the mingled sentiments of the triad, as they went upstairs to
+      bed, linked together in their curious fashion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some time later, a bedroom discussion of affairs was held by Lady
+      Merrifield and Miss Mohun, who had not had a moment alone together all
+      day, to converse upon the two versions of the disaster which the latter
+      had extracted from Dolores and Constance, and which fairly agreed, though
+      Constance had been by far the most voluble, and somewhat ungenerously
+      violent against her former friend, at least so Lady Merrifield remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You should take into account the authoress&rsquo;s disappointed vanity.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, poor thing! How he must have nattered her!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Besides, there is the loss of the money, which, I fear, falls as
+      seriously on good Miss Hacket as on the goose herself.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Does it, indeed? That must not be. How much is it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Fifteen pounds; and that foolish Constance fancies that poor Dolores
+      assisted in duping her. I really had to defend the girl; though I am just
+      as angry myself when I watch her adamantine sullenness.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am the person to be angry with for having allowed the intimacy, in
+      spite of your warnings, Jenny.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You were too innocent to know what girls are made of. Oh yes, you are
+      very welcome to have six of your own, but you might have six dozen without
+      knowing what a girl brought up at a second-rate boarding-school is capable
+      of, or what it is to have had no development of conscience. What shall you
+      do? send her to school?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;After that recommendation of yours?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I didn&rsquo;t propose a second-rate boarding-school, ma&rsquo;am. There&rsquo;s a High
+      School starting after the holidays at Rockstone. Let me have her, and send
+      her there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ada would not like it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never mind Ada, I&rsquo;ll settle her. I would keep Dolly well up to her
+      lessons, and prevent these friendships.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I suppose you would manage her better than I have been able to do,&rsquo; said
+      Lady Merrifield, reluctantly. &lsquo;Yet I should like to try again; I don&rsquo;t
+      want to let her go. Is it the old story of duty and love, Jane? Have I
+      failed again through negligence and ignorance, and deceived myself by
+      calling weakness and blindness love?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t fail with your own, Lily. Rotherwood runs about admiring them,
+      and saying he never saw a better union of freedom and obedience. It was
+      really a treat to see Gillian&rsquo;s ways tonight; she had so much
+      consideration, and managed her sisters so well.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah, but there&rsquo;s their father! I do so dread spoiling them for him before
+      he comes home; but then he is a present influence with us all the time.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They would all clap their hands if I carried Dolly off.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, and that is one reason I don&rsquo;t want to give her up; it seems so sad
+      to send Maurice&rsquo;s child away leaving such an impression. One thing I am
+      thankful for, that it will be all over before grandmamma and Bessie
+      Merrifield come.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a small figure appeared
+      in a scarlet robe, bare feet, and dishevelled hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mysie, dear child! What&rsquo;s the matter? who is ill?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, please come, mamma, Dolly is choking and crying in such a dreadful
+      way, and I can&rsquo;t stop her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I give up, Lily. This is mother-work,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hurrying upstairs, Lady Merrifield found very distressing sounds issuing
+      from Dolores&rsquo;s room; sobs, not loud, but almost strangled into a perfect
+      agony of choking down by the resolute instinct, for it was scarcely will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, my dear, don&rsquo;t stop it!&rsquo; she exclaimed, lifting up the girl in
+      her arms. &lsquo;Let it out; cry freely; never mind. She will be better soon,
+      Mysie dear. Only get me a glass of water, and find a fresh handkerchief.
+      There, there, that&rsquo;s right!&rsquo; as Dolores let herself lean on the kind
+      breast, and conscious that the utmost effects of the disturbance had come,
+      allowed her long-drawn sobs to come freely, and moaned as they shook her
+      whole frame, though without screaming. Her aunt propped her up on her own
+      bosom, parted back her hair, kissed her, and saying she was getting
+      better, sent Mysie back to her bed. The first words that were gasped out
+      between the rending sobs were, &lsquo;Oh! is my&mdash;he&mdash;to be tried?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Most likely not, my dear. He has had full time to get away, and I hope it
+      is so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But wasn&rsquo;t he there? Haven&rsquo;t they got him? Weren&rsquo;t they asking me about
+      him, and saying I must be tried for stealing father&rsquo;s cheque?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You were dreaming, my poor child. They have not taken him, and I am quite
+      sure you will not be tried anyway.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They said&mdash;Aunt Jane and Uncle Reginald and all, and &lsquo;that dreadful
+      man that came&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps they said you might have to be examined, but only if he is
+      apprehended, and I fully expect that he is out of reach, so that you need
+      not frighten yourself about that, my dear.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t go!&rsquo; cried Dolores, as her aunt stirred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I&rsquo;m not going. I was only reaching some water for you. Let me sponge
+      your face.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this Dolores submitted gratefully, and then sighed, as if under heavy
+      oppression, &lsquo;And did he really do it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am afraid he must have done so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I never thought it. Mother always helped him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, my dear, that made it very hard for you to know what was right to
+      do, and this is a most terrible shock for you,&rsquo; said her aunt, feeling
+      unable to utter another reproach just then to one who had been so loaded
+      with blame, and she was touched the more when Dolores moaned, &lsquo;Mother
+      would have cared so much.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She answered with a kiss, was glad to find her hand still held, and forgot
+      that it was past eleven o&rsquo;clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Please, will it quite ruin father?&rsquo; asked Dolores, who had not outgrown
+      childish confusion about large sums of money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not exactly, my dear. It was more than he had in the bank, and Uncle
+      Regie thinks the bankers will undertake part of the loss if he will let
+      them. It is more inconvenient than ruinous.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; There was a faintness and oppression in the sound which made Lady
+      Merrifield think the girl ought not to be left, and before long, sickness
+      came on. Nurse Halfpenny had to be called up, and it was one o&rsquo;clock
+      before there was a quiet, comfortable sleep, which satisfied the aunt and
+      nurse that it was safe to repair to their own beds again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dreary, undefined self-reproach and vague alarms, intensified by the
+      sullen, reserved temper, and culminating in such a shock, alienating the
+      only persons she cared for, and filling her with terror for the future,
+      could not but have a physical effect, and Dolores was found on the morrow
+      with a bad head-ache, and altogether in a state to be kept in bed, with a
+      fire in her room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian and Mysie were much impressed by the intelligence of their
+      cousin&rsquo;s illness when they came to their mother&rsquo;s room on the way to
+      breakfast, and Mysie turned to her sister, saying, &lsquo;There Gill, you see
+      she did care, though she didn&rsquo;t cry like us. Being ill is more than
+      crying.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;it is a good deal more than such things as you and
+      Val cry for, Mysie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was a trial such as you don&rsquo;t understand, my dears,&rsquo; said Lady
+      Merrifield. &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t, of course, excuse much that she did, but she had
+      been used to see her mother make every exertion to help the man.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That does make a difference,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;but she shouldn&rsquo;t have taken
+      her father&rsquo;s money. And wasn&rsquo;t it dreadful of Constance to smuggle her
+      letters? I&rsquo;m quite glad Constance gets part of the punishment.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Certainly, that might be just, Gillian, but unfortunately the loss falls
+      infinitely more heavily upon Miss Hacket, who cannot afford the loss at
+      all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh dear!&rsquo; cried Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m very sorry,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And, my dear girls, in all honour and honesty, we must make it up to
+      her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t we save it out of our allowance?&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Sixpence a month from you, a shilling perhaps from Gill, how long would
+      that take? No, my dear girls, I am going to put you to a heavy trial.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, mamma, don&rsquo;t!&rsquo; cried Gillian, seeing what she was driving at. &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t
+      give up the Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t!&rsquo; implored Mysie, tears starting in her eyes. &lsquo;We never saw a
+      costume ball, and Fly wishes it so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I thought you had promised,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Cousin Rotherwood assumes that I did; but I did not really accept. I told
+      him I could not tell, for you know your Grandmamma Merrifield talked of
+      coming here, and I cannot put her off. And now I see that it must be given
+      up.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It need only be calico!&rsquo; sighed Gillian, sticking pins in and out of the
+      pincushion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Fancy dresses even in calico are very expensive. Besides, I could not go
+      to a place like Rotherwood without at least two new dresses, and it is not
+      right to put papa to more expense.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, mamma! couldn&rsquo;t you? You always do look nicer than any one,&rsquo; said
+      Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I am afraid nothing I have at present would be suitable for a
+      General&rsquo;s wife at Lady Rotherwood&rsquo;s party, and we must think of what would
+      be fitting both towards our hostess and papa. Don&rsquo;t you see?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! your velvet dress!&rsquo; sighed Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My poor old faithful state apparel,&rsquo; smiled Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;Poor Gill,
+      you did not think again to have to mourn for it, but I don&rsquo;t know that
+      even that could have been sufficiently revivified, though it was my cheval
+      de bataille for so many years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s black velvet of many years&rsquo; usefulness, had been put
+      on for her p.p.c. party at Belfast, when Gillian, in abetting Jasper in
+      roasting chestnuts over a paraffin-lamp, had set herself and the
+      tablecloth on fire, and had been extinguished with such damages as singed
+      hair, a scar on Jasper&rsquo;s hands, and the destruction of her mother&rsquo;s &lsquo;front
+      breadth.&rsquo; There had been such relief and thankfulness at its being no
+      worse that the &lsquo;state apparel&rsquo; had not been much mourned, especially as
+      the remains made a charming pelisse for Primrose; and in the retirement of
+      Silverton, it had not been missed till the present occasion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do gowns cost so very much?&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed they do, my poor Mouse. The lamented cost more than twenty pounds.
+      I had been thinking whether I could afford the requisite garments&mdash;not
+      quite so costly&mdash;and thought I might get them for about sixteen, with
+      contrivance; but you see I feel it my fault that I let Dolores go and lead
+      Constance to get cheated, and I cannot take the money out of what papa
+      gives for household expenses and your education, so it must come out of my
+      own personal allowance. Don&rsquo;t you see?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ye&mdash;es,&rsquo; said Gillian, apparently intent on getting a big,
+      black-headed pin repeatedly into the same hole, while Mysie was trying
+      with all her might not to cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are thinking it is very hard that you should suffer for Dolly&rsquo;s
+      faults. Perhaps it is, but such things may often happen to you, my dears.
+      Christians bear them well for love&rsquo;s sake, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And it is a little my fault,&rsquo; said Gillian, thoughtfully; &lsquo;for it was I
+      that let the chestnut fall into the lamp.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&mdash;I don&rsquo;t think I should have minded so much,&rsquo; said Mysie, almost
+      crying, &lsquo;if we had done it our own selves&mdash;and Fly too&mdash;for some
+      very poor woman in the snow.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I know that very well, Mysie, and this is a much harder trial, as you
+      don&rsquo;t get the honour and glory of it; and, besides, you will have to take
+      care to say not a word of this reason to Fly or Valetta, or any one else.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Val will be awfully disappointed,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poor Val! But I should not have taken her anyway, so that matters the
+      less. I should have taken Jasper, for that would have been more convenient
+      than so many girls. In fact, I did not mean anybody to have heard of it
+      till I had made up my mind, so that there would have been no
+      disappointment; but that naughty Cousin Rotherwood could not keep it to
+      himself; and so, my poor maidens, you have to bear it with a good grace,
+      and to be treated as my confidential friends.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie smiled and kissed her mother&mdash;Gillian cleared somewhat, but
+      observing, &lsquo;I only wish it wasn&rsquo;t clothes;&rsquo; tried to dismiss the subject
+      as the gong began to sound, but Mysie caught her mother&rsquo;s dress, and said,
+      &lsquo;Mayn&rsquo;t I tell Fly, for a great secret?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, my dear, certainly not. Fly is a dear little girl, but we don&rsquo;t know
+      how she can keep secrets, and it would never do to let the Rotherwoods
+      know; papa and Uncle William would be exceedingly annoyed. And only think
+      of Miss Hacket&rsquo;s feelings if it came round. It will be hard enough to get
+      her to take it now.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps she won&rsquo;t,&rsquo; flashed into the minds of both girls; but Mysie said
+      entreatingly, &lsquo;One moment more, mamma, please! What can I say to Fly that
+      will be the truth?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Say that I find we cannot go, and that I had never promised,&rsquo; said Lady
+      Merrifield. &lsquo;I trust you, my dears.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as she opened the door to hurry down to prayers, the two sisters felt
+      the words very precious and inspiriting. Mysie lingered on the step and
+      bravely asked Gillian whether her eyes looked like crying&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, only a little twinkly,&rsquo; answered the elder sister; &lsquo;they will be all
+      right after prayers if you don&rsquo;t rub them.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I won&rsquo;t, said Mysie; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll try to mean &lsquo;Thy will be done.&rsquo; For I
+      suppose it is His will, though it is mamma&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m glad you thought of that, Mysie,&rsquo; said Gillian; &lsquo;you see it is
+      mamma&rsquo;s goodness.&rsquo; And Gillian added to herself, &ldquo;dear little Mysie too.
+      If it had not been for her, I believe I should have &lsquo;grizzled&rsquo; all
+      prayer-time, and now I hope I shall attend instead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When everybody rose up from their knees, Lady Merrifield was glad to see
+      two fairly cheerful faces. She tried to lessen the responsibility of the
+      confidants, and to get the matter settled by telling Lord Rotherwood at
+      once and publicly that she had thought his kind invitation over, and that
+      she found she must not accept it. Perhaps she warily took the moment after
+      she had seen the postman coming up the drive, for he had only time to say,
+      &lsquo;Now, that&rsquo;s too bad, Lily, you don&rsquo;t mean it,&rsquo; and she to answer, &lsquo;Yes,
+      in sad earnest, I do,&rsquo; before the letters came in, and the attention of
+      the elders was taken off by the distribution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Valetta whispered to Gillian, &lsquo;Not going; oh why?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; never mind, you wouldn&rsquo;t have gone, anyway&mdash;hush&mdash;&rsquo; said
+      Gillian, beginning, it may be, a little sharply, but then becoming
+      dismayed as Valetta, perhaps a little unhinged by the late pleasures,
+      burst forth into such a fit of crying as made everybody look up, and her
+      mother tell her to go away if she could not behave better. Gillian,
+      understanding a sign of the head as permission, led her away, hearing Lord
+      Rotherwood observe,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There, you cruel party!&rsquo; before again becoming absorbed in his letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh dear!&rsquo; sighed Fly, turning to Mysie as they rose from table, &lsquo;I am so
+      sorry! It would have been so nice; and I thought we were safe, as mamma
+      had written herself!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! but my mamma hadn&rsquo;t accepted,&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Phyllis seemed to take this as final, and sighed, but Mysie presently
+      exclaimed, &lsquo;I say! can&rsquo;t we all play at Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball in the hall after
+      lessons?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Lessons?&rsquo; said Fly; &lsquo;but it&rsquo;s holiday-time?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma always makes us do a sort of little lesson, even in the holidays,
+      as she says we get naughty. But I suppose you need not; and perhaps she
+      will not make us now you are here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Colonel Mohun and Lord Rotherwood were going to Darminster to see what was
+      the state of the investigation about Mr. Flinders. They set out directly
+      after breakfast, and after the feeding of the pets, where Valetta joined
+      them, much consoled by the prospect of the extemporary Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball at
+      home, Lady Phyllis, with her usual ready adaptability, repaired with the
+      others to the schoolroom, where the Psalms and Lessons were read, and a
+      small amount of French reading in turn from &lsquo;En Quarantaine&rsquo; followed,
+      with accompaniment of needlework or drawing, after which the children were
+      free.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jane was going home to her Sunday school and the Rockstone
+      festivities. She came down for her final talk with her sister just in time
+      to perceive the folding up of three five-pound notes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Lily,&rsquo; she said, with instant perception, &lsquo;I could beat myself for what I
+      told you yesterday.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield laughed. &lsquo;The girls are very good about it!&rsquo; she said.
+      &lsquo;Now you have found it out, see whether that note will make Miss Hacket
+      swallow it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t be better! But oh. Lily, it is disgusting! Could not I rig up
+      something fanciful for the children?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s not so much the point. &lsquo;The General&rsquo;s lady,&rsquo; as Mrs. Halfpenny
+      would say, is bound not to look like &lsquo;ane scrub,&rsquo; as she would be
+      unwelcome to Victoria, and what would be William&rsquo;s feelings? I could
+      hardly have accomplished it even with this, and the catastrophe settles
+      the matter.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You could not get into my black satin?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I thank you, my dear little Brownie,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield,
+      elongating herself like a girl measuring heights.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ada has a larger assortment, as well as a taller person,&rsquo; continued Miss
+      Jane, &lsquo;but then they are rather &lsquo;henspeckle,&rsquo; and they have all made their
+      first appearance at Rotherwood.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no, thank you, my dear, Jasper would not like the notion&mdash;even
+      if there was not more of me than of Ada. I have no doubt it is much better
+      for us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Should you have liked it, Lily?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For once in a way. For Rotherwood&rsquo;s sake, dear old fellow. Yes, I
+      should.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah, well! You are a bit of a grande dame yourself. Ada enjoys it, too, or
+      I don&rsquo;t think I ever should go there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Surely Victoria behaves well to you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Far be it from me to say she is not exemplary in her perfect civility to
+      all her husband&rsquo;s relations. Ada thinks her charming; but oh. Lily, you&rsquo;ve
+      never found out what it is to be a little person in a great person&rsquo;s
+      house, and to feel one&rsquo;s self scrupulously made one of the family, because
+      her husband is so much attached to all of them. There&rsquo;s nothing
+      spontaneous about it! I dare say you would get on better, though You are
+      not a country-town old maid; you would have an air of the world and of
+      distinction even if you went in your old grey poplin.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, I thought better of my lady.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You ought not! She makes great efforts, I am sure, and is a pattern of
+      graciousness and cordiality&mdash;only that&rsquo;s just what riles one, when
+      one knows one is just as well born, and all the rest of it. And then I&rsquo;m
+      provided with the clever men, and the philanthropical folk to talk to. I
+      know it&rsquo;s a great compliment, and they are very nice, but I&rsquo;d ten times
+      rather take my chance among them. However, now I&rsquo;ve made the grapes sour
+      for you, what do you think about Dolores? Will you send her to us?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not immediately, at any rate, dear Jane. It is very kind in you to wish
+      to take her off our hands, but I do want to try her a little longer. I
+      thought she seemed to be softening last night.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She was as hard as ever when I went in to wish her good-bye.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought she had too much headache for conversation when I went in last;
+      I think this is a regular upset from unhappiness and reserve.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Alias temper and deceitfulness.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Something of both. You know the body often suffers when things are not
+      thrown out in a wholesome explosion at once, but go simmering on; and I
+      mean to let this poor child alone till she is well.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! here comes the pony-carriage. Well, Lily, send her to me if you
+      repent.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sisters came out to find the Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball in full action. Fly had
+      become a Butterfly by the help of a battered pair of fairy wings,
+      stretched on wire, which were part of the theatrical stock. &lsquo;The shy
+      little Dormouse&rsquo; was creeping about on all fours under a fur jacket, with
+      a dilapidated boa for a long tail, but her &lsquo;blind brother the Mole&rsquo; had
+      escaped from her, and had been transformed into the Frog, by means of a
+      spotted handkerchief over his back, and tremendous leap-frog jumps.
+      Primrose, in another pair of fairy wings, was personating the Dragon-fly
+      and all his relations, &lsquo;green, orange, and blue.&rsquo; Valetta, in perfect
+      content with the present, with a queer pair of ears, and a tail made of an
+      old brush, sat up and nibbled as Squirrel. The Grasshopper was performing
+      antics which made him not easily distinguishable from the Frog, and the
+      Spider was actually descending by a rope from the balusters, while his
+      mother, standing somewhat aghast, breathed a hope that &lsquo;poor Harlequin&rsquo;s&rsquo; 
+      fall was not part of the programme. But she did not interfere, having
+      trust in the gymnastics that were studied at school by Jasper, who had
+      been beguiled into the game by Fly&rsquo;s fascinations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A far more realistic performance than the Rotherwood Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball is
+      likely to be,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane, aside, as the various guests came up for
+      her departing kiss. &lsquo;And much more entertaining, if they could only think
+      so. Where&rsquo;s Gillian?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian appeared on the stairs in her own person at the moment. She said
+      Mrs. Halfpenny had called her, and told her that &lsquo;Miss Dollars&rsquo; was
+      crying, and that she did not think the child ought to be left alone long
+      to fret herself, but Saturday morning needments called away nurse herself,
+      so she had ordered in Miss Gillian as her substitute. Gillian was reading
+      to her, and had only come away to make her farewells to Aunt Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is right, my dear,&rsquo; said her mother; &lsquo;I will come and sit with her
+      after luncheon.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the whole youthful family were to turn out to superintend the
+      replantation of the much-enduring fir, which, it was hoped, might survive
+      for many another Christmas.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, Lady Merrifield could not keep her promise, for a whole party of
+      visitors arrived just after the children&rsquo;s dinner was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And it&rsquo;s old Mrs. Norgood,&rsquo; sighed Gillian, looking over the balusters,
+      &lsquo;and she always slays for ages!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One of you young ladies must bide with Miss Dollars,&rsquo; said Nurse
+      Halfpenny, decidedly, &lsquo;or we shall have her fretting herself ill again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, nursie, can&rsquo;t you?&rsquo; entreated Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Me, Miss Gillian! How can I, when Miss Primrose is going out with the
+      whole clamjamfrie, and all the laddies, into the wet plantations? Na&mdash;one
+      of ye maun keep the lassie company. Ye&rsquo;ve had your turn, Miss Gillian, so
+      it should be Miss Mysie. It winna hurt ye, bairn, ye that hae been
+      rampaging ower the house all the morning.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie knew it was her turn, but she also knew that nurse always favoured
+      Gillian and snubbed her. She had a devouring longing to be with her dear
+      Fly, and a certain sense that she was the preferred one. Must another
+      pleasure be sacrificed to that very naughty Dolores, whose misdemeanours
+      had deprived them of the visit to Rotherwood. She looked so dismal that
+      Gillian said good-naturedly, &lsquo;Really, Mysie, I don&rsquo;t think mamma would
+      mind Dolores&rsquo;s being left a little while; I must go down to see about the
+      Tree, because mamma gave me a message to old Webb, but I&rsquo;ll come back
+      directly. Or perhaps Dolly is going to sleep, and does not want any one.
+      Go and see.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie on this crept quietly into the room, full of hope of escape, but
+      Dolores was anything but asleep. &lsquo;Oh, are you come, Mysie? Now you&rsquo;ll go
+      on with the story. I tried, but my eyes ache at the back of them, and I
+      can&rsquo;t.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie&rsquo;s fate was sealed. She sat down by the fire and took up the book, &lsquo;A
+      Story for the Schoolroom,&rsquo; one of the new ones given from the Tree. It was
+      the middle of the story, and she did not care about it at first,
+      especially when she heard Fly&rsquo;s voice, and all the others laughing and
+      chattering on the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Didn&rsquo;t they care for her absence?&rsquo; and her voice grew thick, and her eyes
+      dim; but Dolores must not think her cross and unwilling, and she made a
+      great effort, became interested in the girls there described, and wondered
+      whether staying with Fly would have turned her head, after the example of
+      the heroine of the book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not seem to want to talk. In fact, she was clinging to the
+      reading, because she could not bear to speak or think of the state of
+      affairs, and the story seemed, as it were, to drown her misery. She knew
+      that her aunt and cousins were far less severe with her than she expected,
+      but that could only be because she was ill. Had not Uncle Reginald turned
+      against her, and Constance? It would all come upon her as soon as she came
+      out of her room, and she was rather sorry to believe that she should be up
+      and about to-morrow morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie read on till the short, winter day showed the first symptoms of
+      closing in. Then Lady Merrifield came up. &lsquo;You here, little nurse?&rsquo; she
+      said. &lsquo;Run out now and meet the others. I&rsquo;ll stay with Dolly.&rsquo; Mysie knew
+      by the kiss that her mother was pleased with her; but Dolores dreaded the
+      talk with her aunt, and made herself sleepy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. &mdash; THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The two gentlemen who had gone to Darminster brought home tidings that the
+      police who had been put on the track of Flinders had telegraphed that it
+      was thought that a person answering to his description had embarked at
+      Liverpool in an American-bound steamer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This idea, though very uncertain, was a relief, at least to all except the
+      boys, who thought it a great shame that such a rascal should escape, and
+      wanted to know whether the Americans could not be made to give him up.
+      They did not at all understand their elders being glad, for the sake of
+      Maurice Mohun and his dead wife, that the man should not be publicly
+      convicted, and above all that Dolores should not have to bear testimony
+      against him in court, and describe her own very doubtful proceedings.
+      Besides, there would have been other things to try him for, since he had
+      cheated the publishing house which employed him of all he had been able to
+      get into his hands. There was reason to believe that he had heavy debts,
+      especially gambling ones, and that he had become desperate since he no
+      longer had his step-sister to fall back upon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Looking into his room, among other papers, a half-burnt manuscript was
+      found upon his grate among some exhausted cinders, as if he had been
+      trying to use the unfortunate &lsquo;Waif of the Moorland&rsquo; to eke out his last
+      fire. Moreover, the proprietor of the Politician told Colonel Mohun of
+      having remonstrated with him on the exceeding weakness and poorness of the
+      &lsquo;Constantia&rsquo; poetry, &lsquo;which,&rsquo; as that indignant personage added, &lsquo;was
+      evidently done merely as a lure to the unfortunate young lady.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fifteen pounds had been accepted in an honourable and ladylike manner
+      by the elder sister&mdash;but without any overpowering expression of
+      gratitude. No doubt it was a bitter pill to her, forced down by necessity,
+      and without guessing that it cost the donors anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores&rsquo;s mind was set at rest as to Flinders&rsquo;s evasion before night, and
+      on the Sunday morning even Nurse Halfpenny could find out nothing the
+      matter with her, so that she was obliged to make her appearance as usual.
+      Uncle Reginald did not kiss her, he only gave a cold nod, and said &lsquo;Good
+      morning.&rsquo; Otherwise all went on as usual, and it was pleasant to find that
+      Fly was as entirely used as they were to learning Collect and hymn, and
+      copying out texts illustrating Catechism, and that she was expected to
+      have them ready to repeat them to her mother some time in the afternoon.
+      There was something, too, that Mysie could not have described, but which
+      she liked, in the manner in which, on this morning, Dolores accepted small
+      acts of good nature, such as finding a book for her, getting a new pen and
+      helping her to the whereabouts of a Scriptural reference. It seemed for
+      the first time as if she liked to receive a kindness, and her &lsquo;thank you&rsquo; 
+      really had a sound of thanks, instead of being much more like &lsquo;I wish you
+      would not.&rsquo; Mysie felt really encouraged to be kind, and when, on setting
+      forth to church, everybody was crowding round trying to walk with Fly, and
+      Dolores was going along lonely and deserted, Mysie resigned her chance of
+      one side of the favourite Phyllis, and dropped back to give her company to
+      the solitary one. To her surprise and gratification, Dolores took hold of
+      her hand, and listened quite willingly to her chatter about the schemes
+      for the fortnight that Fly was to be left with them. Presently Constance
+      was seen going markedly by the other gate of the churchyard, quite out of
+      her usual way, and not even looking towards them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the last day of the old year, and, in the midst of the Christmas
+      joy, there were allusions to it in the services and hymns. Something in
+      the tune of &lsquo;Days and moments quickly flying,&rsquo; touched some chord in
+      Dolores&rsquo;s spirit, and set her off crying. She would have done anything to
+      stop it, but there was no helping it, great round splashes came down, and
+      the more she was afraid of being noticed, the worse the choking grew. At
+      last, the very worst person&mdash;she thought&mdash;to take notice. Uncle
+      Reginald, did so, and, under cover of a general rising, said sternly,
+      &lsquo;Stop that, or go out.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Stop that! Much did the colonel know about a girl&rsquo;s tears, or how she
+      would have given anything to check them. But here was Aunt Lily edging
+      down to her, taking her by the hand, leading her out, she did not know
+      how, stopping all who would have come after them with help&mdash;then
+      pausing a little in the open, frosty air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Aunt Lily! I am very sorry!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never mind that, my dear. Do you feel poorly?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no; I&rsquo;m quite well&mdash;only&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only overcome&mdash;I don&rsquo;t wonder&mdash;my dear&mdash;can you walk
+      quietly home with me?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, please.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing was said till they had passed the &lsquo;idle corner,&rsquo; where men and
+      half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and stared
+      at the lady making her exit, till they were through the short street with
+      shop windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking, and had come into
+      the quiet lane leading to the paddock. Then Lady Merrifield laid her hand
+      on the girl&rsquo;s shoulder very gently, and said, &lsquo;It was too much for you, my
+      dear, you are not quite strong yet.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes; I&rsquo;m well. Only I am so very&mdash;very miserable,&rsquo; and the gust
+      of sobs and tears rushed on her again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You can&rsquo;t! I&rsquo;ve done it! And&mdash;and they&rsquo;ll all be against me always&mdash;Uncle
+      Regie and all!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I&rsquo;m sure he will forgive you when he
+      sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a fresh
+      start. I am sure you were deceived.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;I never could have thought he&mdash;Uncle Alfred&mdash;was
+      such a dreadful man.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I expect that since he lost your mother&rsquo;s influence and help he may have
+      sunk lower than when you had seen him before. Did your father give you any
+      directions about him?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No. Father hated to hear of him&rsquo; and never spoke about him if he could
+      help it; and we thought it was all Mohun high notions because he wasn&rsquo;t
+      quite a gentleman.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I see. Indeed, my dear, though you have done very wrong, I have already
+      felt that there was great excuse for you in trying to keep up intercourse
+      with a person who belonged to your mother. I wish you had told me, but I
+      suppose you were afraid.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;And I thought you were sure to be cross and harsh,&rsquo; 
+      she muttered. And then suddenly looking up, &lsquo;Oh, Aunt Lily! everybody is
+      angry but you&mdash;you and Mysie! Please go on being kind! I believe
+      you&rsquo;ve been good to me always.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I&rsquo;ve tried,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, with fears in her brown eyes
+      and a choke in her voice caressing the hand that had been put into hers.
+      &lsquo;I have wished very much to make you happy with us; but the ways of a
+      large family must be a trial to a new-comer.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores raised her face for a kiss, and said, &lsquo;I see it now. But I did not
+      like everything always, and I thought aunts were sure to be unkind.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That was very hard. And why?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was heard to mutter something about aunts in books always being cross.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! my dear! I suppose there are some unkind aunts, but I am sure there
+      are a great many more who wish with all their hearts to make happy homes
+      for their nieces. I hope now we may do so. I have more hope than ever I
+      had, and so I shall write to your father.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And please&mdash;please,&rsquo; cried Dolores, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t let Uncle Regie write him
+      a very dreadful letter! I know he will.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think you can prevent that best yourself, by telling Uncle Regie how
+      sorry you are. He was specially grieved because he thinks you told him two
+      direct falsehoods.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! I didn&rsquo;t think they were that,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;for it was true that
+      father did not leave anything with me for Uncle Alfred. And I did not know
+      whether it was me whom he saw at Darminster. I did tell you one once, Aunt
+      Lily, when you asked if I gave Constance a note. At least, she gave it to
+      me, and not I to her. Indeed, I don&rsquo;t tell falsehoods, Aunt Lily&mdash;I
+      mean I never did at home, but Constance said everybody said those sort of
+      things at school, and that one was driven to it when one was&mdash;-&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Was what, my dear?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Tyrannized over,&rsquo; Dolores got out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! Dolly, I am afraid Constance was no real friend. It was a great
+      mistake to think her like Miss Hacket.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And now she has sent back all my notes, and won&rsquo;t look at me or speak to
+      me,&rsquo; and Dolores&rsquo;s tears began afresh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is very ungenerous of her, but very likely she will be very sorry to
+      have done so when her first anger is over, and she understands that you
+      were quite as much deceived as she was.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But I shall never care for her again. It is not like Mysie, who never
+      stopped being kind all the time&mdash;nor Gillian either. I shall cut her
+      next time!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You should remember that she has something to forgive. I don&rsquo;t want you
+      to be intimate with her but I think it would be better if, instead of
+      quarrelling openly, you wrote a note to say that you were deceived and
+      that you are very sorry for what you brought on her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should not have gone on with it but for her and Her stupid poems!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can you bear to tell me how it all was, my dear? I do not half understand
+      it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And on the way home, and in Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s own room Dolores found it a
+      relief to pour forth an explanation of the whole affair, beginning with
+      that meeting with Mr. Flinders at Exeter, of which no one had heard, and
+      going on to her indignation at the inspection of her letters; and how
+      Constance had undertaken to conduct her correspondence, &lsquo;and that made it
+      seem as if she must write to some one,&rsquo;&mdash;so she wrote to Uncle
+      Alfred. And then Constance, becoming excited at the prospect of a literary
+      connection, all the rest followed. It was a great relief to have told it
+      all, and Lady Merrifield was glad to see that the sense of deceit was what
+      weighed most heavily upon her niece, and seemed to have depressed her all
+      along. Indeed, the aunt came to the conclusion that though Dolores alone
+      might still have been sullen, morose and disagreeable, perhaps very
+      reserved, she never would have kept up the systematic deceit but for
+      Constance. The errors, regarded as sin, weighed on Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s mind,
+      but she judged it wiser not to press that thought on an unprepared spirit,
+      trusting that just as Dolores had wakened to the sense of the human love
+      that surrounded her, hitherto disbelieved and disregarded, so she might
+      yet awake to the feeling of the Divine love and her offence against it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The afternoon was tolerably free, for the gentlemen, including the elder
+      boys, walked to evensong at a neighbouring church noted for its musical
+      services, and Lady Merrifield, as she said, &lsquo;lashed herself up&rsquo; to go with
+      Gillian, carry back the remnant of the unhappy &lsquo;Waif,&rsquo; and &lsquo;have it out&rsquo; 
+      with Constance, who would, she feared, never otherwise understand the
+      measure of her own delinquency, and from whom, perhaps, evidence might be
+      extracted which would palliate the poor child&rsquo;s offence in the eyes of
+      Colonel Mohun. Both the Hacket sisters looked terribly frightened when she
+      appeared, and the elder one made an excuse for getting her outside the
+      door to beseech her to be careful, dear Constance was so nervous and so
+      dreadfully upset by all she had undergone. Lady Merrifield was not the
+      least nervous of the two, and she felt additionally displeased with
+      Constance for not having said one word of commiseration when her sister
+      had inquired for Dolores. On returning to the drawing-room, Lady
+      Merrifield found the young lady standing by the window, playing with the
+      blind, and looking as if she wanted to make her escape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I do not know whether you will be sorry or glad to see this,&rsquo; said Lady
+      Merrifield, producing a half-burnt roll of paper. &lsquo;It was found in Mr.
+      Flinders&rsquo;s grate, and my brother thought you would be glad that it should
+      not get into strange hands.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, it was cruel! it was base! What a wicked man he is!&rsquo; cried Constance,
+      with hot tears, as she beheld the mutilated condition of her poor &lsquo;Waif.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, it was a most unfortunate thing that you should have run into
+      intercourse with such an utterly untrustworthy person.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I was grossly deceived, Lady Merrifield!&rsquo; said Constance, clasping her
+      hands somewhat theatrically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I shall never believe in any one again!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not without better grounds, I hope,&rsquo; was the answer. &lsquo;Your poor little
+      friend is terribly broken down by all this.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t call her my friend. Lady Merrifield. She has used me shamefully!
+      What business had she to tell me he was her uncle when he was no such
+      thing?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She had been always used to call him so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t tell me, Lady Merrifield,&rsquo; said Constance, who, after her first
+      fright, was working herself into a passion. &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t know what a little
+      viper you have been warming, nor what things she has been continually
+      saying of you. She told me&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield held up her hand with authority.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Stay, Constance. Do you think it is generous in you to tell me this?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sure you ought to know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then why did you encourage her?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I pitied her&mdash;I believed her&mdash;I never thought she would have
+      led me into this!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How did she lead you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Always talking about her precious, persecuted uncle. I believe she was in
+      league with him all the time!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is nonsense,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;as you must see if you reflect
+      a little. Dolores was too young to have been told this man&rsquo;s real
+      character; she only knew that her mother, who had spent her childhood with
+      him, treated him as a brother, and did all she could for him. Dolores did
+      very wrongly and foolishly in keeping up a connection with him unknown to
+      me; but I cannot help feeling there was great excuse for her, and she was
+      quite as much deceived as you were.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, of course, you stand by your own niece, Lady Merrifield. If you knew
+      what horrid things she said about your pride and unkindness, as she called
+      it, you would not think she deserved it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nay, that is exactly what does most excuse her in my eyes. Her fancying
+      such things of me was what did prevent her from confiding in me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance had believed herself romantic, but the Christian chivalry of
+      Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s nature was something quite beyond her. She muttered
+      something about Dolores not deserving, which made her visitor really
+      angry, and say, &lsquo;We had better not talk of deserts. Dolores is a mere
+      child&mdash;a mother-less child, who had been a good deal left to herself
+      for many months. I let her come to you because she seemed shy and unhappy
+      with us, and I did not like to deny her the one pleasure she seemed to
+      care for. I knew what an excellent person and thorough lady your sister
+      is, and I thought I could perfectly trust her with you. I little thought
+      you would have encouraged her in concealment, and&mdash;I must say&mdash;deceit,
+      and thus made me fail in the trust her father reposed in me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I would never have done it,&rsquo; Constance sobbed, &lsquo;but for what she said
+      about you. Lady Merrifield!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, and even if I am such a hard, severe person, does that make it
+      honourable or right to help the child I trusted to you to carry on this
+      underhand correspondence?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Constance hung her head. Her sister had said the same to her, but she
+      still felt herself the most injured party, and thought it very hard that
+      she should be so severely blamed for what the girls at her school treated
+      so lightly. She said, &lsquo;I am very sorry. Lady Merrifield,&rsquo; but it was not
+      exactly the tone of repentance, and it ended with: &lsquo;If it had not been for
+      her, I should never have done it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I suppose not, for there would have been no temptation. I was in hopes
+      that you would have shown some kindlier and more generous feeling towards
+      the younger girl, who could not have gone so far wrong without your
+      assistance, and who feels your treatment of her very bitterly. But to find
+      you incapable of understanding what you have done, makes me all the more
+      glad that the friendship&mdash;if friendship it can be called&mdash;is
+      broken off between you. Good-bye. I think when you are older and wiser,
+      you will be very sorry to recollect the doings of the last few months.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield walked away, and found on her return that Dolores had
+      succeeded in writing to her father, and was so utterly tired out by the
+      feelings it had cost her that she was only fit to lie on the sofa and
+      sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian was, of course, not seen till she came home from evening service.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, mamma,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;what did you do to Constance?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, I heard you shut the front door. And presently after there came
+      such a noise through the wall that all the girls pricked up their ears,
+      and Miss Hacket jumped up in a fright. If it had been Val, one would have
+      called it a naughty child roaring.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What! did I send her into hysterics?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I suppose, as she is grown up, it must have the fine name, but it wasn&rsquo;t
+      a bit like poor Dolly&rsquo;s choking. I am sure she did it to make her sister
+      come! Well, of course, Miss Hacket went away, and I did the best I could,
+      but what could one do with all these screeches and bellowings breaking
+      out?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For shame. Gill!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t help it, mamma. If you had only seen their faces when the uproar
+      came in a fresh gust! How they whispered, and some looked awestruck. I
+      thought I had better get rid of them, and come home myself; but Miss
+      Hacket met me, and implored me to stay, and I was weak-minded enough to do
+      so. I wish I hadn&rsquo;t, for it was only to be provoked past bearing. That
+      horrid girl has poisoned even Miss Hacket&rsquo;s mind, and she thinks you have
+      been hard on her darling. You did not know how nervous and timid dear
+      Connie is!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, Gill, I confess she made me very angry, and I told her what I
+      thought of her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And that she didn&rsquo;t choose to hear!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you see her again?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I am thankful to say, I did not. But Miss Hacket would go on all
+      tea-time, explaining and explaining for me to tell you how dear Connie is
+      so affectionate and so easily led, and how Dolores came over her with
+      persuasions, and deceived her. I declare I never liked Dolly so well
+      before. At any rate, she doesn&rsquo;t make professions, and not a bit more fuss
+      than she can help. And there was Miss Hacket getting brandy cherries and
+      strong coffee, and I don&rsquo;t know what all, because dear Connie was so
+      overcome, and dear Lady Merrifield was quite under a mistake, and so
+      deceived by Dolores. I told Miss Hacket you were never under a mistake nor
+      deceived.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You didn&rsquo;t, Gillian!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, I did, and the stupid woman only wanted to kiss me (but I wouldn&rsquo;t
+      let her) and said I was very right to stand up for my dear mamma. As if
+      that had anything to do with it! What are you laughing at, mamma? Why,
+      Uncle Regie is laughing, and Cousin Rotherwood! What is it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;At the two partisans who never stand up for their own families,&rsquo; said
+      Uncle Regie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But it&rsquo;s true!&rsquo; cried Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What! that I am never mistaken nor deceived?&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Except when you took Miss Constance for a sensible woman, eh?&rsquo; said her
+      brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That I never did! But I did take her for a moderately honourable one.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, that was a mistake,&rsquo; owned Gillian. &lsquo;And Miss Hacket is as bad!
+      There&rsquo;s no gratitude&mdash;-&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Hush!&rsquo; broke in her mother; and Gillian stopped abashed, while Lady
+      Merrifield continued, &lsquo;I won&rsquo;t have Miss Hacket abused. She is only
+      blinded by sisterly affection.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think I can go there again,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;after what she said
+      about you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nonsense!&rsquo; said her mother. &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t be as bad as Constance in trying to
+      make me angry by telling me all poor Dolly&rsquo;s grumblings.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Follow your mother&rsquo;s example, Gillian,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood, &lsquo;and, if
+      possible, never hear, certainly never attend to, what any one says of you
+      behind your back.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is said to have said of you, you should add, Rotherwood,&rsquo; put in the
+      colonel. &lsquo;It is a decree worse than eavesdropping.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Regie!&rsquo; exclaimed his sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, not perhaps for your own honour and conscience, but the keyhole is
+      a more trustworthy medium than the reporter.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s a strong way of stating it, but, at any rate, the keyhole has no
+      temper nor imagination, or prejudice of its own,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, and as far as it goes, it enables you to judge of the frame in which
+      the words, even if correctly reported, were spoken,&rsquo; added Colonel Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The moral of which is,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood, drolly, &lsquo;that Gillian is
+      not to take notice of anyone&rsquo;s observations upon her unless she has heard
+      them through the keyhole.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And so one would never hear them at all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Q. E. D.,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood. &lsquo;And now, Lily, do you. ever sing the
+      two evening-hymns. Ken and Keble, now, as the family used to do on Sundays
+      at the Old Court, long ere the days of &lsquo;Hymns Ancient and Modern&rsquo;?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t we?&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;Only all our best voices will be
+      singing it at Rawul Pindee!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And, as she struck a note on the piano, all the younger people still up,
+      Mysie, Phyllis, Wilfred and Valetta, gathered round from the outer room to
+      join in their evening Sunday delight. Fly put her hand into her father&rsquo;s
+      and whispered, &lsquo;You told me about it, daddy.&rsquo; He began to sing, but his
+      voice thickened as he missed the tones once associated with it. And Lady
+      Merrifield, too, nearly broke down as with all her heart she sang,
+      hopefully,
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                   &lsquo;Now Lord, the gracious work begin.&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. &mdash; THE STONE MELTING.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was with a strange feeling that Dolores woke on the New Year&rsquo;s morning,
+      that something was very sad and strange, and yet that there was a sense of
+      relief. For one thing, that terrible confession to her father was written,
+      and was no longer a weight hanging over her. And though his answer was
+      still to come, that was months away. There was Uncle Regie greatly
+      displeased with her; there was Constance treating her as a traitor; there
+      was the mischief done, and yet something hard and heavy was gone?
+      Something sweet and precious had come in on her! Surely it was, that now
+      she knew and felt that she could trust in Aunt Lilias&mdash;yes, and in
+      Mysie. She got up, quite looking forward to meeting those gentle, brown
+      eyes of her aunt&rsquo;s, that she seemed never before to have looked into, and
+      to feeling the sweet, motherly kiss which had so mud, more meaning in it
+      now, as almost to make up for Uncle Reginald&rsquo;s estrangement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She even anticipated gladly those ten minutes alone with her aunt, which
+      she used to dislike so much, hoping that the holiday-time would not hinder
+      them. Really wishing to please her aunt, she had learnt her portion
+      perfectly, and Lady Merrifield showed that she appreciated the effort,
+      though still it was more a lesson than a reality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear!&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;I am afraid this is another blow for you&mdash;it
+      came this morning.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the account from Professor Muhlwasser&rsquo;s German publisher, amounting
+      to a few shillings more than six pounds. And an announcement that the
+      books were on the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh,&rsquo; cried Dolores, &lsquo;I thought he was dead! He told me so! Uncle Alfred,
+      I mean! And it was only to get the money! How could he be so wicked?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am afraid that was all he cared for.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And what shall I do. Aunt Lily? Will you pay it, please, and take all my
+      allowance till it is made up?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think it will be more comfortable for you if I do something of that
+      sort, though I don&rsquo;t think you should go entirely without money. You have
+      a pound a quarter. I was going to give you yours at once.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, take it&mdash;pray&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Suppose I give you five shillings, instead of twenty. I do not think it
+      well to leave you with nothing for a year and a half, and this is nearly
+      what Mysie has.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A shilling a month&mdash;very well. I wish I could pay it all at once!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No doubt you do, my dear, but this will keep you in mind for a long time
+      what a dangerous thing you did in giving away money you had no right to
+      dispose of.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;Mother earned money for him. I know she never took
+      father&rsquo;s without asking him; but I couldn&rsquo;t earn, and couldn&rsquo;t ask.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield kissed her, for very joy, to hear no sullenness in her
+      tone; and then all went to church together on the New Year&rsquo;s day that was
+      to be the beginning of better things. Lord Rotherwood had just time to go
+      before meeting the train which was to take him to High Court, leaving his
+      Fly too much used to his absences to be distressed about them, and, in
+      fact, somewhat crazy about a notion which Gillian had started that
+      morning, of getting up a little play to surprise him when he came back for
+      Twelfth Day, as he promised to do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mamma declared that if it was in French, and the words were learnt every
+      morning before half-past eleven, it should supersede all other lessons;
+      but such was the hatred of the whole boy faction to French, that they
+      declared they had rather do rational sensible lessons twice over than
+      learn such rot, and this carried the day. The drama proposed was that one
+      in an old number of &lsquo;Aunt Judy,&rsquo; where the village mayor is persuaded by
+      the drummer to fine the girls for wearing lace caps. The French original
+      existed in the house, and Fly started the idea that the male performers
+      should speak English and the female French; but this was laughed down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the midst Uncle Reginald came to the door and called, &lsquo;Lilias, can you
+      speak to me a minute?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield went out into the hall to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s a policeman come over, Lily. They have got the fellow!&rsquo; 
+      &lsquo;Flinders?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes; arrested him on board a steamer at Bristol.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, I wish they had let it alone!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So do I. They are bringing him back. The Darminster City bench sits
+      to-day, and they want that unlucky child over there to make her deposition
+      for his committal.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t they commit him without her?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not for the forgery. The bank people are bent on prosecuting for that,
+      and we can&rsquo;t stop them. I suppose she can be depended on?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Reginald, don&rsquo;t! I told you the deceit was an unnatural growth from
+      Constance&rsquo;s pseudo sentiment.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, get her ready to come with me,&rsquo; said the colonel, with a gesture of
+      doubt; &lsquo;we must catch the 12.50. The superintendent brought a fly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You will frighten her out of her senses. I can&rsquo;t let her go alone with
+      you in this mood.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;As you please, if you choose to knock yourself up. I&rsquo;ll tell the
+      superintendent, and walk on to the station. You&rsquo;ve not a moment to lose,
+      so don&rsquo;t let her stand dawdling and crying.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a hard task for Lady Merrifield. She called Dolores, whom Mysie was
+      inviting to be one of the village maidens, and bade her put on her things
+      quickly. She ordered cold meat and wine into the dining-room, called
+      Gillian into her room, and explained while dressing, and bade her keep the
+      others away. Then, meeting Dolores on the stairs took her into the
+      dining-room and made her swallow some cold beef, and drink some sherry,
+      before telling her that the magistrates at Darminster wanted to ask her
+      some questions. Dolores looked pale and frightened, and exclaimed,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, but he has got away!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I am grieved to say that he has not.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores understood, and submitted more quietly and resignedly than her
+      aunt had feared. She was a barrister&rsquo;s daughter, and once or twice her
+      father had taken her and her mother part of the way on circuit with him,
+      and she had been in court, so that she had known from the first that if
+      her uncle were arrested there was no choice but that she must speak out.
+      So she only trembled very much and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aunt Lily, are you going with me?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed I am, my poor child. Uncle Regie is gone on.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No more was spoken then, but Dolores put her cold hand into her aunt&rsquo;s
+      muff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian kept all the flock prisoned in the schoolroom. Wilfred, Val, and
+      Fergus rushed to the window, and were greatly disappointed not to see a
+      policeman on the box, &lsquo;taking Dolores to be tried&rsquo;&mdash;as Fergus
+      declared, and Wilfred insisted, just because Gillian and Mysie
+      contradicted it with all their might. He continued to repeat it with
+      variations and exaggerations, until Jasper heard him, and declared that he
+      should have a thorough good licking if he said so again, administering a
+      cuff by way of earnest. Wilfred howled, and was ordered not to be such an
+      ape, and Fly looked on in wonder at the domestic discipline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The superintendent had, in fact, walked on with Uncle Reginald, and
+      Dolores saw nothing of him, but was put into an empty first-class
+      carriage, into which her aunt followed her, but her uncle, observing, &lsquo;You
+      know how to manage her, Lily,&rsquo; betook himself to a smoking-carriage, and
+      left them to themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was never a very talking girl, and the habit of silence had grown
+      upon her. She leant against her aunt and she put her arm round her, and
+      did not attempt to say anything till she asked,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Will he be there?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know, I am afraid he will. It is very sad for you, my poor Dolly;
+      but we must recollect that, after all, it may be much better for him to be
+      stopped now than to go on and get worse and worse in some strange
+      country.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not ask what she was to do, she knew enough already about
+      trials to understand that she was only to answer questions, and she
+      presently said,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;This can&rsquo;t be his trial. There are no assizes now.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, this is only for the committal. It will very soon be over, if you
+      will only answer quietly and steadily. If you do so, I think Uncle Regie
+      will be pleased, and tell your father! I am sure I shall!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores pressed up closer and laid her cheek against the soft sealskin. In
+      the midst of her trouble there was a strange wonder in her. Could this be
+      really the aunt whom she had thought so cruel, unjust, and tyrannical, and
+      from whom she had so carefully hidden her feelings? Nobody got into the
+      carriage, and just before reaching Darminster, Lady Merrifield made a
+      great effort over her own shyness and said,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now, Dolly, we will pray a little prayer that you may be a faithful
+      witness, and that God may turn it, all to good for your poor uncle.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was very much surprised, and did not know whether she liked it or
+      not, but she saw her aunt&rsquo;s closed eyes and uplifted hands, and she tried
+      to follow the example.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The train stopped, and her uncle came to the door, looking inquiringly at
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She will be good and brave,&rsquo; said her aunt; and quickly passing across
+      the platform, Dolores found herself beside her aunt, with her uncle
+      opposite in another fly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Things had been arranged for them considerately, and after they came to
+      the Guildhall, where the city magistrates were sitting, Colonel Mohun went
+      at once into court; the others were taken to a little room, and waited
+      there a few minutes before Colonel Mohun came to call for his niece. It
+      was a long room, with a rail at one end, and Dolores knew, with a strange
+      thrill which made her shudder, that Mr. Flinders was there, but she could
+      not bear to look at him, and only squeezed hard at the hand of her aunt,
+      who asked, in a somewhat shaky voice, if she might come with her niece.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Certainly, certainly. Lady Merrifield,&rsquo; said one of the magistrates, and
+      chairs were set both for her and Colonel Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are Miss Mohun, I think&mdash;may I ask your Christian name in full?&rsquo; 
+      And then she had to spell it, and likewise tell her exact age, after which
+      she was put on oath&mdash;as she knew enough of trials to expect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Are you residing with Lady Merrifield?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But your father is living?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, but he is in the Fiji Islands.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Will you favour us with his exact name?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Maurice Devereux Mohun.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When did he leave England?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The fifth of last September.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did he leave any money with you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;In what form?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A cheque on W&mdash;&mdash;&lsquo;s Bank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To bearer or order?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To order.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What was the date?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think it was the 31st of August, but I am not sure.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For how much?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For seven pounds.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When did you part with it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;On the Friday before Christmas Day.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you do anything to it first?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wrote my name on the back.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What did you do with it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I sent it to&mdash;&rsquo; her voice became a little hoarse, but she brought
+      out the words&mdash;&lsquo;to Mr. Flinders.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is this the same?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes&mdash;only some one has put &lsquo;ty&rsquo; to the &lsquo;seven&rsquo; in writing, and 0 to
+      the figure 7.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can you swear to the rest as your father&rsquo;s writing and your own?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The evidence of the banker&rsquo;s clerk as to the cashing of the cheque had
+      been already taken, and the magistrate said, &lsquo;Thank you. Miss Mohun, I
+      think the case is complete, and we need not trouble you any more.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the prisoner&rsquo;s voice made Dolores start and shudder again, as he said,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I beg your pardon, sir, but you have not asked the young lady&rsquo;&mdash;there
+      was a sort of sneer in his voice&mdash;&lsquo;how she sent this draft.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did not you send it direct by the post?&rsquo; demanded the magistrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; I gave it to&mdash;&rsquo; Again she paused, and the words &lsquo;Gave it to&mdash;?&rsquo; 
+      were authoritatively repeated, so that she had no choice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You will observe, sir,&rsquo; said Flinders, in a somewhat insolent tone, &lsquo;that
+      the evidence which the witness has been so ready to adduce is incomplete.
+      There is another link between her hands and mine.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You may reserve that point for your defence on your trial,&rsquo; rejoined the
+      magistrate. &lsquo;There is quite sufficient evidence for your committal.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was already a movement to let Dolores be taken away by her uncle and
+      aunt, so as to spare her from any reproach or impertinence that Flinders
+      might launch at her. She was like some one moving in a dream, glad that
+      her aunt should hold her hand as if she were a little child, saying, as
+      they came out into the street, &lsquo;Very clearly and steadily done, Dolly!
+      Wasn&rsquo;t it, Uncle Regie?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; he said, absently. &lsquo;We must look out, or we shan&rsquo;t catch the 4.50
+      train.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He almost threw them into a cab, and made the driver go his quickest, so
+      that, after all, they had full ten minutes to spare. It made Dolores sick
+      at heart to go near the waiting and refreshment-rooms where she and
+      Constance had spent all that time with Flinders; but she could not bear to
+      say so before her uncle, and he was bent on getting some food for Lady
+      Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not soup, Regie; there might not be time to swallow it. A glass of milk
+      for us each, please; we can drink that at once, and anything solid that we
+      can take with us. I am sure your mouth must be dry, my dear.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Very dry it was, and Dolores gladly swallowed the milk, and found, when
+      seated in the train, that she was really hungry enough to eat her full
+      share of the sandwiches and buns which the colonel had brought in with
+      him; and then she sat resting against her aunt, closed her eyes, and half
+      dozed in the rattle of the train, not moving in the pause at the stations,
+      but quite conscious that Colonel Mohun said, &lsquo;Not a spark of feeling for
+      anybody, not even for that man! As hard as a stone!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;For shame, Regie!&rsquo; said her aunt. &lsquo;How angry you would have been if she
+      had made a scene.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should have liked her better.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, you wouldn&rsquo;t, when you come to understand. There&rsquo;s stuff in her, and
+      depth too.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aye, she&rsquo;s deep enough.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poor child!&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, tenderly. And then the train went on,
+      and the noise drowned the voices, so that Dolores only partly heard, &lsquo;You
+      will see how she will rise,&rsquo; and the answer, &lsquo;You may be right; I hope so.
+      But I can&rsquo;t get over deliberate deceit.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He settled himself in his corner, and Lady Merrifield durst not move nor
+      raise her voice lest she should break what seemed such deep slumber, but
+      which really was half torpor, half a dull dismay, holding fast eyes, lips,
+      and limbs, and which really became sleep, so that Dolores did not hear the
+      next bit of conversation during the ensuing halt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I say, Lily, I did not like the fellow&rsquo;s last question. He means to give
+      trouble about it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I was sorry the other name was brought in, but it must have come sooner
+      or later.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s true; but if she can&rsquo;t swear to the figures on the draft, ten to
+      one that the fellow will get off.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t doubt&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no; but there&rsquo;s the chance for the defence, and he was sharp enough
+      to see it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There is nothing to be said or done about it, of course.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course not. There&rsquo;s nothing for it but to let it alone.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They went on again, and when the train reached Silverton, Dolly was
+      dreaming that her father had come, and that he said Uncle Alfred should be
+      hanged unless she found the money for Professor Muhlwasser. She even
+      looked about for him, and said, &lsquo;Where&rsquo;s father?&rsquo; when she was wakened to
+      get out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian came up to her mother&rsquo;s room to hear what had happened, and to
+      give an account of the day, which had gone off prosperously by Harry&rsquo;s
+      help. He had kept excellent order at dinner, and &lsquo;there&rsquo;s something about
+      Fly which makes even Wilfred be mannerly before her.&rsquo; And then they had
+      gone out and had made Fly free of the Thorn Fortress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, that must have been terribly damp and cold at this time of
+      year.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought of that, mamma, and so we didn&rsquo;t sit down, and made it a
+      guerrilla war; only Fergus couldn&rsquo;t understand the difference between
+      guerrillas and gorillas, and would thump upon himself and roar when they
+      were in ambush.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Rather awkward for the ambush!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Wilfred said he was a traitor, and tied him to a tree, and then Fly
+      found him crying, and would have let him out; but she couldn&rsquo;t get the
+      knots undone; and what do you think? She made Wilfred cut the string
+      himself with his own knife! I never knew such a girl for making every one
+      do as she pleases. Then, when it got dark, we came in, and had a sort of a
+      kind of a rehearsal, only that nobody knew any of the parts, or what each
+      was to be.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A sort of a kind, indeed, it must have been!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But we think the play will be lovely! You can&rsquo;t think how nice Fly was.
+      You know we settled for her to be Annette, the dear, funny, naughty girl,
+      but as soon as she saw that Val wanted the part, she said she didn&rsquo;t care,
+      and gave it up directly, and I don&rsquo;t think we ought to let her, and Hal
+      thinks so too; and all the boys are very angry, and say Val will make a
+      horrid mess of it. Then Mysie wanted to give up the good girl to Fly, and
+      only be one of the chorus, but Fly says she had rather be one of the
+      chorus ones herself than that. So we settled that you should fix the
+      parts, and we would abide by your choice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I hope there was no quarrelling.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;N&mdash;no; only a little falling upon Val by the boys, and Fly put a
+      stop to that. Oh, mamma, if it were only possible to turn Dolly into Fly!
+      I can&rsquo;t help saying it, we seemed to get on so much better just because we
+      hadn&rsquo;t poor Dolly to make a deadweight, and tempt the boys to be tiresome:
+      while Fly made everything go off well. I can&rsquo;t describe it, she didn&rsquo;t in
+      the least mean to keep order or interfere, but somehow squabbles seem to
+      die away before her, and nobody wants to be troublesome.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear little thing! It is a very sweet disposition. But, Gill, I do
+      believe that we shall see poor Dolly take a turn now!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well! having quarrelled with that Constance is in her favour!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Try and think kindly of her trouble. Gill, and then it will be easier to
+      be kind to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian sighed. Falsehood and determined opposition to her mother were the
+      greatest possible crimes in her eyes; and at her age it was not easy to
+      separate the sin from the sinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      New Year&rsquo;s night was always held to be one of especial merriment, but Lady
+      Merrifield was so much tired out by her expedition that she hardly felt
+      equal to presiding over any sports, and proposed that instead the young
+      folk should dance. Gillian and Hal took turns to play for them, and Uncle
+      Reginald and Fly were in equal request as partners. It was Mysie who came
+      to draw Dolores out of her corner, and begged her to be her partner&mdash;&lsquo;If
+      you wouldn&rsquo;t very much rather not,&rsquo; she said, in a pleading, wistful,
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores would &lsquo;very much rather not;&rsquo; but she saw that Mysie would be left
+      out altogether if she did not consent, as Hal was playing and Uncle Regie
+      was dancing with Primrose. She thought of resolutions to turn over a new
+      leaf, and not to refuse everything so she said, &lsquo;Yes, this once,&rsquo; and it
+      was wonderful how much freshened she felt by the gay motion, and perhaps
+      by Mysie&rsquo;s merry, good-natured eyes and caressing hand. After that she had
+      another turn with Gillian and one with Hal, and even one with Fergus
+      because, as he politely informed her, no one else would have him for a
+      quadrille. But, just as this was in progress, and she could not help
+      laughing at his ridiculous mistakes and contempt of rules she met Uncle
+      Reginald&rsquo;s eye fixed on her in wonder &lsquo;He thinks I don&rsquo;t care,&rsquo; thought
+      she to herself. All her pleasure was gone, and she moved so dejectedly
+      that her aunt, watching from the sofa, called her and told her she was
+      over-tired, and sent her to bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores was tired, but not in the way which made it harder instead of
+      easier to sleep, or, rather, she slept just enough to relax her full
+      consciousness and hold over herself, and bring on her a misery of terror
+      and loneliness, and feeling of being forsaken by the whole world. And when
+      she woke fully enough to understand the reality, it was no better; she
+      felt, then, the position she had put herself into, and almost saw in the
+      dark, Flinders&rsquo;s malicious vindictive glance Constance&rsquo;s anger, Uncle
+      Regie&rsquo;s cold, severe look and, worse than all, her father reading her
+      letter&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She fell again into an agony of sobbing, not without a little hope that
+      Aunt Lily would be again brought to her side. At last the door was softly
+      pushed open in the dark, but it was not Aunt Lily, it was Mysie&rsquo;s little
+      bare feet that patted up to the bed, her arms that embraced, her cheek
+      that was squeezed against the tearful one&mdash;&lsquo;Oh, Dolly, Dolly! please
+      don&rsquo;t cry so sadly!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! it is so dreadful, Mysie!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Are you ill&mdash;like the other night?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No&mdash;but&mdash;Mysie&mdash;I can&rsquo;t bear it!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t want to call mamma,&rsquo; said Mysie, thoughtfully, &lsquo;for she is so
+      much tired, and Uncle Regie and Gill said she would be quite knocked up,
+      and got her to come up to bed when we went. Dolly, would it be better if I
+      got into your bed and cuddled you up?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes! oh yes! please do, there&rsquo;s a dear good Mysie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was not much room, but that mattered the less, and the hugging of
+      the warm arms seemed to heal the terrible sense of being unloved and
+      forsaken, the presence to drive away the visions of angry faces that had
+      haunted her; but there was the longing for fellow-feeling on her, and she
+      said, &lsquo;That&rsquo;s nice! Oh, Mysie! you can&rsquo;t think what it is like! Uncle
+      Regie said I didn&rsquo;t care, and he could never forgive deliberate deceit&mdash;and
+      I was so fond of Uncle Regie!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! but he will, if you never tell a story again,&rsquo; said Mysie&mdash;and,
+      as she felt a gesture implying despair&mdash;&lsquo;Yes, they do; I told a story
+      once.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You, Mysie! I thought you never did?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, once, when we were crossing to Ireland and nurse wouldn&rsquo;t let
+      Wilfred tie our handkerchiefs together and fish over the side, and he was
+      very angry, and threw her parasol into the sea when she wasn&rsquo;t looking;
+      and I knew she would be so cross, that when she asked me if I knew what
+      was become of it, I said &lsquo;No,&rsquo; and thought I didn&rsquo;t, really. But then it
+      came over me, again and again, that I had told a story, and, oh! I was so
+      miserable whenever I thought of it&mdash;at church, and saying my prayers,
+      you know; and mamma was poorly, and couldn&rsquo;t come to us at night for ever
+      so long, but at last I could bear it no longer, I heard her say, &lsquo;Mysie is
+      always truthful,&rsquo; and then I did get it out, and told her. And, oh! she
+      and papa were so kind, and they did quite and entirely forgive me!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, you told of your own accord; and they were your own&mdash;not Uncle
+      Regie. Ah! Mysie, everybody hates me. I saw them all looking at me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no! Don&rsquo;t say such things. Dolly. None of us do anything so
+      shocking.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Jasper does, and Wilfred and Val!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No! no! no! they don&rsquo;t hate; only they are tiresome sometimes; but if you
+      wouldn&rsquo;t be cross they would be nice directly&mdash;at least Japs and Val.
+      And &lsquo;tisn&rsquo;t hating with Willie, only he thinks teasing is fun.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And you and Gillian. You can only just bear me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No! no! no!&rsquo; with a great hug, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s not true.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You like Fly ever so much better!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She is so dear, and so funny,&rsquo; said Mysie, the truthful, &lsquo;but somehow,
+      Dolly dear, do you know, I think if you and I got to love one another like
+      real friends, it would be nicer still than even Fly&mdash;because you are
+      here like one of us, you know; and besides, it would be more, because you
+      are harder to get at. Will you be my own friend. Dolly?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Mysie, I must!&rsquo; and there was a fresh kissing and hugging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And there&rsquo;s mamma,&rsquo; added Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, I know Aunt Lily does now; but, oh! if you had seen Uncle Alfred&rsquo;s
+      face, and heard Uncle Regie,&rsquo; and Dolly began to sob again as they
+      returned on her. &lsquo;I see them whenever I shut my eyes!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Darling,&rsquo; whispered Mysie, &lsquo;when I feel bad at night, I always kneel up
+      in bed and say my prayers again!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you ever feel bad?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, when I&rsquo;m frightened, or if I&rsquo;ve been naughty, and haven&rsquo;t told
+      mamma. Shall we do it, Dolly?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know what that has to do with it, but we&rsquo;ll try.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma told me something to say out of.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two little girls rose up, with clasped hands in their bed, and Mysie
+      whispered very low, but so that her companion heard, and said with her a
+      few childish words of confession, pleading and entreating for strength,
+      and then the Lord&rsquo;s Prayer, and the sweet old verse:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+         &lsquo;I lay my body down to sleep,
+          I give my soul to Christ to keep,
+          Wake I at morn, as wake I never,
+          I give my soul to Christ for ever.&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! but I am afraid of that. I don&rsquo;t like it,&rsquo; said Dolores, as they lay
+      down again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It won&rsquo;t make one never wake,&rsquo; returned Mysie; &lsquo;and I do like to give my
+      soul to Christ. It seems so to rest one, and make one not afraid.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said Dolores; &lsquo;and why did you say the Lord&rsquo;s Prayer? That
+      hasn&rsquo;t anything to do with it!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Dolly, when He is our Father near, though our own dear fathers are
+      far away, and there&rsquo;s deliver us from evil&mdash;all that hurts us, you
+      know-and forgive us. It&rsquo;s all there.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I never thought that,&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;I think you have some different
+      prayers from mine. Old nurse taught me long ago. I wish you would always
+      say yours with me. You make them nicer.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie answered with a hug, and a murmured &lsquo;If I can,&rsquo; and offered to say
+      the 121st Psalm, her other step to comfort, and, as she said it, she
+      resolved in her mind whether she could grant Dolores&rsquo;s request; for she
+      was not sure whether she should be allowed to leave her room before saying
+      her own, and she I knew enough of Dolores by this time to be aware that to
+      say she would ask mamma&rsquo;s leave would put an end to all. &lsquo;I know,&rsquo; was her
+      final decision; &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll say my own first, and then come to Dolly&rsquo;s room.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But by that time Dolores was asleep, even if Mysie had not been too sleepy
+      to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She meant to have rushed to the room she shared with Valetta before it was
+      time to get up, but Lots found the black head and the brown together on
+      Dolores&rsquo;s pillow, wrapped in slumber; and though Mysie flew home as soon
+      as she was well awake, Mrs. Halfpenny descended on her while she was yet
+      in her bath, and inflicted a sharp scolding for the malpractice of getting
+      into her cousin&rsquo;s bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But Dolly was so miserable, nurse, and mamma was too tired to call.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then you should have called me, Miss Mysie, and I&rsquo;d have sorted her well!
+      You kenned well &lsquo;tis a thing not to be done and at your age; ye should
+      have minded your duties better.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And nurse even intercepted Mysie on her way to Dolores&rsquo;s room, and
+      declared she would have no messing and gossiping in one another&rsquo;s rooms.
+      Miss Mysie was getting spoilt among strangers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie went down with a strong sense of having been disobedient, as well as
+      of grief for Dolores&rsquo;s disappointment. Happily mamma was late that
+      morning, and nobody was in her room but Primrose. Poor Mysie had soon,
+      with tears in her eyes, confessed her transgression. Her mother&rsquo;s tears,
+      to her great surprise, were on her cheek together with a kiss. &lsquo;Dear
+      child, I am not displeased. Indeed, I am not; I will tell nurse. It must
+      not be a habit, but this was an exception, and I am only thankful you
+      could comfort her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And, mamma, may I go now to her. She said I could help her to say her
+      prayers, and I think she only has little baby ones that her nurse taught
+      her and she doesn&rsquo;t see into the Lord&rsquo;s Prayer.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, my dear, if you can help her to pray you will do the thing most
+      sure to be a blessing to her of all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when Mysie was gone, Lady Merrifield knelt down afresh in
+      thankfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. &mdash; MYSIE AND DOLORES.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Things were going on more quietly at Silverton. That is to say, there were
+      no outward agitations, for the house was anything but quiet. Lady
+      Merrifield had no great love for children&rsquo;s parties, where, as she said,
+      they sat up too late, to eat and drink what was not good for them, and to
+      get presents that they did not care about; and though at Dublin it had
+      been necessary on her husband&rsquo;s account to give and take such civilities,
+      she had kept out of the exchange at Silverton. But, on the other hand,
+      there were festivals, and she promoted a full amount of special treats at
+      home among themselves, or with only an outsider or two, and she endured
+      any amount of noise, provided it was not quarrelsome, over-boisterous, or
+      at unfit times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was the school tea, and magic-lantern, when Mr. Pollock acted as
+      exhibitor, and Harry as spokesman, and worked them up gradually from grave
+      and beautiful scenes like the cedars of Lebanon, the Parthenon and
+      Colosseum, with full explanations, through dissolving views of cottage and
+      bridge by day and night, summer and winter, of life-boat rescue, and the
+      siege of Sevastopol, with shells flying, on to Jack and the Beanstalk and
+      the New Tale of a Tub, the sea-serpent, and the nose-grinding! Lady
+      Phyllis&rsquo;s ecstacy was surpassing, more especially as she found her beloved
+      little maid-of-all-work, and was introduced to all that small person&rsquo;s
+      younger brothers and sisters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here they met Miss Hacket, who was in charge of a class. She comported
+      herself just as usual, and Gillian&rsquo;s dignity and displeasure gave way
+      before her homely cordiality. Constance had not come, as indeed nothing
+      but childhood, sympathy with responsibility for childhood, could make the
+      darkness, stuffiness, and noise of the exhibition tolerable. Even Lady
+      Merrifield trusted her flock to its two elders, and enjoyed a tete-a-tete
+      evening with her brother, who profited by it to advise her strongly to
+      send Dolores to their sister Jane before harm was done to her own
+      children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I would not see that little Mysie of yours spoilt for all the world,&rsquo; 
+      said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nor I; but I don&rsquo;t think it likely to happen.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you know that they are always after each other, chattering in their
+      bedrooms at night. I hear them through the floor.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Only one night&mdash;Mysie told me all about it&mdash;I believe Mysie
+      will do more for that poor child than any of us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Uncle Regie shrugged his shoulders a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, I know I was wrong before, when I wouldn&rsquo;t take Jane&rsquo;s warning; but
+      that was not about one of my own, and, besides, poor Dolores is very much
+      altered.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what, Lily, when any one, I don&rsquo;t care who, man, or woman,
+      or child, once is given up to that sort of humbug and deceit, carrying it
+      on a that girl, Dolores, had done, I would never trust again an inch
+      beyond what I could see. It eats into the very marrow of the bones&mdash;everything
+      is acting afterwards.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That would be saying no repentance was possible&mdash;that Jacob never
+      could become Israel.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I only say I have never seen it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then I hope you will, nay, that you do. I believe your displeasure is the
+      climax of all Dolly&rsquo;s troubles.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Colonel Reginald Mohun could not forgive the having been so entirely
+      deceived where he had so fully trusted; and there was no shaking his
+      opinion that Dolores was essentially deceitful and devoid of feeling and
+      that the few demonstrations of emotion that were brought before him were
+      only put on to excite the compassion of her weakly, good-natured aunt, so
+      he only answered, &lsquo;You always were a soft one Lily.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To which she only answered, &lsquo;We shall see knowing that in his present
+      state of mind he would only set down the hopeful tokens that she perceived
+      either to hypocrisy on the girl&rsquo;s side, or weakness on hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores had indeed gone with the others rather because she could not bear
+      remaining to see her uncle&rsquo;s altered looks than because she expected much
+      pleasure. And she had the satisfaction of sitting by Mysie, and holding
+      her hand, which had become a very great comfort in her forlorn state&mdash;so
+      great that she forebore to hurt her cousin&rsquo;s feelings by discoursing of
+      the dissolving views she had seen at a London party. Also she exacted a
+      promise that this station should always be hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie, on her side, was in some of the difficulties of a popular
+      character, for Fly felt herself deserted, and attacked her on the first
+      opportunity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What does make you always go after Dolly instead of me, Mysie? Do you
+      like her so much better?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no! but you have them all, and she has nobody.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, but she has been so horridly naughty, hasn&rsquo;t she?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think she meant it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One never does. At least, I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t&mdash;and mamma always says it
+      is nonsense to say that.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m not sure whether it is always,&rsquo; said Mysie, thoughtfully, &lsquo;for
+      sometimes one does worse than one knows. Once I made a mouse-trap of a
+      beautiful large sheet of bluey paper, and it turned out to be an order
+      come down to papa. Mamma and Alethea gummed it up as well as ever they
+      could again, but all the officers had to know what had happened to it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And were you punished?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I was not allowed to go into papa&rsquo;s room without one of the elder ones
+      till after my next birthday, but that wasn&rsquo;t so bad as papa&rsquo;s being so
+      vexed, and everybody knowing it; and Major Denny would talk about mice and
+      mouse-traps every time he saw me till I quite hated my name.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I&rsquo;m sure you didn&rsquo;t mean to cut up an important paper.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; but I did do a little wrong, for we had no leave to take anything not
+      quite in the waste basket, and this had been blown off the table, and was
+      on the floor outside. They didn&rsquo;t punish me so much I think because of
+      that. Papa said it was partly his own fault for not securing it when he
+      was called off. You see little wrongs that one knows turn out great wrongs
+      that one would never think of, and that is so very dreadful, and makes me
+      so very sorry for Dolores.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I didn&rsquo;t think you would like a cross, naughty girl like that more than
+      your own Fly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, no! Fly, don&rsquo;t say that. I don&rsquo;t really like her half so well, you
+      know, only if you would help me to be kind to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sure my mother wouldn&rsquo;t wish me to have anything to do with her. I
+      don&rsquo;t think she would have let me come here if she had known what sort of
+      girl she is.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But your papa knew when he left you&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, papa! yes; but he can never see anything amiss in a Mohun; I heard
+      her say so. And he wants me to be friends with you; dear, darling friends
+      like him and your Uncle Claude, Mysie, so you must be, and not be always
+      after that Dolores.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I want to be friends with both. One can have two friends.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No! no! no! not two best friends. And you are my best friend, Mysie, ever
+      so much better than Alberta Fitzhugh, if only you&rsquo;ll come always to me
+      this little time when I&rsquo;m here, and sit by me instead of that Dolly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I do love you very much, Fly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And you&rsquo;ll sit by me at the penny reading to-night?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I promised Dolly. But she may sit on the other side.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Phyllis, with jealous perverseness. &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care if that Dolly
+      is to be on the other side, you&rsquo;ll talk to nobody but her! Now, Mysie, I
+      had been writing to ask daddy to let you come home with me, you yourself,
+      to the Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball, but if you won&rsquo;t sit by me, you may stay with
+      your dear Dolores.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Fly! When you know I promised, and there is the other side.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Fly had been courted enough by all the cousinhood to have become
+      exacting and displeased at having any rival to the honour of her hand&mdash;so
+      she pouted and said, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care about it, if you have her. I shall sit
+      between Val and Jasper.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One must be thirteen, with a dash of the sentiment of a budding
+      friendship, to enter into all that &lsquo;sitting by&rsquo; involves; and in Mysie&rsquo;s
+      case, here was her compassionate promise standing not only between her and
+      the avowed preference of one so charming as Fly, but possibly depriving
+      her of the chances of the wonders of the Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball. No wonder that
+      disconsolate tears came into her eyes as she uttered another pleading,
+      &lsquo;Oh, Fly, how can you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You must choose,&rsquo; said the offended young lady; &lsquo;you can&rsquo;t have us both.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To which argument she stuck, being offended as well as scandalized at
+      being set aside for such a culprit as Dolores, whose misdemeanours and
+      discourtesy were equally shocking to her imagination.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie could confide her troubles to no one, for she was aware that caring
+      about sitting together was treated by the elders as egregious folly; but a
+      promise was a promise with her, and she held staunchly to her purpose,
+      though between Dolores and Miss Vincent she lost all those delightful
+      asides which enhanced the charms of the amusing parts of the penny reading
+      and beguiled the duller ones&mdash;of which there were many, since it was
+      more concert than penny reading, people being rather shy of committing
+      themselves to reading&mdash;Hal, Mr. Pollock and the schoolmaster being
+      the only volunteers in that line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian had, sorely against the grain, to play a duet with Constance
+      Hacket. The two young ladies had met one another with freezing civility in
+      the classroom, and to those who understood matters, the stiffness of their
+      necks and shoulders, as they sat at the piano, spoke unutterable things.
+      But there had never been any real liking between Constance and the younger
+      Merrifields, and the mother did not trouble herself much about this,
+      knowing that the vexation of the elder sister, about whom she did care,
+      would pass off with friendly intercourse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fly&rsquo;s displeasure did not last long, for Mysie bad more attractions for
+      her than any one else, and she was a good-humoured creature. There was a
+      joyous Twelfth-Night, with home-made cake and home-characters, prepared by
+      mamma and Gillian, and followed up by games, in which Dolores had a share,
+      promoted by her aunt, who was very anxious to keep her from feeling set
+      apart from every one; but this was difficult to manage, as she was so
+      generally disliked, that even Gillian was only good-natured to her in
+      accordance with her mother&rsquo;s desire that she should not be treated as &lsquo;out
+      of the pale of humanity.&rsquo; Mysie alone sought her out and brought her
+      forward with any real earnestness, and good little Mysie had a somewhat
+      difficult part to play between kindness to her and Fly&rsquo;s occasional little
+      jealous tiffs and decided disapproval. Mysie never thought, however, about
+      the situation or its difficulties, she simply followed the moment&rsquo;s call
+      of kindness to Dolores, and, when it was possible, followed her own
+      inclinations, and enjoyed Fly&rsquo;s lively society.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Dolores was certainly softening and improving. A word to Mrs.
+      Halfpenny had secured the two girls being permitted to say their prayers
+      together in Dolores&rsquo;s room unmolested; and what was a reality to a
+      contemporary became less and less to Dolores a mere lesson imposed by the
+      authority of an elder. That link between religious instruction and daily
+      life, which is all important, yet so difficult to find, was being
+      gradually put into Dolores&rsquo;s hands by her little cousin-friend. Lady
+      Merrifield hoped and guessed it might be thus, from the questions that
+      Mysie asked her at times, and from the quickened attention Dolores showed
+      to her religious lessons, and her less dull and indifferent air at church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It could not be said that she was different with the others. She was
+      depressed, and wanted spirits for enjoyment, nor would active romping
+      diversions ever be pleasant to her. She had not the nature for them, and
+      was not young enough to learn to like them. It could not but seem foolish
+      to her to race about as a Croat or a savage, and she only beheld with
+      wonder Gillian&rsquo;s genuine delight in games not merely entered into for the
+      sake of the little ones. But there was a strong devotion growing up in her
+      to her aunt and to Mysie, and what they asked of her she did&mdash;even
+      when on a wet day her aunt condemned her to learn battledore and
+      shuttle-cock of Gillian, who was equally to be pitied for the awkwardness
+      of her pupil and the banter of her brothers, while Dolly picked up her
+      shuttlecock and tossed it off with grim determination, as if doing penance
+      for this dismal half hour. She managed better in the games where ready
+      sharpness of intellect or memory was wanted, and she liked these, and
+      would have liked them still better if Uncle Reginald had not always looked
+      astonished if she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did her part, too, in the little play, being one of the chorus of the
+      maidens who &lsquo;make a vow to make a row.&rsquo; Lady Merrifield had, according to
+      the general request, saved disputes by casting the parts, Gillian being
+      the sage old woman who brought the damsels to reason. Fly, the prime mover
+      of the tumult, and Mysie, her confidante, while Val and Dolly made up the
+      mob. A little manipulation of skirts, tennis-aprons, ribbons, and caps
+      made very nice peasant costumes. Hal was the self-important Bailli, and
+      Jasper the drummer, the part of gens-d&rsquo;armes being all that Wilfred and
+      Fergus could be trusted with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Rotherwood came back, and his little daughter&rsquo;s ecstacy was goodly to
+      see, as she danced about her daddy, almost bursting with the secret of
+      what he was to see after dinner, and showing herself so brilliantly well
+      and happy that he congratulated himself upon her mother&rsquo;s satisfaction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the elders were at dinner, Gillian, with Miss Vincent&rsquo;s help,
+      finished off the arrangements. There were no outsiders, except the Vicar
+      and Mr. Pollock who had been asked to dinner, for Lady Merrifield said she
+      never liked to make her children an exhibition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are an old-fashioned Lily,&rsquo; said her cousin, &lsquo;and happily not
+      concerned with popularity. It is a fine thing to be able to consult one&rsquo;s
+      children&rsquo;s absolute best.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The performance went off beautifully&mdash;at least so thought both actors
+      and spectators. The dignity of the Bailli and the meddling of the drummer
+      were alike delightful; Fly was charmingly arch and mutinous; Mysie very
+      straightforward; and the least successful personation was that of Gillian,
+      who had a fit of stage-fright, forgot sentences, and whirred her
+      spinning-wheel nervously, all the worse for being scolded by her brothers
+      behind the scenes, and assured that she was making a mull of the whole
+      affair. And she had been so spirited at the rehearsals, but she was at a
+      self-conscious age, and could not forget the four spectators. Very little
+      was required of Dolores, but that little she did simply and well, and Lord
+      Rotherwood, after watching her all the evening, observed to Lady
+      Merrifield, &lsquo;I should say your difficulties were diminishing, are they
+      not? The thunder-cloud seems to be a little lightened.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am so glad you think so, Rotherwood. I feel sure that all this distress
+      has drawn her nearer to us, only Regie won&rsquo;t believe it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Regie is prejudiced.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is he? I thought him specially fond of Maurice&rsquo;s child, and that this was
+      revulsion of feeling; but what I am afraid of is, that he will never
+      believe in her or like her again, whatever she may be, and she is really
+      fond of him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Reginald is not over disposed to believe in any woman&rsquo;s truth&mdash;outside
+      his own family and sisters. Poor fellow! I can&rsquo;t say he was well used.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What? I suppose he has bad his romance like other people&mdash;his little
+      episode, as my husband calls it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes; and I am afraid we were accountable for it. You remember we were at
+      Harthope Castle for the first two years after I was married, while
+      Rotherwood was brought up to the requirements of the Victorian age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The &mdash;th was quartered at Harfield, within easy distance, and a
+      splendid looking fellow like Regie was invaluable to Victoria, whenever
+      she wanted anything to go off well. Well, in those days I had a ward, my
+      mother&rsquo;s great niece, Maude Conway. A pretty winsome creature it was, and
+      an heiress in a moderate sort of way, and poor old Redge, after all his
+      little affairs, and he had had his share of them, was evidently in for it
+      at last. Victoria thought, as well as myself, it was the best thing for
+      them both. He was the sound-hearted, good fellow to keep her matters
+      straight, and she had enough for comfort without overweighting the
+      balance. So they were engaged but unluckily they had to wait till she was
+      of age, about eight months off, and they were both ridiculously shy, and
+      would not have the thing known, though Victoria said it was unwise. I
+      don&rsquo;t think even Jane suspected it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; I don&rsquo;t think she could have done so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, there was the season, and Victoria was not in condition for going
+      out, and Maude was all for staying quietly with her; but old Lady Conway
+      came about&mdash;a regular schemer&mdash;a woman I never could abide. She
+      had married off her own daughters, and wanted her niece to practise on,
+      that was the fact. Victoria says she always knew that she, Maude I mean,
+      was very impressionable and impulsive, and so she wanted to have her out
+      of harm&rsquo;s way; but one could not prevent her aunt from getting hold of her
+      and taking her out. Then people told us of her goings on with that scamp
+      Clanmacklosky and that sister of his. Victoria talked to her by the yard,
+      but she denied it, and we thought it all gossip. Regie came up for a
+      couple of nights, and she was as sweet on him as ever, and sent him away
+      thinking it all right; but the end of it was, she fought off going down to
+      Rotherwood with us, but went to Brighton with Lady Conway, and the next
+      thing we heard was that she wrote to throw Reginald over, and she married
+      Clanmacklosky a month after she was twenty-one! I don&rsquo;t think I ever saw
+      Victoria so cut up, for we had really liked the girl and thought well of
+      her. To this hour I believe it was all that woman&rsquo;s doing, and that poor
+      Maude has supped sorrow. She has lost all her good looks.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And Regie has never got over it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not so as to believe in a woman again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He used to be rather a joke for susceptibility, and was still a regular
+      boy when we went out to Gibraltar. I thought him much graver.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Exactly; since that affair his soul has gone into his regiment. It&rsquo;s a
+      wife to him, and luckily he got his promotion in time, so as not to be
+      shelved.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I suppose it was really an escape.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know&mdash;she would have done very well in his hands. She is the
+      sort of woman to be as you make her, and even now is a world too good for
+      Clan. Victoria can never be quite cordial with her, but I can&rsquo;t see the
+      poor harassed thing without thinking what a sweet creature she once was,
+      and wishing I&rsquo;d had the sense to look after her better. But what I came
+      here for, Lily, was to say you must let me have that Mysie of yours, since
+      you won&rsquo;t come yourself to this concern of ours. I&rsquo;m afraid you won&rsquo;t
+      think much good has come of us, but we couldn&rsquo;t do the Country Mouse much
+      harm in a fortnight; and you know it is the wish of my heart that my
+      lonely Fly should grow up on such terms with your flock as Florence and I
+      did with you all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He pleaded quite piteously, and he was backed up by a letter from his
+      wife, very grateful for her little Phyllis&rsquo;s happy visit, reiterating the
+      invitation to Lady Merrifield, and begging that if she still could not
+      come herself, she would at least send Jasper and Mysie for the Butterfly&rsquo;s
+      Ball. Mysie&rsquo;s fancy dress would be ready for her, only waiting for the
+      final touches after it was tried on. Lady Florence Devereux, too, was near
+      at hand, and wrote to promise to look after Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no refusing after this. Lady Florence was not far from being
+      like a sister to her cousins. She had tended her mother&rsquo;s old age, and had
+      subsequently settled down into the lady of all work of Rotherwood parish.
+      Lady Merrifield had much confidence in her, and indeed all she saw of Fly
+      gave her a great respect for Lady Rotherwood&rsquo;s management of her child.
+      Harry was going to his uncle&rsquo;s at Beechcroft for some shooting, and would
+      bring Mysie home when Jasper went back to school.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Gillian was called to her mother&rsquo;s room to be told first of the
+      arrangement, which certainly in some aspects was rather hard on her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I could not help it, my dear,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, &lsquo;without absolutely
+      asking for an invitation for you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, mamma; and it is Mysie who is Fly&rsquo;s friend, being the same age and
+      all. It is quite right, and I understand it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I am so glad I can do such a thing as this. If there were small
+      jealousies among you, I could not venture on letting you be set aside, for
+      I know the disappointment was quite as great to you as to Mysie, when we
+      gave it up.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But she was better about it than I,&rsquo; said Gillian; &lsquo;mamma, your trusting
+      me in that way is better than a dozen balls. Besides, I know I should hate
+      being there without you; I&rsquo;m a great old thing, as Jasper says, neither
+      fish nor fowl, you know, not come out, and not a little girl in the
+      schoolroom, and it would be very horrid going to a grand place like that
+      on one&rsquo;s own account.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s right, Gillyflower. &lsquo;Tis very wholesome to discover the sourness
+      of the grapes. And as I think grandmamma is really coming, I shall want
+      you at home, and to look after Dolores.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s the worst of it, mamma; I shall never get on with her as Mysie
+      does.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We must do our best, for I do think really the poor child is improving.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Lessons will begin again! That&rsquo;s one comfort,&rsquo; said Gillian, rather
+      quaintly, thinking of the length of time that Dolores would thus be off
+      her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And now call Mysie. I must speak to her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Mysie, she was in a state of rapture. She knew her bliss before her
+      mother had communicated it, for Lord Rotherwood could not refrain from
+      telling his daughter that consent was gained, and Fly darted headlong to
+      embrace Mysie, dance round her and rejoice. The boys declared that Mysie
+      at once sprang into the air like a chamois, and that her head touched the
+      ceiling, but this is believed to be a figment of Jasper&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was only on the summons to her mother&rsquo;s room that Mysie discovered that
+      Gillian was not going with her. It dimmed the lustre of her delight for a
+      little while, &lsquo;Oh, Gill, aren&rsquo;t you very sorry? You ought to have had the
+      first turn.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never mind, Mysie, you are Fly&rsquo;s friend,&rsquo;&mdash;and the two sisters&rsquo; 
+      looks at one another at that moment were a real pleasure to their mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie was of a less shy nature than Gillian, as well as at a less awkward
+      age, so that the visiting without her mother was less formidable, and she
+      rushed about wild with delight; but Dolores was very disconsolate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Every one I care for goes away and changes,&rsquo; she said in her melancholy
+      little sentiment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But it&rsquo;s only for a fortnight, Dolly, I don&rsquo;t think I could change so
+      fast.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, you will, among all those swells. You like Fly ever so much
+      better than me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie looked grieved and puzzled, but then exclaimed, in the tone of a
+      discovery, &lsquo;There are different sorts of likings, Dolly, don&rsquo;t you see. I
+      do love Fly very much, but you know you are like a sort of almost twin
+      sister to me. I like her best, but I care about you most!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With which curious distinction Dolores had to put up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. &mdash; A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Colonel Mohun took Wilfred to his school, which began its term earlier
+      than did Jasper&rsquo;s, and Silver-ton was wonderfully quiet. The elder Mrs.
+      Merrifield was not to come for nearly a week, so that it would have been
+      possible for her daughter-in-law to go to the Rotherwood festivities
+      without interfering with her visit, but this no one except Gillian and
+      Mysie knew, and they kept the secret well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The departure of the boys was a great relief to Dolores. Her aunt did not
+      rank her with Valetta and Fergus, but let her consort with herself and
+      Gillian, and this suited her much better. Even Gillian allowed that she
+      was ever so much nicer when there was no one to tease her. It was true
+      that Jasper certainly, and perhaps Wilfred, would not have molested her if
+      she had not offended the latter, and offered herself as fair game; but
+      Gillian, who had to forestall and prevent their pranks, could not feel
+      their absence quite the privation her sisterly spirit usually did!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valetta and Fergus were harmless without them, but they were forlorn,
+      being so much used to having their sports led by their two seniors that
+      they hardly knew what to do without them, and the entreaty, or rather the
+      whine, &lsquo;I want something to do,&rsquo; was heard unusually often. This led to
+      Gillian&rsquo;s being often called off to attend to them during the course of
+      wet days that ensued, and thus Dolores was a good deal alone with her
+      aunt, who was superintending her knitting a pair of silk stockings to send
+      out to her father, it was hoped in time for his next birthday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the first proposal, Dolores looked dull and unwilling, and at last she
+      squeezed out, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think father will ever want me to do anything for
+      him again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My poor child, do you think a father does not forgive and love all the
+      more one who is in deep sorrow for a fault?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think my letter seemed sorry! I was not half so sorry then as I
+      am now,&rsquo; then at a kind word from her aunt her eyes overflowed, and she
+      said, &lsquo;No, I wasn&rsquo;t; I didn&rsquo;t know how good you were, or how bad I was!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when Aunt Lily kissed her, she put her arms round the kind neck that
+      bent down to her, and laid her head against it, as if it was quite a rest
+      to feel that love. Her aunt encouraged her to write again to her father,
+      and to try to express something of her grief and entreaty for forgiveness,
+      and she was somewhat cheered after this; as though something of the load
+      on her mind was removed. One day she brought down all the books in her
+      room and said, &lsquo;Please, Aunt Lily, look at them, and let them be with the
+      rest in the schoolroom, I want to be just like the others.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield was much pleased with this surrender. Some of the books
+      were really well worth having and reading, indeed, the best of them she
+      knew, but there were eight or ten which she suspected of being what Mysie
+      called silly stories, and she kept them back to look over. She had been
+      trying in this quiet interval to get Dolly to read something besides mere
+      childish stories for recreation; and when she saw how well worn the story
+      books were, and how untouched the &lsquo;easy history,&rsquo; and the books about
+      animals and foreign countries were, she saw why so clever a girl as
+      Dolores seemed so stupid about everything she had not learnt as a lesson,
+      and entirely ignorant of English poetry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield read to her and Gillian in the evenings, and how they did
+      enjoy it, and bemoaned the coming of grandmamma, to spoil their snugness
+      and occupy &lsquo;mamma.&rsquo; For Dolores began so to call Lady Merrifield. She had
+      never so termed her own mother, and it seemed to her that with the words
+      &lsquo;Aunt Lily&rsquo; she put away all sorts of foolish, sinister feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mrs. Merrifield was a wonderful old lady, brisk of mind and body, though
+      of great age. She had been spending Christmas with her eldest son, the
+      Admiral, at Stokesley, and was going to take on her way the
+      daughter-in-law, of whom she knew but little in comparison; and with her
+      she brought the granddaughter, Elizabeth Merrifield, who&mdash;since her
+      own daughter had died&mdash;generally lived with her in London, to take
+      care of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It will be all company and horrid, and nobody will be allowed to make a
+      noise!&rsquo; sighed Valetta to Fergus, as the waggonette, well shut up, drove
+      to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There&rsquo;s cousin Bessie,&rsquo; said Fergus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, cousin Bessie is thirty-four, and that is as bad as being as old as
+      grandmamma!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they hung back while the old lady was helped out, and brought across
+      the hall into the warm drawing-room before her fur cloak was taken off.
+      There was a quiet little person with her, and Val whispered, &lsquo;She&rsquo;ll be
+      just like Aunt Jane.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the eyes that Bessie turned on her cousins were not at an like Aunt
+      Jane&rsquo;s little searching black ones. They were of a dark shade of grey, and
+      had a wonderful softness and sweetness in them. Gillian knew her a little
+      already, but very little, for there had always been the elder sisters at
+      their former short meetings. Mamma lamented that there should be so few
+      grandchildren at home to be shown, though, as she said, &lsquo;the full number
+      might have been too noisy.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grandmamma shook her head. &lsquo;I like the house full,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;I&rsquo;m all
+      right, but it is a pity to see the nest emptied, like Stokesley, now.
+      Nobody left at home but Susan and little Sally! Make the most of them
+      while you have them about you!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old lady was quite delighted to find Primrose so nearly a baby, and to
+      have one grandchild still quite as small or smaller than some of her great
+      grandchildren whom she had never seen. Her great pleasure, however, soon
+      proved to be in talking about her son Jasper, and hearing all his wife
+      could tell her about his life in India; and as Lady Merrifield liked no
+      other subject so well, they were very happy together, and quite absorbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile Bessie made herself a companion to Gillian and Dolores, and
+      though so much older, seemed to consider herself as a girl like them.
+      Then, living for the most part in town, she could talk about London
+      matters to Dolly, and this was a great treat, while yet she had country
+      tastes enough to suit Gillian, and was not in the least afraid of a long
+      walk to the fir plantations to pick up Weymouth pine cones, and the still
+      more precious pinaster ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the first time Gillian began to see Dolores as Uncle Reginald used to
+      know her, free from that heavy mist of sullen dislike to everything and
+      everybody. It seemed to bring them together, but, in spite of Bessie&rsquo;s
+      charms, they both continually missed Mysie, out of doors and in, in
+      schoolroom and drawing-room, and, above all, in Dolly&rsquo;s bedroom. She
+      seemed to be, as Gillian told Bessie, &lsquo;a sort of family cement, holding
+      the two ends, big and little, together;&rsquo; and Bessie responded that her
+      elder sister Susan was one of that sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The evenings now were quite unlike the usual ones. Dinner was late, and
+      the two girls came down to it. Afterwards the young ones sat round the
+      fire in the hall, where Bessie, who was a wonderful story-teller, kept
+      Fergus and Valetta quiet and delighted, either with invented tales or
+      histories of the feats of her own brothers and sisters, who were so much
+      older than their Silverton first cousins as to be like an elder
+      generation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the two young ones were gone to bed, the others came into the
+      drawing-room, where mamma and grandmamma were to be found, either going
+      over papa&rsquo;s letters, or else Mrs. Merrifield talking about her Stokesley
+      grandchildren, the same whose pranks Bessie had just been telling, so that
+      it was not easy to believe in Sam, a captain in the navy. Harry and John
+      farming in Canada, David working as a clergy-man in the Black Country,
+      George in a government office, Anne a clergyman&rsquo;s wife, and mother to the
+      great grandchildren who were always being compared to Primrose, Susan
+      keeping her father&rsquo;s house, and Sarah, though as old as Alethea, still
+      treated as the youngest&mdash;the child of the family.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bits of conversation came to the girls as they sat over their work,
+      and Bessie would join in, and tell interesting things, till she saw that
+      grandmamma was ready for her nap, and then one or other gave a little
+      music, during which Dolly&rsquo;s bed-time generally came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You can&rsquo;t think how grateful I am to you for helping to brighten up that
+      poor child in a wholesome way!&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield to Bessie, under
+      cover of Gillian&rsquo;s performance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One can&rsquo;t help being very sorry for her,&rsquo; said Elizabeth, who knew what
+      was hanging over Dolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, it is a terrible punishment, especially as she has a certain
+      affection for her step-uncle, or whatever he should be called, for her
+      mother&rsquo;s sake. It really was a perplexed situation.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But why did she not consult you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you know, I think I have found out. She held aloof from us all, and
+      treated us&mdash;especially me&mdash;as if we were her natural enemies,
+      and I never could guess what was the reason till the other day; she
+      voluntarily gave me up all her books to be looked over and put into the
+      common stock, which you saw in the schoolroom.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You look over all the children&rsquo;s books?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes. While we were wandering, they did not get enough to make it a very
+      arduous task, and now I find that they want weeding. If children read
+      nothing but a multitude of stories rather beneath their capacity, they are
+      likely never to exert themselves to anything beyond novel reading.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That is quite true, I believe.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, among this literature of Dolly&rsquo;s I found no less than four stories
+      based on the cruelty and injustice suffered by orphans from their aunts.
+      The wicked step-mothers are gone out, and the barbarous aunts are come in.
+      It is the stock subject. I really think it is cruel, considering that
+      there are many children who have to be adopted into uncles&rsquo; families, to
+      add to their distress and terror, by raising this prejudice. Just look at
+      this one&rsquo;&mdash;taking up Dolly&rsquo;s favourite, &lsquo;Clare; or No Home&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;it
+      is not at all badly written, which makes it all the worse.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Aunt Lilias,&rsquo; cried Bessie, whose colour had been rising all this
+      time. &lsquo;How shall I tell you? I wrote it!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You! I never guessed you did anything in that line.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We don&rsquo;t talk about it. My father knows, and so does grandmamma, in a
+      way; but I never bring it before her if I can help it, for she does not
+      half like the notion. But, indeed, they aren&rsquo;t all as bad as that! I know
+      now there is a great deal of silly imitation in it; but I never thought of
+      doing harm in this way. It is a punishment for thoughtlessness,&rsquo; cried
+      poor Bessie, reddening desperately, and with tears in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I am so sorry I said it! If I bad not one of these aunts, I
+      should think it a very effective story.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid that&rsquo;s so much the worse! Let me tell you about it, Aunt
+      Lilias. At home, they always laughed at me for my turn for dismalities.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I believe one always has such a turn when one is young.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, when I went to live with grandmamma, it was very different from the
+      houseful at home, I had so much time on my hands, and I took to dreaming
+      and writing because I could not help it, and all my stories were fearfully
+      doleful. I did not think of publishing them for ever so long, but at last
+      when David terribly wanted some money for his mission church, I thought I
+      would try, and this Clare was about the best. They took it, and gave me
+      five pounds for it, and I was so pleased and never thought of its doing
+      harm, and now I don&rsquo;t know how much more mischief it may have done!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You only thought of piling up the agony! But don&rsquo;t be unhappy about it.
+      You don&rsquo;t know how many aunts it may have warned.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid aunts are not so impressionable as nieces. And, indeed, among
+      ourselves story-books seemed quite outside from life, we never thought of
+      getting any ideas from them any more than from Bluebeard.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So it has been with some of mine, while, on the other hand, Dolores
+      seemed to Mysie an interesting story-book heroine&mdash;which indeed she
+      is, rather too much so. But you have not stood still with Clare.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, I hope I have grown rather more sensible. David set me to do stories
+      for his lads, and, as he is dreadfully critical, it was very improving.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you write &lsquo;Kate&rsquo;s Jewel&rsquo;? That is delightful. Aunt Jane gave it to
+      Val this Christmas, and all of us have enjoyed it! We shall be quite proud
+      of it&mdash;that is&mdash;may I tell the children?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, aunt, you are very good to try to make me forget that miserable
+      Clare. I wonder whether it will do any good to tell Dolores all about it.
+      Only I can&rsquo;t get at all the other girls I may have hurt.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nay, Bessie, I think it most likely that Dolores would have been an
+      uncomfortable damsel, even if Clare had remained in your brain. There were
+      other causes, at any rate, here are three more persecuted nieces in her
+      library. Besides, as you observed, everybody does not go to story-books
+      for views of human nature, and happily, also, homeless children are
+      commoner in books than out of them, so I don&rsquo;t think the damage can be
+      very extensive.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;One such case is quite enough! Indeed, it is a great lesson to think
+      whether what one writes can give any wrong notion.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I believe one always does begin with imitation.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, it is extraordinary how little originality there is in the world. In
+      the literature of my time, everybody had small hands and high foreheads,
+      the girls wanted to do great things, and did, or did not do, little ones,
+      and the boys all took first classes, and the fashion was to have violet
+      eyes, so dark you could not tell their colour, and golden hair.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Whereas now the hair is apt to be bronze, whatever that may be like.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And all the dresses, and all the complexions, and all the lace, and all
+      the roses, are creamy. Bessie, I hope you don&rsquo;t deal in creaminess!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid skim milk is more like me, and that you would say I had taken
+      to the goody line. I never thought of the responsibility then, only when I
+      wrote for David&rsquo;s classes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is a responsibility, I suppose, in the way in which every word one
+      speaks and every letter one writes is so. And now&mdash;here is Gillian
+      finishing her piece. How far is it a secret, my dear.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It need not be so here, Aunt Lilias. Only my people are rather
+      old-fashioned, you know, and are inclined to think it rather shocking of
+      me, so it ought not to go beyond the family, and especially don&rsquo;t &lsquo;let
+      her,&rsquo; indicating her grandmother, &lsquo;hear about it. She knows I do such
+      things&mdash;it would not be honest not to tell her&mdash;but it goes
+      against the grain, and she has never heard one word of it all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It appeared that Bessie daily read the psalms and lessons to grandmamma,
+      followed up by a sermon. Then, with her wonderful eyes, Mrs. Merrifield
+      read the newspaper from end to end, which lasted her till luncheon, then
+      came a drive in the brougham, followed by a rest in her own room, dinner,
+      and then Bessie read her to sleep with a book of travels or biography, of
+      the old book-club class of her youth. Her principles were against novels,
+      and the tale she viewed as only fit for children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield could not help thinking what a dull life it must be for
+      Bessie, a woman full of natural gifts and of great powers of enjoyment,
+      accustomed to a country home and a large family, and she said something of
+      the kind. &lsquo;I did not like it at first,&rsquo; said Bessie, &lsquo;but I have plenty of
+      occupations now, besides all these companions that I&rsquo;ve made for myself,
+      or that came to me, for I think they come of themselves.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But what time have you to yourself?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Grandmamma does not want me till half-past ten in the morning, except for
+      a little visit. And she does not mind my writing letters while she is
+      reading the paper, provided I am ready to answer anything remarkable. I am
+      quite the family newsmonger! Then there&rsquo;s always from four to half-past
+      six when I can go out if I like. There&rsquo;s a dear old governess of ours
+      living not far off, and we have nice little expeditions together. And you
+      know it is nice to be at the family headquarters in London, and have every
+      one dropping in.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh dear! how good you are to like going on like that,&rsquo; said Gillian, who
+      had come up while this was passing; &lsquo;I should eat my heart out; you must
+      be made up of contentment.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Elizabeth held up her hand in warning lest her grandmother should be
+      wakened, but she laughed and said, &lsquo;My brothers would tell you I used to
+      be Pipy Bet. But that dear old governess. Miss Fosbrook, was the making of
+      me, and taught me how to be jolly like Mark Tapley among the
+      rattlesnakes,&rsquo; she finished, looking drolly up to Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And, Gill, you don&rsquo;t know what Bessie has made her companions instead of
+      the rattlesnakes,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;What do you think of &ldquo;Kate&rsquo;s
+      Jewel?&rdquo;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian&rsquo;s astonishment and rapture actually woke grandmamma; not that she
+      made much noise, but there was a disturbing force about her excitement;
+      and the subject had to be abandoned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the great secret might be shared with Dolores, though not with the
+      younger ones, whose discretion could not be depended upon, Gillian could
+      enter upon it the more freely, though she was rather disappointed that an
+      author was not such an extraordinary sight to Dolly as to herself. But it
+      was charming to both that Bessie let them look at the proofs of the story
+      she was publishing in a magazine; and allowed them as well as mamma, to
+      read the manuscript of the tale, romance, or novel, whichever it was to be
+      called, on which she wished for her aunt&rsquo;s opinion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bessie took care, when complying with the girls&rsquo; entreaty, that she would
+      tell them all she had written; to observe that, she thought &lsquo;Clare&rsquo; a very
+      foolish book indeed, and that she wished heartily she had never written
+      it. Gillian asked why she had done it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh,&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;things aren&rsquo;t interesting unless something horrid
+      happens, or some one is frightened, or very miserable.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I like things best just and exactly as they really are&mdash;or were,&rsquo; 
+      said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The question between sensation and character,&rsquo; said Bessie to her aunt.
+      &lsquo;I suppose that, on the whole, it is the few who are palpably affected by
+      the mass of fiction in the world; but that it is needful to take good care
+      that those few gather at least no harm from one&rsquo;s work&mdash;to be
+      faithful in it, in fact, like other things.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And there was no doubt that Bessie had been faithful in her work ever
+      since she had realized her vocation. Her lending library books, written
+      with a purpose, were excellent, and were already so much valued by Miss
+      Hacket, that Gillian thought how once she should have felt it a privation
+      not to be allowed to tell her whence they came; but to her surprise on the
+      Sunday, instead of the constraint with which of late she had been treated
+      at tea-time, the eager inquiry was made whether this was really the
+      authoress, Miss Merrifield?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Secrets are not kept as well as people think. The Hackets&rsquo; married sister
+      was a neighbour of Bessie&rsquo;s married sister, and through these ladies it
+      had just come round, not only who was the author of &lsquo;Charlie&rsquo;s Whistle,&rsquo; 
+      etc., but that she wrote in the &mdash;&mdash; Magazine, and was in the
+      neighbourhood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All offences seemed to be forgotten in the burning desire for an
+      introduction to this marvel of success. Constance had made the most of her
+      opportunities in gazing at church; but if she called, would she be
+      introduced?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course,&rsquo; said Gillian, &lsquo;if my cousin is in the room.&rsquo; She spoke rather
+      coldly and gravely, and Miss Hacket exclaimed&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I know we have been a little remiss, my dear, I hope Lady Merrifield was
+      not offended.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma is never offended,&rsquo; said Gillian&mdash;&lsquo;but, I do think, and so
+      would she and all of us, that if Constance comes, she ought to treat
+      Dolores Mohun&mdash;as&mdash;as usual.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two sisters were silent, perhaps from sheer amazement at this outbreak
+      of Gillian&rsquo;s, who had never seemed particularly fond of her cousin.
+      Gillian was quite as much surprised at herself, but something seemed to
+      drive her on, with flaming cheeks. &lsquo;Dolores is half broken-hearted about
+      it all. She did not thoroughly know how wrong it was; and it does make her
+      miserable that the one who went along with her in it should turn against
+      her, and cut her and all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Connie never meant to keep it up, I&rsquo;m sure,&rsquo; said Miss Hacket; &lsquo;but she
+      was very much hurt.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So was Dolly,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is she so fond of me?&rsquo; said Constance, in a softened tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She was,&rsquo; replied Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure,&rsquo; said Miss Hacket, &lsquo;our only wish is to forget and forgive as
+      Christians. Lady Merrifield has behaved most handsomely, and it is our
+      most earnest wish that this unfortunate transaction should be forgotten.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And I&rsquo;m sure I&rsquo;m willing to overlook it all,&rsquo; said Constance. &lsquo;One must
+      have scrapes, you know; but friendship will triumph over all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gillian did not exactly wish to unravel this fine sentiment, and was glad
+      that the little G.F.S. maid came in with the tea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Merrifield was a good deal diverted with Gillian&rsquo;s report, and
+      invited the two sisters to luncheon on the plea of their slight
+      acquaintance with Anne&mdash;otherwise Mrs. Daventry&mdash;with a hint in
+      the note not to compliment Mrs. Merrifield on Elizabeth&rsquo;s production.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Dolores had to be prepared to receive any advance from Constance. She
+      looked disgusted at first, and then, when she heard that Gillian had
+      spoken her mind, said, &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t think why you should care.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course I care, to have Constance behaving so ill to one of us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you think me one of you, Gillian?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Who, what else are you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Dolores held up her face for a kiss, a heartier one than had ever
+      passed between the cousins. There was no kiss between the quondam friends,
+      but they shook hands with perfect civility, and no stranger would have
+      guessed their former or their present terms from their manner. In fact,
+      Constance was perfectly absorbed in the contemplation of the successful
+      authoress, the object of her envy and veneration, and only wanted to
+      forget all the unpleasantness connected with the dark head on the opposite
+      side of the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh Miss Merrifield,&rsquo; she asked, in an interval afterwards, when hats were
+      being put on, &lsquo;bow do you make them take your things?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said Bessie, smiling. &lsquo;I take all the pains I can, and try
+      to make them useful.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Useful, but that&rsquo;s so dull&mdash;and the critics always laugh at things
+      with a purpose.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But I don&rsquo;t think that is a reason for not trying to do good, even in
+      this very small and uncertain way. Indeed,&rsquo; she added, earnestly. &lsquo;I have
+      no right to speak, for I have made great mistakes; but I wanted to tell
+      you that the one thing I did get published, which was not written
+      conscientiously&mdash;as I may say&mdash;but only to work out a silly,
+      sentimental fancy, has brought me pain and punishment by the harm I know I
+      did.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was a very new idea to Constance, and she actually carried it away
+      with her. The visit had restored the usual terms of intercourse with the
+      Hackets, though there was no resumption of intimacy such as there had
+      been, between Constance and Dolores. It had, however, done much to make
+      the latter feel that the others considered themselves one with them, and
+      there was something that drew them together in the universal missing of
+      Mysie, and eagerness for her letters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These were, however, rather disappointing. Mysie had not a genius for
+      correspondence, and dealt in very bare facts. There was an enclosure which
+      made Lady Merrifield somewhat anxious:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My Dear Mamma, &lsquo;This is for you all by yourself. I have been in sad
+      mischief, for I broke the conservatory and a palm-tree with my umbrella;
+      and I did still worse, for I broke my promise and told all about what you
+      told me never to. I will tell you all when I come home, and I hope you
+      will forgive me. I wish I was at home. It is very horrid when they say one
+      is good and one knows one is not; but I am very happy, and Lord Rotherwood
+      is nicer than ever, and so is Fly. &lsquo;I am your affectionate and penitent
+      and dutiful little daughter,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;MARIA MILLICENT MERRIFIELD.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With all mamma&rsquo;s intuitive knowledge of her little daughter&rsquo;s mind and
+      forms of expression, she was puzzled by this note and the various
+      fractures it described. She obeyed its injunctions of secrecy, even with
+      regard to Gillian and Bessie, though she could not help wishing that the
+      latter could have seen and judged of her Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grandmamma was somewhat disappointed to have missed her eldest grandson,
+      but she was obliged to leave Silverton two days before his return with his
+      little sister. She had certainly escaped the full tumult of the entire
+      household, but Bessie observed that she suspected that it might have been
+      preferred to the general quiescence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of all the regrets that Bessie&rsquo;s more coeval cousins, Alethea and
+      Phyllis were not at home, she and her aunt each felt that a new friendship
+      had been made, and that they understood each other, and Bessie had uttered
+      her resolution henceforth always to think of the impression for good or
+      evil produced on the readers, as well as of the effectiveness of her
+      story. &lsquo;Little did I suppose that &lsquo;Clare&rsquo; would add to any one&rsquo;s
+      difficulties,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;still less to yours, Aunt Lilias.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. &mdash; CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Here were the travellers at home again, and Mysie clinging to her mother,
+      with, &lsquo;Oh, Mamma!&rsquo; and a look of perfect rest. They arrived at the same
+      time as Dolores had come, so late that Mysie was tired out, and only half
+      awake. She was consigned to Mrs. Halfpenny after her first kiss, but as
+      she passed along the corridor, a door was thrown back, and a white figure
+      sprang upon her. &lsquo;Oh, Mysie! Mysie!&rsquo; and in spite of the nurse&rsquo;s chidings,
+      held her fast in an embrace of delight. Dolores had been lying awake
+      watching for her, and implored permission at least to look on while she
+      was going to bed!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry meanwhile related his experiences to his mother and Gillian over the
+      supper-table. The Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball had been a great success. He had never
+      seen anything prettier in his life. Plants and lights had been judiciously
+      disposed so as to make the hall a continuation of the conservatory, almost
+      a fairy land, and the children in their costumes had been more like
+      fairies than flesh and blood, pinafore and bread-and-butter beings. There
+      was a most perfect tableau at the opening of the scenery constructed with
+      moss and plants, so as to form a bower, where the Butterfly and
+      Grasshopper, with their immediate attendants, welcomed their company, and
+      afterwards formed the first quadrille, Lady Phyllis, with Mysie and two
+      other little girls staying in the house, being the butterflies, and Lord
+      Ivinghoe and three more boys of the same ages, the grasshoppers, in pages&rsquo; 
+      dresses of suitable colours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I never thought,&rsquo; said Harry, &lsquo;that our little brown mouse would come out
+      so pretty or so swell.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She wanted to be the dormouse,&rsquo; said Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That was impracticable. They were all heath butterflies of different
+      sorts, wings very correctly coloured and dresses to correspond. Phyllis
+      the ringlet with the blue lining, Mysie, the blue one, little Lady
+      Alberta, the orange-tip, and the other child the burnet moth.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How did Mysie dance?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very fairly, if she had not looked so awfully serious. The
+      dancing-mistress, French, of course, had trained them, it was more ballet
+      than quadrille, and they looked uncommonly pretty. Uncle William granted
+      that, though he grumbled at the whole concern as nonsense, and wondered
+      you should send your nice little girl into it to have her head turned.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you think she was happy?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, yes, of course. She always is, but she was in prodigious spirits when
+      we started to come home. Lady Rotherwood said I was to tell you that no
+      child could be more truthful and conscientious. Still somehow she did not
+      look like the swells. Except that once, when she was got up regardless of
+      expense for the ball, she always had the country mouse look about her. She
+      hadn&rsquo;t&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The &lsquo;Jenny Say Caw,&rsquo; as Macrae calls it?&rsquo; said his mother. &lsquo;Well, I can
+      endure that! You need not look so disgusted, Gill. You didn&rsquo;t hear of her
+      getting into any scrape, did you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Hal. &lsquo;Stay, I believe she did break some glass or other, and
+      blurted out her confession in full assembly, but I was over at Beechcroft,
+      and I am happy to say I didn&rsquo;t see her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie&rsquo;s tap came early to her mother&rsquo;s door the next morning, and it was
+      in the midst of her toilette that Lady Merrifield was called on to hear
+      the confession that had been weighing on the little girl&rsquo;s mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I was too sleepy to tell you last night, mamma, but I did want to do so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, then, my dear, begin at the beginning, for I could not understand
+      your letter.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The beginning was, mamma, that we had just come in from our walk, and we
+      went out into the schoolroom balcony, because we could see round the
+      corner who was coming up the drive. And we began playing at camps, with
+      umbrellas up as tents. Ivinghoe, and Alberta, and I. Ivy was general, and
+      I was the sentry, with my umbrella shut up, and over my shoulder. I was
+      the only one who knew how to present arms. I heard something coming, and
+      called out, &lsquo;Who goes there?&rsquo; and Alberta jumped up in such a hurry that
+      the points other tent&mdash;her umbrella, I mean&mdash;scratched my face,
+      and before I could recover arms, over went my umbrella, perpendicular,
+      straight smash through the glass of the conservatory, and we heard it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And what did you do? Of course you told!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes! I jumped up and said, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll go and tell Lady Rotherwood.&rsquo; I knew
+      I must before I got into a fright, and Ivinghoe said I couldn&rsquo;t then, and
+      he would speak to his mother and make it easy for me, and Ply says he
+      really meant it; but I thought then that&rsquo;s the way the bad ones always get
+      the others into concealments and lies. So I wouldn&rsquo;t listen a moment, and
+      I ran down, with him after me, saying, &lsquo;Hear reason, Mysie.&rsquo; And I ran
+      full butt up against some-body&mdash;Lord Ormersfield it was, I found&mdash;but
+      I didn&rsquo;t know then. I only said something about begging pardon, and dashed
+      on, and opened the door. I saw a whole lot of fine people all at
+      five-o&rsquo;clock tea, but I couldn&rsquo;t stop to get more frightened, and I went
+      up straight to Lady Rotherwood and said, &lsquo;Please, I did it.&rsquo; Mamma do you
+      think I ought not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There are such things as fit places and times, my dear. What did she
+      say?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At first she just said, &lsquo;My dear, I cannot attend to you now, run away;&rsquo; 
+      but then in the midst, a thought seemed to strike her, and she said,
+      rather frightened, &lsquo;Is any one hurt?&rsquo; and I said, Oh no; only my umbrella
+      has gone right through the roof of the conservatory, and I thought I ought
+      to come and tell her directly. &lsquo;That was the noise,&rsquo; said some of the
+      people, and everybody got up and went to look. And there were Fly and Ivy,
+      who had got in some other way, and the umbrella was sticking right upright
+      in the top of one of those palm-trees with leaves like screens, and
+      somebody said it was a new development of fruit. Lady Rotherwood asked
+      them what they were doing there, and Ivy said they had come to see what
+      harm was done. Dear Fly ran up to her and said, &lsquo;We were all at play
+      together, mother; it was not one more than another;&rsquo; but Lady Rotherwood
+      only said, &lsquo;That&rsquo;s enough, Phyllis, I will come to you by-and-by in the
+      schoolroom,&rsquo; and she would have sent us away if Cousin Rotherwood himself
+      had not come in just then, and asked what was the matter. I heard some of
+      the answers; they were very odd, mamma. One was, &lsquo;A storm of umbrellas and
+      of untimely confessions;&rsquo; and another was, &lsquo;Truth in undress.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, my dear? I hope you were fit to be seen?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I forgot about that, mamma, I had taken off my ulster, and had my little
+      scarlet flannel underbody, so as to make a better soldier.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; groaned Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And then that dear, good Fly gave a jump and flew at him, and said, &lsquo;Oh,
+      daddy, daddy, it&rsquo;s Mysie, and she has been telling the truth like&mdash;like
+      Frank, or Sir Thomas More, or George Washington, or anybody.&rsquo; She really
+      did say so, mamma.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I can quite believe it of her, Mysie! And how did Cousin Rotherwood
+      respond?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He sat down upon one of the seats, and took Fly on one knee and me on the
+      other, though we were big for it&mdash;just like papa, you know&mdash;and
+      made us tell him all about it. Lady Rotherwood got the others out of the
+      way somehow&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know how, for my back was that way, and I think
+      Ivinghoe went after them, but there was some use in talking to Cousin
+      Rotherwood; he has got some sense, and knows what one means, as if he was
+      at the dear, nice playing age, and Ivinghoe was his stupid old father in a
+      book.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Exactly,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, delighted, and longing to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But that was the worst of it,&rsquo; said Mysie, sadly; &lsquo;he was so nice that I
+      said all sorts of things I didn&rsquo;t mean or ought to have said. I told him I
+      would pay for the glass if he would only wait till we had helped Dolores
+      pay for those books that the cheque was for, because the man came alive
+      again, after her wicked uncle said he was dead, and so somehow it all came
+      out; how you made up to Miss Constance and couldn&rsquo;t come to the
+      Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball for want of new dresses.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, Mysie, you should not have said that! I thought you were to be
+      trusted!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, mamma, I know,&rsquo; said Mysie, meekly. &lsquo;I recollected as soon as I had
+      said it; and told him, and he kissed me and promised he would never tell
+      anyone, and made Fly promise that she never would. But I have been so
+      miserable about it ever since, mamma; I tried to write it in a letter, but
+      I am afraid you didn&rsquo;t half understand.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I only saw that something was on your mind, my dear. Now that is all
+      over, I do not so much mind Cousin Rotherwood&rsquo;s knowing, he has always
+      been so like a brother; but I do hope both he and Fly will keep their
+      word. I am more sorry for my little girl&rsquo;s telling than about his
+      knowing.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And Ivinghoe said my running in that way on all the company was worse
+      than breaking the glass or the palm-tree. Was it, mamma?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, you know, Mysie, there is a time for all things, and very likely it
+      vexed Lady Rotherwood more to be invaded by such a little wild colt.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But not Cousin Rotherwood himself, mamma,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;for he said I was
+      quite right, and an honourable little fellow, just like old times. And so
+      I told Ivy. And he said in such a way, &lsquo;Every one knew what his father
+      was.&rsquo; So I told him his father was ten thousand times nicer than ever he
+      would be if he lived a hundred years, and I could not bear him if he
+      talked in that wicked, disrespectful way, and Fly kissed me for it, mamma,
+      and said her daddy was worth a hundred of such a prig as he was.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My dear, I am afraid neither you nor Fly showed your good manners.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was only Ivinghoe, mamma, and I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t care what he thinks, if
+      he could talk of his father in that way. Isn&rsquo;t it what you call metallical&mdash;no&mdash;ironical?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Indeed, Mysie, I don&rsquo;t wonder it made you very angry, and I can&rsquo;t be
+      sorry you showed your indignation.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But please, mamma, what ought I to have done about the glass?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t quite know; I think a very wise little girl might have gone to
+      Cousin Florence&rsquo;s room and consulted her. It would have been better than
+      making an explosion before so many people. Florence was kind to you, I
+      hope.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh yes, mamma, it was almost like being at home in her room; and she has
+      such a dear little house at the end of the park.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A good deal more oozed out from Mysie to different auditors at different
+      times. By her account everything was delightful, and yet mamma concluded
+      that all had not absolutely fulfilled the paradisiacal expectation with
+      which her country mouse had viewed Rotherwood from afar. Lady Rotherwood
+      was very kind, and so was the governess, and Cousin Florence especially.
+      Cousin Florence&rsquo;s house felt just like a bit of home. It really was the
+      dearest little house&mdash;and fluffy cat and kittens, and the sweetest
+      love birds. It was perfectly delicious when they drank tea there, but
+      unluckily she was not allowed to go thither without the governess or
+      Louise, as it was all across the park, and a bit of village.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Fly? Oh, Fly was always dear and good and funny; but there was Alberta
+      to be attended to, and other little girls sometimes, and it was not like
+      having her here at home; nor was there any making a row in the galleries,
+      nor playing at anything really jolly, though the great pillars in the hall
+      seemed made for tying cords to make a spider&rsquo;s web. It was always company,
+      except when Cousin Rotherwood called them into his den for a little fun.
+      But he had gentlemen to entertain most of the time, and the only day that
+      he could have taken them to see the farm and the pheasants, Lady
+      Rotherwood said that Phyllis was a little hoarse and must not get a cold
+      before the ball.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as to the Butterfly&rsquo;s Ball itself? Imagination had depicted a splendid
+      realization of the verses, and it was flat to find it merely a children&rsquo;s
+      fancy ball, no acting at all, only dancing, and most of the children not
+      attempting any characteristic dress, only with some insect attached to
+      head or shoulder; nothing approaching to the fun of the rehearsal at
+      Silverton, as indeed Fly had predicted. The only attempt at representation
+      had cost Mysie more trouble than pleasure, for the training to dance
+      together had been a difficult and wearisome business. Two of the
+      grass-hoppers had been greatly displeased about it, and called it a
+      beastly shame, words much shocking gentle Mysie from aristocratic lips.
+      One of them had been as sulky, angry, and impracticable as possible, just
+      like a log, and the other had consoled himself with all manner of tricks,
+      especially upon the teacher and on Ivinghoe. He would skip like a real
+      grasshopper, he made faces that set all laughing, he tripped Ivinghoe up,
+      he uttered saucy speeches that Mysie considered too shocking to repeat,
+      but which convulsed every one with laughter, Fly most especially, and her
+      governess had punished her for it. &lsquo;She would not punish me,&rsquo; said Mysie,
+      &lsquo;though I know I was just as bad, and I think that was a shame!&rsquo; At last
+      the practising had to be carried on without the boys, and yet, when it
+      came to the point, both the recusants behaved as well and danced as
+      suitably as if they had submitted to the training like their sisters! And
+      oh! the dressing, that was worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I did not think I was so stupid,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;but I heard Louise tell
+      mademoiselle that I was trop bourgeoise, and mademoiselle answered that I
+      was plutot petite paysanne, and would never have l&rsquo;air de distinction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Abominable impertinence!&rsquo; cried Gillian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They thought I did not understand,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;and I knew it was fair
+      to tell them, so I said, &lsquo;Mais non, car je suis la petite souris de
+      compagne.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well done, Mysie!&rsquo; cried her sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They did jump, and Louise began apologizing in a perfect gabble, and
+      mademoiselle said I had de l&rsquo;esprit, but I am sure I did not mean it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But how could they?&rsquo; exclaimed Gillian. &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure Mysie looks like a
+      lady, a gentleman&rsquo;s child&mdash;I mean as much as Fly or any one else.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I trust you all look like gentlewomen, and are such in refinement and
+      manners, but there is an air, which comes partly of birth, partly of
+      breeding, and that none of you, except, perhaps, Alethea, can boast of,
+      and about which papa and I don&rsquo;t care one rush.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Has Fly got it, mamma?&rsquo; said Valetta. &lsquo;She seemed like one of ourselves.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, yes,&rsquo; put in Dolores. &lsquo;It was what made me think her stuck up. I
+      should have known her for a swell anywhere.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure Fly has no airs!&rsquo; exclaimed Val, hotly, and Gillian was ready to
+      second her; but Lady Merrifield explained. &lsquo;The absence of airs is one
+      ingredient, Val, both in being ladylike, and in the distinction in which
+      the maid justly perceived our Mouse to be deficient. Come, you foolish
+      girls, don&rsquo;t look concerned. Nobody but the maid would have ever let Mysie
+      perceive the difference.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie coloured and answered, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know; I saw the Fitzhughs look at me
+      at first as if they did not think I belonged, and Ivinghoe was always so
+      awfully polite that I thought he was laughing at me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ivinghoe must be horrid,&rsquo; broke out Valetta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The Fitzhughs said they would knock it out of him at Eton,&rsquo; returned
+      Mysie. &lsquo;They got very nice after the first day, and said Fly and I were
+      twice as jolly fellows as he was.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It further appeared that Mysie had had plenty of partners at the ball, and
+      on all occasions her full share of notice, the country neighbours
+      welcoming her as her mother&rsquo;s daughter, but most of them saying she was
+      far more like her Aunt Phyllis than her own mother. The dancing and
+      excitement so late at night had, however, tired her overmuch, she had
+      cramp all the remainder of the night, could eat no breakfast the next day,
+      and was quite miserable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I should like to have cried for you, mamma&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;but they were all
+      quite used to it, and not a bit tired. However, Cousin Florence came in,
+      and she was so kind. She took me to the little west room, and made me lie
+      on the sofa, and read to me till I went to sleep, and I was all right
+      after dinner and had a ride on Fly&rsquo;s old pony, Dormouse. She has the
+      loveliest new one, all bay, with a black mane and tail, called Fairy, but
+      Alberta had that. Oh it was so nice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Altogether Lady Merrifield was satisfied that her little girl had not been
+      spoilt for home by her taste of dissipation, though she did not hear the
+      further confidence to Dolores in the twilight by the schoolroom fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do you know, Dolly, though Fly is such a darling, and they all wanted to
+      be kind as well as they knew how, I came to understand how horrid you must
+      have felt when you came among the whole lot of us.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But you knew Fly already?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That made it better, but I don&rsquo;t like it. To feel one does not belong,
+      and to be afraid to open a door for fear it should be somebody&rsquo;s room, and
+      not quite to know who every one is. Oh, dear! it is enough to make anybody
+      cross and stupid. Oh, I am so glad to be back again.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m sure I am glad you are,&rsquo; and there was a little kissing match.
+      &lsquo;You&rsquo;ll always come to my room, won&rsquo;t you? Do you know, when Constance
+      came to luncheon, I only shook hands, I wouldn&rsquo;t try to kiss her. Was that
+      unforgiving?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I am sure I couldn&rsquo;t,&rsquo; said Mysie; &lsquo;did she try?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think so; I don&rsquo;t think I ever could kiss her; for I never should
+      have said what was not true without her, and that is what makes Uncle
+      Reginald so angry still. He would not kiss me even when he went away. Oh,
+      Mysie! that&rsquo;s worse than anything,&rsquo; and Dolores&rsquo;s face contracted with
+      tears very near at hand. &lsquo;I did always so love Uncle Regie, and he won&rsquo;t
+      forgive me, and father will be just the same.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poor dear, dear Dolly,&rsquo; said Mysie, hugging her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But you know fathers always forgive, and we will try and make a little
+      prayer about it, like the Prodigal Son&rsquo;s, you know.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t blow properly,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I think I can say him,&rsquo; said Mysie, and the little girls sat with
+      enfolded arms, while Mysie reverently went through the parable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But he had been very wicked indeed,&rsquo; objected Dolores, &lsquo;what one calls
+      dissipated. Isn&rsquo;t that making too much of such things as girls like us can
+      do.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said Mysie, knitting her young brows; &lsquo;you see if we are
+      as bad as ever we can be while we are at home, it is really and truly as
+      bad in us ourselves as in shocking people that run away, because it shows
+      we might have done anything if we had not been taken care of. And the poor
+      son felt as if he could not be pardoned, which is just what you do feel.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aunt Lily forgives me,&rsquo; said Dolores, wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And your father will, I&rsquo;m sure,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;though he is yet a great
+      way off. And as to Uncle Regie, I do wish something would happen that you
+      could tell the truth about. If you had only broken the palm-tree instead
+      of me, and I didn&rsquo;t do right even about that! But if any mischief does
+      happen, or accident, I promise you, Dolly, you shall have the telling of
+      it, if you have had ever so little to do with it, and then mamma will
+      write to Uncle Regie that you have proved yourself truthful.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores did not seem much consoled by this curious promise, and Mysie&rsquo;s
+      childishness suddenly gave way to something deeper. &lsquo;I suppose,&rsquo; she said,
+      &lsquo;if one is true, people find it out and trust one.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;People can&rsquo;t see into one,&rsquo; said Dolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Mamma says there is a bright side and a dark side from which to look at
+      everybody and everything,&rsquo; said Mysie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I know that,&rsquo; said Dolores; &lsquo;I looked at the dark side of you all when I
+      came here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Some day,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;your bright side will come round to Uncle Regie,
+      as it has to us, you dear, dear old Dolly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But do you know, Mysie,&rsquo; whispered Dolores, in her embrace, &lsquo;there&rsquo;s
+      something more dreadful that I&rsquo;m very much afraid of. Do you know there
+      hasn&rsquo;t been a letter from father since he was staying with Aunt Phyllis&mdash;not
+      to me, nor Aunt Jane, nor anybody!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, he couldn&rsquo;t write when he was at sea, I mean there wasn&rsquo;t any
+      post.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It would not take so long as this to get to Fiji; and besides. Uncle
+      Regie telegraphed to ask about that dreadful cheque, and there hasn&rsquo;t been
+      any answer at all.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perhaps he is gone about sailing somewhere in the Pacific Ocean; I heard
+      Uncle William saying so to Cousin Rotherwood.&rsquo; He said, &lsquo;Maurice is not a
+      fellow to resist a cruise.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then they are thinking about it. They are anxious.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not very,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;for they think he is sure to be gone on a cruise.
+      They said something about his going down like a carpenter into the deep
+      sea.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Making deep-sea soundings, like Dr. Carpenter! A carpenter, indeed!&rsquo; said
+      Dolores, laughing for a moment. &lsquo;Oh! if it is that, I don&rsquo;t mind.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The weight was lifted, but by-and-by, when the two girls said their
+      prayers together, poor Dolores broke forth again, &lsquo;Oh, Mysie, Mysie, your
+      papa has all&mdash;all of you, besides mamma, to pray that he may be kept
+      safe, and my father has only me, only horrid me, to pray for him, and even
+      I have never cared to do it really till just lately! Oh, poor, poor
+      father! And suppose he should be drowned, and never, never have forgiven
+      me!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a trouble and misery that recurred night after night, though
+      apparently it weighed much less during the day&mdash;and nobody but Mysie
+      knew how much Dolores was suffering from it. Lady Merrifield was
+      increasingly anxious as time went on, and still no mail brought letters
+      from Mr. Mohun, but confidence based on his erratic habits, and the
+      uncertainty of communication began to fail. And as she grieved more for
+      the possible loss, she became more and more tender to her niece, and
+      strange to say, in spite of the terror that gnawed so achingly every
+      night, and of the ordeal that the Lent Assizes would bring, Dolores was
+      happier and more peaceful than ever before at Silverton, and developed
+      more of her bright side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I really think,&rsquo; wrote Lady Merrifield to Miss Mohun, &lsquo;that she is
+      growing more simple and child-like, poor little maid. She is apparently
+      free from all our apprehensions about dear Maurice, and I would not
+      inspire her with them for the world. Neither does she seem to dread the
+      trial, as I do for her, nor to guess what cross-examination may be.
+      Constance Hacket has been subpoenaed, and her sister expatiates on her
+      nervousness. It is one comfort that Reginald must be there as a witness,
+      so that it is not in the power of Irish disturbances to keep him from us!
+      May we only be at ease about Maurice by that time!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. &mdash; IN COURT AND OUT.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      How Dolores&rsquo;s heart beat when Colonel Mohun drove up to the door! She
+      durst not run out to greet him among her cousins; but stood by her aunt,
+      feeling hot and cold and trembling, in the doubt whether he would kiss
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes, she did feel his kiss, and Mysie looked at her in congratulation. But
+      what did it mean? Was it only that it came as a matter of course, and he
+      forgot to withhold it, or was it that he had given up hopes of her father,
+      and was sorry for her? She could not make up her mind, for he came so late
+      in the evening that she scarcely saw him before bedtime, and he did not
+      take any special notice of her the next morning. He had done his best to
+      save her from being long detained at Darminster, by ascertaining as nearly
+      as possible when Flinders&rsquo;s case would come on, and securing a room at the
+      nearest inn, where she might await a summons into court. Lady Merrifield
+      was going with them, but would not take either of her daughters, thinking
+      that every home eye would be an additional distress, and that it was
+      better that no one should see or remember Dolores as a witness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Mohun met the party at the station, going off, however, with her
+      brother into court, after having established Lady Merrifield and her niece
+      in an inn parlour, where they kept as quiet as they could, by the help of
+      knitting, and reading aloud. Lady Merrifield found that Dolores had been
+      into court before, and knew enough about it to need no explanation or
+      preparation, and being much afraid of causing agitation, she thought it
+      best only to try to interest her in such tales as &lsquo;Neale&rsquo;s Triumphs of the
+      Cross,&rsquo; instead of letting her dwell on what she most dreaded, the sight
+      of the prisoner, and the punishment her words might bring upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The morning ended, and Uncle Reginald brought word that his case would
+      come on immediately after luncheon. This he shared with his sister and
+      niece, saying that Jane had gone to a pastrycook&rsquo;s with&mdash;with
+      Rotherwood&mdash;thinking this best for Dolly. He seemed to be in
+      strangely excited spirits, and was quite his old self to Dolores, tempting
+      her to eat, and showing himself so entirely the kind uncle that she would
+      have been quite cheered up if she had not been afraid that it was all out
+      of pity, and that he knew something dreadful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Rotherwood met them at the hotel entrance, and took his cousin on his
+      arm; Dolores following with her uncle, was sure that she gave a great
+      start at something that he said; but she had to turn in a different
+      direction to wait under the charge of her uncle, who treated her as if she
+      were far more childish and inexperienced in the ways of courts than she
+      really was, and instructed her in much that she knew perfectly well; but
+      it was too comfortable to have him kind to her for her to take the least
+      offence, and she only said &lsquo;Yes&rsquo; and &lsquo;Thank you&rsquo; at the proper places.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff, meantime, had given Lord Rotherwood and Lady Merrifield seats
+      near the judge, where Miss Mohun was already installed. Alfred Flinders
+      was already at the bar, and for the first time Lady Merrifield saw his
+      somewhat handsome but shifty-looking face and red beard, as the counsel
+      for the prosecution was giving a detailed account of his embarrassed
+      finances, and of his having obtained from the inexperienced kindness of a
+      young lady, a mere child in age, who called him uncle, though without
+      blood relationship, a draft of her father&rsquo;s for seven pounds, which, when
+      presented at the bank, had become one for seventy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As before, the presenting and cashing of the seventy pounds was sworn to
+      by the banker&rsquo;s clerk, and then Dolores Mary Mohun was called.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There she stood, looking smaller than usual in her black, close-fitting
+      dress and hat, in a place meant for grown people, her dark face pale and
+      set, keeping her eyes as much as she could from the prisoner. When the
+      counsel spoke she gave a little start, for she knew him, as one who had
+      often spent an evening with her parents, in the cheerful times while her
+      mother lived. There was something in the familiar glance of his eyes that
+      encouraged her, though he looked so much altered by his wig and gown, and
+      it seemed strange that he should question her, as a stranger, on her exact
+      name and age, her father&rsquo;s absence, the connection with the prisoner, and
+      present residence. Then came:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did your father leave any money with you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What was the amount?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Five pounds for myself; seven besides.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;In what form was the seven pounds?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A cheque from W.&lsquo;s bank.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you part with it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To whom?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I sent it to him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To whom if you please?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;To Mr. Alfred Flinders.&rsquo; And her voice trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can you tell me when you sent it away?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was on the 22nd of December.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Is this the cheque?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It has been altered.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Explain in what manner?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There has &lsquo;ty&rsquo; been put at the end of the written &lsquo;seven,&rsquo; and a cipher
+      after the figure 7 making it 70.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You are sure that it was not so when it went out of your possession?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Perfectly sure.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Calderwood seemed to have done with her, and said, &lsquo;Thank you;&rsquo; but
+      then there stood up a barrister, whom she suspected of being a man her
+      mother had disliked, and she knew that the worst was coming when he said,
+      in a specially polite voice too, &lsquo;Allow me to ask whether the cheque in
+      question had been intended by Mr. Mohun for the prisoner?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Or was it given to you as pocket-money?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, it was to pay a bill.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then did you divert it from that purpose?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought the man was dead.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What man?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Professor Muhlwasser.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The creditor?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Calderwood objected to these questions as irrelevant; but the
+      prisoner&rsquo;s counsel declared them to be essential, and the judge let him go
+      on to extract from Dolores that the payment was intended for an expensive
+      illustrated work on natural history, which was to be published in Germany.
+      Her father had promised to take two copies of it if it were completed; but
+      being doubtful whether this would ever be the case, he had preferred
+      leaving a draft with her to letting the account be discharged by his
+      brother, and he had reckoned that seven pounds would cover the expense.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You say you supposed the author was dead. What reason had you for
+      thinking so?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He told me; Mr. Flinders did.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Had Mr. Mohun sanctioned your applying this sum to any other purpose than
+      that specified?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, he had not. I did wrong,&rsquo; said Dolores, firmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He wrinkled up his forehead, so that the point of his wig went upwards,
+      and proceeded to inquire whether she had herself given the cheque to the
+      prisoner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I sent it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you post it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not myself. I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send it for me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Can you swear to the sum for which it was drawn when you parted with it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes. I looked at it to see whether it was pounds or guineas.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did you give it loose or in an envelope?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;In an envelope.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Was any other person aware of your doing so?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nobody.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What led you to make this advance to the prisoner?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Because he told me that he was in great distress.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He told you. By letter or in person?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;In person.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When did he tell you so?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;On the 22nd of December.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And where?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;At Darminster.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Let me ask whether this interview at Darminster took place with the
+      knowledge of the lady with whom you reside?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No, it did not,&rsquo; said Dolores, colouring deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Was it a chance meeting?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No&mdash;by appointment.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How was the appointment made?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We wrote to say we would come that day.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;We&mdash;who was the other party?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Miss Constance Hacket.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You were then in correspondence with the prisoner. Was it with the
+      sanction of Lady Merrifield?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;A secret correspondence, then, romantically carried on&mdash;by what
+      means?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Constance Hacket sent the letters and received them for me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What was the motive for this arrangement?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I knew my aunt would prevent my having anything to do with him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And you&mdash;excuse me&mdash;what interest had you in doing so?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My mother had been like his sister, and always helped him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All these answers were made with a grave, resolute straightforwardness,
+      generally with something of Dolores&rsquo;s peculiar stony look, and only twice
+      was there any involuntary token of feeling, when she blushed at confessing
+      the concealment from her aunt, and at the last question, when her voice
+      trembled as she spoke of her mother. She kept her eyes on her
+      interrogators all the time, never once glancing towards the prisoner,
+      though all the time she had a sensation as if his reproachful looks were
+      piercing her through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was dismissed, and Constance Hacket was brought in, looking about in
+      every direction, carrying a handkerchief and scent bottle, and not
+      attempting to conceal her flutter of agitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Calderwood had nothing to ask her but about her having received the
+      cheque from Miss Mohun and forwarded it to Flinders, though she could not
+      answer for the date without a public computation back from Christmas Day,
+      and forward from St. Thomas&rsquo;s. As to the amount&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, yes, certainly, seven pounds.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moreover she had posted it herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came the cross-examination,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Had she seen the draft before posting it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well&mdash;she really did not remember exactly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How did she know the amount then?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, I think&mdash;yes&mdash;I think Dolores told me so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You think,&rsquo; he said, in a sort of sneer. &lsquo;On your oath. Do you know?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, yes, yes. She assured me! I know something was said about seven.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then you cannot swear to the contents of the envelope you forwarded?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know. It was all such a confusion and hurry.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why so?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh! because it was a secret.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The counsel of course availed himself of this handle to elicit that the
+      witness had conducted a secret correspondence between the prisoner and her
+      young friend without the knowledge of the child&rsquo;s natural protectors. &lsquo;A
+      perfect romance,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;I believe the prisoner is unmarried.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps this insinuation would have been checked, but before any one had
+      time to interfere, Constance, blushing crimson, exclaimed, &lsquo;Oh! Oh! I
+      assure you it was not that. It was because she said he was her uncle and
+      that they ill-used him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This brought upon her the searching question whether the last witness had
+      stated the prisoner to be really her uncle, and Constance replied, rather
+      hotly, that she had always understood that he was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;In fact, she gave you to understand that the prisoner was actually
+      related to her by blood. Did you say that she also told you that he was
+      persecuted or ill-used by her other relations?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought so. Yes, I am sure she said so.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And it was wholly and solely on these grounds that you assisted in this
+      clandestine correspondence?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Why&mdash;yes&mdash;partly,&rsquo; faltered Constance, thinking of her literary
+      efforts, &lsquo;so it began.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a manifest inclination to laugh in the audience, who naturally
+      thought her hesitation implied something very different; and the judge,
+      thinking that there was no need to push her further, when Mr. Calderwood
+      represented that all this did not bear on the matter, and was no evidence,
+      silenced Mr. Yokes, and the witness was dismissed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next point was that Colonel Reginald Mohun was called upon to attest
+      that the handwriting was his brother&rsquo;s. He answered for the main body of
+      the draft, and the signature, but the additions, in which the forgery lay,
+      were so slight that it was impossible to swear that they did not come from
+      the hand of Maurice Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Had application been made to Mr. Mohun on the subject?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, Colonel Mohun had immediately telegraphed to him at the address in
+      the Fiji Islands.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Has any answer been received?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No!&rsquo; but Colonel Mohun had a curious expression in his eyes, and Mr.
+      Calderwood electrified the court by begging to call upon Mr. Maurice
+      Mohun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There he was in the witness-box, looking sunburnt but vigorous. He replied
+      immediately to the question that the cheque was his own, and that it had
+      been left under his daughter&rsquo;s charge, also that it had been for seven
+      pounds, and the &lsquo;ty&rsquo; and the cypher had never been written by him. The
+      prisoner winced for a moment, and then looked at him defiantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The connection with Alfred Flinders was inquired into and explained, and
+      being asked as to the term &lsquo;Uncle,&rsquo; he replied, &lsquo;My daughter was allowed
+      to get into the habit of so terming him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sisters saw his look of pain, and Jane remembered his strong objection
+      to the title, and his wife&rsquo;s indignant defence of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores stood trembling outside in the waiting-room, by her Uncle
+      Reginald, from whom she heard that her father had come that morning from
+      London with Lord Rotherwood, but that it had been thought better not to
+      agitate her by letting her know of it before she gave her evidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Has he had my letter?&rsquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; he knew nothing till he saw Rotherwood last night.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the misery of writing the confession came back upon poor Dolores, and
+      she turned quite white and sick, but her uncle said kindly, &lsquo;Never mind,
+      my dear, he was very much pleased with your manner of giving evidence.
+      Such a contrast to your friend&rsquo;s. Faugh!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few more seconds Mr. Mohun had come out. He took the cold, trembling
+      hands in his own, pressed them close, met the anxious eyes with his own,
+      full of moisture, and said, &lsquo;My poor little girl,&rsquo; in a tone that somehow
+      lightened Dolly&rsquo;s heart of its worst dread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Will you go back into court?&rsquo; asked the colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t wish it, Dolly?&rsquo; said her father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh no! please not.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then,&rsquo; said the colonel, &lsquo;take your father back to the room at the hotel,
+      and we will come to you. I suppose this will not last much longer.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Probably not half an hour. I don&rsquo;t want to see that fellow either
+      convicted or acquitted.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Dolores found herself steered out of the passages and from among the
+      people waiting or gazing, into the clearer space in the street, her father
+      holding her hand as if she had been a little child. Neither of them spoke
+      till they had reached the sitting-room, and there, the first thing he did
+      when the door was shut, was to sit down, take her between his knees, put
+      an arm round her, and kiss her, saying again, &lsquo;My poor child!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You never got my letter!&rsquo; she said, leaning against him, feeling the
+      peace and rest his embrace gave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; but I have heard all. I should have warned you, Dolly; but I never
+      imagined that he could get at you there; and I was unwilling to accuse one
+      for whom your mother had a certain affection.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That was why I helped him,&rsquo; whispered Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I knew it,&rsquo; he said kindly. &lsquo;But how did he find you out, and how had he
+      the impertinence to write to you at your Aunt Lily&rsquo;s&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wrote to him first,&rsquo; she said, hanging down her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;How was that? You surely had not been in the habit of doing so whilst I
+      was at home.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;No; but he came and spoke to me at Exeter, the day you went away. Uncle
+      William was not there, he had gone into the town. And he&mdash;Mr.
+      Flinders, said he was going down to see you, and was very much
+      disappointed to hear that you were gone.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Did he ask you to write to him?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think he did. Father, it seems too silly now, but I was very
+      angry because Aunt Lilias said she must see all my letters except yours
+      and Maude Sefton&rsquo;s, and I told Constance Hacket. She said she would send
+      anything for me, and I could not think of any one I wanted to write to, so
+      I wrote to&mdash;to him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah! I saw you did not get on with your aunt,&rsquo; was the answer, &lsquo;that was
+      partly what brought me home.&rsquo; And either not hearing or not heeding her
+      exclamation, &lsquo;Oh, but now I do,&rsquo; he went on to explain that on his arrival
+      at Fiji he had found that circumstances had altered there, and that the
+      person with whom he was to have been associated had died, so that the
+      whole scheme had been broken up. A still better appointment had, however,
+      been offered to him in New Zealand, on the resignation of the present
+      holder after a half-year&rsquo;s notice, and he had at once written to accept
+      it. A proposal had been made to him to spend the intermediate time in a
+      scientific cruise among the Polynesian Islands; but the letters he had
+      found awaiting him at Vanua Levu had convinced him that the arrangements
+      he had made in England had been a mistake, and he had therefore hurried
+      home via San Francisco, as fast as any letter could have gone, to wind up
+      his English affairs, and fetch his daughter to the permanent home in
+      Auckland, which her Aunt Phyllis would prepare for her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her countenance betrayed a sudden dismay, which made him recollect that
+      she was a strangely undemonstrative girl; but before she had recovered the
+      shock so as to utter more than a long &lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; they were interrupted by the
+      cup of tea that had been ordered for Dolores, and in a minute more, steps
+      were heard, and the two aunts were in the room. &lsquo;Seven years,&rsquo; were Jane&rsquo;s
+      first words, and &lsquo;My dear Maurice,&rsquo; Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s, &lsquo;Oh! I wish I could
+      have spared you this,&rsquo; and then among greetings came again, &lsquo;Seven years,&rsquo; 
+      from the brother and cousin who had seen the traveller before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I&rsquo;m glad you were not there, Maurice,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield. &lsquo;It was
+      dreadful.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I never saw a more insolent fellow!&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That Yokes, you mean,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun. &lsquo;I declare I think he is worse
+      than Flinders!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s like you women, Jenny,&rsquo; returned the colonel; &lsquo;you can&rsquo;t
+      understand that a man&rsquo;s business is to get off his client!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When he gave him up as an honest man altogether!&rsquo; cried Lady Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And cast such imputations!&rsquo; exclaimed Aunt Jane. &lsquo;I saw what the wretch
+      was driving at all the time of the cross-examination; and if I&rsquo;d been the
+      judge, would not I have stopped him?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There you go. Lily and Jenny!&rsquo; said the colonel, &lsquo;and Rotherwood just as
+      bad! Why, Maurice would have had to take just the same line if he had been
+      for the defence.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He would not have done it in such a blackguard fashion though,&rsquo; said Lord
+      Rotherwood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I saw what his defence would be,&rsquo; said Mr. Mohun, briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There!&rsquo; said Colonel Mohun, with a boyish pleasure in confuting his
+      sisters; but they were not subdued.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Now Maurice,&rsquo; cried Jane, &lsquo;when that man was known to be utterly
+      dishonourable and good for nothing, was it fair&mdash;was it not contrary
+      to all common sense&mdash;to try to cast the imputation between those two
+      poor girls? So the judge and jury felt it, I am happy to say! but I call
+      it abominable to have thrown out the mere suggestion&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nay now, Jane,&rsquo; said the colonel, &lsquo;if the man was to be defended at all,
+      how else was it to be done?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t have had him defended at all! but, unfortunately, that&rsquo;s his
+      right as an Englishman.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s another thing! But as the cheque did not alter itself, one of the
+      three must have done it, and nothing was left but to show that there had
+      been an amount of shuffling, and&mdash;in short, nonsense&mdash;that might
+      cast enough doubt on their evidence to make it insufficient for a
+      conviction.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Reginald! I can&rsquo;t think how you can stand up for such a wretch, a vulgar
+      wretch,&rsquo; cried Miss Mohun. &lsquo;You put it delicately, as a gentleman who had
+      the misfortune to be counsel in such a case might do, but he was
+      infinitely worse than that, though that was bad enough.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was Yokes,&rsquo; put in Mr. Mohun; &lsquo;but what did he say?&rsquo; looking anxiously
+      at his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It was not so bad about her,&rsquo; said her uncle, &lsquo;he only made her out a
+      foolish child, easily played upon by everybody, and possibly ignorant and
+      frightened, or led away by her regard for her supposed relation. It was
+      the other poor girl&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The amiable susceptibilities of romantic young ladies!&rsquo; broke out Lady
+      Merrifield. &lsquo;Oh, the creature!&rsquo; To think of that poor foolish Constance
+      sitting by to hear it represented that the expedition to Darminster, and
+      all the rest of it, was because she was actually touched by that fellow. I
+      really felt ready to take her part.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She had certainly brought it on herself,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane; &lsquo;but it was
+      atrocious of him and if the other counsel had only known it, he stopped
+      the cross examination just at the wrong time, or it would have come out
+      that it was literary vanity that was the lure. No doubt he would have made
+      a laughing-stock of that, but it would not have been as bad as the other.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poor thing,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield; &lsquo;it was a trying retribution for
+      schoolgirl folly and want of conscientiousness. I should think she was a
+      sadder and a wiser woman.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He must have overdone it,&rsquo; said Mr. Mohun, &lsquo;he is a vulgar fellow, and
+      always does so; but, as Reginald says, the only available defence was to
+      enhance the folly and sentiment of the girls; but of course the judge
+      charged the other way&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Entirely,&rsquo; said Lord Rotherwood, &lsquo;he brought Dolly rather well out of it,
+      saying that as he understood it, a young girl who had seen a needy
+      connection assisted from her home might think herself justified in
+      corresponding with him, and even in diverting to his use money left in her
+      charge, when it was probable that it would not be required for the
+      original object. He did not say it was right, but it was an error of
+      judgment by no means implying swindling&mdash;in fact. He disposed of Miss
+      Hacket in the same way&mdash;foolish, sentimental, unscrupulous, but not
+      to that degree. Girls might be silly enough in all conscience, but not so
+      as to commit forgery or perjury. That was the gist of it, and happily the
+      jury were of the same opinion.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Happily? Well, I suppose so,&rsquo; said Mr. Mohun, with a certain
+      sorrowfulness of tone, into which his little daughter entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I say, Rotherwood,&rsquo; exclaimed the colonel, as the town clock&rsquo;s two
+      strokes for the half-hour echoed loudly, &lsquo;if you mean to catch the 4.50,
+      you must fly.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Fly!&rsquo; he coolly repeated. &lsquo;Tell Mysie, Lily, that Fly has never ceased
+      talking of her. That child has been saving her money to fit out one of
+      Florence&rsquo;s orphan&rsquo;s. She&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Rotherwood,&rsquo; broke in Mr. Mohun, &lsquo;your wife charged me to see that you
+      were in time for that dinner. A ministerial one.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t encourage him, Lily,&rsquo; chimed in the colonel. &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll call a cab. See
+      him safe off, Maurice.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And off he was hunted amid the laughter of the ladies; the manner of all
+      to one another was so exactly what it had been in the old times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I could hardly help telling him to take care, or Victoria would never let
+      him out again,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun. &lsquo;Poor old fellow, it would have been a
+      fine chance for him with four of us together.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You can come back with us, Jenny!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I brought my bag in case of accidents.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;And we&rsquo;ll telegraph to Adeline to join us tomorrow,&rsquo; said Mr. Mohun, who
+      seemed to have been seized with a hunger for the sight of his kindred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Telegraph! My dear Maurice, Ada&rsquo;s nerves would be torn to smithereens by
+      a telegram without me to open it for her. I&rsquo;ve a card here to post to her;
+      but I expect that I must go down tomorrow and fetch her, which will be the
+      best way, for I have a meeting.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Jenny, I declare you are a caution even to Miss Hacket,&rsquo; said Colonel
+      Reginald, re-entering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, Ada always was the family pet. Besides, I told you I had a G.F.S.
+      meeting. Did you get a cab for us; Lily has had quite walking enough.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies went in a cab, while the gentlemen walked. There was not much
+      time to spare, and in the compartment into which the first comers threw
+      themselves, they found both the Hacket sisters installed, and the
+      gentlemen coming up in haste, nodded and got into a smoking-carriage, on
+      seeing how theirs was occupied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, we could have made room,&rsquo; said Constance, to whom a gentleman was a
+      gentleman under whatever circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Dear Miss Dolores&rsquo;s papa! Is it indeed?&rsquo; said Miss Hacket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So wonderfully interesting,&rsquo; chimed in Constance. And they both made a
+      dart at Dolores to kiss her in congratulation, much against her will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The train clattered on, and Lady Merrifield hoped it would hush all other
+      voices, but neither of the Hackets could refrain from discussing the
+      trial, and heaping such unmitigated censure on the counsel for the
+      prisoner, that Miss Mohun felt herself constrained to fly in the face of
+      all she had said at the hotel, and to maintain the right of even such an
+      Englishman to be defended, and of his advocate to prevent his conviction
+      if possible. On which the regular sentiment against becoming lawyers was
+      produced, and the subject might have been dropped if Constance had not
+      broken out again, as if she could not leave it. &lsquo;So atrocious, so
+      abominably insolent, asking if he was unmarried.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Evidently flattered!&rsquo; muttered Aunt Jane, between her teeth, and unheard;
+      but the speed slackened, and Constance&rsquo;s voice went on,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I really thought I should have died of it on the spot. The bare idea of
+      thinking I could endure such a being.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said Dolores, just as the clatter ceased at a little station. &lsquo;You
+      know you did walk up and down with him ever so long, and I am sure you
+      liked him very much.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An indignant &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t understand&rsquo; was absolutely cut off by an
+      imperative grasp and hush from Miss Hacket the elder; Aunt Jane was
+      suffocating with laughter, Lady Merrifield, between that and a certain
+      shame for womanhood, which made her begin to talk at random about anything
+      or everything else.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. &mdash; NAY.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;What a mull they have made of it!&rsquo; were Mr. Maurice Mohun&rsquo;s first words
+      when he found the compartment free for a tete-a-tete with his brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;All&rsquo;s well that ends well,&rsquo; was the brief reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, indeed! Mary would not have thought so.&rsquo; To which the colonel had
+      nothing to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It serves me out,&rsquo; his brother went on presently. &lsquo;I ought to have done
+      something for that wretched fellow before I went, or, at any rate, have
+      put Dolly on her guard; but I always shirked the very thought of him.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nothing would have kept him out of harm&rsquo;s way.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It might have kept the child; but she must have been thicker with him
+      than I ever knew. However I shall have her with me for the future, and in
+      better hands.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You really mean to take her out?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;That&rsquo;s what brought me home. She isn&rsquo;t happy; that is plain from her
+      letters; and Jane does not know what to make of her, nor Lilias either.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;When were your last letters dated?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The last week in September.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Early days,&rsquo; muttered the colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought it an experiment, you know; but you said so much about Lily&rsquo;s
+      girls being patterns, that I thought Jasper Merrifield might have made her
+      more rational and less flighty, and all that sort of thing; but of course
+      it was a very different tone from what the child was used to, and you
+      couldn&rsquo;t tell what the young barbarians were out of sight.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;So I began to think last winter; but I fancy you will find that she and
+      Lily understand one another a good deal better than they did at first.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I thought she did not receive my intelligence as a deliverance. I am glad
+      if she can carry away an affectionate remembrance, but I want to have her
+      under my own eye.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I suppose that&rsquo;s all right,&rsquo; was the half reluctant reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;There&rsquo;s Phyllis. She is full of good sense, with no nonsense about her or
+      May, and her girls are downright charming.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Very likely; but I say, Maurice, you must not underrate Lilias. She has
+      gone through a good deal with Dolores, and I believe she has been the
+      making of her. You&rsquo;ve had to leave the poor child a good deal to herself
+      and Fraulein, and, as you see by this affair, she had some ways that made
+      it hard for Lily to deal with her at first.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her father plainly did not like this. &lsquo;There was no harm in the poor
+      child, but as I should have foreseen, there&rsquo;s always an atmosphere of
+      sentiment and ritual and flummery about Lilias, totally different from
+      what she was used to.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Colonel Mohun had nearly said, &lsquo;So much the better,&rsquo; but turned it into,
+      &lsquo;I think you will change your opinion.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brothers and sisters, and cousins, whatever they may be to the external
+      world, always remain relatively to each other pretty much as they knew one
+      another when a single home held them all. The familiar Christian names
+      seemed to revive the old ways, and it was amusing to see the somewhat
+      grave and silent colonel treated by his elder brother as the dashing,
+      heedless boy, needing to be looked after, while his sister Jane remained
+      the ready helper and counsellor, and Lady Merrifield was still in his eyes
+      the unpractical, fanciful Lily with an unfortunately suggestive rhyme to
+      her name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps it maintained him in this opinion, that when he had answered all
+      questions about Captain and Mrs. Harry May, and had dilated on their
+      pretty house in the suburbs of Auckland, his sisters expected him to tell
+      of the work of the Church among the Maoris and Fijians. He laughed at them
+      for thinking colonists troubled their heads about natives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I know Phyllis does. One of Harry May&rsquo;s brothers went out as a
+      missionary.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Disenchanted and came home again when his wife came into a fortune.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Not a bit of it,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane. &lsquo;I know him and all about him. He
+      stayed till his health broke, and now he is one of the most useful men in
+      the country. He is coming to speak for the S.P.G. at Rockquay, Lily; and
+      you must come and meet him and his charming wife. They will tell you a
+      very different story about Harry&rsquo;s doings.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; allowed Mr. Mohun, &lsquo;there are apparitions of brown niggers done up
+      as smart as twopence prancing about the house. Perfectly uninteresting,
+      you know, the savage sophisticated out of his picturesqueness. I made a
+      point of asking no questions, not knowing what I might be let in for.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Then you heard nothing of Mr. Ward, the Melanesian missionary, whom
+      Phyllis keeps a room for when he comes to New Zealand to recruit.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The man who was convicted of murder on circumstantial evidence! Oh yes. I
+      heard of him. I believe the labour-traffic agents heartily wish him at
+      Portland still, he makes the natives so much too sharp.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Aye,&rsquo; said the colonel, &lsquo;as long as Britons aren&rsquo;t slaves they have no
+      objection to anything but the name for other people.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Wait till you get out there, Regie, and see what they all say about those
+      lazy fellows&mdash;except, of course, ladies and parsons, and a few whom
+      they&rsquo;ve bitten, like May.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;The few are on the Christian side, of course,&rsquo; said Lady Merrifield, with
+      irony in her tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed, she was not at all sure that half this colonial prejudice was not
+      assumed in order to tease her, just as in former times her brother would
+      make game of her enthusiasms about school children; for he was altogether
+      returned to his old self, his sister Jane, who had seen the most of him,
+      testifying that the original Maurice had revived, as never in the course
+      of his married life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores tried to forget or disbelieve the words she had heard about his
+      having come to fetch her away, and said no word about them until they had
+      been unmistakably repeated. Then she felt a sort of despair at the idea of
+      being separated from her aunt and Mysie, for indeed they had penetrated to
+      affections deeper than had ever been consciously stirred in her before.
+      Yet she was old enough to shrink from allowing to her father that she
+      preferred staying with them to going with him, and it was to her Aunt Jane
+      that she had recourse. That lady, after returning from her expedition to
+      bring her sister Adeline to Silverton, was surprised by a timid knock at
+      the door, and Dolores&rsquo;s entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, if you please, Aunt Jane, may I come in? I do so want to speak to you
+      alone. Don&rsquo;t you think it is a sad pity that I should go away from the
+      Cambridge examination? Could not you tell my father so?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You want to stay for the Cambridge examination,&rsquo; said Aunt Jane, a little
+      amused at the manner of touching on the subject, though sorry for the
+      girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I have been taking great pains under Miss Vincent, and it does seem a
+      pity to miss it.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think it will make much difference to you.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, but I do want to be thoroughly well educated. I meant to go through
+      them all, like Gillian and Mysie, and I am sure father must wish it too. I
+      know he meant it when he went out last year.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, he did,&rsquo; said Miss Mohun. &lsquo;It was very unlucky that he did not get
+      any of our later letters.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I have tried to tell him that it is all different now, but he does not
+      seem to care,&rsquo; said Dolores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;He has quite made up his mind,&rsquo; said her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Has he quite?&rsquo; said Dolores. &lsquo;I thought perhaps if you talked to him
+      about the examination and the confirmation too&mdash;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But, Dolly, you are not going to a heathen country. Your confirmation
+      will be as much attended to in New Zealand as here.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Oh, but I should be confirmed with Mysie, and Aunt Lily would read with
+      me, and help me!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Yes, I see.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Do please tell him. Aunt Jane. He heeds what you say more than any one.
+      Do tell him that the only hope of my being good is if I stay with Aunt
+      Lily just these few years!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Ah, Dolly, that is what you really mean and care about&mdash;not the
+      Cambridge business.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Of course it is. Please tell him, Aunt Jane&mdash;somehow I can&rsquo;t&mdash;that
+      I was bad and foolish when I wrote all the letters he had; but now I know
+      better, and&mdash;and&mdash;I don&rsquo;t want to vex him, but I shall be ever
+      so much better a daughter to him if he will leave me with Aunt Lily, to
+      learn some of her goodness&rsquo;&mdash;and there were tears in her eyes, for
+      these months had softened her greatly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;My poor Dolly!&rsquo; said Aunt Jane, much more tenderly than she generally
+      spoke. &lsquo;I am very sorry for you. I do think Aunt Lily has been the making
+      of you, and that it is very hard that you should have to be uprooted from
+      her, just as you had learnt to value her, I will tell your father so; but
+      honestly, I do not think it is likely to make him change his mind.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Mohun sought her brother out the next day, and told him that they had
+      all been waiting in patience when thinking that his daughter&rsquo;s residence
+      at Silverton was an unsuccessful experiment. The explosion she had
+      predicted had come, and Dolores had been a different creature ever since,
+      owing to Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s management of her in the crisis; and she added
+      that the girl was most unwilling to leave her aunt, and that she herself
+      thought it would be much better to leave her for a few years to the
+      advantages of her present training, where her affections had been gained.
+      Mr. Mohun could not see it in the same light. The intimacy with Constance
+      Hacket was in his eyes a folly, consequent on his sister&rsquo;s passion for
+      Sunday schools and charities; and Jane, being infected with the like
+      ardour, he disregarded her explanations. The underhand correspondence
+      could not have been carried on without great blindness and carelessness,
+      or, at least, injudiciousness, on Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s part, and there was no
+      denying that she had trusted to a sense of honour that was nonexistent.
+      Nor did he appreciate Jane&rsquo;s argument that the conquest of the heart and
+      will had thus been far more thoroughly gained than it would have been by
+      constant thwarting and watching. It was hard to forgive such an exposure
+      as had taken place, or to believe that it had not been brought about by
+      unjustifiable errors, more especially as Lady Merrifield was the first to
+      accuse herself of them. Moreover, he had become sensible of a strong
+      natural yearning for the presence of his only child, and he had been so
+      much struck with his sister Phyllis&rsquo;s family that he sincerely believed
+      himself consulting the girl&rsquo;s best interests. He was by no means an
+      irreligious or ungodly man, but he had always thought his sister Lilias
+      more or less of an enthusiast, and he did not wish to see Dolores the
+      same. Perhaps, indeed, the poor child&rsquo;s manifest clinging to her aunt and
+      cousins made him all the more resolute to remove her before her affection
+      should be entirely weaned from himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He made his headquarters at Silverton, and during the next two months
+      modified his opinions so far as to confess to his sister Jane that Lilias
+      was a much more sensible woman than he had believed her, and had her
+      children well in hand. He even allowed that Dolores was improved, and owed
+      much to her kindness; and when the first sting of the exposure was over,
+      he could see that the treatment had been far from injudicious as regarded
+      the girl&rsquo;s own character. He was even glad that warm love and friendship
+      had grown up towards her aunt and cousins; but all this left his purpose
+      unchanged; although, after the first, nothing was said about it, Dolores
+      tried to forget it, and hoped that the sight of her going on well and
+      peaceably would convince him of the inexpediency of disturbing her. She
+      could not even mention it to Mysie, lest the dread should become a reality
+      by being uttered. So no more passed on the subject till it became
+      necessary to take her outfit in hand, and he also wished to take her to
+      Beechcroft, that the old family home which he regarded with fresh
+      tenderness might be impressed on her memory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, though she never durst directly oppose the fate which he destined
+      for her, she surprised him by a violent burst of tears and sobbing, and an
+      entreaty that he would not take her away from Aunt Lily and Mysie a moment
+      sooner than could be helped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She clung to everything, even to the guinea-pigs, and she was the first in
+      the Easter holidays to beg for the &lsquo;Thorn Fortress.&rsquo; Indeed, Mysie was a
+      little shocked at her grief, as disloyal and unfilial. &lsquo;One ought not to
+      mind going anywhere with one&rsquo;s father,&rsquo; she said; &lsquo;we all thought it a
+      great honour for Phyllis and Alethea.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;They are grown up!&rsquo; said Dolores, &lsquo;and Aunt Lily does get into one so!
+      Oh, don&rsquo;t say there&rsquo;s Aunt Phyllis. I hate the very name of her.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;She must be nice,&rsquo; said Mysie, &lsquo;Whenever the &lsquo;grown-ups&rsquo; are pleased with
+      me they say I am getting like her, as if it was the best thing one could
+      be.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;But I don&rsquo;t want Mysie old and grown up, I want my Mysie now, as you are!&mdash;And
+      you&rsquo;ll forget and leave off writing, like Maude Sefton.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Never!&rsquo; cried Mysie. &lsquo;Eight across the world you will always be my own
+      twin cousin.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wishes of the girl were so far fulfilled that Lady Merrifield took her
+      to London to provide her outfit, and Mysie accompanied them. A room and
+      its dressing-room received the three at old Mrs. Merrifield&rsquo;s, and the two
+      cousins thought their close quarters ineffably precious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mysie was introduced to Maude Sefton, who seemed entirely unconscious of
+      her treachery to friendship. &lsquo;One had so little time, and couldn&rsquo;t always
+      be writing,&rsquo; she said, when Dolores reproached her; &lsquo;exercises were enough
+      to tire out one&rsquo;s hand!&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They also drank tea with Lady Phyllis Devereux and her governess. Fly
+      could not pour forth questions and reminiscences fast enough about all the
+      beloved animals at Silverton, not forgetting the little G.F.S. nursemaid,
+      for whom she had actually made an apron in her plain-work lessons.
+      Moreover, she deemed Dolores&rsquo;s fate most enviable, to be going off with
+      her father to strange countries, away from lessons, and masters, and
+      towns. It would be almost as good as Leila on the island.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the Beechcroft visit, Mr. and Mrs. Mohun collected all the brothers
+      and sisters in England there for a week, and still Mysie and Dolores were
+      allowed to be together, squeezed into a corner of Lady Merrifield&rsquo;s room.
+      It was high summer, bright and glowing, and so dry, and even the
+      invalidish sisters, Lady Henry Gray and Miss Adeline Mohun could not
+      object to the sitting out on the lawn, among the dragonflies, as in days
+      of yore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Much of old thought and feeling was then and there taken up again, and it
+      was on one of the last evenings of the visit that Mr. Mohun, walking up
+      and down the alley with Lady Merrifield, said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Well, Lily, I think my determination to take Dolly away was hasty. I
+      cannot leave her now, but if I had understood all that I see at present, I
+      should have been both content and grateful to have her among your
+      children. I am afraid I have been ungracious.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;I never thought so, Maurice. It is quite right that she should be with
+      you, and Phyllis will do every-thing for her much better than I.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Poor child! I believe she is very sorry to go,&rsquo; said Mr. Mohun; &lsquo;but, at
+      any rate, she will remember Silverton as, I hope, a lasting influence on
+      her life.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dolores truly believed that so it would be, and that her aunt&rsquo;s guidance
+      would be always looked back upon as the turning-point of her life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;It is my own fault,&rsquo; she said, as on the last night she clung tearfully
+      to Lady Merrifield; &lsquo;if I had behaved better I might have gone on just
+      like one of your own.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;You will still be in my heart like one of my own, dear child,&rsquo; said Lady
+      Merrifield. &lsquo;We know the way in which we all can hold together as one;
+      keep to that, and the distance apart will matter the less.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as they watched Dolores and her father driven away to the station the
+      next morning, Jane Mohun laid her hand on her sister&rsquo;s arm and said, &lsquo;You
+      thought you had made a great failure. Lily, but is not the other side of a
+      failure often a success?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By-and-by came letters from Dolores. She seemed after the first to have
+      enjoyed her journey, for, as she wrote to Lady Merrifield, in a letter,
+      very private, and all to her own self, &lsquo;Father was so very good and kind
+      to me, I don&rsquo;t know how to tell you. It was as if a little bit of mother
+      had got into him, and now I am here I think I shall like the Mays. Indeed,
+      I am trying to remember your advice, and not beginning by hating everybody
+      and thinking who they are not. Aunt Phyllis is very nice indeed, and
+      sometimes her eyes and mouth get like Mysie&rsquo;s, and her voice is just
+      exactly yours. Only she is plump and roundabout, not a dear, tall,
+      graceful figure like my White Lily Aunt. Please don&rsquo;t call it nonsense,
+      for indeed I mean it, and Aunt Phyllis does like your photograph so much.
+      I have the whole group hung up in my room, and you over it, and I wish you
+      all good morning every day, for I never, never, as long as I live, shall
+      love anybody like you and Mysie.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      THE END.
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 6em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
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+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
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+++ b/6007.txt
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+Project Gutenberg's The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Two Sides of the Shield
+
+Author: Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6007]
+Last Updated: August 17, 2012
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Hanh Vu
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+
+By Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+
+It is sometimes treated as an impertinence to revive the personages
+of one story in another, even though it is after the example of
+Shakespeare, who revived Falstaff, after his death, at the behest of
+Queen Elizabeth. This precedent is, however, a true impertinence in
+calling on the very great to justify the very small!
+
+Yet many a letter in youthful handwriting has begged for further
+information on the fate of the beings that had become favourites of the
+school-room; and this has induced me to believe that the following out
+of my own notions as to the careers of former heroes and heroines
+might not be unwelcome; while I have tried to make the story stand
+independently for new readers, unacquainted with the tale in which Lady
+Merrifield and her brothers and sisters first appeared.
+
+'Scenes and Characters' was, however, published so long ago, that the
+young readers of this generation certainly will only know it if it has
+had the good fortune to have been preserved by their mothers. It
+was only my second book, and in looking back at it so as to preserve
+consistency, I have been astonished at its crudeness.
+
+It will explain a few illusions to state that it is the story of the
+motherless family of Mohuns of Beechcroft, with a kindly deaf father at
+the head, Mr. Mohun, whose pet name was the Baron of Beechcroft, owing
+to a romantic notion of his daughters made fun of by his sons. The
+eldest sister, a stiff, sensible, dry woman, had just married and gone
+to India, leaving her post to the next in age, Emily, who was much too
+indolent for the charge. Lilies, the third in age, with her head full
+of the kind of high romance and sentiment more prevalent thirty or forty
+years ago than now, imagined that whereas the household had formerly
+been ruled by duty, it now might be so by love. Of course, confusion
+dire was the consequence, chiefly with the younger boys, the scientific,
+cross-grained Maurice, and the high-spirited, turbulent Reginald, all
+the mischief being fomented by Jane's pertness and curiosity, and only
+mitigated by the honest simplicity and dutifulness of eight years old
+Phyllis. The remedy was found at last in the marriage of the eldest
+son William with Alethea Weston, already Lilias's favourite friend and
+model.
+
+That in a youthful composition there should be a cavalier ancestry, a
+family much given to dying of consumption, and a young marquess cousin
+is, perhaps, inevitable. Lord Rotherwood was Mr. Mohun's ward, and
+having a dull home of his own, found his chief happiness as well as all
+the best influences of his life, in the merry, highly-principled, though
+easy-going life at his uncle's, whom he revered like a father, while
+his eager, somewhat shatter-brained nature often made him a butt to his
+cousins. All this may account for the tone of camaraderie with which the
+scattered members of the family meet again, especially around Lilias,
+who had, with her cleverness and enthusiasm, always been the leading
+member of the group.
+
+It should, perhaps, also be mentioned that Lord Rotherwood's greatest
+friend was also Lilias's favourite brother, Claude, who had become a
+clergyman and died early. Aunt Adeline had been the spoilt child and
+beauty of the family, the youngest of all.
+
+C. M. YONGE.
+
+March 8th, 1885.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I. WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? CHAPTER II. THE MERRIFIELDS CHAPTER
+III. GOOD BYE CHAPTER IV. TURNED IN AMONG THEM CHAPTER V. THE FIRST WALK
+CHAPTER VI. PERSECUTION CHAPTER VII. G.F.S. CHAPTER VIII. MY PERSECUTED
+UNCLE CHAPTER IX. LETTERS CHAPTER X. THE EVENING STAR CHAPTER XI. SECRET
+EXPEDITIONS CHAPTER XII. A HUNT CHAPTER XIII. AN EGYPTIAN SPHINX CHAPTER
+XIV. A CYPHER AND A TY CHAPTER XV. THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL CHAPTER XVI. THE
+INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE CHAPTER XVII. THE STONE MELTING CHAPTER XVIII.
+MYSIE AND DOLORES CHAPTER XIX. A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS CHAPTER
+XX. CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE CHAPTER XXI. IN COURT AND OUT CHAPTER
+XXII. NAY
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. -- WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?
+
+
+
+A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which showed a table of small
+dimensions, with a vase of somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses in the
+centre, and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentleman had helped
+himself and a young girl of about thirteen, without much apparent
+consciousness of what he was about, being absorbed in a pile of papers,
+pamphlets, and letters, while she on her side kept a book pinned open by
+a gravy spoon. The elderly maid-servant, who set the dishes before them,
+handed the vegetables and changed the plates, really came as near to
+feeding the pair as was possible with people above three years old.
+
+The one was a dark, thin man, with a good deal of white in his thick
+beard and scanty hair, the absence of which made the breadth of his
+forehead the more remarkable. The girl would have shown an equally
+remarkable brow, but that her dark hair was cut square over it, so as
+to take off from its height, and give a heavy over-hanging look to the
+upper part of the face, which below was tin and sallow, well-featured,
+but with a want of glow and colour. The thick masses of dark hair were
+plaited into a very long thick tail behind, hanging down over a black
+evening frock, whose white trimmings were, like everything else about
+the place, rather dingy. She was far less absorbed than her father, and
+raised a quick, wistful brown eye whenever he made the least sound, or
+shuffled his papers. Indeed, it seemed that she was reading in order to
+distract her anxiety rather than for the sake of occupation.
+
+It was not till after the last pieces of cheese had been offered and
+refused, and the maid had retired, leaving some dull crackers and
+veteran biscuits, with two decanters and a claret-jug, that he spoke.
+
+'Dolores!'
+
+'Yes, father.'
+
+But he only cleared his throat, and looked at his letter again, while
+she fixed her eager eyes upon him so earnestly that he let his fall
+again, and looked once more over his letters before he spoke again.
+
+'Dolores,' and the tone was dry, as if all feeling were driven from it.
+
+'Yes, father.'
+
+'You know that I have accepted this appointment?'
+
+'Yes, father.'
+
+'And that I shall be absent three years at the least?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Then comes the question, how you are to be disposed of in the
+meantime?'
+
+'Could not I go with you?' she said, under her breath.
+
+'No, my dear.' And somehow the tone had more tenderness in it, though it
+was so explicit. 'I shall have no fixed residence, no one with whom
+to leave you; and the climate is not fit for you. Your Aunt Lilias has
+kindly offered to take charge of you.'
+
+'Oh, father!'
+
+'Well?'
+
+'If you would only let me stay here with Caroline and Fraulein. I like
+it so much better.'
+
+'That cannot be, Dolly. I have this morning promised to let the house as
+it is to Mr. Smithson.'
+
+'And Caroline?'
+
+'If Caroline takes my advice, she will remain here as his housekeeper,
+and I think she will. Well, what is it? You do not mean that you would
+prefer going to your Aunts Jane and Ada?'
+
+'Oh no, no; only if I might go to school.'
+
+'This is nonsense, Dolores. It will be much better for you on all
+accounts to be with your aunt at Silverfold. I have no fear that she and
+her girls will not do their best to make you happy and good, and to give
+you what you have sadly wanted, my poor child. I have always wished you
+could have seen more of her.'
+
+There could be no doubt from the tone, in the mind of any one who knew
+Mr. Maurine Mohun, that the decision was final; but perhaps Dolores
+would have asked more if the door-bell had not rung at the moment and
+Mr. Smithson had not been announced. Fate was closing in on her. She
+retired into her book, and remained as long as she possibly could, for
+the sake of seeing her father and hearing his voice; but after a time
+she was desired to call Caroline, and to go to bed herself, for it was a
+good deal past nine o'clock.
+
+She had been aware, she could hardly tell how, that her father had been
+offered a government appointment connected with the Fiji Islands, and
+then that, glad to escape from the dreariness which had settled down on
+the house since his wife's death, about eighteen months previously, he
+had accepted it, and she had speculated much on her probable fate; but
+had never before been officially informed of his designs for himself or
+for her.
+
+He was a barrister, who spent all his leisure time on scientific
+studies, and his wife had been equally devoted to the same pursuits.
+Dolores had been her constant companion; but after the mother's death,
+from an accident on a glacier, a strange barrier of throwing himself
+into the ways of a girl past the charms of infancy. It was as if they
+had lost their interpreter.
+
+The German governess, chosen by Mrs. Mohun, was very German indeed,
+and greatly occupied in her own studies. When she found that the
+armes-liebes Madchen shrank from being wept over and caressed on the
+mournful return, she decided that the English had no feeling, and
+acquiesced in the routine of lessons and expeditions to classes. She was
+never unkind, but she did not try to be a companion; and old Caroline
+was excellent in the attention she paid to the comforts of her master
+and his daughter, but had no love of children, and would not have
+encouraged familiarities, even if Dolores had not been too entirely a
+drawing-room child to offer them.
+
+The morning came, and everything went on as usual; Dolores poured
+out the coffee, Mr. Mohun read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but
+afterwards he asked for a few minutes' conversation with Fraulein. All
+that Dolores heard of the result of it was 'So,' and then lessons went
+on until twelve o'clock, when it was the custom that the girl should
+have an hour's recreation, which was, in any tolerable weather, spent
+in the gardens of the far west Crescent, where she lived. There she was
+nearly certain of meeting her one great friend, Maude Sefton, who was
+always sent out for her airing at the same time.
+
+They spied each other issuing from their doors, met, linked their arms,
+and entered together. Maude was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow
+bush down her back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great deal
+bigger.
+
+'My dearest Doll!'
+
+'Oh yes, it is come.'
+
+'Then he is really going? I heard the pater and mater talking about it
+yesterday, and they said it would be an excellent thing for him.'
+
+'Oh, Maude! Then they did not say anything about what we hoped?'
+
+'What, the mater's offering for you to come and live with us, darling?
+Oh no; and I's afraid it is of no use to ask her, for she said of
+herself, that she knew Mr. Mohun had sisters, and--'
+
+'And what? Tell me, Maude. You must!'
+
+'Well, then, you know you made me, and I think it is a shame. She
+said she was glad she wasn't one of them, for you were such a peculiar
+child.'
+
+'Dear me, Maude, you needn't mind telling me that! I'm sure I don't want
+to be like everybody else.'
+
+'And are you going to one of your aunts?'
+
+'Yes, to Aunt Lilias. Oh, Maude, he would not hear a word against it,
+and I know it will be so horrid! Aunts are always nasty!'
+
+'Kate is very fond of her aunt,' said Maude, who did not happen to have
+any personal experiences to oppose to this sweeping assertion.
+
+'Oh, I don't mean proper aunts, but aunts that have orphans left to
+them.'
+
+'But you are not an orphan, darling.'
+
+'I dare say I shall be. 'Tis a horrible climate, and there are no end
+of cannibals there, so that he would not take me out for anything,--and
+sharks, and volcanoes, and hurricanes.'
+
+'I don't think they eat people there now.'
+
+'It's bad enough if they don't! And you know those aunts begin pretty
+well, while they are in fear of the father, but then they get worse.'
+
+'There was Ada Morton,' said Maude, in a tone of conviction, 'and Anna
+Ross.'
+
+'Oh yes, and another book, 'Rose Turquand.' It was a grown-up book, that
+I read once--long ago,' said Dolores, who had in her mother's time been
+allowed a pretty free range of 'book-box.'
+
+"And there's 'Under the Shield,' but that was a boy."
+
+'There are lots and lots,' said Dolores. 'They are ever so much worse
+than the stepmothers! Not that there is any fear of that!' she added
+quickly.
+
+'But isn't this Aunt Lilias nice? It's a pretty name. Which is she? You
+have one aunt a Lady Something, haven't you?'
+
+'Yes, it is this one, Lady Merrifield. Her husband is a general, Sir
+Jasper Merrifield, and he is gone out to command in some place in India;
+but she cannot stand the climate, and is living at home at a place
+called Silverfold, with a whole lot of children. I think two are gone
+out with their father, but there are a great many more.'
+
+'Don't you know them at all?'
+
+'No, and don't want to! I think my aunts were unkind to mother!'
+
+'Oh!' exclaimed Maude.
+
+'I am sure of it. They were horrid, stuck-up, fine ladies, and looked
+down on her, though she was ever so much nicer, and cleverer, and more
+intellectual than they; and she looked down on them.'
+
+'Are you sure?' asked Maude, to whom it was as good as a story.
+
+'Yes, indeed. She was civil, of course, because they were father's
+sisters, but I know she couldn't bear them. If any of them came to
+London, there was a calling, but all very stupid, and a dining at
+Lord Rotherwood's; but she never would, except once, when I can hardly
+remember, go to stay at their slow places in the country. I've heard
+father try to persuade her when they didn't think I understood. You know
+we always went abroad, or to the sea or something, except last year,
+when we were at Beechcroft. That wasn't so bad, for there were lots of
+books, and Uncle Reginald was there, and he is jolly.'
+
+'Can't you get Mr. Mohun to send you there?'
+
+'No, I don't think they would have me, for every body there is grown
+up, and father seems to have a wish for me to be with this Aunt Lilias,
+because she has a schoolroom.'
+
+'I wonder he should wish it, if she was unkind to Mrs. Mohun.'
+
+'Well, she was out of the way most of the time. They have lived at Malta
+and Gibraltar, and Belfast, and all sorts of places, so they will
+all have regular garrison frivolous manner, and think of nothing but
+officers and balls. I know she was a beauty, and wants to be one still.'
+
+'Maude, whose father was a professor, looked quite appalled and said--
+
+'You will be the one to infuse better things.' She felt quite proud of
+the word.
+
+'Perhaps,' returned Dolores; 'they always do that in time, but not till
+they've been awfully bullied. All the cousins are jealous, and the aunt
+spites them because they are nicer and prettier than her own.'
+
+'Yes,' said Maude, 'but then there's always some tremendously nice
+boy-cousin, or uncle, or something, that makes up for it all. Will Sir
+Jasper Merrifield's eldest son be a Sir?'
+
+'Oh no; he's not a baronet, but a G.C.B., Knight Grand Cross of the
+Bath, that is. Besides, I don't care for love, and titles, and all that
+nonsense, though father is first cousin to Lord Rotherwood.'
+
+'And you never saw any of them?'
+
+'Yes, Aunt Lilias was at the Charing Cross Hotel with Uncle Jasper and
+the two eldest daughters, Alethea and Phyllis, and some more of them,
+just before they sailed; and father took me there on Sunday to luncheon;
+but there were so many people, and such a talk, and such a bustle, that
+I hardly knew which was which. Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada were a talking
+that it made my head turn round; but I saw how affected Aunt Lilias is,
+and I knew that whenever they looked at me they said 'poor child,' and
+I always hate any one who does that! All I was afraid of then was that
+father would let Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada come and live with us; but this
+is ever so much worse.'
+
+'You have such a lot of aunts and uncles!' said Maude, 'and I have not
+got anything but one old uncle.'
+
+'Uncles are all very well,' said Dolores, said Maude. 'There are the two
+Miss Mohuns--'
+
+'Oh, that's beginning at the wrong end. Aunt Ada is the youngest of them
+all, and she thinks she is a young lady still, and wears little curls
+on her forehead, and a tennis pinafore, and makes her waist just like a
+wasp. She and Aunt Jane live together at Rockquay, because she has bad
+health--at least she has whenever she likes; and Aunt Jane does all
+sorts of charities and worries, and sets everybody to rights,'
+said Dolly, in a very grown-up voice, speaking partly from her own
+observation, and partly repeating what she had caught from her elders.
+
+'Oh yes, I know her,' said Maude. 'She asked me questions about all I
+did, and she did bother mamma so about a maid she recommended that we
+are never going to take another from her.'
+
+'Aunt Phyllis comes between them, I believe; but she has married a
+sailor captain and gone to settle in New Zealand, and I have not seen
+her since I was a very little girl. Then there's Aunt Emily, who is a
+very great swell indeed. Her husband was a canon, Lord Henry Grey;
+but he is dead, and she lives at Brighton, a regular fat, comfortable
+down-pillow of a woman, who isn't bad to lunch with, only she sends one
+out to the Parade with her maid, as if one was a baby. Mother used to
+laugh at her. And I think there was an older one who went to India and
+died long ago.'
+
+'I have seen your two uncles. There's Major Mohun. Oh! he is fun!'
+
+'Yes, dear old Uncle Regie! I wish he was not in Ireland. He will be so
+sorry to miss seeing father off, but he can't get leave. And there was a
+clergyman who is dead, and father grieved for very much. I think he did
+something to make them all nicer to mother, for it was just after that
+we went to stay at Beechcroft with Uncle William. You know him, and how
+mother used to call him the very model of a country squire; and I like
+his wife, Aunt Alethea. Only it is very pokey and slow down there, and
+they are always after flannel petticoats and soup kitchens, and all the
+old fads that are exploded. I should get awfully tired of it before a
+year was out, only I should not be teased with strange children, and
+there would be no one to be jealous of me.'
+
+'Can't you get your father to change and send you there?'
+
+'Not a chance. You see Aunt Lilias had offered, and they haven't, and I
+must go on with my education. I hope, though I shall have no advantages,
+I shall still be able to go up for the Cambridge examination, if Aunt
+Lilias has not prejudices, as I dare say she has, since of course none
+of her own will be able to try.'
+
+'You'll come up to us for the examination, Dolly dear, and we shall do
+it together, and that will be nice!'
+
+'If they will let me; but I don't expect to be allowed to do anything
+that I wish. Only perhaps father may be come home by that time.'
+
+'Is it three years?'
+
+'Yes. It is a terrible time, isn't it? However, when I'm seventeen
+perhaps he will talk to me, and I can really keep house.'
+
+'And then you'll come back here?'
+
+'Do you know, Maudie--listen--I've another uncle, belonging to mother.'
+
+'Oh, Dolly! I thought she had no one!'
+
+'He told me he was my Uncle Alfred once when he met me in the park with
+Fraulein, and gave me a note for mother. He is called Mr. Flinders.'
+
+'But I thought your mother was daughter to Professor Hay?'
+
+'But this is a half-brother; my grandmother was married before. Uncle
+Alfrey has an immense light beard, and I think he is very poor. He came
+once or twice to see mother, and they always sent me out of the room;
+but I am sure she gave him money--not father's housekeeping money, but
+what she got for herself by writing. Once I heard father go out of the
+house, saying, 'Well, it's your own to do as you please with.' And then
+mother went to her room, and I know she cried. It was the only time that
+ever mother cried!' And as Maude listened, much impressed--'Once when
+she had got eleven pounds, and we were going to have bought father such
+a binocular for a secret as a birthday present, Mr. Flinders came, and
+she gave him ten of it, and we could only buy just a few slides for
+father. And she told me she was grieved, but she could not help it, and
+it would be time for me to understand when I was older.'
+
+'I don't think this Uncle Alfrey can be nice,' said Maude.
+
+''Tis quite disgusting if he kisses me,' said Dolly; 'but you see he is
+poor, and all the Mohuns are stuck up, except father, and they wanted
+mother to despise him, and not help him. And you see, she stuck to him.
+I don't like him much; but you see nobody ever was like her! Oh, Maude,
+if she wasn't dead!'
+
+And poor Dolores cried as she had not done even at the time of the
+accident, or in the terrible week that followed, or at the desolate home
+coming.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. -- THE MERRIFIELDS.
+
+
+
+The cool twilight of a long sunny summer's day was freshening the
+pleasant garden of a country house, and three people were walking slowly
+along a garden path enjoying the contrast with the heat, glare, and
+noise of the day. The central one was a tall, slender lady, with a light
+shawl hung round her shoulders. On one side was a youth who had begun to
+overtop her, on the other a girl of shorter and sturdier mould, who only
+reached up to her shoulder.
+
+'So she is coming!' the girl said.
+
+'Yes, Uncle Maurice has answered my letter very kindly.'
+
+'I should think he would be very much obliged,' observed the boy.
+
+'Please, mamma, do tell us all about it,' said the girl. 'You know I
+stopped directly when you made me a sign not to go on asking questions
+before the little ones. And you said you should have to make us your
+friends while papa and the grown-ups are away.'
+
+'Well, Gillian, I know you can be discreet when you are warned, and
+perhaps it is best that you should know how things stand. Do you
+remember anything about it, Hal?'
+
+'Only a general perception that there were tempests in the higher
+regions, but I think that was more from hearing Alley and Phyl talk than
+from my native sagacity.'
+
+'So I should suppose, since you were only six years old, at the utmost.'
+
+'But Uncle Maurice always was under a cloud, wasn't he, especially at
+Beechcroft, where I never saw him or his wife in the holidays except
+once, when I believe she was not at all liked, and was thought to be
+very proud, and stuck-up, and pretentious.'
+
+'But was she just nobody? not a lady?' cried Gillian. 'Aunt Emily always
+called her, '"Poor thing."'
+
+'Perhaps she did the same by Aunt Emily,' returned Hal.
+
+'And I am sure I have heard Aunt Ada say that she wasn't a lady; and
+Aunt Jane that she had all sorts of discreditable connections.'
+
+'Come now, Gill, if you chatter so, how is mamma to get a word in
+between?'
+
+'I'm afraid we have all been hard on her, poor thing!'
+
+'There now, mamma has done it, just like Aunt Emily!'
+
+'Anybody would be poor who got killed in a glacier!'
+
+'No, but one doesn't say poor when people are--nice.'
+
+'When I said poor,' now put in Lady Merrifield, 'it was not so much that
+I was thinking of her death as of her having come into a family where
+nobody welcomed her, and I really do not suppose it was her fault.'
+
+'Moreover, she seemed to do very well without a welcome,' added Hal.
+
+'Who is interrupting now?' cried Gillian, 'but was she a lady?'
+
+'I never saw her, you know,' said the mother; 'but from all I ever heard
+of her, I should think she was, and cleverer and more highly educated
+than any of us.'
+
+'Yes,' said Hal, 'that was the kind of pretension that exasperated them
+all at Beechcroft, especially Uncle William.'
+
+'I wonder if Dolores will have it!' said Gillian. 'I suppose she will
+know much more than we do.'
+
+'Probably, being the only child of such parents, and with every
+advantage London can give. Maurice was always much the cleverest of us
+all, and with a very strong mechanical and scientific turn, so that I
+now think it might have been better to have let him follow his bent. But
+when we were young there was a good deal of mistrust of anything outside
+the beaten tracks of gentlemanlike professions, and my dear old father
+did not like what he heard of the course of study for those lines.
+Things were not as they are now. So Maurice went to Cambridge, and was
+fifth wrangler of his year, and then had to go to the bar. It somehow
+always gave him a thwarted, injured feeling of working against the
+grain, and he cultivated all these scientific pursuits to the utmost,
+getting more and more into opinions and society that distressed
+grandpapa and Uncle William. So he fell in with Mr. Hay, a professor
+at a German university. I can hear William's tone of utter contempt and
+disgust. I believe this poor man was exceedingly learned, and had made
+some remarkable discoveries, but he was very poor, and lived in lodgings
+at Bonn with his daughter in the small way people are content to do in
+Germany. As to his opinions, we all took it for granted that he was a
+freethinker; but I can't tell how that might be. Maurice lodged in the
+same house one year when he went to learn German and attend lectures,
+and he went back again every long vacation. At last came your dear
+grandfather's death. Maurice hurried away from Beechcroft immediately
+after the funeral, and the next thing that was heard of him was that
+he had married Miss Hay. It was no wonder that your Uncle William was
+bitterly hurt and offended at the apparent disrespect to our father, and
+would make no move towards Maurice.'
+
+'It was when we were at the Cape, wasn't it?' asked Hal.
+
+'Yes, the year Gillian was born. Well, your dear Uncle Claude went to
+see Maurice in London, and found there was much excuse. Maurice had
+learnt that the old professor was dying, and his daughter had nothing,
+and would have had to be a governess, so that Maurice had married her in
+haste in order to be able to help them.'
+
+'Then it really was very kind and noble in him!' exclaimed Gillian.
+
+'And I believe every one would have felt it so; but for his
+unfortunately reserved way of concealing the extent of the acquaintance,
+and showing that he would not be interfered with. Claude did his best to
+close the breach, but there had been something to forgive on both sides,
+and perhaps SHE was prouder than the Mohuns themselves. Oh! my dears,
+I hope you will never have a family quarrel among you! It is so sad to
+look back upon a change after the happy years when we were all together,
+and were laughing and making fun of one another!'
+
+'But you were quite out of it, mamma.'
+
+'So I was in a way, but I knew nothing of the justification till too
+late for any advances from us to take much effect. I am four years older
+than Maurice, we had never been a pair, and had never corresponded.
+And when I wrote to him and to his wife, I only received stiff, formal
+answers. They were abroad when we were in London on coming home, and
+they would not come to see us at Belfast, so that I could never make
+acquaintance with her; but I believe she was an excellent wife, suiting
+him admirably in every way, and I expect to find this little daughter of
+theirs very well brought up, and much forwarder than honest old Mysie.'
+
+'Mysie is in perfect raptures at the notion of having a cousin here
+exactly of her own age,' said Gillian. 'What she would wish is that the
+two should be so much alike as to be taken for twins. I have been trying
+to remember Dolores on that dreadful Sunday at the hotel, when Uncle
+Maurice came to see us, just when papa was setting off for Bombay, but
+it all seems confusion. I can think of nothing but a little black, shy
+figure. I remember Phyllis telling me that she thought I ought to do
+something to entertain her, but I could not think of a word to say to
+her.'
+
+'For which perhaps she was thankful,' said her brother.
+
+'I am not sure. You are all too apt, when you are shy, to console
+yourself with fancying that you are doing as you would be done by. It
+might have worried her then perhaps, but it would have made it easier
+for her to begin among us now! I am very glad her father consents to my
+having her! I do hope we may make her happy.'
+
+'Happy!' said Gillian. 'Anybody must be happy with such a number to play
+with, and with you to mother her, mamma.'
+
+'I am afraid she will not feel me much like her own mother, poor child!
+But it will not be for want of the will. When I look back now I feel
+sorry for myself for the early loss of my mother, for though we were all
+merry enough as children and young people, there always seems to have
+been a lack of something fostering and repressing. There was a kind of
+desolateness in our life, though we did not understand it at the time.
+I am thankful you have not known it, my dears.' There was a strange rush
+of tears nearly choking her voice, and she shook them away with a sort
+of laugh. 'That I should cry for that at this time of day!'
+
+Gillian raised her face for a kiss, and even Harry did the same. Their
+hearts were very full, as the perception swept over them in one flash
+what their lives would have been without mamma. It seemed like the solid
+earth giving way under their feet!
+
+'I am very sorry for poor Dolores,' said Gillian presently. 'It seems as
+if we could never be kind enough to her.'
+
+'Yes. Indeed I hope we may do something towards supplying her with a
+real home, wandering sprites as we have been,' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'What a name it is! Dolores! It is as bad as Peter Grievous! How did she
+get it?' grumbled Harry.
+
+'That I cannot tell, but I think we must call her Dora or Dolly, as I
+fancy your Aunt Jane told me she was called at home. I hope Wilfred
+will not get hold of it and tease her about it. You must defend her from
+that.'
+
+'If we can,' said Gillian; 'but Wilfred is rather an imp.'
+
+'Yes,' said Harry. 'I found Primrose reduced to the verge of distraction
+yesterday because 'Willie would call her Leg of Mutton.''
+
+'I hope you boxed his ears!' cried Gillian.
+
+'I did give it to him well,' said Hal, laughing.
+
+'Thank you,' said his mother. 'A big brother is more effective in such
+cases than any one else can be. Wilfred is the only one of you all who
+ever seemed to take pleasure in causing pain--and I hardly know how to
+meet the propensity.'
+
+'He is the only one who is not quite certain to be nice with Dolores,'
+said Gillian.
+
+'And I really don't quite see how to manage,' said the mother. 'If we
+show him our anxiety to shield her, it is very likely to direct his
+attention that way.'
+
+'She must take her chance,' said Hal, 'and if she is any way rational,
+she can soon put a stop to it.'
+
+'But, oh dear! I wish he could go to school,' said Gillian.
+
+'So do I, my dear,' returned her mother; 'but you know the doctors say
+we must not risk it for another year, and I can only hope that as he
+grows stronger, he may become more manly. Meantime we must be patient
+with him, and Hal can help more than any one else. There--what's that
+striking?'
+
+'Three quarters.'
+
+'Then we must make haste in, or we shall not have finished supper before
+ten.'
+
+Lilias Mohun had married a soldier, and after many wanderings through
+military stations, the health and education of a large proportion of
+her family had necessitated her remaining at home with them, while her
+husband held a command in India, taking out with him the two grown-up
+daughters and the second son, who was on his staff. She was established
+in a large house not far from a country town, for the convenience of
+daily governess, tutor, and masters. She herself had grown up on the
+old system which made education depend more on the family than on the
+governess, and she preferred honestly the company and training of her
+children to going into society in her husband's absence. Therefore
+she arranged her habits with a view to being constantly with them, and
+though exchanging calls, and occasionally accepting invitations in the
+neighbourhood, it was an understood thing that she went out very little.
+The chief exceptions were when her eldest son, Harry, was at home from
+Oxford. He was devotedly fond of her, and all the more pleased and proud
+to take her about with him because it had not always been possible that
+his holidays in his school life should be spent at home, and thus the
+privilege was doubly prized.
+
+The two sisters above and one brother below him were in India with their
+father, and Gillian was not yet out of the schoolroom, though this did
+not cut her off from being her mother's prime companion. Then followed a
+schoolboy at Wellington, named Jasper, two more girls, a brace of boys,
+and the five-year-old baby of the establishment--sufficient reasons
+to detain Lady Merrifield in England after more than twenty years of
+travels as a soldier's wife, so that scarcely three of her children had
+the same birthplace. She had been able to see very little of her English
+relations, being much tied by the number of her children while all were
+very young, and the expense of journeys; but she was now within easy
+reach of her two unmarried sisters, and after the Cape, Gibraltar,
+Malta, and Dublin, the homes of her eldest sister, and of her eldest
+brother did not seem very far off.
+
+Indeed Beechcroft, the home of her childhood, had always been the
+headquarters of herself and her children on their rare visits to
+England. Her elder boys had been sure of a welcome there in the
+holidays, and loved it scarcely less than she did herself; and when
+looking for her present abode, the whole family had stayed there for
+three months. Her brother Maurice, however, she had scarcely seen, and
+she had been much pained at being included in his persistent avoidance
+of the whole family, who felt that he resented their displeasure at his
+marriage even more since his wife's death than he had done during her
+lifetime, as if he felt doubly bound, for her sake, not to forgive and
+forget. At least so said some of the family, while others hoped that
+his distaste to all intercourse with them only arose from the apathy
+succeeding a great blow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. -- GOOD-BYE
+
+
+
+A passage was offered to Mr. Mohun in a Queen's ship, and this hurried
+the preparations so much that to Dolores it appeared that there was
+nothing but bustle and confusion, from the day of her conversation with
+Maude, until she found herself in the railway carriage returning from
+Plymouth with her eldest uncle. Her father had intended to take her
+himself to Silverfold; but detentions at the office in London, and then
+a telegram from Plymouth, had disconcerted his plans, and when he found
+that his eldest brother would come and meet him at the last, he was glad
+to yield to his little daughter's earnest desire to be with him as long
+as possible.
+
+Shy and reserved as both were, and almost incapable of finding
+expression for their feelings, they still clung closely together, though
+the only tears the girl was seen to shed came in church on the last
+Sunday evening, blinding and choking, and she could barely restrain her
+sobs. Her father would have taken her out, but she resisted, and leant
+against him, while he put his arm round her. After this, whenever it was
+possible, she crept up to him, and he held her close.
+
+There had been no further discussion on her home. Lady Merrifield had
+written kindly to her, as well as to her father, but that was small
+consolation to one so well instructed by story books in the hypocrisy of
+aunts until fathers were at a distance. And her father was so manifestly
+gratified by the letter, that it would be of no use to say a word to him
+now. Her fate was determined, and, as she heroically told Maude in their
+last interview, she was determined to make the best of it. She would
+endure the unjust aunt, and jealous, silly cousins, and be so clever,
+and wise, and superior, that she would force them to admire and respect
+her, and by-and-by follow her example, and be good and sensible, so that
+when father came home, he would find them acknowledging that they owed
+everything to her; she had saved two or three of their lives,
+nursed half of them when the other half were helpless, fainting, and
+hysterical, and, in short, been the Providence of the household. Then
+father would look at her, and say, 'My Mary again!' and he would take
+her home, and talk to her with the free confidence he had shown her
+mother, and would be comforted.
+
+This was the hope that had carried her through the last parting, when
+she went on board with her uncle and saw her father's cabin, and looked
+with a dull kind of entertainment at all the curious arrangements of the
+big ship. It seemed more like sight-seeing than good-bye, when at last
+they were sent on shore, and hurried up to the station just in time for
+the train.
+
+Uncle William was a very unapproachable person. He did not profess to
+understand little girls. He looked at Dolores rather anxiously, afraid,
+perhaps, that she was crying, and put her into the carriage, then rushed
+out and brought back a handful of newspapers, giving her the Graphic,
+and hiding himself in the Times.
+
+She felt too dull and stunned to read, or to look at the pictures,
+though she held the paper in her hands, and she gazed out dreamily at
+the Ton's and rocks and woody ravines of Dartmoor as they flew past her,
+the leaves and ferns all golden brown with autumn colouring. She had
+had little sleep that night; her little legs had all the morning been
+keeping up with the two men's hasty steps, and though an excellent meal
+had been set before her in the ship, she had not been able to swallow
+much, and she was a good deal worn out. So when at last they reached
+Exeter, and finding there would be two hours to wait, her uncle
+asked whether she would come down into the town with him and see the
+Cathedral, she much preferred to stay where she was. He put her under
+the care of the woman in the waiting-room, who gave her some tea, took
+off her hat, and made her lie down on a couch, where she slept quite
+sound for more than an hour, until she was roused by some ladies coming
+in with a crying baby.
+
+It was, she thought, nearly time to go on, for the gas was being
+lighted. She put on her hat, and went out to look for her uncle on
+the platform, so as to get into a better light to see the face of her
+mother's little Swiss watch, which her father had just made over to her.
+She had just made out that there was not more than a quarter of an hour
+to spare, when she heard an exclamation.
+
+'By Jove! if that ain't Mary's little girl!' and, looking up she saw Mr.
+Flinders' huge, bushy, light-coloured beard. 'Is your father here?' he
+asked.
+
+'No; he sailed this afternoon.'
+
+'Always my luck! Ticket wasted! Sailed--really?'
+
+'Oh yes. We did not come back till the ship was out of harbour.'
+
+He muttered some exclamation, and asked--
+
+'Whom are you with?'
+
+'Uncle William. Mr. Mohun--my eldest uncle. He will be back directly.'
+
+Mr. Flinders whistled a note of discontent.
+
+'Going to rusticate with him, poor little mite?' he asked.
+
+'No. I'm to live with my Aunt Lilias--Lady Merrifield.'
+
+'Where?'
+
+'At Silverfold Grange, near Silverfold.'
+
+'Well, you'll get among the swells. They'll make you cut all your
+poor mother's connections. So there's an end of it. She was a good
+creature--she was!'
+
+'I'll never forget any one that belongs to her,' said Dolores. 'Oh,
+there's Uncle William!' as on the top of the stairs she spied the
+welcome sight of his grey locks and burly figure. Before he had
+descended, her other uncle had vanished, and she fancied she had heard
+something about, 'Mum about our meeting. Ta ta!'
+
+Uncle William's eyes being less sharp than hers, he was on his way
+to the waiting-room before she joined him, and as he had not seen her
+encounter, she would not tell him. They were settled in the carriage
+again, and she was tolerably refreshed. Mr. Mohun fell asleep, and she,
+after reading by the lamp-light as long as she could find anything to
+read, gazed at the odd reflections in the windows till she, too, nodded
+and dozed, half waking at every station.
+
+At last, she was aware of a stop in earnest, voices, and being called.
+There was her uncle saying, 'Well, Hal, here we are!' and she was lifted
+out and set on the platform, with gas all round. Her uncle was saying,
+'We didn't get away in time for the express,' and a young man was
+answering, 'We'd better put Dolly into the waggonette at once. Then I'll
+see to the luggage.'
+
+Very like a parcel, so stiff were her legs, she was bundled into the
+dark cavern of a closed waggonette, and, after a little lumbering, her
+uncle and the young man got in after her, saying something about eleven
+o'clock.
+
+She was more awake now, and knew that they were driving through lighted
+streets, and then, after an interval, turned into darkness, upon gravel,
+and stopped at last before a door full of light, with figures standing
+up dark in it. She heard a 'Well, William!' 'Well Lily, here we are at
+last!' Then there were arms embracing her, and a kiss on each cheek, as
+a soft voice said, 'My poor little girl! They wanted to sit up for you,
+but it was too late, and I dare say you had rather be quiet.'
+
+She was led into a lamp-lit room, which dazzled her. It was spread with
+food, but she was too much tired to eat, and her aunt saw how it was,
+and telling Harry to take care of his uncle, she took the hand--though
+it did not close on hers--and, climbing up what seemed to Dolores an
+endless number of stairs, she said--
+
+'You are up high, my dear; but I thought you would like a room to
+yourself.'
+
+'Poked away in an attic,' was Dolores's dreamy thought; while her aunt
+added, to a tall, thin woman, who came out with a lamp in her hand--
+
+'She is so tired that she had better go to bed directly, Mrs. Halfpenny.
+You will make her comfortable, and don't let her be disturbed in the
+morning till she has had her sleep out.'
+
+Dolly found herself undressed, without many words, till it came
+to--'Your prayers, Miss Dora. I am sure you've need not to miss them.'
+
+She did not like to be told, besides, poor child, prayers were not much
+more than a form to her. She did not contest the point, but knelt down
+and muttered something, then laid her weary head on the pillow, was
+tucked up by Mrs. Halfpenny, and left in the dark. It was a dreary half
+sleep into which she fell. The noise of the train seemed to be still in
+her ears, and at the same time she was always being driven up--up--up
+endless stairs, by tall, cruel aunts; or they were shutting her up to do
+all their children's work, and keeping away father's letters from her.
+Then she awoke and told herself it was a dream, but she missed the
+noises of the street, and the patch of light on the wall from the gas
+lamps, and recollected that father was gone, and she was really in the
+power of one of these cruel aunts; and she felt like screaming, only
+then she might have been heard; and a great horrid clock went on making
+a noise like a church bell, and striking so many odd quarters that there
+was no guessing when morning was coming. And after all, why should she
+wish it to come? Oh, if she could but sleep the three years while father
+was away!
+
+At last, however, she fell into a really calm sleep, and when she awoke,
+the room was full of light, but her watch had stopped; she had been too
+much tired to remember to wind it; and she lay a little while hearing
+sounds that made it clear that the world was astir, and she could see
+that preparations had been made for her getting up.
+
+'They shan't begin by scolding me for being late,' she thought, and she
+began her toilette.
+
+Just as she came to her hair, the old nurse knocked and asked whether
+she wanted help.
+
+'Thank you, I've been used to dress myself,' said Dolores, rather
+proudly.
+
+'I'll help you now, missy, for prayers are over, and they are all gone
+to breakfast, only my lady said you were not to be disturbed, and Miss
+Mysie will be up presently again to bring you down.'
+
+She spoke low, and in an accent that Dolores afterwards learnt was
+Scotch; and she was a tall, thin, bony woman, with sandy hair, who
+looked as if she had never been young. She brushed and plaited the dark
+hair in a manner that seemed to the owner more wearisome and less tender
+than Caroline's fashion; and did not talk more than to inquire into the
+fashion of wearing it, and to say that Miss Mohun's boxes had been sent
+from London, demanding the keys that they might be unpacked.
+
+'I can do that myself,' said Dolores, who did not like any stranger to
+meddle with her things.
+
+'Ye could tak them oot, nae doubt, but I must sort them. It's my
+lady's orders,' said Mrs. Halfpenny, with all the determination of the
+sergeant, her husband, and Dolores, with a sense of despair, and a sort
+of expectation that she should be deprived of all her treasures on one
+plea or another, gave up the keys.
+
+Mrs. Halfpenny then observed that the frock which had been worn for the
+last two days on the railway, and evening and morning, needed a better
+brushing and setting to rights than she had had time to give it. She had
+better take out another. Which box were her frocks in?
+
+Dolores expected her heartless relations to insist on her leaving off
+her mourning, and she knew she ought to struggle and shed tears over it;
+but, to tell the truth, she was a good deal tired of her hot and fusty
+black; and when she had followed Mrs. Halfpenny into a passage where
+the boxes stood uncorded; and the first dress that came to light was
+a pretty fresh-looking holland that had been sent home just before the
+accident, she exclaimed--
+
+'Oh, let me put that on.'
+
+'Bless me, miss, it has blue braid, and you in mourning for your poor
+mamma!'
+
+Dolores stood abashed, but a grey alpaca, which she had always much
+disliked, came out next, and Mrs. Halfpenny decided that with her black
+ribbons that would do, though it turned out to be rather shockingly
+short, and to show a great display of black legs; but as the box
+containing the clothes in present wear had not come to hand, this must
+stand for the present--and besides, a voice was heard, saying, 'Is Dora
+ready?' and a young person darted up, put her arms round her neck, and
+kissed her before she knew what she was about. 'Mamma said I should come
+because I am just your age, thirteen and a half,' she said. 'I'm Mysie,
+though my proper name is Maria Millicent.'
+
+Dolores looked her over. She was a good deal taller than herself, and
+had rich-looking shining brown hair, dark brown eyes full of merriment,
+and a bright rosy colour, and she danced on her active feet as if
+she were full of perpetual life. 'All happy and not caring,' thought
+Dolores.
+
+'Now don't fash Miss Mohun with your tricks. She has stood like a lamb,'
+said Mrs. Halfpenny reprovingly. 'There, we'll not keep her to find an
+apron.'
+
+'I don't wear pinafores,' said Mysie, 'but I don't mind pretty aprons
+like this. 'Why, my sisters had them for tennis, before they went out to
+India. Come along, Dora,' grasping her hand.
+
+'My name isn't Dora,' said the new-comer, as they went down the passage.
+
+'No,' said Mysie, in a low voice; 'but mamma told Gill--that's Gillian,
+and me, that we had better not tell anybody, because if the boys heard
+they might tease you so about it; for Wilfred is a tease, and there's
+no stopping him when mamma isn't there. So she said she would call
+you Dora, or Dolly, whichever you liked, and you are not a bit like a
+Dolly.'
+
+'They always called me Dolly,' said Dolores; 'and if I am not to have my
+name, I like that best; but I had rather have my proper name.'
+
+'Oh, very well,' said Mysie; 'it is more out of the way, only it is very
+long.'
+
+By this time they had descended a long narrow flight of uncarpeted
+stairs, 'the back ones,' as Mysie explained, and had reached a slippery
+oak hall with high-backed chairs, and all the odds and ends of a
+family-garden hats, waterproofs, galoshes, bats, rackets, umbrellas,
+etc., ranged round, and a great white cockatoo upon a stand, who
+observed--'Mysie, Cockie wants his breakfast,' as they went by towards
+the door, whence proceeded a hubbub of voices and a clatter of knives
+and jingle of teaspoons and cups, a room that as Mysie threw open the
+door seemed a blaze of sunshine, pouring in at the large window, and
+reflected in the glass and silver. Yes, and in the bright eyes and
+glossy hair of the party who sat round the breakfast-table, further
+brightened by the fire, pleasant in the early autumn.
+
+Eyes, as it seemed to Dolores, eyes without number were levelled on her,
+as Mysie led her in, saying--
+
+'Here's a place by mamma; she kept it for you, between her and Uncle
+William.'
+
+'No, don't all jump up at once and rush at her,' said Lady Merrifield.
+'Give her a little time. Here, my dear;' and she held out her hand and
+drew in the stranger to her, kissing her kindly, and placing her in a
+chair close to herself, as she presided over the teacups--not at the
+end, but at the middle of the table--while all that could be desired to
+eat and drink found its way at once to Dolores, who had arrived at being
+hungry now, and was glad to have the employment for hands and eyes,
+instead of feeling herself gazed at. She was not so much occupied,
+however, as not to perceive that Uncle William's voice had a free, merry
+ring in it, such as she had never heard in his visits to her father, and
+that there was a great deal of fun and laughter going on over the thin
+sheets of an Indian letter, which Aunt Lily was reading aloud.
+
+No one seemed to be attending to anything else, when Dolores ventured to
+cast a glance around and endeavour to count heads as she sat between her
+uncle and aunt. Two boys and a girl were opposite. Harry, who had come
+to meet them last night, was at one end of the table, a tall girl,
+but still a schoolroom girl, was at the other, and Mysie had been lost
+sights of on her own side of the table; also there was a very tiny girl
+on a high chair on the other side of her mamma. 'Seven,' thought Dolores
+with sinking heart. 'Eight oppressors!'
+
+They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures. One boy, at the
+further corner, had a cast in his eye, and was thin and wizen-looking,
+and when he saw her eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got
+rid of like a flash of lightning before any one else could see it, but
+her heart sank all the more for it. He must be Wilfred, the teaser.
+
+Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in some kind of soft
+grey, with a little carnation colour at her throat, and a pretty lace
+cap on her still rich, abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search
+could only detect a very few white threads. Her complexion was always of
+a soft, paly, brunette tint, and though her cheeks showed signs that she
+was not young, her dark, soft, long-lashed eyes and sweet-looking
+lips made her face full of life and freshness; and the figure and long
+slender hands had the kind of grace that some people call willowy, but
+which is perhaps more like the general air of a young birch tree, or,
+as Hal had once said, 'Early pointed architecture reminded him of his
+mother.'
+
+The little one was getting restless, and two of the boys began filliping
+crumbs at one another.
+
+'Wilfred! Fergus!' said the mother quite low and gently; but they
+stopped directly. 'We will say grace,' she said, lifting the little one
+down. 'Now, Primrose.'
+
+Every one stood up, to Dolores' surprise, a pair of little fat hands
+were put together, a little clear voice said a few words of thanksgiving
+perfectly pronounced.
+
+'You may go, if you like,' she said. 'Hal, take care of Prim.'
+
+Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who took the hand of
+little Primrose, a beautiful little maiden with rich chestnut wavy
+curls. They all paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the girls
+a little curtsey. Primrose's was as pretty a little 'bob' as ever was
+seen.
+
+'I am glad you keep that custom up,' said Mr. Mohun.
+
+'Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it to be the habit among
+us; and I find it a great protection against bouncing and rudeness.'
+
+But Dolly's blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, military nonsense.
+She would never give in to it, if they made her live on bread and water!
+
+The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened out their breakfast from
+politeness to her, had finished when she had, and the pony-chaise came
+to the door, in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the station.
+Everybody flocked to the door to bid him good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias
+stooped down to ask Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite
+well, Mysie standing anxiously by as if she felt her a great charge.
+
+'Quite well, quite rested, thank you,' the girl answered in her stiff,
+shy way.
+
+'There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent comes. The children
+generally spend it in feeding the creatures. I am not going to give
+a holiday, because I think people get more pleasantly acquainted over
+something, than over nothing, to do, but you need not begin lessons
+to-day if you had rather settle your thoughts and write your letters.'
+
+'I had rather begin at once,' said Dolores, who thought she would now
+establish her pre-eminence at the cost of any amount of jealousy.
+
+'Very well, then, when you hear the gong--'
+
+'Mamma,' said Mysie solemnly, after long waiting, 'she says she had
+rather not be called out of her name.'
+
+'I thought you had been called Dolly, my dear.'
+
+'Yes, at home,' with a strong emphasis.
+
+'Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to keep to your proper name
+at once. We won't take liberties with it, till you feel as if you could
+call this home,' said Lady Merrifield, looking as if she would have
+kissed her niece on the slightest encouragement, but no one ever looked
+less kissable than Dolores Mohun at that moment. Was it not cruel and
+hypocritical to talk of this tiresome multitude as ever making home?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. -- TURNED IN AMONG THEM
+
+
+
+'Do you like pets?' asked Mysie eagerly, as her mother left the two
+girls together.
+
+'I never had any,' said Dolores.
+
+'Oh how dreadful! Why, old Cockie, and Aga and Begum, the two oldest
+pussies, have been everywhere with us. And, besides, there's Basto,
+the big Pyrenean dog, and,--oh, here comes little Quiz, mamma's little
+Maltese--Quiz, Quiz.'
+
+Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or cats; and the little
+spun-glass looking dog smelt about her.
+
+'I must go and feed my guinea-pig,' said Mysie; 'won't you come? Here
+are some over shoes and Poncho.'
+
+Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but it turned out to be
+a sort of cape, and she discovered that all the cloaks and most of the
+sticks had names of their own. She was afraid to be left standing on the
+steps alone lest any amount of animals or boys should fall on her there,
+so she consented to accompany Mysie, who shuffled along in a pair of
+overshoes vastly too big for her, since she had put her cousin into the
+well-fitting ones. She chattered all the way.
+
+'We do like this place so. It is the nicest we have ever been in. All
+that is wanting is that papa will buy it, and then we shall never go
+away again.'
+
+It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a homely-looking, roomy,
+red-brick house, covered with creepers--the Virginian one with its
+leaves just beginning to be painted. There was a bright sunny garden
+full of flowers in front, and then a paddock, with cows belonging to a
+farmer, Mysie said. It was her ambition to have them of their own 'when
+papa came home,' when all good things were to happen. Behind there were
+large stable-yards and offices, too large for Lady Merrifield's one
+horse and one pony, and thus available for the children's menagerie of
+rabbits, guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like. On the way Mysie was only
+too happy to explain the family as she called it, when she had recovered
+from her astonishment that Dolores, always living in England, could
+not 'count up her cousins.' 'Why they always had been shown their
+photographs on a Sunday evening after the Bible pictures, and even
+little Primrose knew all the likeness, even of those she had never
+seen.'
+
+The catalogue of names and ages followed.
+
+Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, and a sense that one
+Maude was worth all the eight put together with whom she was called
+on to be familiar. She found herself standing in a court, rather
+grass-grown, where Gillian, with little Primrose by her side, was
+flinging peas to a number of pigeons, grey, white, and brown, who
+fluttered round her. Valetta and Fergus were on the granary steps,
+throwing meal and sop mixed together to a host of cackling, struggling
+fowls, who tried to leap over each other's backs. Wilfred seemed busy at
+some hutches where some rabbits twitched their noses at cabbage leaves.
+Mysie proceeded to minister to some black and rust-coloured guinea-pigs,
+which Dolores thought very ugly, uninteresting, and odorous.
+
+Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, and cats and kittens
+parading before people's feet, so that Dolores felt as if she had
+been turned into a den of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again
+venturing into the court at 'feeding-time.' A big bell gathered all the
+children up together into a race to the house. There was another scurry
+to change shoes and wash hands, and then Mysie conducted her cousin
+into a large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the ground floor, with deep
+windows, and numerous little, solid-looking deal tables. There were Lady
+Merrifield and a young lady in spectacles, to whom Dolores was presented
+as 'your new pupil,' and every one sat down at one of the little tables,
+on which there were Bibles and Prayer-books.
+
+Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her. Dolores found
+a table ready for her with the books. A passage in the New Testament was
+given out and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, which was
+the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady Merrifield gave a short lesson
+on it, asking questions, and causing references to be found, according
+to a book of notes, she had ready at hand.
+
+'Just like a charity school,' thought Dolores, when she was able to
+glance at the time-table, and saw that two days in the week there was
+Old Testament, two days New, one day Catechism, one day Prayer-book.
+Only half an hour was thus appropriated, but to her mind it was an
+old-fashioned waste of time, and very tiresome.
+
+Then came a ring at the door-bell. 'Mr. Poulter,' she heard, and to her
+amazement, she found that Gillian and Mysie, as well as their brothers,
+had Latin lessons in the dining-room with the curate. The two girls and
+Fergus only went to him every other day, Wilfred every day, as Gillian
+was learning Greek and mathematics. What was Dolores to do?
+
+'Have you done any Latin, my dear?' asked her aunt.
+
+'Not yet. Father wished to be quite convinced that the professor was a
+good scholar,' said Dolores.
+
+'Very well. We will wait a little,' said Aunt Lilias, and Dolores
+indignantly thought that she was amused.
+
+Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-room, whither her mother
+followed with Primrose's little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano to
+Valetta, and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss Vincent
+examined the new-comer, which she did by giving her some questions to
+answer in writing, and some French and German to translate and parse
+also in writing.
+
+The music was inconvenient to a girl who had always prepared her work
+alone. She could do the language work easily, but the questions teased
+her. They seemed to her of no use, and quite out of her beat. No dates,
+none of the subject she had specially got up. Why, if Miss Vincent did
+not know that people were not to be expected to answer stupid questions
+about history quite out of their own line, that was her fault.
+
+She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top of her pen till
+her aunt came back, and there was a change in occupations all round,
+resulting in her having to read French aloud, which she knew she did
+well; but it was provoking to find that Gillian read quite as well, and
+knew a word at which she had made a shot, and a wrong one.
+
+She heard the observation pass between her aunt and the governess,
+'Languages fair, but she seems to have very little general information.'
+
+General information, indeed! Just as if she who had lived in London,
+gone to lectures, and travelled on the Continent, must not know more
+than these children cast up and down in a soldier's life; and as if
+her Fraulein, with all her diplomas, must not be far superior to a
+mere little daily governess, and a mother! It was all for the sake of
+depreciating her.
+
+At twelve o'clock, to her further indignation, she found there was to be
+an hour of reading aloud and of needlework-actual plain needlework. The
+three girls were making under-garments for themselves; and on Dolores
+proving to have no work of any sort, her aunt sent Gillian to the
+drawer, and produced a child's pinafore, which she was desired to hem.
+Each, however, had a quarter of an hour's reading aloud of history to do
+in turn, all from one big book, a history of Rome, and there was a map
+hung up over the black board, where they were in turn to point to the
+places mentioned. Before Gillian began reading, the date, and something
+about the former lesson was required to be told by the children, and
+it came quite readily, Valetta especially declaring that she did love
+Pyrrhus, which the others seemed to think very bad taste.
+
+Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and thought it foolish to
+study anything that did not tell in a Cambridge examination; but she
+supposed they knew no better down there; and when it came to her turn
+to read, she mangled the names so, that Val burst out laughing when she
+spoke of A-pious-Claudius. Lady Merrifield hushed this at once, and the
+girl read in a bewildered manner, and as one affronted. She saw he aunt
+looking at her piece of hemming, which, to say the truth, would not have
+done credit to Primrose, and the recollection came across her of all
+the oppressed orphans who had been made household drudges, so that her
+reading did not become more intelligible. As the clock struck one, a
+warning gong was heard; everybody jumped up, the work was folded away,
+and with the obeisance at the door, Gillian and Val ran away.
+
+Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to tidy the room; and
+Lady Merrifield said to Dolores--
+
+'I must teach you how to hold your needle tomorrow, my dear.'
+
+'I hate work,' responded Dolores.
+
+'Val does not like it,' said her aunt; 'nor indeed did I at your age;
+but one cannot be an independent woman without being able to take care
+of one's own clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn
+better than I did. Do you like a take a run with Mysie before dinner?
+Or there is the amusing shelf. Books may be taken out after one o'clock,
+and they must be put back at eight, or they are confiscated for the
+ensuing day,' she added, pointing to a paper below where this sentence
+was written.
+
+Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to make friends with
+the books than with the cousins. There were fewer than she expected, and
+nothing like so many absolute stories as she was used to reading with
+Maude Sefton.
+
+'Those are such grown-up books,' she said to Mysie, who came to assist
+her choice, and pointed to the upper shelves.
+
+'Oh, but grown-up books are nicest!' returned Mysie; 'at least, when
+they don't begin being stupid and marrying too soon. They must do it at
+last to get out of the story, and it's nicer than dying, but they can
+have lots of nice adventures first. But here are the 'Feats on the
+Fiords' and the 'Crofton Boys' and 'Water Babies,' and all the volumes
+of 'Aunt Judy,' if you like the younger sort. Or the dear, dear 'Thorn
+Fortress;' that's good for young and old.'
+
+'Haven't you any books of your own?'
+
+'Oh yes; this 'Thorn Fortress' is Val's, and 'A York and a Lancaster
+Rose' is mine, but whenever any one gives us a book, if it is not a
+weeny little gem like Gill's 'Christian Year,' or my 'Little Pillow,' or
+Val's 'Children in the Wood,' we bring it to mother, and if it is nice,
+we keep it here, for every one to read. If it is just rather silly, and
+stupid, we may read it once, and then she keeps it; and if it is very
+silly indeed, she puts it out of the way.'
+
+Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal.
+
+'Have you got many books?'
+
+'Yes; but I don't mean to have them knocked about by all the boys, nor
+put out of the way neither.'
+
+'Mamma said we were to be all like sisters,' said Mysie, with rather a
+craving for the new books; but Dolores tossed up her head and said--
+
+'We can't be. It's nonsense to say so.'
+
+To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady Merrifield, who was looking
+at some exercises that Miss Vincent had laid before her.
+
+'Mamma,' she said, 'is it fair that Dolores should read our books, if
+she won't give you up hers to look over, and be like ours?'
+
+'Mysie,' said Lady Merrifield, 'you can't expect Dolores to like all
+our home plans till she is used to them. No, my dear, you need not be
+afraid; you shall keep your books in your own room, and nobody shall
+meddle with them. I am sure your cousins would not wish to be so unkind
+as to deprive you of the use of theirs.'
+
+By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take 'Tom Brown,' it was
+time for the general flight to prepare for dinner, and she found her
+room made to look very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her books and
+little knickknacks had been put out, not quite as she preferred, but
+still so as to make the place seem like her own. She was pleased enough
+to be quite gracious to Mysie and Val who came to visit her, and to
+offer to let them read any of her books; when they both thanked her and
+said--
+
+'If mamma lets us.'
+
+'Oh, then you won't have them,' said Dolores; 'I'm not going to let her
+have my books to take away.'
+
+'You don't think she would take them away, when she said she wouldn't?'
+said Mysie, hotly.
+
+'Why, what would she do if she didn't happen to approve of them?'
+
+'Only tell us not to read them.'
+
+'And wouldn't you?'
+
+'Why, Dolores!' in such a tone as made her ashamed of her question; and
+she said, 'Well, father never makes any fuss about what I read. He has
+other things to think of.'
+
+'How do you get books, then?'
+
+'I buy them. And Maude Sefton, she's my great friend, has lots given to
+her, but nobody bothers about reading them. They aren't grown-up books,
+you know.'
+
+'How stupid,' said Val. 'You had better read the 'Talisman,' and then
+you'll see how nice a grown-up book is.'
+
+'The 'Talisman!' Why, Maude Sefton's brother had to get it up for his
+holiday task, and he said it was all rot and bosh.'
+
+'What a horridly stupid boy he must be,' returned Mysie. 'Why, I
+remember when Jasper once had the 'Talisman' to do, and the big ones
+were so delighted. Mamma read it out, and I was just old enough to
+listen. I remembered all about Sir Kenneth and Roswal.'
+
+'Tom Sefton's not stupid!' said Dolores, in wrath; 'but--but the book is
+stupid and out of date! I heard father and the professor say it was gone
+by.'
+
+Mysie and Valetta looked perfectly astounded, and Dolores pursued her
+advantage.
+
+'Of course it is all very well for you that have never lived in London,
+nor had any advantages.'
+
+'But we have advantages!' cried Val.
+
+'You don't know what advantages are,' said Dolores.
+
+'There's the gong,' cried Mysie, and down they all plunged into the
+dining-room, where the family were again collected, with Hal at one end
+and his mother at the other.
+
+Dolores was amazed when, at the first pause, after every one was help,
+Valetta's voice arose.
+
+'Mamma, what are advantages?'
+
+'Don't you know, Val?'
+
+'Dolores says we haven't any. And I said we have. And she says I don't
+know what advantages are.'
+
+Hal and Gillian were both laughing with all their might. Their mother
+kept her countenance, and said--
+
+'I suppose every one has advantages of some sort, and perhaps without
+knowing them.'
+
+'I'm sure I know,' cried Fergus.
+
+'Well, what are they?' asked Harry.
+
+'Having mamma!' cried the little boy.
+
+'Hear, hear! That's right, Fergy man! Couldn't be better!' cried Harry,
+and there was a general acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie with
+the fear that her motherless cousin might feel the contrast, and, though
+against rules, she whispered--
+
+'She will make you like one of us.'
+
+'That wasn't what I meant,' returned Dolores, a little contemptuously.
+
+'What did you mean?' said Mysie.
+
+'Why, you've no classes, nor lectures, nor master, and only just a mere
+daily governess.'
+
+Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her neighbour, but Mysie
+demanded--
+
+'What, do you want to be doing lessons all day long?'
+
+'No, but good governesses never are daily!'
+
+'That's a pity,' said Gillian, turning round on her. 'Perhaps you
+don't know that Miss Vincent has a First Class Cambridge Certificate in
+everything, and is daily, because she likes to live with her mother.'
+
+'I think,' added Lady Merrifield, with a smile, 'that Dolores has been
+in the way of seeing more clever people, and getting superior teaching
+of some kind, but we will do the best we can for her, and try not to let
+her miss many advantages.'
+
+Dolores felt a little abashed, and decidedly angry at being put in the
+wrong.
+
+The elders kindly turned away the general attention from her. There was
+a great deal of merry family fun going on, which was quite like a new
+language to her. Fergus and Primrose wanted to go out in search of
+blackberries. Gillian undertook to drive them in the cart, but as the
+donkey had once or twice refused to cross a little stream of water that
+traversed the road, the brothers foretold that she would ignominiously
+come back again.
+
+'Gill and water are perilous!' observed Hal.
+
+'Jack's not here,' said Gillian; 'besides, it is down, not up the hill,
+and I'm sure I don't want to draw a pail of water.'
+
+'No--Sancho will do that.'
+
+'The gong will sound and sound, buzz and roar,' said Wilfred. 'No Gill!
+no little ones! We shall send out and find them stuck fast in the lane,
+Sancho with his feet spread out wide, Gill with three or four sticks
+lying broken on the road round her, the kids reduced to eating
+blackberries like the children in the wood.'
+
+'Don't Fred,' said Gillian. 'You'll frighten them.'
+
+'Little donkeys!' said Wilfred.
+
+'If they were, we shouldn't want Sancho,' said Val.
+
+It was not a very sublime bit of wit, but there was a great laugh at
+it all round the table. Val and Fergus declared they would go too, till
+they heard that Nurse Halfpenny said she would not let the little ones
+go out without her to tear their clothes to pieces.
+
+Every one unanimously declared that would be no fun at all, and turned
+to mamma to beg her to forbid nurse to come out and spoil everything.
+
+'That's just her view,' said mamma, laughing; 'she thinks you spoil
+everything.'
+
+'Oh, that's clothes! Spoiling fun is worse.'
+
+'But were you really going with the old Halfpenny, Gill?' said Mysie,
+turning to her.
+
+'Yes,' said Gillian. 'You know I can manage her pretty well when it is
+only the little ones and they wouldn't have any pleasure otherwise.'
+
+'Oh come, Gill,' intreated Fergus, 'or nurse will make us sit in the
+donkey-cart all the time while Lois picks the blackberries!'
+
+'Mamma, do tell her not to come,' intreated Valetta, and more of them
+joined in with her.
+
+'No, my dears, I don't like to vex her when she thinks she is doing her
+duty.'
+
+'She wouldn't come if you did, mamma,' and there was a general outcry
+of intreaty that mamma would come with them, and defend them from Mrs.
+Halfpenny, as Fergus, who was rather a formal little fellow, expressed
+it, and mamma, after a little consideration, consented to drive the
+pony-carriage in that direction, and to announce to Nurse Halfpenny that
+she herself would take charge of the children. Whereupon there was a
+whoop and a war-dance of jubilee, quite overwhelming to Dolores, who
+could not but privately ask Mysie if Nurse Halfpenny was so very cross.
+
+'Awfully,' said Mysie, and Wilfred added--
+
+'As savage as a bear with a sore head.'
+
+'Like Mrs. Crabtree?' asked Dolores.
+
+'Exactly. Jasper called her so when he wanted to lash her up, till at
+lash she got hold of his 'Holiday House' and threw it into the sea, and
+it was in Malta and we couldn't get another,' said Mysie.
+
+'And haven't you one?'
+
+'Yes, Gill and I save for it; but mamma only let us have it on condition
+we made a solemn promise never to tease nurse about it.'
+
+'And does she go at you with that dreadful thing--what's it name--the
+tawse?'
+
+'Ah! you'll soon know,' said Wilfred.
+
+'No, no; nonsense, Fred,' said Mysie, as Dolores' face worked with
+consternation. 'She never hits us, not if we are ever so tiresome. Papa
+and mamma would not let her.'
+
+'But why do they let her be so dreadful? Maude's nurse used to be horrid
+and slap her, and when her mother found it out the woman was sent away
+directly.'
+
+Nurse Halfpenny isn't that sort,' said Mysie. 'Her husband was papa's
+colour-sergeant, and he got a sun-stroke and died, and then she came
+when Gillian was just born, and so weak and tiny that she would never
+have lived if nurse hadn't watched her day and night, and so Gillian's
+her favourite, except the youngest, and she is ever so good, you know.
+I've heard the ladies, when we were with the dear old 111th, telling
+mamma how they envied her her trustworthy treasure.'
+
+'I'm sure they might have had her at half-price,' said Wilfred. 'She's
+be dear at a farthing!'
+
+At that moment Mrs. Halfpenny's voice was heard demanding if it were
+really her ladyship's pleasure to go out, fatiguing herself to the very
+death with all the children rampaging about her and tearing themselves
+to pieces, if not poisoning themselves with all sorts of nasty berries.
+
+'Indeed I'll take care of them and bring them back safe to you,'
+responded her ladyship, very much in the tone of one of her own children
+making promises. 'Put them on their brown hollands and they can't come
+to much harm.'
+
+'Well, if it's your wish, ma'am, my leddy; what must be, must, but I
+know how it will be--you'll come back tired out, fit to drop, and Miss
+Val and Miss Primrose won't have a rag fit to be seen on them. But if
+it's your will, what must be must, for you're no better than a bairn
+yourself, general's lady though you be, and G.C.B.'
+
+'No, nurse, you'll be G.C.B.--Grand Commander of the Bath--when we come
+home,' called out Hall, who was leaning on the banister at the bottom,
+and there was a general laugh, during which Dolly tardily climbed the
+stairs, so tardily that her aunt, meeting her, asked whether she was
+still tired, and if she would rather have the afternoon to arrange her
+room.
+
+She said 'yes,' but not 'thank you,' and went on, relieved that Mysie
+did not offer to stay and help her, and yet rather offended at being
+left alone, while all the others went their own way. She heard them
+pattering and clattering, shouting and calling up and down the passages,
+and then came a great silence, while they could be seen going down the
+drive, some on foot, some in the pony-chaise or donkey-cart.
+
+Her things had all been unpacked and put in order, and her room had
+a very cheerful window. It was prettily furnished with fresh pink and
+white dimity, and choice-looking earthenware, but to London eyes like
+those of Dolores it seemed very old-fashioned and what she called 'poked
+up.' The paper was ugly, the chimney-piece was a narrow, painting thing,
+of the same dull, stone-colour as the door and the window-frame. And
+then the clear air, the perfect stillness, the absence of anything
+moving in the view from the window gave the citybred child a sense of
+dreadful loneliness and dreariness as she sat on the side of her bed,
+with one foot under her, gazing dolefully round her, and in he head
+composing her own memoirs.
+
+'Fully occupied with their own plans and amusements, the lonely orphan
+was left in solitude. Her aunt knew not how her heart ached after the
+home she had left, but the machine of the family went its own way and
+trod her under its wheels.'
+
+This was such a fine sentence that it was almost a comfort, and she
+thought of writing it to Maude Sefton, but as she got up to fetch her
+writing-case from the schoolroom, she saw that her books were standing
+just in the way she did not like, and with all the volumes mixed up
+together. So she tumbled them all out of the shelves on the floor, and
+at that moment Mrs. Halfpenny looked into the room.
+
+'Well, to be sure!' she exclaimed, 'when me and Lois have been working
+at them books all the morning.'
+
+'They were all nohow--as I don't like them,' said Dolores.
+
+'Oh, very well, please yourself then, miss, if that's all the thanks you
+have in your pocket, you may put them up your own way, for all I care.
+Only my lady will have the young ladies' rooms kept neat and orderly, or
+they lose marks for it.'
+
+'I don't want any help,' said Dolores, crossly, and Mrs. Halfpenny shut
+the door with a bang. 'The menials are insulting me,' said Dolores to
+herself, and a tear came to her eye, while all the time there was a
+certain mournful satisfaction in being so entirely the heroine of a
+book.
+
+She went to work upon her books, at first hotly and sharply, and very
+carefully putting the tallest in the centre so as to form a gradual
+ascent with the tops and not for the world letting a second volume stand
+before its elder brother, but she soon got tired, took to peeping at
+one or two parting gifts which she had not yet been able to read, and at
+last got quite absorbed in the sorrows of a certain Clare, whose golden
+hair was cut short by her wicked aunt, because it outshone her cousin's
+sandy locks. There was reason to think that a tress of this same golden
+hair would lead to her recognition by some grandfather of unknown
+magnificence, as exactly like that of his long-lost Claribel, and this
+might result in her assuming splendours that would annihilate the aunt.
+Things seemed tending to a fracture of the ice under the cruellest
+cousin of all, and her rescue by Clare, when they would be carried
+senseless into the great house, and the recognition of Clare and the
+discomfiture of her foes would take place. How could Dolores shut the
+book at such a critical moment!
+
+So there she was sitting in the midst of her scattered books, when the
+galloping and scampering began again, and Mysie knocked at the door
+to tell her there were pears, apples, biscuits, and milk in the
+dining-room, and that after consuming them, lessons had to be learnt for
+the next day, and then would follow amusements, evening toilette, seven
+o'clock tea, and either games or reading aloud till bedtime. As to the
+books, Mysie stood aghast.
+
+'I thought nurse and Lois had done them all for you.'
+
+'They did them all wrong, so I took them down.'
+
+Oh, dear! We must put them in, or there'll be a report.'
+
+'A report!'
+
+'Yes, Nurse Halfpenny reports us whenever she doesn't find our rooms
+tidy, and then we get a bad mark. Perhaps mamma wouldn't give you one
+this first day, but it is best to make sure. Shall I help you, or you
+won't have time to eat any pears?'
+
+Dolores was thankful for help, and the books were scrambled in anyhow
+on the shelves; for Mysie's good nature was endangering her share of the
+afternoon's gouter, though perhaps it consoled her that her curiosity
+was gratified by a hasty glance at the backs of her cousin's
+story-books.
+
+By the time the two girls got down to the dining-table, every one had
+left the room, and there only remained one doubtful pear, and three
+baked apples, besides the loaf and the jug of milk. Mysie explained that
+not being a regular meal, no one was obliged to come punctually to it,
+or to come at all, but these who came tardily might fare the worse. As
+to the blackberries, for which Dolores inquired, the girls were going
+to make jam of them themselves the next day; but Mysie added, with
+an effort, she would fetch some, as her cousin had had none in the
+gathering.
+
+'Oh no, thank you; I hate blackberries,' said Dolores, helping herself
+to an apple.
+
+'Do you?' said Mysie, blankly. 'We don't. They are such fun. You can't
+think how delicious the great overhanging clusters are in the lane. Some
+was up so high that Hal had to stand up in the cart to reach them, and
+to take Fergus up on his shoulder. We never had such a blackberrying as
+with mamma and Hal to help us. And only think, a great carriage came by,
+with some very grand people in it; we think it was the Dean; and they
+looked down the lane and stared, so surprised to see what great mind to
+call out, 'Fee, faw, fum.' You know nothing makes such a good giant
+as Fergus standing on Hal's shoulders, and a curtain over them to hide
+Hal's face. Oh dear, I wish I hadn't told you! You would have been a new
+person to show it to.'
+
+Dolores made very little answer, finished her apple, and followed to
+the schoolroom, where an irregular verb, some geography, and some dates
+awaited her.
+
+Then followed another rush of the populace for the evening meal of the
+live stock, but in this Dolores was too wary to share. She made her way
+up to her retreat again, and tried to lose the sense of her trouble
+and loneliness in a book. Then came the warning bell, and a prodigious
+scuffling, racing and chasing, accompanied by yells as of terror and
+roars as of victory, all cut short by the growls of Mrs. Halfpenny.
+Everything then subsided. The world was dressing; Dolores dressed too,
+feeling hurt and forlorn at no one's coming to help her, and yet worried
+when Mysie arrived with orders from Mrs. Halfpenny to come to her to
+have her sash tied.
+
+'I think a servant ought to come to me. Caroline always does,' said the
+only daughter with dignity.
+
+'She can't, for she is putting Primrose to bed. Oh, it's so delicious to
+see Prim in her bath,' said Mysie, with a little skip. 'Make haste, or
+we shall miss her, the darling.'
+
+Dolores did not feel pressed to behold the spectacle, and not being
+in the habit of dressing without assistance, she was tardy, and Mysie
+fidgeted about and nearly distracted her. Thus, when she reached the
+nursery, Primrose was already in her little white bed-gown, and was
+being incited by Valetta to caper about on her cot, like a little
+acrobat, as her sisters said, while Mrs. Halfpenny declared that 'they
+were making the child that rampageous, she should not get her to sleep
+till midnight.'
+
+They would have been turned out much sooner, and Primrose hushed into
+silence, if nurse's soul had not been horrified by the state of Dolores'
+hair and the general set of her garments.
+
+'My certie!' she exclaimed--a dreadful exclamation in the eyes of the
+family, who knew it implied that in all her experience Mrs. Halfpenny
+had never known the like! And taking Dolores by the hand, she led the
+wrathful and indignant girl back into her bedroom, untied and tied,
+unbuttoned and buttoned, brushed and combed in spite of the second bell
+ringing, the general scamper, and the sudden apparition of Mysie and
+Val, whom she bade run away and tell her leddyship that 'Miss Mohoone
+should come as soon as she was sorted, but she ought to come up early
+to have her hair looked to, for 'twas shame to see how thae fine London
+servants sorted a motherless bairn.'
+
+Dolores felt herself insulted; she turned red all over, with feelings
+the old Scotchwoman could not understand. She expected to hear the
+message roared out to the whole assembly round the tea-table, but Mysie
+had discretion enough to withhold her sister from making it public.
+
+The tea itself, though partaken of by Lady Merrifield, seemed an
+indignity to the young lady accustomed to late dinners. After it, the
+whole family played at 'dumb crambo.' Dolores was invited to join,
+and instructed to 'do the thing you think it is;' but she was entirely
+unused to social games, and thought it only ridiculous and stupid when
+the word being a rhyme to ite, Fergus gave rather too real a blow to
+Wilfred, and Gillian answered, ''Tis not smite;' Wilfred held out a
+hand, and was told, ''Tis not right;' Val flourished in the air as if
+holding a string, and was informed that 'kite' was wrong; when Hal
+ran away as if pursued by Fergus by way of flight; and Mysie performed
+antics which she was finally obliged to explain were those of a sprite.
+Dolores could not recollect anything, and only felt annoyed at being
+made to feel stupid by such nonsense, when Mysie tried to make her a
+present of a suggestion by pointing to the back of a letter. Neither
+write nor white would come into her head, though little Fergus
+signalized himself, just before he was swept off to bed, by seizing a
+pen and making strokes!
+
+After his departure, Lady Merrifield read aloud 'The Old oak Staircase,'
+which had been kept to begin when Dolores came, Hal taking the book in
+turn with his mother. And so ended Dolores' first day of banishment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. -- THE FIRST WALK
+
+
+
+'What a lot of letters for you, mamma!' cried Mysie.
+
+'Papa!' exclaimed Fergus and Primrose.
+
+'No, it is not the right day, my dears. But here is a letter from Aunt
+Ada.'
+
+'Oh!' in a different tone.
+
+'She writes for Aunt Jane. They will come down here next Monday because
+Aunt Jane is wanted to address the girls at the G.F.S. festival on
+Tuesday.'
+
+'Aunt Jane seems to have taken to public speaking,' said Harry. 'It
+would be rather a lark to hear her.'
+
+'You may have a chance,' said Lady Merrifield, 'for here is a note from
+Mrs. Blackburn to ask if I will be so very kind as to let them have the
+festival here. They had reckoned upon Tillington Park, where they have
+always had it before, but they hear that all the little Tillingtons have
+the measles, and they don't think it safe to venture there.'
+
+'It will be great fun!' said Gillian. 'We will have all sorts of games,
+only I'm afraid they will be much stupider than the Irish girls.'
+
+'And ever so much stupider than the dear 111th children,' sighed Mysie.
+
+'Aren't they all great big girls?' asked Valetta, disconsolately.
+
+'I believe twelve years old is the limit,' said her mother.
+'Twelve-year-old girls have plenty of play in them, Vals, haven't they,
+Mysie? Let me see--two hundred and thirty of them.'
+
+'For you to feast?' asked Harry.
+
+'Oh, no--that cost comes out of their own funds, Mrs. Blackburn takes
+care to tell me, and Miss Hacket will find some one in Siverfold who
+will provide tables and forms and crockery. I must go down and talk to
+Miss Hacket as soon as lessons are over. Or perhaps it would save time
+and trouble if I wrote and asked her to come up to luncheon and see the
+capabilities of the place. Why, what's the matter?' pausing at the blank
+looks.
+
+'The jam, mamma--the blackberry jam!' cried Valetta.
+
+'Well?'
+
+'We can't do it without Gill, and she will have to be after that Miss
+Constance,' explained Val.
+
+'Oh! never mind. She won't stay all the afternoon,' said Gillian,
+cheerfully. 'Luncheon people don't.'
+
+'Yes, but then there will be lessons to be learnt.'
+
+'Look here, Val,' said Gillian, 'if you and Mysie will learn your
+lessons for tomorrow while I'm bound to Miss Con., I'll do mine some
+time in the evening, and be free for the jam when she is gone.'
+
+'The dear delicious jam!' cried Val, springing about upon her chair; and
+Lady Merrifield further said--
+
+'I wonder whether Mysie and Dolores would like to take the note down.
+They could bring back a message by word of mouth.'
+
+'Oh, thank you, mamma!' cried Mysie.
+
+'Then I will write the note as soon as we have done breakfast. Don't
+dawdle, Fergus boy.'
+
+'Mayn't I go?' demanded Wilfred.
+
+'No, my dear. It is your morning with Mr. Poulter. And you must take
+care not to come back later than eleven, Mysie dear; I cannot have him
+kept waiting. Dolores, do you like to go?'
+
+'Yes, please,' said Dolores, partly because it was at any rate gain
+to escape from that charity-school lesson in the morning, and partly
+because Valetta was looking at her in the ardent hope that she would
+refuse the privilege of the walk, and it therefore became valuable;
+but there was so little alacrity in her voice that her aunt asked her
+whether she were quite rested and really liked the walk, which would be
+only half a mile to the outskirts of the town.
+
+Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, and replied that she
+was quite well, and didn't mind.
+
+So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were sent off to get ready,
+while Aunt Lilias wrote her note in pencil at the corner of the table,
+which she never left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their
+meal; but she had to silence a storm at the 'didn't mind'--Gillian even
+venturing to ask how she could send one to whom it was evidently no
+pleasure to go. 'I think she likes it more than she shows,' said the
+mother, 'and she wants air, and will settle to her lessons the better
+for it. What's that, Val?'
+
+'It was my turn, mamma,' said Valetta, in an injured voice.
+
+'It will be your turn next, Val,' said her mother, cheerfully. 'Dolores
+comes between you and Mysie, so she must take her place accordingly. And
+today we grant her the privilege of the new-comer.'
+
+Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, while she was going
+upstairs to put on her hat, the recollection had not occurred to her of
+one of the victim's of an aunt's cruelty who was always made to run on
+errands while her favoured cousins were at their studies. Was this the
+beginning? Somehow, though her better sense knew this was a foolish
+fancy, she had a secret pleasure in pitying herself, and posing to
+herself as a persecuted heroine. And then she was greatly fretted
+to find the housemaid in her room, looking as if no one else had any
+business there. What was worse, she could not find her jacket. She
+pulled out all her drawers with fierce, noisy jerks, and then turned
+round on the maid, sharply demanding--
+
+'Who has taken my jacket?'
+
+'I'm sure I don't know, Miss Dollars. You'd best ask Mrs. Halfpenny.'
+
+'If--' but at that moment Mysie ran in, holding the jacket in her hand.
+'I saw it in the nursery,' she said, triumphantly. 'Nurse had taken it
+to mend! Come along. Where's your hat?'
+
+But there was pursuit; Mrs. Halfpenny was at the door. 'Young ladies,
+you are not going out of the policy in that fashion.'
+
+'Mamma sent us. Mamma wants us to take a note in a hurry. Only to Miss
+Hacket,' pleaded Mysie, as Mrs. Halfpenny laid violent hands on her
+brown Holland jacket, observing--
+
+'My leddy never bade ye run off mair like a wild worricow than a general
+officer's daughter, Miss Mysie. What's that? Only Miss Hacket, do you
+say? You should respect yourself and them you come of mair than to show
+yourself to a blind beetle in an unbecoming way. 'Tis well that there's
+one in the house that knows what is befitting. Miss Dollars, you stand
+still; I must sort your necktie before you go. 'Tis all of a wisp. Miss
+Mysie, you tell your mamma that I should be fain to know her pleasure
+about Miss Dollars' frocks. She've scarce got one--coloured or
+mourning--that don't want altering.'
+
+Mrs. Halfpenny always caused Dolores such extreme astonishment and awe
+that she obeyed her instantly, but to be turned about and tidied by an
+authoritative hand was extremely disagreeable to the independent young
+lady. Caroline had never treated her thus, being more willing to permit
+untidiness than to endure her temper. She only durst, after the pair
+were released, remonstrate with Mysie on being termed Miss Dollars.
+
+'They can't make out your name,' said Mysie. 'I tried to teach Lois, but
+nurse said she had no notion of new-fangled nonsense names.'
+
+'I'm sure Valetta and Primrose are worse.'
+
+'Ah! but Val was born at Malta, and mamma had always loved the Grand
+Master La Valetta so much, and had written verses about him when she was
+only sixteen. And Primrose was named after the first primrose mamma had
+seen for twelve years--the first one Val and I had ever seen.'
+
+'They called me Miss Mohun at home.'
+
+'Yes, but we can't here, because of Aunt Jane.'
+
+All this was chattered forth on the stairs before the two girls reached
+the dining-room, where Mysie committed the feeding of her pets to Val,
+and received the note, with fresh injunctions to come home by eleven,
+and bring word whether Miss Hacket and Miss Constance would both come to
+luncheon.
+
+'Oh dear!' sighed Gillian, and there was a general groan round the
+table.
+
+'It can't be helped, my dear.'
+
+'Oh no, I know it can't,' said Gillian, resignedly.
+
+'You see,' said Mysie. 'Yes, come along, Basto dear. You see Gill has to
+be--down, Basto, I say!--a young lady when.... Never mind him, Dolores,
+he won't hurt. When Miss Constance Hacket and--leave her alone, Basto, I
+say!--and she is such a goose. Not you, Dolores, but Miss Constance.'
+
+'Oh that dog! I wish you would not take him.'
+
+'Not take dear old Basto! Why 'tis such a treat for him to get a walk in
+the morning--the delight of his jolly old black heart. Isn't he a dear
+old fellow? and he never hurt anybody in his life! It's only setting
+off! He will quiet down in a minute; but I couldn't disappoint him.
+Could I, my old man?'
+
+Never having lived with animals nor entered into their feelings, Dolores
+could not understand how a dog's pleasure could be preferred to her
+comfort, and felt a good deal hurt, though Basto's antics subsided as
+soon as they were past the inner gate shutting in the garden from the
+paddock, which was let out to a farmer. Mysie, however, ran on as usual
+with her stream of information--
+
+'The Miss Hacket were sister or daughters or something to some old man
+who used to be clergyman here, and they are all married up but these
+two, and they've got the dearest little house you ever saw. They had
+a nephew in the 111th, and so they came and called on us at once. Miss
+Hacket is a regular old dear, but we none of us can bear Miss Constance,
+except that mamma says we ought to be sorry for her because she leads
+such a confined life. Miss Hacket and Aunt Jane always do go on so about
+the G.F.S. They both are branch secretaries, you know.'
+
+'I know! Aunt Jane did bother Mrs. Sefton so that she says she will
+never have another of those G.F.S. girls. She says it is a society for
+interference.'
+
+'Mamma likes it,' said Mysie.
+
+'Oh! but she is only just come.'
+
+'Yes; but she always looked after the school children at Beechcroft
+before she married, and she and Alethea and Phyllis had the soldiers'
+children up on Sunday. Alethea taught the little drummer boys, and they
+were so funny. I wonder who teaches them now! Gill always goes down
+to help Miss Hacket with her G.F.S. classes. She has one on Sunday
+afternoon, and one on Tuesday for sewing, and she is the only young lady
+in the place who can do plain needlework properly.'
+
+'Sewing-machines can work. What the use of fussing about it!'
+
+'They can't mend,' said Mysie. 'Besides, do you know, in the American
+war, all the sewing-machines in the Southern States got out of order,
+and as all the machinery people were in the north, the poor ladies
+didn't know what to do, and couldn't work without them.'
+
+'Sewing-machines are a recent invention,' said Dolores.
+
+'Oh! you didn't think I meant the great old War of Independence. No, I
+meant the war about the slaves--secession they called it.'
+
+'That is not in the history of England,' said Dolores, as if Mysie had
+no business to look beyond.
+
+'Why! of course not, when it happened in America. Papa told us about
+it. He read it in some paper, I think. Don't you like learning things in
+that way?'
+
+'No. I don't approve of irregular unsystematic knowledge.'
+
+Dolores has heard her mother say something of this kind, and it came
+into her head most opportunely as a defence of her father--for she would
+not for the world have confessed that he did not talk to her as Sir
+Jasper Merrifield seemed to have done to his children. In fact she
+rather despised the General for so doing.
+
+'Oh! but it is such fun picking up things out of lesson time!' said
+Mysie.
+
+'That is the Edge--,' Dolores was not sure of the word Edgeworthian,
+so she went on to 'system. Professor Sefton says he does not approve of
+harassing children with cramming them with irregular information at all
+sorts of times. Let play be play and lessons be lessons, he says, not
+mixed up together, and so Rex and Maude never learnt anything--not a
+letter--till they were seven years old.'
+
+'How stupid!' cried Mysie.
+
+'Maude's not stupid!' cried Dolores, 'nor the professor either! She's my
+great friend.'
+
+'I didn't say she was stupid,' said Mysie, apologetically, 'only that
+it must be very stupid not to be able to read till one was seven. Could
+you?'
+
+'Oh, yes. I can't remember when I couldn't read. But Maude used to play
+with a little girl who could read and talk French at five years old, and
+she died of water upon her brain.'
+
+'Dear me! Primrose can read quite well,' said Mysie, somewhat alarmed;
+'but then,' she went on in a reassured voice, 'so could all of us except
+Jasper and Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibraltar that
+they were quite stupid while they were there.'
+
+This discussion brought the two girls across the paddock out into a road
+with a broad, neat footpath, where numerous little children were being
+exercised with nurses and perambulators. At first it was bordered by
+fields on either side, but villas soon began to spring up, and presently
+the girls reached what looked like a long, low 'cottage residence,' but
+was really two, with a verandah along the front, and a garden divided
+in the middle by a paling covered with canary nasturtium shrubs. The
+verandah on one side was hung with a rich purple pall of the dark
+clematis, on the other by a Gloire de Dijon rose. There were bright
+flower beds, and the dormer windows over the verandah looked like
+smiling eyes under their deep brows of creeper-trimmed verge-board. What
+London-bred Dolores saw was a sight that shocked her--a lady standing
+unbonnetted just beyond the verandah, talking to a girl whose black hat
+and jacket looked what Mysie called 'very G.F.S.-y.'
+
+The lady did not turn out to be young or beautiful. She was near middle
+age, and looked as if she were far too busy to be ever plump; she had a
+very considerable amount of nose and rather thin, dark hair, done in a
+fashion which, like that of her navy blue linen dress, looked perfectly
+antiquated to Dolores. As she saw the two girls at the gate she came
+down the path eagerly to welcome them.
+
+'Ah! my dear Mysie! so kind of your dear mother! I thought I should
+hear from her.' And as she kissed Mysie, she added, 'And this is the new
+cousin. My dear, I am glad to see you here.'
+
+Dolores thought her own dignified manner had kept off a kiss, not
+knowing that Miss Hacket was far too ladylike to be over-familiar, and
+that there was no need to put on such a forbidding look.
+
+Mysie gave her message and note, but Miss Hacket could not give the
+verbal answer at once till she had consulted her sister. She was not
+sure whether Constance had not made an engagement to play lawn-tennis,
+so they must come in.
+
+There sounded 'coo-roo-oo coo-roo-oo' in the verandah, and Mysie cried--
+
+'Oh, the dear doves!'
+
+Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them when the G.F.S. girl
+arrived, and as Mysie came to a halt in delight at the aspect of a young
+one that had just crept out into public life, the sister was called to
+the window. She was a great deal younger and more of the present day
+in style than her sister, and had pensive-looking grey eyes, with
+a somewhat bored languid manner as she shook hands with the early
+visitors.
+
+The sisters had a little consultation over the note, during which
+Dolores studied them, and Mysie studied the doves, longing to see the
+curious process of feeding the young ones.
+
+When Miss Hacket turned back to her with the acceptance of the
+invitation, she thought she might wait just to help Miss Hacket to put
+in the corn and the sop. Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores.
+
+'Did you arrive yesterday?'
+
+'No, the day before.'
+
+'Ah! it must be a great change to you.'
+
+'Indeed it is.'
+
+'This must be the dullest place in England, I think,' said Miss
+Constance. 'No variety, no advantages of any kind! And have not you
+lived in London?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'That is my ambition! I once spent six weeks in London, and it was an
+absolute revelation--the opening of another world. And I understand that
+Mr. Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that you saw a great deal of
+his friends.'
+
+'I used,' said Dolores, thinking of those days of her mother when she
+was the pet and plaything of the guests, incited to say clever and pert
+things, which then were passed round and embellished till she neither
+knew them nor comprehended them.
+
+'That is what I pine for!' exclaimed Miss Constance. 'Nobody here has
+any ideas. You can't conceive how borne and prejudiced every one her who
+is used to something better! Don't you love art needlework?'
+
+'Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey Gander on a toilet-cover.'
+
+'Oh! how sweet! We never get any new patterns here! Do come in and see,
+I don't know which to take; I brought three beginnings home to choose
+from, and I am quite undecided.'
+
+'Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns,' said Dolores. 'Something she gets
+ideas from Lorenzo Dellman--he's an artist, you know, and a regular
+aesthete! He made her do a dado all sunflowers last year, but they are a
+little gone out now, and are very staring besides, and I think she will
+have some nymphs dancing among almond-trees in blue vases instead, as
+soon as she has designed it.'
+
+'Isn't that lovely! Oh! what would I not give for such opportunities? Do
+let me have your opinion.'
+
+So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three patterns, one of
+tall daisies; another of odd-looking doves, one on each side of a red
+Etruscan vase, where the water must have been as much out of their reach
+as that in the pitcher was beyond the crow's; and a third, of Little
+Bo Peep. Having given her opinion in favour of Bo Peep, she was taken
+upstairs to inspect the young lady's store of crewels, and choose the
+colours.
+
+Dolores neither knew nor cared anything about fancy work, but to be
+treated as an authority was quite soothing, and she fully believed
+that the mere glimpses she had had of Mrs. Sefton's work and the shop
+windows, enabled her to give great enlightenment to this poor country
+mouse; so she gladly went to the bedroom, with a muslin-worked
+toilet-cover, embroidered curtains, plates fastened against the wall,
+and table all over knick-knacks, which Miss Constance called her little
+den, where she could study beauty after her own bent, while her sister
+Mary was wholly engrossed with the useful, and could endure nothing but
+the prose of the last century.
+
+Meantime Mysie had forgotten how time flew in her belief that in one
+minute more the young doves would want to be fed, and then in amusement
+at seeing them pursue their parents with low squeaks and flutterings,
+watching, too, the airs and graces, bowing, cooing, and laughing of the
+old ones. When at last she was startled by hearing eleven struck, there
+had to be a great hunt for Dolores in the drawing-room and garden,
+and when at last Miss Hacket's calls for her sister brought the
+tow downstairs more than ten minutes had passed! Mysie was too much
+dismayed, and in too great a hurry to do anything but cry, 'Come along,
+Dolores,' and set off at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner,
+even when Mysie recollected that it was too public a place for running,
+and slackened her pace. Dolores was soon gasping, and with a stitch in
+her side. Mysie would have exclaimed, 'What were you doing with Miss
+Constance?' but breathlessness happily prevented it. The way across the
+paddock seemed endless, and Mysie was chafed at having to hold back for
+her companion, who panted in distress, leant against a tree, declared
+she could not go on, she did not care, and then when, Mysie set off
+running, was seized with fright at being left alone in this vast unknown
+space, cried after her and made a rush, soon ending in sobbing breath.
+
+At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just coming out of the
+dining-room greeted them with, 'A quarter to twelve. Won't you catch it?
+Oh my!'
+
+'Are they come?' said Lady Merrifield, looking out of the schoolroom.
+'My dear children! Did Miss Hacket keep you?'
+
+'No, mamma,' gasped Mysie. 'At least it was my fault for watching the
+doves.'
+
+'Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message next time. Mr. Poulter has
+been waiting these twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit to
+take a lesson now. Dolores looks quite done up! I shall send you both
+to lie down on your beds and learn your poetry for an hour. And you must
+write an apology to Mr. Poulter this afternoon. No, don't go in now. Go
+up at once, Gillian shall bring your books. Does Miss Hacket come?'
+
+'Yes, mamma,' said Mysie humbly, looking at Dolores all the time.
+She was too generous to say that part of the delay had been caused by
+looking for her cousin, and having to adapt her pace to the slower one,
+but she decidedly expected the avowal from Dolores, and thought it mean
+not to make it. 'And, oh, the jam!' she mourned as she went upstairs.
+While, on the other hand, Dolores considered what she called 'being sent
+to bed' an unmerited and unjust sentence given without a hearing; when
+their tardiness had been all Mysie's fault, not hers. She had no notion
+that her aunt only sent them to lie down, because they looked heated,
+tired, and spent, and was really letting them off their morning's
+lessons. It was a pity that she felt too forlorn and sullen even to
+complain when Gillian brought up Macaulay's 'Armada' for her to learn
+the first twelve lines, or she might have come to an understanding, but
+all that was elicited from her was a glum 'No,' when asked if she knew
+it already. Gillian told her not to keep her dusty boots on the bed, and
+she vouchsafed no answer, for she did not consider Gillian her mistress,
+though, after she was left to herself, she found them so tight and
+hot that she took them off. Then she looked over the verses rather
+contemptuously--she who always learnt German poetry; and she had a great
+mind to assert her independence by getting off the bed, and writing a
+letter to Maude Sefton, describing the narrow stupidity of the whole
+family, and how her aunt, without hearing her, had send her to be for
+Mysie's fault. However she felt so shaky and tired that she thought she
+had better rest a little first, and somehow she fell fast asleep, and
+was only awakened by the gong. She jumped up in haste, recollecting that
+the delightful sympathizing Miss Constance was coming to luncheon,
+and set her hair and dress to rights eagerly, observing, however, to
+herself, that her horrid aunt was quite capable of imprisoning her all
+the time for not having learnt that stupid poetry.
+
+She hesitated a little where to go when she reached the hall, but the
+schoolroom door was open, and she heard a mournful voice concluding with
+a gasp--
+
+        'Our glorious semper eadem, the banner of our pride.'
+
+And Miss Vincent saying, 'Now, my dear, go and wash your face, and try
+not to be such a dismal spectacle.'
+
+And then Mysie came out, with heavy eyes and a mottled face, showing
+that she had been crying all the time she had been learning, over her
+own fault certainly, but likewise over mamma's displeasure and Dolly's
+shabbiness.
+
+'Well, Dora,' said Miss Vincent, 'have you come to repeat your poetry?'
+
+'No,' said Dolores. 'I went to sleep instead.'
+
+'Oh! I'm glad of that. I wish poor Mysie had done the same. I believe it
+was what Lady Merrifield intended, you both looked so knocked up.'
+
+Dolores cleared up a little at this, especially as Miss Vincent was no
+relation, and she thought it a good time to make her protest against
+mere English.
+
+'Oh!' she said. 'I supposed that was the reason she gave me such a
+stupid, childish, sing-song nursery rhyme to learn. I can say lots of
+Schiller and some Goethe.'
+
+'I advise you not to let any one hear you call Lord Macaulay's poem a
+nursery rhyme, or it might never be forgotten,' said Miss Vincent gaily.
+Then seeing the cloud return to Dolores's face, she added, 'You have
+been brought forward in German, I see. We must try to bring your
+knowledge of English literature up to be even with it.'
+
+Dolores liked this better than anything she had yet heard, chiefly
+because she had learnt from her books that governesses were not
+uniformly so cruel as aunts. And besides, she felt that she had been
+spared a public humiliation.
+
+By this time the guests were ringing at the door, and Miss Vincent, with
+her had on, only waiting till their entrance was made to depart. Dolores
+asked whether to go into the drawing-room, and was told that Lady
+Merrifield preferred that the children should only appear in the
+dining-room on the sound of the gong, which was not long in being heard.
+
+The Merrifields were trained not to chatter when there was company at
+table, besides Mysie and Val were in low spirits about the chance of the
+blackberry cookery. Miss Hacket sat on one side of Lady Merrifield, and
+talked about what associates had answered her letters, and what villages
+would send contingents of girls, and it sounded very dull to the
+young people. Miss Constance was next to Hal. She looked amiable and
+sympathetic at Dolores on the opposite side of the table, but discussed
+lawn-tennis tournaments with her neighbour, which was quite as little
+interesting to the general public as was the G.F.S. However, as soon as
+Primrose had said grace, Lady Merrifield proposed to take Miss Hacket
+down to the stable-yard; and the whole train followed excepting the
+two girls, who trusted Hal to see whether their pets would suffer
+inconvenience. However it soon was made evident to Gillian that she was
+not wanted, and that Dolores and Constance had no notion of wandering
+about the paved courts and bare coach-houses, among the dogs and cats,
+guinea-pigs, and fowls. Indeed, Constance, who was at least seven years
+older than Gillian, and a full-blown young lady, dismissed her by saying
+'that she was going to see Miss Mohun's books.'
+
+'Oh, certainly,' said Gillian, in a voice as though she were rather
+surprised, though much relieved.
+
+So off the friends went together--for of course they were to be friends.
+The Miss Mohun had been uttered in a tone that clearly meant to be asked
+to drop it, so they were to be Dolores and Constance henceforth, if not
+Dolly and Cons. Dolores was such a lovely name that Constance could not
+mangle it, and was sure there was some reason for it. The girl had, in
+fact, been named after a Spanish lady, whom her mother had known and
+admired in early girlhood, and to whom she had made a promise of naming
+her first daughter after her. No doubt Dolores did not know that Mrs.
+Mohun had regretted the childish promise which she had felt bound to
+keep in spite of her husband's dislike to the name, which he declared
+would be a misfortune to the child.
+
+Dolores was really proud of its peculiarity, and delighted to have any
+one to sympathize with her, in that and a great deal besides, which she
+communicated to her new friend in the window-seat of her room. When
+the two ladies went home, Constance told her sister that 'dear little
+Dolores was a remarkable character, sadly misunderstood among those
+common-place people, the Merrifields, and unjustly used, too, and she
+should do her best for her!'
+
+Meantime Gillian, finding herself not wanted, had repaired to the
+schoolroom.
+
+'Oh, it is of no use,' sighed Mysie, disconsolately. 'I've ever so
+much morning's work to make up, too. And I never shall! I've muzzled my
+head!'
+
+By which remarkable expression Mysie signified that fatigue, crying, and
+dinner had made her brains dull and heavy; but Gillian was a sensible
+elder sister.
+
+'Don't try your sum yet, then,' she said. 'Practise your scales for half
+an hour, while I do my algebra, and then we'll go over your German verbs
+together. I'll tell Miss Vincent, and she wont' mind, and I think mamma
+will be pleased if you try.'
+
+Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able to work an equation,
+and prepare her Virgil, to the sound of scales, and Mysie was a good
+deal restored by them and by hope.
+
+So when at length Constance had been summoned by her sister, who tore
+herself away from the arrangements, being bound to five-o'clock tea
+elsewhere, Mysie was discovered with a face still rather woe-begone, but
+hopeful and persevering, and though there still was a 'bill of parcels'
+where 11 and 3/4 lbs. of mutton at 13 and 1/2d. per lb. refused to come
+right, Lady Merrifield kissed her, said she had been a diligent child,
+and sent her off prancing in bliss to the old 'still-room' stove, where
+they were allowed a fire, basins, spoons, and strainers, and where the
+sugar lay in a snowy heap, and the blackberries in a sanguine pile.
+
+'There's partiality!' thought Dolores, and scowled, as she stood at the
+front door still gazing after Constance.
+
+'Won't you come, Dolly?' said Mysie. 'Or haven't you learnt your
+lessons?'
+
+'No,' said Dolly, making one answer serve for both questions.
+
+'Oh! then you can't. Shall I ask mamma to let you off?'
+
+'No, I don't care. I don't like messes! And what's the use if you
+haven't a cookery class?'
+
+'It's such fun,' said Val.
+
+'And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin and taught Gill,'
+added Mysie.
+
+'But if you haven't done your lessons, you can't go,' said Valetta
+decidedly.
+
+Off they went, and Lady Merrifield presently crossed the hall, and saw
+Dolores' attitude.
+
+'My dear, are you waiting to say those verses?' she said kindly.
+
+'I hadn't time to learn them, I went to sleep,' said Dolores.
+
+'A very good thing too, my dear. Suppose we go over them together.'
+
+Aunt Lilias took the unwilling hand, led Dolores into the schoolroom,
+and for half an hour she went over the verses with her, explaining what
+was new to the girl, and vividly describing the agitation of Plymouth,
+and the flocks of people thronging in. 'I must show her that I will be
+minded, but I will make it pleasant to her, poor child,' she thought.
+
+And it could not have been otherwise than pleasant to her, but that she
+was reflecting all this time that she was being punished while Mysie was
+enjoying herself. Therefore she put the lid on her intellect, and was
+inconceivably stupid.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. -- PERSECUTION
+
+
+
+On Monday afternoon Dolores was sitting at the end of the long garden
+walk, upon a green garden-bench, with a crocodile's head and tail
+roughly carved. The shouts of the others were audible in the distance
+beyond the belt of trees. Aunt Lily had driven into the town to meet her
+sisters, taking Fergus with her, whereas Dolores had never been out in
+the carriage. There was partiality! Though, to be sure, Fergus was to
+have a tooth out! Harry and Gillian were playing with the rest, and
+she had been invited to join, but she had made answer that she hated
+romping, and on being assured that no romping was necessary, she replied
+that she only wanted to read in peace. She had refused the "Thorn
+Fortress," which she was told would explain the game, and had hunted out
+"Clare, or No Home," to compare her lot with that of the homeless one.
+
+Certainly, she had not yet been sent to bed with a box on the ear
+because a countess had shown symptoms of noticing her more than her
+ugly, over-dressed cousin. But then Aunt Lily would not allow her to
+walk down alone to the Casement Villas to see dear Constance, and would
+let that farmer keep all those dreadful cows in the paddock, so that
+even going escorted was a terror to her.
+
+Nor had her handsome mourning been taken from her and old clothes of
+her cousin substituted for it. No, but she had been cruelly pulled about
+between Mrs. Halfpenny and the Silverton dressmaker with a mouthful of
+pins; and Aunt Lily had insisted on her dress being trimmed with velvet,
+instead of the jingling jet she preferred.
+
+Did they intercept her letters? She had had one from her father, sent
+from Falmouth, but only one from Maude Sefton in ten days! Moreover, she
+had one from Constance in her apron pocket, arrived that very afternoon,
+asking her to come down with Gillian on the Sundays, that the friends
+might enjoy themselves together while the classes were going on; but she
+made sure that all were so jealous of her friendship with Constance that
+no consent would be given.
+
+She did not hear or notice the whisperings in the laurels behind her--
+
+'Do you see that sulky old Croat, smoking his pipe under the tree?'
+
+'No, he is a Black Brunswicker.'
+
+'Nonsense, Willie; the Black Brunswickers weren't till Bonaparte's
+time.'
+
+'I don't care, he is anything black and nasty; here goes!'
+
+'Oh stop; don't shoot. I believe he is only a vivandiere. Besides, it's
+treacherous--'
+
+'I tell you he is laying a train to blow up the tower. There!'
+
+An arrow struck the bench beside Dolores, who, more angry than she had
+ever been in her life, snatched it up, unheeding that it had no point
+to speak of, rushed headlong in pursuit, while, with a tremendous shout,
+Valetta and Wilfred flew before her to a waste overgrown place at the
+end of the kitchen garden.
+
+'We've shot a Croat!'
+
+'No, a Black Brunswicker.'
+
+'Oh ah! They are coming--the enemy! Into the fortress! Bar the wolf's
+passage!'
+
+And as Dolores struggled through the bushes, she saw the whole family
+dashing into an outhouse, and the door slammed. She pushed against it,
+but an unearthly compound of howls, yells, shouts and bangs replied.
+
+'Gillian! Harry, I say,' she cried in great anger; 'come out, I want to
+speak to you.'
+
+But her voice was lost in the war-whoops within, and the louder she
+knocked, the louder grew the din, till she walked off, swelling with
+grief and indignation. Mysie, after all her professions of friendship,
+to use her in this way! And Harry and Gillian, who should have kept the
+others within bounds!
+
+Slowly she crossed the lawn, just as Lady Merrifield, the other two
+aunts, and Fergus, all came out from the glass door of the drawing-room.
+Aunt Jane, a trim little dark-eyed woman, looking at two and forty much
+the same as she might have done at five and twenty; and Aunt Adeline,
+pretty and delicately fair, with somewhat of the same grace as Lady
+Merrifield, but more languor, and an air as if everything about her were
+for effect. Though not specially fond of theses aunts, Dolores was glad
+to have them as witnesses of her ill-usage.
+
+'There stands Dolly, like a statue of Diana, dart in hand,' exclaimed
+Aunt Adeline.
+
+'Yes,' said Dolores; 'I wish to know, Aunt Lilias, if Wilfred and
+Valetta are to call me names, and shoot arrows at me?'
+
+'What do you mean, my dear?'
+
+'They came at me while I was sitting quietly reading--there--and shot at
+me, and called me such horrid names I can't repeat them, and ran away.
+Then the others, Gillian and Harry and all, would not listen to me, but
+shut themselves up in an out-house and shouted at me.'
+
+'I think there must be some mistake, Dolores,' said her aunt. 'Where are
+they?'
+
+'Out beyond there,' said Dolores, pointing in the direction in which
+Fergus was running.
+
+Lady Merrifield set off with her, and the other two ladies followed more
+slowly.
+
+'I thought it would not do,' said Aunt Jane.
+
+'Lily's children are so rough,' added Aunt Adeline.
+
+'I am not so sure that the fault is theirs,' was the reply. 'She is a
+priggish little puss, who wants shaking up.'
+
+'Ah! here come the hordes,' sighed Adeline, shrinking a little, as the
+entire population, summoned by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the
+advancing mother.
+
+'How is this, Wilfred? Have you been shooting arrows at your cousin?'
+
+'Mama!' cried Valetta, indignantly, 'he did not shoot at her; he only
+pretended, and shot the old crocodile-bench. He never meant any more. It
+was only play.'
+
+'Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the direction of any person?'
+
+'Nor I didn't!' said Wilfred. 'I only shot the crocodile. I never tried
+to hit her. She is quite big enough to miss.'
+
+'And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma,' added Valetta. 'We were
+scouts out of the Thorn Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly
+dodge to steal upon one of the enemy.'
+
+'You should have warned her.'
+
+Then it would not have been a surprise,' said Val, seriously.
+
+'Was she not at play with you?'
+
+'No, mamma,' said Mysie. 'We asked her, and she would not. I say,'
+pausing in consternation, 'Dolores, was it you that came and called at
+the door of the Wolf's passage?'
+
+'Of course. I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred behaved to me.'
+
+I thought it was Fergus come home to be the enemy.'
+
+'Didn't you know her voice?' asked the mother
+
+'We were all making such a noise ourselves in the dark,' said Gillian,
+'that there was no hearing any one; and Primrose was rather frightened,
+so that Hal was attending to her. Indeed, Dolores, I am very sorry. If
+we had guessed that it was you, we would have opened the door at once,
+and then you would have known that it was all fun and play, and not have
+troubled mamma about it.'
+
+'Wilfred and Valetta knew,' said Dolores, rather sullenly.
+
+'Oh! but it was such fun,' said Val.
+
+'It was fun that became unkindness on your part,' said her mother. 'You
+ought not to have kept it up without warning to her. And what do I hear
+about names? I hope that was also misunderstanding of the game. What did
+you call her?'
+
+'Only a Croat,' said Valetta, indignantly, 'and a Black Brunswicker.'
+
+'Was that it, Dolores?'
+
+'Perhaps,' she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh from her Aunt Jane.
+
+'I do not know what you took them for,' said Lady Merrifield, 'but you
+see some part of this trouble arose from a mistake on you part. Now,
+Wilfred and Valetta, remember that is not right to force a person into
+play against her will. And as to the shooting near, but not at her,
+you both know perfectly well that it is forbidden. So give me your bow,
+Wilfred. I shall keep it for a week, that you may remember obedience.'
+
+Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed. Dolores could not call her aunt
+unjust, but as she look round, she met glances that made her think it
+prudent to shelter herself among the elders. Aunt Jane asked what the
+game was.
+
+'The Thorn Fortress,' said Gillian. 'It comes out of that delightful
+S.P.C.K. book so called, where, in the 'Thirty Years' War,' all the
+people of a village took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the
+middle of a forest guarded by a tremendous hedge of thorns. Val had
+it for a birthday present, and the children have been acting it ever
+since.'
+
+'It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, which used to be a
+regular stage in these children's lives. Every voyage we have taken,
+somebody has come to ask whether there was any hope of being wrecked on
+one.'
+
+'Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin,' said Gillian.
+
+'He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition,' observed Harry.
+
+On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five o'clock tea in
+the drawing-room, the juniors to gouter in the dining-room. As Dolores
+entered, she beheld a row of all her five younger cousins drawn
+up looking at her as if she had committed high treason, and she was
+instantly addressed--
+
+'Tell-take tit!' began Valetta.
+
+'Sneak!' cried Wilfred.
+
+'I will call her Croat!' added Fergus.
+
+'Worse than Croat! Bashi Bazouk!' exclaimed Valetta.
+
+'Worse than Crow!' chimed in Primrose.
+
+'Oh, Dolores! How could you?' said Mysie.
+
+'To get poor Willie punished!' said Val.
+
+Dolores stood her ground. 'It was time to speak when it came to shooting
+arrows at me.'
+
+'Hush! hush! Willie,' cried Mysie. 'I told you so. Now Dolores, listen.
+Nobody ever tells of anybody when it is only being tiresome and they
+don't mean it, or there never would be any peace at all. That's honour!
+Do you see? One may go to Gill sometimes.'
+
+'One's a sneak if one does,' put in Wilfred; but Mysie, unheeding went
+on--
+
+'And Gill can help without a fuss or going to mamma.'
+
+'Mamma always knows,' said Val.
+
+'Mamma knows all about everything,' said Mysie. 'I think it's nature;
+ad if she does not always take notice at the time, she will have it out
+sooner or later.' Then resuming the thread of her discourse: 'So you
+see, Dolly, we have made up our minds that we will forgive you this
+time, because you are an only child and don't know what's what, and
+that's some excuse. Only you mustn't go on telling tales whenever an
+evident happens.'
+
+Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, but the force against
+her was overpowering, though still she hesitated. 'But if I promise not
+to tell,' she said, 'how do I know what may be done to me?'
+
+'You might trust us,' cried Mysie, with flashing eyes.
+
+'And I can tell you,' added Wilfred, 'that if you do tell, it will be
+ever so much the worse for you--girl that you are.'
+
+'War to the knife! Cried Valetta, and everybody except Mysie joined in
+the outcry. 'War to the knife with traitors in the camp.'
+
+Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again acted orator. 'You see,
+Dolores, if you did tell, it would not be possible for mamma or Gill to
+be always looking after you, and I couldn't do you much good--and if all
+these three are set against you, and are horrid to you, and I couldn't
+do you much good--horrid to you, you'll have no peace in your life; and,
+after all, we only ask of you to give and take in a good-natured sort of
+way, and not to be always making a fuss about everything you don't like.
+It is the only way, I assure you.'
+
+Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said--
+
+'Very well.'
+
+'You promise?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Then we forgive you, and here's the box of chocolate things Aunt Ada
+brought. We'll have a cigar all round and be friends. Smoke the pipe of
+peace.'
+
+Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would have been to have replied,
+'Dolores Mohun will never be intimidated;' but the fact was that her
+spirit did quail at the thought of the tortures which the two boys
+might inflict on her if Mysie abandoned her to their mercy, and she was
+relieved, as well as surprised to find that her offence was condoned,
+and she was treated as if nothing had happened.
+
+Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing-room, 'How do you get on?'
+
+'Fairly well,' was Lady Merrifield's answer. 'We shall work together in
+time.'
+
+'What does Gill say?' asked the aunt, rather mischievously.
+
+'Well,' said the young lady, 'I don't think we get on at all, not even
+poor Mysie, who works steadily on at her, gets snubbed a dozen times a
+day, and never seems to feel it.'
+
+I hoped her father would have sent her to school,' said Aunt Adeline. 'I
+knew she would be troublesome. She has all her mother's pride.'
+
+'The proudest people are those who have least to be proud of,' said Aunt
+Jane.
+
+'School would have hardened the crust and kept up the alienation,' said
+Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Perhaps not. It might teach her to value the holidays, and learn that
+blood is thicker than water,' said Miss Jane.
+
+'It is always in reserve,' added Miss Adeline.
+
+'Yes, Maurice told her to send her if I grew tired of her, as he said,'
+replied Lady Merrifield, 'but of course I should not think of that
+unless for very strong reasons.'
+
+'Oh, mamma!' and Gillian remained with her mouth open.
+
+'Well?' said Aunt Jane.
+
+'I meant to have told you mamma, but Mr. Leadbitter came in about the
+G.F.S. and stopped me, and I have never seen you to speak to since.
+Yesterday you know, I stayed from evensong to look after the little
+ones, and you said Dolores might do as she pleased, so she stayed at
+home. The children were looking at the book of Bible Pictures, and it
+came out that Dolly knew nothing at all about Joshua and the walls of
+Jericho, nor Gideon and the lamps in the pitchers, nor anything else.
+Then, when I was surprised, she said that it was not the present system
+to perplex children with the myths of ancient Jewish history.'
+
+Gillian was speaking rapidly, in the growing consciousness that her
+mother had rather have had this communication reserved for her private
+ear--and her answer was, 'Poor child!'
+
+'Just what I should expect!' said Aunt Jane.
+
+'Probably it was jargon half understood, and repeated in defence of
+her ignorance,' said Lady Merrifield. 'She is an odd mixture of defiant
+loyalty and self-defence.'
+
+'What shall you do about this kind of talk?' asked her sister.
+
+'One must hear it sooner or later,' said Harry.
+
+'That is true,' returned his mother, 'but I suppose Fergus and Primrose
+did not hear or understand.'
+
+'Oh no, mamma. I know they did not, for they were squabbling because
+Primrose wanted to turn over before Fergus had done with Gideon.'
+
+'Then I don't think there is any harm done. If it comes before Mysie or
+Val I will talk to them, and I mean to take this poor child alone for a
+little while each day in the week and try to get at her.'
+
+'There's another thing,' said Gillian. 'Is she to go down with me always
+to Casement Cottages on Sunday afternoons when I take the class?'
+
+'To teach or to learn?' ironically exclaimed Aunt Jane.
+
+'Neither,' said Gillian. 'To chatter to Constance Hacket. They both
+spoke to me about it yesterday before I went home, and I believe
+Constance has written a note to her to ask her today! Fancy, that goose
+told me my sweet cousin was a dear, and that we didn't appreciate her.
+Even Miss Hacket gave me quite a lecture on kindness and consideration
+to an orphan stranger.'
+
+'Not uncalled for, perhaps,' said Aunt Jane. 'I hope you received it in
+an edifying manner.'
+
+'Now, Aunt Jane! Well, I believe I said we were as kind as she would let
+us be, especially Mysie.'
+
+Lady Merrifield here made the move to conduct her sisters to their
+rooms; Miss Mohun detained her when they had reached hers, and had left
+Adeline to rest on her sofa. The two, though very unlike, had still the
+habits of absolute confidential intimacy belonging to sisters next in
+age.
+
+'Lily,' said Miss Mohun, 'Gillian spoke of a note. Did Maurice give you
+any directions about this child's correspondence?'
+
+'You know I did not see him. I was so much disappointed. I would give
+anything to have talked her over with him.'
+
+'I am not sure that you would have gained much. I doubt whether he knows
+much about her, poor fellow. But the letters?'
+
+'He wrote that she had been a good deal with Professor Sefton's family,
+and he thought they might like to keep up their intercourse.'
+
+'Nothing about Flinders? He ought to have warned you.'
+
+'No. Who is he?'
+
+'A half-brother--no, a step-brother to poor Mary. He was the son by a
+former marriage of her father's first wife, and has been always a
+thorn in their sides. He is a low, dissipated kind of creature; writes
+theatrical criticisms for third-rate papers, or something of that kind,
+when he is at his best. I believe Mary was really fond of him, and
+helped him more than Maurice could well bear, and since her death the
+man has perfectly pestered him with appeals to her memory. I really
+believe one reason he welcomed this post was to get out of his reach.'
+
+'You always know everything Jenny. Now how did you know this?'
+
+'I called once in the midst of an interview between him and Mary. And
+afterwards I came on poor Maurice when he was really very much provoked,
+and had it all out; ad since her death--well, I saw him get a begging
+letter from the man, and he spoke of it again. I wish I had advised him
+to warn you against the wretch.'
+
+'I don't suppose he knows where the child is. He is no relation to her,
+you say?'
+
+'None at all, happily. But on that occasion, when I was an uncomfortable
+third, Maurice was very angry that she should have been allowed to call
+him Uncle Alfred; and Mary screwed up her little mouth, and evidently
+rather liked the aggravation to Mohun pride.'
+
+'Poor Maurice, so he had a skeleton! Well, I don't see how it can hurt
+us. The man probably knows nothing about us, and even if he could trace
+the girl, he must know that she can do nothing for him.'
+
+'You had better keep an eye on her letters. He is quite capable of
+asking for the poor child's half sovereigns. I wish Maurice had given
+you authority.'
+
+'Perhaps he spoke to her about it. At any rate, what he said of the
+Seftons is quite sufficient to imply that there is no sanction to any
+other correspondence.'
+
+'That is true. Really, Lily, I believe you are the most likely person
+to do some good with her, though I don't think you know what you are in
+for. But Gillian does!'
+
+'I believe it is very good for the children to have to exercise a little
+forbearance. In spite of all our knocking about the world, our family
+exclusiveness is pretty much what ours was in the old Beechcroft days--'
+
+'When Rotherwood and Robert Mohun were out only outsiders and the
+Westons came on us like new revelations!'
+
+'It is curious to look back on,' said Lady Merrifield. 'It seems to me
+that the system, or no system, on which we were brought up was rather
+passing away even then.'
+
+'Specks we growed,' said Jane. 'What do you call the system?'
+
+'Just that people thought it their own business to bring up their
+children themselves, and let the actual technical teaching depend upon
+opportunities, whereas now they get them taught, but let the bringing up
+take it chance.'
+
+'People lived with their children then--yes, I see what you mean, Lily.
+Poor Eleanor, intending with all her might to be a mother to us, brought
+us up, as you call it, with all her powers; but public opinion would
+never have suffered us to get merely the odd sort of teaching that she
+could give us. It was regular, or course; but oh! do you remember the
+old atlas, with Germany divided into circles, and everything as it was
+before the Congress of Vienna?'
+
+'You liked geography; I hated it.'
+
+'Yes, I was young enough to come in for the elder boys' old school
+atlases, which had some sense in them. It seems to me that we had more
+the spirit of working for ourselves according to our individual tastes
+than people have now. We learnt, they are taught.'
+
+'Well! and what did we learn?'
+
+'As much as we could carry,' said Aunt Jane, laughing. 'Assimilate, if
+you like it better; and I doubt if people will turn out to have done
+more now. What becomes of all the German that is crammed down girl's
+throats, whether they have a turn for languages or not? Do they ever
+read a German book? Now you learnt it for love of Fouque and Max
+Piccolomini, and you have kept it up ever since.'
+
+'Yes, by cramming it down my children's throats. But what I complain of,
+Jane, in the young folk that come across me is not over-knowledge, but
+want of knowledge--want of general culture. This Dolores, for instance,
+can do what she has been taught better than Mysie, some tings better
+than Gillian, but she has absolutely no interest in general knowledge,
+not even in the glaciers which she has seen; she does not know whether
+Homer wrote in Greek or Latin, considers "Marmion" a lesson, cannot tell
+a planet from a star, and neither knows nor cares anything about the two
+Napoleons. Now we seem to have breathed in such things. Why! I remember
+being made into Astyanax for a very unwilling Andromache (poor Eleanor)
+for caress, and being told to shudder at the bright copper coal-scuttle,
+before Harry went to school.'
+
+'Of course poor Maurice could not cultivate his child. Yet, after all,
+we grew up without a mother; but then the dear old Baron lived among us,
+and knew what we were doing, instead of shutting us up in a schoolroom
+with some one, with only knowledge, not culture. Those very late dinners
+have quite upset all the intelligent intercourse between fathers and
+children not come out.'
+
+'Yes, Jasper and I have felt that difficulty. But after all, Jenny, when
+I look back, I cannot say I think ours was a model bringing up. What a
+strange year that was after Eleanor's marriage!'
+
+'Ah! you felt responsible and were too young for it, but to me it was a
+very jolly time, though I suppose I was an ingredient in your troubles.
+Yes, we brought ourselves up; but I maintain that it was better
+alternative than being drilled so hard as never to think of anything but
+arrant idling out of lesson-time.'
+
+'Lessons should be lessons, and play, play, is one of the professor's
+maxims to which that poor child has treated us.'
+
+'Ah! on that system, where would have been all your grand heraldic
+pedigrees? I've got them still.'
+
+'Oh! Jenny, you good old Brownie, have you? How I should like to look
+at them again and show them the Gillian and Mysie. Do you remember the
+little scalloped line we drew round all the true knights?'
+
+'Ay! and where would have been all your romancing about Sir Maurice de
+Mohun, the pride of his name? For my part, I much prefer a cavalier
+dead two hundred years ago as the object of a girl's enthusiasm--if
+enthusiasm she must have--to the existing lieutenant, or even curate.'
+
+'Certainly; I should be sorry to have been bred up to history with
+individual interest and romance squeezed out of it. You see when Jasper
+came home from the Crimea he exactly continued mine.'
+
+'You have fulfilled your ideal better than falls to the lot of most
+people, even to the item of knighthood.'
+
+'Ah! you should have heard us grumble over the expense of it. And,
+after all, I dare say Sir Maurice found his knight's fee quite as
+inconvenient! Oh!' with a start, 'there's the first bell, and here have
+I been dawdling here instead of minding my business! But it is so nice
+to have you! I day, Jenny, we will have one of our good old games at
+threadpaper verses and all the rest tonight. I want you to show the
+children how we used to play at them.'
+
+And the party played at paper games for nearly two hours that evening,
+to the extreme delight of Gillian, Mysie, and Harry, to say nothing
+of their mother and aunts, who played with all their might, even Aunt
+Adeline lighting up into droll, quiet humour. Only Dolores was
+first bewildered, then believed herself affronted, and soon gave up
+altogether, wondering that grown-up people could be so foolish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. -- G.F.S.
+
+
+
+The first thought of Dolores was that she should see Constance Hacket,
+when she heard 'Hurrah for a holiday!' resounding over the house.
+
+As she came out of her room Mysie met her. 'Hurrah! Aunt Jane has got us
+a holiday that we may help get ready for the G.F.S.! Mamma has sent down
+notes to Miss Vincent and Mr. Pollock. Oh! jolly, jolly!'
+
+And, obvious of past offences, Mysie caught her cousin's arms, and
+whirled her round and round in an exulting dance, extremely unpleasant
+to so quiet a personage. 'Don't!' she cried. 'You hurt! You make me
+dizzy!'
+
+'My certie, Miss Mysie!' exclaimed Mrs. Halfpenny at the same time,
+'ye're daft! Gae doon canny, and keep your apron on, for if I see a
+stain on that clean dress--'
+
+Mysie hopped downstairs without waiting to hear the terrible
+consequences.'
+
+Aunt Adeline did not come down to breakfast, but Aunt Jane appeared,
+fresh and glowing, just in time for prayers, having been with Gillian
+and Harry to survey the scene of operations, and to judge of the day,
+which threatened showers, the grass being dank and sparkling with
+something more than September dews.
+
+'The tables must be in the coach-house,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Happily,
+our equipages are not on a large scale, and we must not get the poor
+girls' best things drenched.'
+
+'No; and it is rather disheartening to have to address double ranks of
+umbrellas,' said Aunt Jane. 'Is the post come?'
+
+'It is always infamously late here,' said Harry. 'We complained, as the
+appointed hour is eight, but we were told 'all the other ladies were
+satisfied.' I do believe they think no one not in business has a right
+to wish for letters before nine.'
+
+'Here it comes, though,' said Gillian; and in due time the locked
+letter-bag was delivered to Lady Merrifield, and Primrose waited eagerly
+to act as postman.
+
+It was not the day for the Indian mail, but Aunt Jane expected some last
+directions, and Lady Merrifield the final intelligence as to the numbers
+of each contingent of girls. Dolores was on the qui vive for a letter
+from Maude Sefton, and devoured her aunt and the bag with her eyes. She
+was quite sure that among the bundle of post-cards that were taken out
+there was a letter. Also she saw her aunt give a little start, and
+put it aside, and when she demanded. 'Is there no letter for me?' Lady
+Merrifield's answer was,' None, my dear, from Miss Sefton.'
+
+Hot indignation glowed in Dolores's cheeks and eyes, more especially as
+she perceived a look pass between the two aunts. She sat swelling while
+talk about the chances of rain was passing round her, the forecasts in
+the paper, the cats washing their faces, the swallows flying low, the
+upshot being that it might be fine, but that emergencies were to be
+prepared for. All the time that Lady Merrifield was giving orders to
+children and servants for the preparations, Dolores kept her station,
+and the instant there was a vacant moment, she said fiercely--
+
+'Aunt Lilias, I know there is a letter for me. Let me have it.'
+
+'Your father told me you might have letter from Miss Sefton, and there
+is none from her,' said Lady Merrifield, with a somewhat perplexed air.
+
+'I may have letters from whom I choose.'
+
+'My dear, that is not the custom in general with girls of your age, and
+I know your father would not wish it. Tell me, is there any one you have
+reason to expect to hear from?'
+
+Dolores had an instinct that all the Mohuns were set against the person
+she was thinking of, but she had an answer ready, true, but which would
+serve her purpose.
+
+'There was a person, Herr Muhlwausser, that father ordered some
+scientific plates from--of microscopic zoophytes. He said he did not
+know whether anything would come of it, but, in case it should, he gave
+my address, and left me a cheque to pay him with. I have it in my desk
+upstairs.'
+
+'Very well, my dear,' said Lady Merrifield, 'you shall have the letter
+when it comes.'
+
+'The men are come, my lady, to put up the tables. Miss Mohun says will
+you come down?' came the information at that moment, sweeping away Aunt
+Lilias and everybody else into the whirl of preparation; while Dolores
+remained, feeling absolutely certain that a letter was being
+withheld from her, and she stood on the garden steps burning with hot
+indignation, when Mysie, armed with the key of the linen-press, flashed
+past her breathlessly, exclaiming--
+
+'Aren't you coming down, Dolly? 'Tis such fun! I'm come for some
+table-cloths.'
+
+This didn't stir Dolores, but presently Mysie returned again, followed
+by Mrs. Halfpenny, grumbling that 'A' the bonnie napery that she had
+packed and carried sae mony miles by sea and land should be waured on
+a wheen silly feckless taupies that 'tis the leddies' wull to cocker up
+till not a lass of 'em will do a stroke of wark, nor gie a ceevil answer
+to her elders.'
+
+Mysie, with a bundle of damask cloths under her arm, paused to repeat,
+'Are you not coming Dolly? Your dear Miss Constance is there looking for
+you?'
+
+This did move Dolores, and she followed to the coach-house, where
+everybody was buzzing about like bees, the tables and forms being
+arranged, and upon them dishes with piles of fruit and cakes,
+contributions from other associates. All the vases, great and small,
+were brought out, and raids were made on the flower garden to fill them.
+Little scarlet flags, with the name of each parish in white, were placed
+to direct the parties of guests to their places, and Harry, Macrae, and
+the little groom were adorning the beams with festoons. The men from
+the coffee-tavern supplied the essentials, but the ladies undertook the
+decoration, and Aunt Adeline, in a basket-chair, with her feet on a
+box, directed the ornamentation with great taste and ability. Constance
+Hacket had been told off to make up a little bouquet to lay beside each
+plate, and Dolores volunteered to help her.
+
+'Well, dearest, will you come to me on Sunday?'
+
+'I don't know. I have not been able to ask Aunt Lilias yet, and Gillian
+was very cross about it.'
+
+'What did she say?'
+
+'She said she did not think Aunt Lilias approved of visiting and
+gossiping on Sunday.'
+
+'Oh! now. What does Gillian do herself?' said Constance in a hurt voice.
+'She does come and teach, certainly, but she stays ever so long talking
+after the class is over. Why should we gossip more than she does?'
+
+'Yes; but people's own children can do no wrong.'
+
+There Constance became inattentive. Mr. Poulter had come up, and wanted
+to be useful, so she jumped up with a handful of nosegays to instruct
+him in laying them by each plate, leaving Dolores to herself, which
+she found dull. The other two, however, came back again, and the work
+continued, but the talk was entirely between the gentleman and lady,
+chiefly about music for the choral society, and the voices of the
+singers, about which Dolores neither knew nor cared.
+
+By one o'clock the long tables were a pretty sight, covered with piles
+of fruit and cakes, vases of flowers and little flags, establishments of
+teacups at intervals, and a bouquet and pretty card at every one of the
+plates.
+
+Then came early dinner at the house, and such rest as could be had after
+it, till the pony-chaise, waggonette, and Mrs. Blackburne's carriage
+came to the door to convey to church all whom they could carry, the rest
+walking.
+
+The church was a sea of neat round hats, mostly black, with a
+considerable proportion of feathers, tufts, and flowers. On their dark
+dresses were pinned rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to
+which parish they belonged. There was a bright, short service, in which
+the clear, high voices of the multitudinous maidens quite overcame
+those of the choir boys, and then an address, respecting which Constance
+pronounced that 'Canon Fremont was always so sweet,' and Dolores
+assented, without in the least knowing what it had been about.
+
+Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept guard, in the walk from
+church, over the white-rosed Silverton detachment; but another shower
+was impending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must not get wet,
+rushed up and packed her into the waggonette, where Dolores was climbing
+after, when at a touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield looked round.
+
+'Dolores,' she said, 'you forget that Miss Hacket walked to church.'
+
+Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black as thunder, and
+Miss Hacket protested that she was not tired, and could not leave her
+girls.
+
+'Never mind the girls, I will look after them; I meant to walk. Don't
+stand on the step. Come down,' she added sharply, but not in time, for
+the horses gave a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, down tumbled
+Dolores, or would have tumbled, but that she was caught between her
+aunt and Miss Hacket, who with one voice admonished her never to do
+that again, for there was nothing more dangerous. Indeed, there was more
+anger in Lady Merrifield's tone than her niece had yet heard, and as
+there was no making out that there was the least injury to the girl, she
+was forced to walk home, in spite of all Miss Hacket's protestations
+and refusals, which had nearly ended in her exposing herself to the same
+peril as Dolores, only that Lady Merrifield fairly pushed her in and
+shut the door on her. Nothing would have compensated to Dolores but that
+her Constance should have jumped out to accompany her and bewail her
+aunt's cruelty, but devotion did not reach to such an extent. Her aunt,
+however, said in a tone that might be either apology or reproof--
+
+'My dear, I could not let poor Miss Hacket walk after all she has done
+and with all she has to do today.'
+
+Dolores vouchsafed no answer, but Aunt Jane said--
+
+'All which applies doubly to you, Lily.'
+
+'Not a bit; I am not run about like all of you,' she answered, brightly.
+'Besides, it is such fun! I feel like Whit Monday at Beechcroft! Don't
+you remember the pink and blue glazed calico banners crowned with summer
+snowballs? And the big drum? What a nice-looking set of girls! How
+pleasant to see rosy, English faces tidily got up! They were rosy enough
+in Ireland, but a great deal too picturesque. Now these are a sort of
+flower of maidenhood--'
+
+'You are getting quite poetical, Lily.'
+
+'It's the effect of walking in procession--there's something quite
+exhilarating in it; ay, and of having a bit of old Beechcroft about me.
+Do tell me who that lady is; I ought to know her, I'm sure! Oh, Miss
+Smith, good morning. How many girls have you brought? Oh! the crimson
+rosettes, are they? York and Lancaster?--indeed. I'm glad we have
+some shelter for them; I'm afraid there is another shower. Have you no
+umbrella, my dear? Come under mine.'
+
+It was a fierce scud of hail, hitting rather than wetting, but Dolores
+had the satisfaction of declaring the edges of her dress to be damp and
+going off to change it, though Aunt Jane pinched the kilting and said
+the damp was imperceptible, and Wilfred muttered, 'Made of sugar, only
+not so sweet.'
+
+In fact, she hoped that Constance, who had told of her hatred to these
+great functions and willingness to do anything to avoid them, would
+avail herself of the excuse; but though the young lady must have seen
+her go, she never attempted to follow; and Dolores, feeling her own room
+dull, came down again to find the drawing-room empty, and on the next
+gleam of sunshine, she decided on going to seek her friend.
+
+What a hum and buzz pervaded the stable-yard! There was a coach-house
+with all its great doors open, and the rows of girls awakening from
+their first shy and hungry silence into laughter and talking. There
+were big urns and fountains steaming, active hands filling cups, all
+the cousins, all their congeners, and four or five clergymen acting
+as waiters, Aunt Adeline pouring out tea a the upper table for any
+associate who had time to swallow it, and Constance Hacket talking away
+to a sandy-haired curate, without so much as seeing her friend! Only
+Wilfred, at sight of his cousin again, getting up a violent mock cough,
+declaring that he thought she had gone to bed with congealed lungs or
+else Brown Titus, as the old women called it. His mother, however, heard
+the cough--which, indeed, was too remarkable a sound not to attract any
+one--and with a short, sharp word to him to take care, she put Dolores
+down under Aunt Ada's wing, and provided her with a lovely peach and a
+delicious Bath bun. Constance just looked up and nodded, saying, 'You
+dear little thing, I couldn't think what was become of you,' and then
+went on with her sandy curate, about--what was it?--Dolores know not,
+only that it seemed very interesting, and she was left out of it.
+
+Down came the rain, a hopeless downpour, and there was a consultation
+among the elders, some laughing, some doubtful looks, and at last Harry,
+with Macrae and one of the curates, disappeared. Then grace was sung,
+and speeches followed--one by the rector, Mr. Leadbitter, fatherly and
+prosy;--a paper read by the Branch Secretary, about affairs in general;
+and a very amusing speech by Miss Mohun, full of anecdotes of example
+and warning. 'You know,' she said, 'all the school story-books end--when
+the grown up books marry their people--with the good girl going out to
+service under her young lady, and there she lives happy ever after! But
+some of us know better! We don't know how far the marrying ones always
+do live very happy ever after--'
+
+'For shame, Jenny!' muttered Lady Merrifield.
+
+'But,' went on Miss Mohun, 'even you that have been lucky enough to get
+under your own young ladies know that life here is all new beginnings at
+the bottom, just as when you were very proud of yourselves for getting
+out of the infant school, you found it was only being at the bottom
+of the upper one; and I can tell the twelve-year-olds--I see some of
+them--that it is often a finer thing to be at the head of the school
+than the last in the house. Ay, you've got to work up there again, and
+it is a long business and a steady business, but it is to be done. I
+knew a girl, thirty-five years ago, that my sister-in-law took from
+school, and she was not a genius either, and I am quite sure she could
+not do rule-of-three, nor tell what is the capital of Dahomey, as I dare
+say every one here can do, but I'll tell you what she did, and that was,
+her best, and there she has been ever since; and the last time I saw
+her was sitting up in her housekeeper's room, in her silk gown, with her
+master's grandchildren hanging about her, respected and loved by us all.
+And I knew another, a much clever girl at school, with prettier ways to
+begin with, but--I'm sorry to say, her finger were too clever, and it
+was not very happy ever after, though she did right herself.' And
+then Aunt Jane went on to the difficulties of having to deal with
+such quantities of pots and pans, and knives and forks, and cloths and
+brushes, each with a use of its very own, just as if she had been a
+scullery-maid herself; telling how sense and memory must be brought to
+bear on these things just as much as in analyzing a sentence, and how
+even those would not do without the higher motive of faithfulness to
+Him whose servants we all are. Her finish was a picture of the roving
+servant girl, always saying, 'I don't like it,' and always seeking
+novelty, illustrated by her experience of a little maid who left one
+place because she could not sleep alone, and another because the little
+girl slept with her, a third because it was so lonesome, and a fourth
+because it was so noisy, and quitted her fifth within a half year
+because she could not eat twice cooked meat.
+
+Aunt Jane varied her voice in the most comical way, and the girls, as
+well as all her audience, laughed heartily.
+
+'Bravo, Jenny!' said a voice close to her, and a gentleman with a rather
+bald head, a fluffy, light beard touched with white, dancing eyes, and a
+slim, youthful figure, was seen standing in the group.
+
+Lady Merrifield and her sisters cried with one glad voice, 'Oh!
+Rotherwood!' holding out their hands.
+
+'Yes. I found I'd a few hours between the trains, so I ran down to look
+you up. I met Harry at the house, and he told me I should find Jane
+qualifying for the female parliament.'
+
+'It's such a pity you should fall on all this turmoil,' said Aunt Ada.
+
+'Pity! I wouldn't have missed Jenny's wisdom for the world. What is it,
+Lily? Temperance, or have you set up a Salvation Army?
+
+'G.F.S., of course, you Rotherwood of old! And now you are come, you
+shall save me from what has been my bugbear for the last week. You shall
+give the premiums.'
+
+'Come, it's no use making faces and pretending you know nothing about
+it,' added Miss Mohun. 'I know very well that Florence is deep in it!'
+
+'Ay, they'll have you over to repeat that splendid harangue about pots
+and pans!' said he, bowing at Lady Merrifield's introductions of him to
+the bystanders, and obediently accepting the sheaf of envelopes, while
+Mr. Leadbitter made it known that the premiums would be given by the
+Marquess of Rotherwood. Certainly it was a much more lively business
+than if Lady Merrifield had performed it, for he had something droll
+to observe to each girl. One he pretended to envy, telling her he
+had worked hard for may a year, and never got such a card as that for
+it--far less five shillings. Another he was sure kept her pans bright,
+and always knew which was which; a very little one was asked if she had
+gone from her cradle, and so on, always sending them away with a broad
+smile, and professing great respect for the three seven-year-card
+maidens who came up last. Then in a concluding speech he demanded--where
+were the premiums for the mistresses, who, he was quite sure, deserved
+them quite as much or more than the maids!
+
+While everybody was still laughing, Lady Merrifield asked Mr. Leadbitter
+to explain that as it was still raining hard, she must ask all to
+adjourn to the great loft over the stable, where they could enjoy
+themselves. Each associate was to gather her own flock and bring them
+in order. Lady Merrifield said she would lead the way, Lord Rotherwood
+coming with her, picking up little Primrose in his arms to carry her
+upstairs to the loft.
+
+Every one was moving. Dolores was among a crowd of strangers. She
+heard them saying how delightful Lord Rotherwood was, and charming
+and handsome and graceful Lady Merrifield, with her beautiful eyes. It
+worried Dolores, who thought it rather foolish to be pretty, except in
+the case of persecuted orphan, and, moreover, admiration of her
+aunt always seemed to her disparagement of her mother. And where was
+Constance?
+
+She followed the stream, and, climbing some stairs, came out into
+a large, long, empty hay-loft, over what had once been hunting
+stables--the children's wet-day play-place. The deputation dispatched to
+the house had managed to get up there the schoolroom piano, and one of
+the curates sat down to it, and began playing dance music, while Miss
+Mohun, Miss Hacket, and the other ladies began arranging couples for a
+country dance--all girls, of course, except that Lord Rotherwood danced
+with the tiny premium girl, and Harry with Primrose. Wilfred and Fergus
+could not be incited to make the attempt; Mysie offered herself to
+Dolores, but in vain. 'I hate dancing,' was all the answer she got,
+and she went off to persuade Lois, the nursery girl. Constance Hacket
+arranged herself on a chair, and looked out from between two curates;
+there was no getting at her.
+
+Then there came a pause; Lord Rotherwood spoke to Gillian, and must have
+asked her to point Dolores out, for presently he made his way to the
+little dark figure in the window, and, kindly laying his hand on her
+shoulder, asked whether she had heard from her father yet.
+
+'No, I suppose you can't,' he added. 'It is a great break-up for you;
+but you are a lucky girl to be taken in here! It reminds me of what
+Beechcroft used to be to me when I was a stray fish, though not quite so
+lonely as you are. Make the most of it, for there aren't many in these
+days like Aunt Lily there!'
+
+'He little knows,' thought Dolores, as a waltz began to be played.
+
+'They want an example,' he said. 'Come along. You know how, I'm sure--a
+Londoner like you!'
+
+Pairs were whirling about the floor in full career in a short time, to
+the astonishment of other maidens who had never seen dancing in their
+lives. Dolores, afraid to refuse, and certainly flattered, really was
+wonderfully exhilarated and brightened by her career wither good-natured
+cousin.
+
+'I do believe Cousin Rotherwood has shaken her out of the dumps,'
+observed Gillian to Aunt Jane, who returned--
+
+'He can do it if any one can.'
+
+The funny thing was the effect upon Constance, who, in the next pause,
+shook off her curates, advanced to Dolores, who was recovering her
+breath under the window, called her a dear thing whom she had not been
+able to get to all this time, sat rather forward with an arm round
+her waist for the next half-hour, and, when Sir Roger de Coverley was
+getting up, proposed that they should be partners, but not till she had
+seen Lord Rotherwood pair himself off with Mysie.
+
+'I must,' said he to Lady Merrifield, 'it's so like dancing with honest
+Phyl.'
+
+'The greatest compliment you could have, Mysie,' said her mother,
+looking very much pleased.
+
+The last yellow patches of evening sunshine on the sloping roof faded;
+watches were looked at, the music turned to the National Anthem,
+everybody stood up, or stood still, and sung it. Then at the close, Mr.
+Leadbitter stood by the piano and said--
+
+'One word more, my young friends. Some of you may have been surprised at
+this evening's amusement, but we want you to understand that there is
+no harm in dancing itself, provided that the place, the manner, and
+the companions are fit. I hope that you will all prove the truth of my
+words, by not taking this pleasant evening as an excuse for running
+into places of temptation. Now, good night, with many thanks to Lady
+Merrifield for the happy day she has given us.'
+
+A voice added, 'Three cheers for Lady Merrifield!' and the G.F.S. showed
+itself by no means backward in the matter of cheering. There was a
+hunting up of ulsters and umbrellas; one associate after another got her
+flock together, and clattered downstairs, either to get into vans, to
+walk to the station, or to disperse to their homes in the town.
+
+Meantime Lord Rotherwood had time to explain that he was on his way
+to fetch his wife home from some German baths, where she had gone to
+recruit after the season; and, as he meant to cross at night, had come
+to spend a few hours with his cousin. There was still an hour to spare,
+during which Lady Merrifield insisted that he must have more solid food
+than G.F.S. provided.
+
+'Lily,' said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to the house together, 'it
+strikes me that Rotherwood could satisfy your mind about that letter. He
+would know the handwriting. You remember a certain brother--very much in
+law--of Maurice's?'
+
+'I have reason to do so,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'You don't mean that he
+has been troubling Lily?'
+
+'No; but from the nature of the animal it is much to be apprehended that
+he will,' said Miss Mohun, 'if he knows that the child is here.'
+
+'In fact,' said Lady Merrifield, 'Jane has made me suppress, till
+examination, a letter to her, in case it should be from him. It is a
+horrid thing to do. What do you think, Rotherwood?'
+
+'There should be no correspondence. Did not Maurice warn you? Then
+he ought. Look here, Lily. His wife--under strong compulsion from the
+fellow, I should think--begged me to find some employment for him. I got
+him a secretaryship to our Board of--what d'ye call it? I'll do Maurice
+the justice to say that he was considerably cool about it; but the end
+of it was that there was an unaccountable deficit, and my lady said it
+served me right. I was a fool, as I always am, and gave way to the poor
+woman about not bringing it home to him. And she insisted on making
+it up to me by degrees--out of her literary work, I fancy--for I don't
+think Maurice knew the extent of the peculation. Ever since I've been
+getting begging letters from the fellow at intervals. If he had the
+impertinence to molest you, Lily, simply refer him to me.'
+
+'And if he writes to the child?'
+
+'Return him the letter. Say she can have no such thing without her
+father's consent.'
+
+'Is this a case in point?' said Lady Merrifield, producing the letter.
+
+'No,' said he, holding it up in the waning light. 'I know the fellow's
+fist too well! This is a gentleman's hand.'
+
+'What a relief!' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Nay, don't be in a hurry,' said Miss Mohun. 'Don't give it to her
+unopened. Your only safety is in maintaining your right to see all the
+child's letters, except what her father specified.'
+
+'Don't you wish it was you, Brownie?' asked her cousin.
+
+'I hate it!' said Lady Merrifield; 'but I suppose I ought! However,
+there's no harm in this, that's a comfort; it is simply that the
+gentleman that the house is let to has found this note to her somewhere
+about, and thinks she would wish to have it. I think it is her mother's
+hand. How nice of him!'
+
+'Now, Lily, don't go and be too apologetic,' said Jane. 'Assert your
+right, or you'll have it all over again.'
+
+'Without Jenny to do prudence,' said Lord Rotherwood, while Lady
+Merrifield, hardly hearing either of them, hurried on in search of her
+niece, but they would have been satisfied if they could have heard her.
+
+'My dear, here's your letter. I am so sorry to have been too much
+hindered to look at it before. You must not mind, Dolly. I know it is
+very disagreeable; but every one who has the care of precious articles
+like young ladies is bound to look after them.'
+
+Dolores took the letter with a kind of acknowledgement, but no more,
+for its detention offended her, and she was aggrieved at the prospect of
+future inspection, as another cruel stroke inflicted upon her.
+
+Aunt Adeline was found in the drawing-room, where she had entertained
+such ladies as were afraid of the damp, or who did not approve of the
+dancing, and would not look on at it. Thence all went off to a merry
+meal, where the elders plunged into old stories, and went on capping
+each others' recollections and making fun, to the extreme delight of
+the young folk, who had often been entertained with tales of Beechcroft.
+Aunt Ada declared that she had not laughed so much for ten years, and
+Aunt Jane declared that it was too bad to lower their dignity and be so
+absurd before all these young things.
+
+'It's having four of the old set together!' said Lord Rotherwood; 'a
+chance one doesn't get every day. I wonder how soon Maurice and Phyllis
+will meet.'
+
+'It depends on whether the Zenobia touches at Auckland before going to
+the Fijis,' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'There is at least a sort of neighbourhood between them,' said Miss
+Mohun, 'though it may be about as close as between us and Sicily.'
+
+'She is looking out for Maurice,' said Aunt Ada. 'She wrote, only it was
+too late, to propose his bringing Dolores to be at least nearer to him.'
+
+'Just like Phyllis!' ejaculated the marquess. 'You have one of your
+flock with something of her countenance, Lily.'
+
+'I am so glad you see it, Rotherwood. It is what I am always trying
+to believe in, and I hope the likeness is a little within as well as
+without--but we poor creatures who have been tumbled about the world get
+sophisticated, and can't attain to the sweet, blundering freshness of
+"Honest Simplicity."'
+
+'It is a plant that must be spontaneous--can't be grown to order.'
+
+'His lordship's carriage at the door,' announced Macrae.
+
+'Ah, well! Trains must be caught, I suppose. I'm glad you're settled
+here, Lilias. I feel as if a sort of reflex of old Beechcroft were
+attainable now.'
+
+'I hope it won't be a G.F.S. day next time you come!'
+
+'Oh, it was very jolly. I shall bring my child next time, if I can get
+her out of the clutches of the governesses for a day, but it is a hard
+matter. They look daggers at me if I put my head into the schoolroom.'
+
+'You always were a dangerous element there, you know.'
+
+'Poor dear Eleanor! What did I not make her go through! But she never
+went the length of one of my lady's governesses, who declared that
+she had as much call to interfere in my stable, as I had with her
+schoolroom.'
+
+'What mischief were you doing there?'
+
+'Well, if you must know, I was enlivening a very dry and Cromwellian
+abridgement with some of Lily's old cavalier anecdotes, so Lily was at
+the bottom of it, you see.'
+
+'But did she fall on you then and there?'
+
+'No, no. I trust my beard is too grey for that. But she looked at me
+with impressive dignity such as neither poor little Fly nor I could
+stand, and afterwards betook herself to Victoria, who, I am happy to
+say, sent her to the right about.'
+
+'As I am about to do,' said Lady Merrifield; 'for if you don't miss
+your train, it will be by cruelty to animals. No, you've not got time to
+shake hands with all that rabble. Be off with you.'
+
+'Ah! I shall tell Victoria that if she sees me tomorrow it's all owing
+to your unpitying punctuality,' said he, shaking himself into his
+overcoat.
+
+'Dear old fellow!' said Lady Merrifield, as she turned from the front
+door, while he drove off. 'He is like a gust of old Beechcroft air! But
+I should think Victoria had a handful.'
+
+'She knew what she was doing,' said Aunt Ada. 'I always thought she
+married him for the sake of breaking him in.'
+
+'And very well she has done it, too,' returned Aunt Jane. 'Only now and
+then he gets a holiday, and then the real creature breaks out again.
+But it is much better so. He would not have been of half so much good
+otherwise.'
+
+Lady Merrifield looked from one to the other, but said no more, for
+all the young folks were round her; but every one was so much tired,
+children, servants, and all, that prayers were read early, and all went
+to their rooms. Yet, tired as she was, Lady Merrifield sat on in her
+sister Jane's room, in her dressing-gown, talking according to another
+revival of olden time.
+
+'What did Ada mean about Rotherwood? Isn't he happy?'
+
+'Oh yes, very happy; and it is much the best thing that could have
+happened. It is only another of the proofs that life is very long,
+especially for men.'
+
+'Come, now, tell me all about it. You don't know how often I feel as if
+I had been buried and dug up again.'
+
+'There are things one can't write about. Poor fellow! he never really
+wanted to marry anybody but Phyllis.'
+
+'No! you don't mean it! I never knew it.'
+
+'No, for you were in the utmost parts of the earth; and he was very
+good, so that I don't believe honest Phyl herself, or any one without
+eyes, guessed it; but he had it all out with our father, who begged him,
+almost on that allegiance he had always shown, to abstain from beginning
+about it. You see, not only are they first cousins, but our mother and
+his father both were consumptive, and there was dear Claude even then
+regularly breaking down every winter, and Ada needing to be looked after
+like a hothouse plan. I'm sure, when I think of the last generation of
+Devereuxes, I wonder so many of us have been tough enough to weather
+the dangerous age; and there had been an alarm or two about Rotherwood
+himself. Well, he was very good, half from obedience, half from being
+convinced that it would be a selfish thing, and especially from being
+wholly convinced that Phyl's feelings were not stirred. That was the way
+I came to know about it, for papa took me out for a drive in the old gig
+to ask what I thought about her heart, and I could truly and honestly
+say she had never found it, cared for Rotherwood just as she did for
+Reggie, and was not the sort to think whether a man was attentive to
+her. Besides, she was eighteen, and he thirty-one, and she thought him
+venerable. I believe, if he had asked her then, she might have taken him
+(because Cousin Rotherwood wished it), but she would have had to fall in
+love in the second place instead of the first. Well, he was very good,
+poor old fellow, except that by way of taking himself off, and diverting
+his mind, he went dear-stalking with such unnecessary vehemence that a
+Scotch mist was very nearly the death of him, and he discovered that he
+had as many lungs as other people. If you could only have seen our dear
+old father then, how distressed and how guilty he felt, and how he used
+to watch Phyllis, and examine Alethea and me as to whether she seemed
+more than reasonably concerned for Rotherwood had come and hit the right
+nail on the head he might have carried her off.'
+
+'But he didn't.'
+
+'No; for, you see, he was ill enough to convince himself, as well as
+other people, that he was a consumptive Devereux after all.'
+
+'Oh yes! I remember the shock with which I heard like a doom that he was
+going the way of the others; and hen he and the dear Claude came out
+in his yacht to us at Gibraltar, and were so bright! We had a wonderful
+little journey into Spain together, and how Jasper enjoyed it! Little
+did I think I was never to see Claude here again. But it was true,
+was it not, that all Rotherwood's care gave the dear fellow much more
+comfort--perhaps kept him longer?'
+
+'I am sure it was so. Rotherwood soon got over his own attachment--the
+missing an English winter was all he needed; but he would hear of
+nothing but devoting himself to Claude. Papa and Claude were both uneasy
+at his going off from all his cares and duties, but I believe--and
+Claude knew it--that he actually could not settle down quietly while
+Phyllis remained unmarried, and that having Claude to nurse and carry
+about from climate was the comfort of his life. Or, I believe, dear
+Claude would have been glad to have been left in peace to do what he
+could. Well, then Phyllis and Ada went to stay in the Close with Emily,
+and Ada wrote conscious letters and came home bridling and blushing
+about Captain May, so that we were quite prepared for his turning up at
+Beechcroft, but not at all for what I saw before he had been ten minutes
+in the house, that it was Phyllis that he meant, and had meant all
+along! Dear Harry! it almost made up for its not being Rotherwood. Well,
+poor Ada! It hadn't gone too deep, happily, and I opened her eyes in
+time to hinder any demonstration that could have left pain and shame--at
+least, I think so; but poor Ada has had too many little fits for one to
+have told much more than another. I believe Phyl did tell Harry that
+he meant Ada, but she let herself be convinced to the contrary; and
+the only objection I have to it is his having taken that appointment
+at Auckland, and carried her out of reach of any of us. However, it was
+better for Rotherwood, and when she was gone, and his occupation over
+with our dear Claude, his mother was always at him to let her see him
+married before she died. And so he let her have her way. No, don't look
+concerned. Lady Rotherwood is an excellent, good woman, just the wife
+for him, and he knows it, and does as she tells him most faithfully and
+gratefully. They are pattern-folk from top to toe, and so is the boy.
+But the girl! He would have his way, and named her Phyllis--Fly he calls
+her. She is a little skittish elf--Rotherwood himself all over; and
+doesn't he worship her! and doesn't he think it a holiday to carry her
+off to play pranks with! and isn't he happy to get amongst a good lot of
+us, and be his old self again!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. -- MY PERSECUTED UNCLE
+
+
+
+Dolores was allowed to go to Casement Cottage on Sunday. It was always
+rather an awful thing to her to get through the paddock when the
+farmer's cattle turned out there. She did not mind it so much in the
+broad road and in the midst of a large party, with Hal among them, and
+no dogs; but alone with only one companion, and in the easy path which
+was the shortest way to the cottage, she winced and trembled at the
+little black, shaggy Scotch oxen, with white horns and faces that looked
+to her very wild and fierce.
+
+'Oh, Gillian, those creatures! Can't we go the other way?'
+
+'No; it is a great deal further round, and there's no time. They won't
+hurt. The farmer engaged not to turn out anything vicious here.'
+
+'But how can he be sure?'
+
+'Well, don't come if you don't like it,' said Gillian, impatiently. 'It
+is your own concern. I must go.'
+
+Dolores did not like the notion of Constance being told that she would
+not come because she was afraid of the oxen. She thought it very unkind
+of Gillian, but she came, and kept carefully on the side furthest from
+the formidable animals. And Gillian really was forbearing. She did make
+allowances for the London-bred girl's fears; and the only thing she did
+was, that when one of the animals lifted up its head and looked, and
+Dolores made a spring as if to run away, she caught the girl's arm,
+crying, 'Don't! That's the very way to make him run after you.'
+
+They got safe out of the paddock at last, and rang at the door. They
+were both kissed, Dolores with especial affectionateness, because the
+good ladies pitied her so much; and then while Miss Hacket and Gillian
+went off to their class, Constance took Dolores up into her own room,
+and began to tell her how disappointed she was not to have seen more of
+her at the Festival.
+
+'But those curates would not let me alone. I was obliged to attend to
+them.'
+
+And then she was very eager to know all about Lord Rotherwood, which
+rather amazed Dolores, who had been in the habit of hearing her father
+mention him as 'that mad fellow Rotherwood,' while her mother always
+spoke with contempt of people who ran after lords and ladies, and had
+been heard to say that Lord Rotherwood himself was well enough, but his
+wife was a mere fine lady.
+
+But Dolores had a matter on which she was very anxious.
+
+'Connie, do they always read one's letters first? I mean the old people,
+like Aunt Lily.'
+
+'What! has she been reading your letters?'
+
+'She says she always shall, except father's and Maude Sefton's, because
+papa spoke to her about that. She took a letter of mine the other day,
+and never let me have it till the evening, and I am sure Aunt Jane put
+her up to it.'
+
+'You poor darling!' exclaimed Constance. 'Was it anything you cared
+about?'
+
+'Oh no--not that--but there might be. And I want to know whether she has
+the right.'
+
+'I should not have thought Lady Merrifield would have been so like an
+old schoolmistress. Miss Dormer always did, the old cat! where I went to
+school,' said Constance. 'We did hate it so! She looked over every one's
+letters, except parents', so that we never could have anything nice,
+except by a chance or so.'
+
+'It is tyranny,' said Dolores, solemnly. 'I do not see why one should
+submit to it.'
+
+'We had dodges,' continued Constance, warming with the history of her
+school-days, and far too eager to talk to think of the harm she might be
+doing to the younger girl. 'Sometimes, when a lot of us went to a shop
+with one of the governesses, one would slip out and post a letter.
+Fraulein was so short-sighted, she never guessed. We used to call her
+the jolly old Kafer. But Mademoiselle was very sharp. She once caught
+Alice Bell, so that she had to make an excuse and say she had dropped
+something. You see, she really had--the letter into the slit.'
+
+'But that was an equivocation.'
+
+'Oh, you darling scrupulous, long-worded child! You aren't like the
+girls at Miss Dormer's, only she drove us to it, you know. You'll be
+horribly shocked, but I'll tell you what Louie Preston did. There was
+a young man in the town whom she had met at a picnic in the holidays--a
+clerk, he was, at the bank--and he used to put notes to her under the
+cushions at church; but one unlucky Sunday, Louie had a cold and didn't
+go, and she told Mabel Blisset to bring it, and Mabel didn't understand
+the right place, and went poking about, so that Miss Dormer found it
+out, and there was such a row!'
+
+'Wasn't that rather vulgar?' said Dolores.
+
+'Well, he was only a clerk, but he was a duck of a man, with regular
+auburn hair, you know. And he sang! We used to go to the Choral Society
+concerts, and he sang ballads so beautifully, and always looked at
+Louie!'
+
+'I should not care for anything of that sort,' said Dolores. 'I think it
+is bad form.'
+
+'So it is,' said Constance, seriously, 'only one can't help recollecting
+the fun of the thing, and what one was driven to in those days. Is there
+any one you are anxious to correspond with?'
+
+'Not in particular, only I can't bear to have Aunt Lilias meddling with
+my letters; and there's a poor uncle of mine that I know would not like
+her, or any of the Mohuns, to see his letters.
+
+'Indeed! Your poor mamma's brother?' cried Constance, full of curiosity.
+
+'Mind, it is in confidence. You must never tell any one.'
+
+'Never. Oh, you may trust me!' cried Constance.
+
+'Her half-brother,' said Dolores; and the girl proceeded to tell
+Constance what she had told Maude Sefton about Mr. Flinders, and how her
+mother had been used to assist him out of her own earnings, and how he
+had met her at Exeter station, and was so disappointed to have missed
+her father. Constance listened most eagerly, greatly delighted to have a
+secret confided to her, and promising to keep it with all her might.
+
+'And now,' said Dolores, 'what shall I do? If poor Uncle Alfred writes
+to me, Aunt Lilias will have the letter and read it, and the Mohuns are
+all so stuck up; they will despise him, and very likely she will never
+let me have the letter.'
+
+'Yes, but, dear, couldn't you write here, with my things, and tell him
+how it is, and tell him to write under cover to me?'
+
+'Dear Connie! How good you are! Yes, that would be quite delightful!'
+
+All the confidences and all the caresses had, however, taken quite as
+long as the G.F.S. class, and before Constance had cleared a space on
+the table for Dolores's letter, there was a summons to say that Gillian
+was ready to go home.
+
+'So early!' said Constance. 'I thought you would have had tea and stayed
+to evening service.'
+
+'I should like it so much,' cried Dolores, remembering that it would
+spare her the black oxen in the cross-path, as well as giving her the
+time with her friend.
+
+So they went down with the invitation, but Gillian replied that mamma
+always liked to have all together for the Catechism, and that she could
+not venture to leave Dolores without special permission.
+
+'Quite right, my dear,' said Miss Hacket. 'Connie would be very sorry to
+do anything against Lady Merrifield's rules. We shall see you again in a
+day or two.'
+
+And this is the way in which Constance kept her friend's secret. When
+Miss Hacket had done her further work with a G.F.S. young woman who
+needed private instruction to prepare her for baptism, the two sisters
+sat down to a leisurely tea before starting for evensong; in the first
+place, Constance detailed all she had discovered as to the connection
+with Lord Rotherwood, in which subject, it must be confessed, good Miss
+Hacket took a lively interest, having never so closely encountered a
+live marquess, 'and so affable,' she contended; upon which Constance
+declared that they were all stuck-up, and were very unkind and hard to
+poor darling Dolores.
+
+'I don't know. I cannot fancy dear Lady Merrifield being unkind to any
+one, especially a dear girl as good as an orphan,' said Miss Hacket,
+who, if not the cleverest of women, was one of the best and most
+warm-hearted. 'And, indeed, Connie, I don't think dear Gillian and Mysie
+feel at all unkindly to their cousin.'
+
+'Ah! that's just like you, Mary. You never see more than the outside,
+but then I am in dear Dolly's confidence.'
+
+'What do you mean, Connie?' said Miss Hacket, eagerly.
+
+Constance had come home from school with the reputation of being much
+more accomplished than her elder sister, who had grown up while her
+father was a curate of very straitened means, and thus, though her
+junior, she was thought wonderfully superior in discernment and
+everything else.
+
+'Well,' said Constance, 'what do you think of Lady Merrifield sending
+her to bed for staying late here that morning?'
+
+'That was strict, certainly; but you know she sent Mysie too. It was all
+my own thoughtlessness for detaining them,' said the good elder sister.
+'I was so grieved!'
+
+'Yes,' said Constance, 'it sounds all very well to say Mysie was treated
+in the same way, but in the afternoon Mysie was allowed to go and make
+messes with blackberry jam, while poor Dolly was kept shut up in the
+schoolroom!'
+
+Constance did not like Lady Merrifield, who had unconsciously snubbed
+some of her affectations, and nipped in the bud a flirtation with Harry,
+besides calling off some of the curates to be helpful. But Miss Hacket
+admired her neighbour as much as her sister would permit, and made
+answer--
+
+'It is so hard to judge, my dear, without knowing all. Perhaps Mysie had
+finished her lessons.'
+
+'Ah! I know you always are for Lady Merrifield! But what do you say,
+then, to her prying into all that poor child's correspondence?'
+
+'My dear, I think most people do think it advisable to have some check
+on young girl's letters. Perhaps Dolores's father desired it.'
+
+'He never put on any restrictions,' said Constance. 'I am sure he
+never would. Men don't. It is always women, with their nasty, prying,
+tyrannous instincts.'
+
+'I am sure,' returned Mary, 'one would not think a child like Dolores
+Mohun could have anything to conceal.'
+
+'But she has!' cried Constance.
+
+'No, my dear! Impossible!' exclaimed Miss Hacket, looking very much
+shocked. 'Why, she can't be fourteen!'
+
+'Oh! it is nothing of that sort. Don't think about that, Mary.'
+
+'No, no, I know, Connie dear; you would never listen to any young girl's
+confidence of that kind--so improper and so vulgar,' said Miss Hacket,
+and Constance did not think it necessary to reveal her knowledge of the
+post-office under the cushions at church, and other little affairs of
+that sort.
+
+'It is her uncle,' said Constance. 'Her mother, it seems, though quite
+a lady, was the daughter of a professor, a very learned man, very
+distinguished, and all that, but not a high family enough to please
+the Mohuns, and they never were friendly with her, or treated her as an
+equal.'
+
+'That couldn't have been Lady Merrifield,' persevered Miss Hacket. 'She
+lamented to me herself that she had been out of England for so many
+years that she had scarcely seen Mrs. Maurice Mohun.'
+
+'Well, there were the Miss Mohuns and all the rest!' said Constance.
+'Why, Dolores has only once been at the family place. And her mother had
+a brother, an author and a journalist, a very clever man, and the Mohuns
+have always regularly persecuted him. He has been very unfortunate,
+and Mrs. Maurice Mohun has done her utmost to help him, writing in
+periodicals and giving the proceeds to him. Wasn't that sweet? And now
+Dolores feels quite cut off from him; and she is so fond of him, poor
+darling for her mother's sake.'
+
+Tender-hearted as Miss Hacket was, she had seen enough of life to have
+some inkling of what being very unfortunate might sometimes mean.
+
+'I should think,' she said, 'that Lady Merrifield would never withhold
+from the child any letter it was proper she should have, especially from
+a relation.'
+
+'Yes, but I tell you she did keep back a letter on the festival day till
+she had looked at it. Poor Dolores saw it come, and she saw a glance
+pass between her and Miss Mohun, and she is quite sure, she says, her
+Aunt Jane had been poisoning her mind about this poor persecuted uncle,
+and that she shall never be allowed to hear from him.'
+
+'I don't suppose there can be much for him to say to her,' said Miss
+Hacket. Then, after a little reflection, 'Connie, my dear, I really
+think you had better not interfere. There may be reasons that this poor
+child knows nothing about for keeping her aloof from this uncle.'
+
+'Oh! but her mother helped him.'
+
+'She was his sister. That was quite another thing. Indeed, Connie,' said
+Miss Hacket, more earnestly, 'I am quite sure that you will use your
+influence--and you have a great deal of influence, you know--most kindly
+by persuading this dear child to be happy with the Merrifields and
+submit to their arrangements.'
+
+'You are infatuated with Lady Merrifield,' muttered Constance. 'Ah! how
+little you know!'
+
+Here the first warning note of the bell ended the discussion, and
+Constance did not think it necessary to tell her sister of the offer
+she had made to Dolores. In her eyes, Mary, who was the eldest of the
+family, had always been of the dull, grown-up, authoritative faction of
+the elders, while she herself was still one of the sweet junior party,
+full of antagonism to them, and ready to elude them in any way. Besides,
+she had promised her darling Dolores; and the thing was quite romantic;
+nor could any one call it blame-worthy, since it was nothing like a
+lover--not even a young man, but only a persecuted uncle in distress.
+
+So she awaited anxiously the next Sunday when Dolores's letter was to
+be written in her room. To tell the truth, Dolores could quite as easily
+have written in her own, and brought down the letter in her pocket, if
+she had been eager about the matter; but she was not, except under the
+influence of making a grievance. She had never written to Uncle Alfred
+in her life, nor he to her; and his visits to her mother had always led
+to something uncomfortable. Nor would she have thought about the subject
+at all if it had not been for the sore sense that she was cut off from
+him, as she fancied, because he belonged to her mother.
+
+Nothing particular had happened that week. There had been no very
+striking offences one way or the other; she was working better with her
+lessons and understanding more of Miss Vincent's methods. She perceived
+that they were thorough, and respected them accordingly, and she had had
+the great satisfaction of getting more good marks for French and German
+than Mysie. She had become interested in 'The Old Oak Staircase,' and
+began to look forward to Aunt Lily's readings as the best part of the
+day. But she had not drawn in the least nearer to any of the family.
+She absolutely disliked, almost hated, the quarter of an hour which Aunt
+Lily devoted to her religious teaching every morning, though nobody was
+present, not even Primrose. She nearly refused to learn, and said as
+badly as possible the very small portions she was bidden to learn by
+heart, and she closed her mind up against taking in the sense of the
+very short readings and her aunt's comments on them. It seemed to her
+to be treating her like a Sunday-school child, and insulting her mother,
+who had never troubled her in this manner. Her aunt said no word of
+reproach, except to insist on attention and accuracy of repetition; but
+there came to be an unusual gravity and gentleness about her in these
+lessons, as if she were keeping a guard over herself, and often a
+greatly disappointed look, which exasperated Dolores much more than a
+scolding.
+
+Mysie had left off courting her cousin, finding that it only brought
+her rebuffs, and went her own way as before, pleased and honoured when
+Gillian would consort with her, but generally paring with her younger
+sister.
+
+Dolores, though hitherto ungracious, missed her attentions, and decided
+that they were 'all falseness.' Wilfred absolutely did tease and annoy
+her whenever he could, Fergus imitated him, and Valetta enjoyed and
+abetted him. These three had all been against her ever since the affair
+of the arrow; but Wilfred had not many opportunities of tormenting her,
+for in the house there was a perpetual quiet supervision and influence.
+Mrs. Halfpenny was sure to detect traps in the passage, or bounces at
+the door. Miss Vincent looked daggers if other people's lesson books
+were interfered with. Mamma had eyes all round, and nobody dared to
+tease or play tricks in her presence. Hal, Gillian, and even Mysie
+always thwarted such amiable acts as putting a dead wasp into a shoe,
+or snapping a book in the reader's face; while, as to venturing into
+the general family active games, Dolores would have felt it like rushing
+into a corobboree of savages!
+
+There was one wet afternoon when they could not even get as far as to
+the loft over the stables; at least the little ones could not have done
+so, and it was decided that it would be very cruel to them for all the
+others to run off, and leave them to Mrs. Halfpenny; so the plan was
+given up.
+
+Partly because Lady Merrifield thought it very amiable in Mysie and
+Valetta to make the sacrifice, and partly to disperse the thundercloud
+she saw gathering on Wilfred's brow, she not only consented to a
+magnificent and extraordinary game at wolves and bears all over the
+house, but even devoted herself to keeping Mrs. Halfpenny quiet by
+shutting herself into the nursery to look over all the wardrobes, and
+decide what was to 'go down' in the family, and what was to be given
+away, and what must be absolutely renewed. It was an operation that Mrs.
+Halfpenny enjoyed so much, that it warranted her to be deaf to shrieks
+and trampling, and almost to forget the chances of gathers and kilting
+being torn out, and trap-doors appearing in skirts and pinafores.
+
+All that time Dolores sat hunched up in her own room, reading 'Clare,
+or No Home,' and realizing the persecutions suffered by that afflicted
+child, who had just been nearly drowned in rescuing her wickedest
+cousin, and was being carried into her noble grandfather's house, there
+to be recognized by her golden hair being exactly the colour it was when
+she was a baby.
+
+There were horrible growlings at times outside her door, and she
+bolted it by way of precaution. Once there was a bounce against it, but
+Gillian's voice might be heard in the distance calling off the wolves.
+
+Then came a lull. The wolves and bears had rushed up and down stairs
+till they were quite exhausted and out of breath, especially as Primrose
+had always been a cub, and gone in the arms of Hal or Gillian; Fergus
+at last had rolled down three steps, and been caught by Wilfred, who,
+in his character of bear, hugged and mauled him till his screams grew
+violent. Harry had come to the rescue, and it was decided that there
+had been enough of this, and that there should be a grand exhibition of
+tableaux from the history of England in the dining-room, which of course
+mamma was to guess, with the assistance of any one who was not required
+to act.
+
+Mama, ever obliging, hastily condemned two or three sunburnt hats and
+ancient pairs of shoes, to be added to the bundle for Miss Hacket's
+distribution, and let herself be hauled off to act audience.
+
+'But where's Dolly?' she asked, as she looked at the assemblage on the
+stairs.
+
+'Bolted into her room, like a donkey,' said Wilfred, the last clause
+under his breath.
+
+'Indeed, mamma, we did ask her, and gave her the choice between wolves
+and bears,' said Mysie.
+
+'Unfortunately she is bear without choosing,' said Gill.
+
+'A sucking of her paws in a hollow tree,' chimed in Hal.
+
+'Hush! hush!' said Lady Merrifield, looking pained; 'perhaps the choice
+seemed very terrible to a poor only child like that. We, who had the
+luck to be one of many, don't know what wild cats you may all seem to
+her.'
+
+'She never will play at anything,' said Val.
+
+'She doesn't know how to,' said Mysie.
+
+'And won't be taught,' added Wilfred.
+
+'But that's very dreadful,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield. 'Fancy a poor
+child of thirteen not knowing how to play. I shall go and dig her out!'
+
+So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to which Dolores
+answered--
+
+'Can't you let me alone? Go away,' thinking it a treacherous ruse of the
+enemy to effect an entrance; but when her aunt said--
+
+'Is there anything the matter, my dear? Won't you let me in?' she was
+obliged to open it.
+
+'No, there's nothing the matter,' she allowed. 'Only I wanted them to
+let me alone.'
+
+'They have not been rude to you, I hope.'
+
+Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention the bouncing, so she
+allowed that no one had been rude to her, but she hated romping, which
+she managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt for suffering it.
+
+However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said--
+
+'Ah! you have not been used to wholesome exercise in large families. I
+dare say it seems formidable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale.
+I can't allow you to stay stuffed up there, poking over a book all the
+afternoon. It is very bad for you. We are going to have some historical
+tableaux. They are to have one set, and I thought perhaps you and I
+would get up some for them to guess in turn.'
+
+Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she did not quite dare to
+say she did not choose to make herself ridiculous, and she knew there
+was authority in the tone, so she followed and endured.
+
+So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before the bright grate in the
+dining-room, and having his ears beautifully boxed. Also Knut and the
+waves, which were graphically represented by letting the wind in under
+the drugget, and pulling it up gradually over his feet, but these, Mysie
+explained, were only for the little ones. Rollo and his substitute doing
+homage to Charles the Simple, were much more effective; as Gillian in
+that old military cloak of her father's, which had seen as much service
+in the play-room as in the field, stood and scowled at Wilfred in the
+crown and mamma's ermine mantle, being overthrown by Harry at his full
+height.
+
+The excitement was immense when it was announced that mamma had a
+tableau to represent with the help of Dolores, who was really warming
+a little to the interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike being
+dressed up with one of the boy's caps with three ostrich feathers, to
+accompany her aunt in hood and cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who had,
+together with the bow and papa's old regimental sword, been borrowed to
+personate the robber of Hexham. Everybody screamed with ecstasy except
+Fergus, who thought it very hard that he should not have been Prince
+Edward instead of a stupid girl.
+
+So, to content all parties, mama undertook to bring in as many as
+possible, and a series from the life of Elizabeth Woodville was
+accordingly arranged.
+
+She stood under the oak, represented by the hall chandelier, with Fergus
+and Primrose as her infant sons, and fascinated King Edward on
+the rocking-horse, which was much too vivant, for it reared as
+perpendicularly as it could, and then nearly descended on its nose, to
+mark the rider's feelings.
+
+Then, with her hair let down, which was stipulated for, though, as she
+observed, nothing would make it the right colour, she sat desolate on
+the hearth, surrounded by as many daughters as could be spared from
+being spectators, as her youngest son was born off from her maternal
+arms by a being as like a cardinal as a Galway cloak, disposed tippet
+fashion, could make him.
+
+She could not be spared to put up her hair again before she had to
+forget her maternal feelings and be mere audience, while her two sons
+were smothered by Mysie and Dolores, converted into murderers one
+and two by slouched hats. Fergus, a little afraid of being actually
+suffocated, began to struggle, setting off Wilfred, and the adventure
+was having a conclusion, which would have accounted for the authentic
+existence of Perkin Warbeck, when--oh horror! there was a peal at the
+door-bell, and before there was a moment for the general scurry,
+Herbert the button-boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted
+Mr. Leadbitter, to whom, as a late sixth standard boy, he had a special
+allegiance, and, having spied him coming, hurried to let him in out of
+the rain instantly.
+
+At least, such was the charitable interpretation. Harry strongly
+suspected that the imp had been a concealed spectator all the time, and
+had particularly relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which, after
+all, was much greater on the part of the Vicar than any one else, as
+he was a rather stiff, old-fashioned gentleman. Lady Merrifield only
+laughed, said she had been beguiled into wet day sports with the
+children, begged him to excuse her for a moment or two, and tripped
+away, followed by Gillian to help her, quickly reappearing in her lace
+cap as the graceful matron, even before Mr. Leadbitter had quite done
+blushing and quoting to Harry 'desipere in loco,' as he was assisted off
+with his dripping, shiny waterproof.
+
+After all no harm would have been done if--Harry and Gillian being
+both off guard--Valetta had not exclaimed most unreasonably in her
+disappointment--
+
+'I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores came in for it.'
+
+'Yes, Mr. Murderer, you squashed my little finger and all but smothered
+me,' cried Fergus, throwing himself on Dolores and dropping her down.
+
+'Don't! don't! you know you mustn't,' screamed valiant Mysie, flying to
+the rescue.
+
+'Murderers! Murderers must be done for,' shouted Wilfred, falling upon
+Mysie.
+
+'You shan't hurt my Mysie,' bellowed Valetta, hurling herself upon
+Wilfred.
+
+And there they were all in a heap, when Gillian, summoned by the
+shrieks, came down from helping her mother, pulled Valetta off Wilfred,
+Wilfred off Mysie, Mysie off Fergus, and Fergus off Dolores, who was
+discovered at the bottom with an angry, frightened face, and all her
+hair standing on end.
+
+'Are you hurt, Dolores? I am very sorry,' said Gillian. 'It was very
+naughty. Go up to the nursery, Fergus and Val, and be made fit to be
+seen.'
+
+They obeyed, crestfallen. Dolores felt herself all over. It would have
+been gratifying to have had some injury to complain of, but she had
+fallen on the prince's cushions, and there really was none. So she only
+said, 'No, I'm not hurt, though it is a wonder;' and off she walked
+to bolt herself into her own room again, there to brood on Valetta's
+speech.
+
+It worked up into a very telling and pathetic history for Constance's
+sympathizing ears on Sunday, especially as it turned out to be one of
+the things not reported to mamma.
+
+And on that day, Dolores, being reminded of it by her friend, sent a
+letter to Mr. Flinders to the office of the paper for which he worked in
+London, to tell him that if he wished to write to her as he had promised
+he must address under cover to Miss Constance Hacket, Casement Cottage,
+as otherwise Aunt Lilias would certainly read all his letters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. -- LETTERS
+
+
+
+Constance Hacket was very much excited about the address to Dolores's
+letter to her uncle. She had not noticed it at the moment that it was
+written, but she did when she posted it; and the next time she could get
+her young friend alone, she eagerly demanded what Mr. Flinders had to do
+with the Many Tongues, and why her niece wrote to him at the office.
+
+'He writes the criticisms,' said Dolores, magnificently; for though
+she despised pluming herself on any connection with a marquess, she
+did greatly esteem that with the world of letters. 'You know we are all
+literary.'
+
+'Oh yes, I know! But what kind of criticisms do you mean? I suppose it
+is a very clever paper?'
+
+'Of course it it,' said Dolores, 'but I don't think I ever saw it.
+Father never takes in society papers. I believe he does criticisms on
+plays and novels. I know he always has tickets for all the theatres and
+exhibitions.
+
+She did not say how she did know it, for a pang smote her as she
+remembered dimly a scene, when her father had forbidden her mother to
+avail herself of escort thus obtained. Nor was she sure that the word
+all was accurately the fact; but it was delightful to impress Constance,
+who cried, 'How perfectly delicious! I suppose he can get any article
+into his paper!'
+
+'Oh yes, of course,' said Dolores.
+
+'Did your dear mother write in it?'
+
+'No; it was not her line. She used to write metaphysical and scientific
+articles in the first-class reviews and magazines, and the Many Tongues
+is what they call a society paper, you know.'
+
+'Oh yes, I know. There are charming things about the Upper Ten Thousand.
+They tell all that is going on, but I hardly ever can see one. Mary
+won't take in anything about Church Bells, and we get the Guardian when
+it is a week old, and my brother James has done with it.'
+
+'Dear me! How dreadful!' said Dolores, who had been used to see all
+manner of papers come in as regularly as hot rolls. 'Why, you never can
+know anything! We didn't take in society papers, because father does not
+care for gossip or grandees. He has other pursuits. I can show you some
+of dear mother's articles. There's one called 'Unconscious Volition,'
+and another on the 'Progress of Species.' I'll bring them down next time
+I come.'
+
+'Have you read them?'
+
+'No; they are too difficult. Mother was so very clever, you know.'
+
+'She must have been,' said Constance, with a sigh; 'but how did she get
+them published?'
+
+'Sent them to the editor, of course,' said Dolores. 'They all knew her,
+and were glad to get anything that she wrote.'
+
+'Ah! that is what it is to have an introduction,' sighed Constance.
+
+'What! have you written anything?' cried Dolores.
+
+'Only a few little trifles,' said Constance, modestly. 'It is a great
+secret, you know, a dead secret.'
+
+'Oh! I'll keep it. I told you my secret, you know, so you might tell me
+yours.'
+
+And so to Dolores were confided sundry verses and tales on which
+Constance had been wont to spend a good deal of her time in that pretty
+sitting-room. She had actually sent her manuscripts to magazines, but
+she had heard no more of one, and the other had been returned declined
+with thanks--all for want of an introduction. Dolores was delighted to
+promise that as soon as she heard from Uncle Alfred, she would get him
+to patronize them, and the reading occupied several Sunday afternoons.
+Dolores suggested, however, that a goody-goody story about a choir-boy
+lost in the snow would never do for the Many Tongues, and a far more
+exciting one was taken up, called 'The Waif of the Moorland,' being the
+story of a maiden, whom a wicked step-mother was suspected of murdering,
+but who walked from time to time like the 'Woman in White.' There was
+only too much time for the romance; for weeks passed and there was no
+answer from Mr. Flinders. It was possible that he might have broken off
+his connection with the paper, only then the letter would probably have
+been returned; and the other alternative was less agreeable, that it
+was not worth his while to write to his niece. While as to Maude Sefton,
+nothing was heard of her. Were her letters intercepted? And so the
+winter side of autumn set in. Hal was gone to Oxford, and there had
+been time for letters to come from Mr. Mohun, posted from Auckland,
+New Zealand, where he had made a halt with his sister, Mrs. Harry May,
+otherwise Aunt Phyllis. Dolores was very much pleased to receive her
+letter, and to have it all to herself; but, after all, she was somewhat
+disappointed in it, for there was really nothing in it that might not
+have been proclaimed round the breakfast-table, like the public letters
+from that quarter of the family who were at Rawul Pindee. It told of
+deep-sea soundings and investigations into the creatures at the bottom
+of the sea, of Portuguese men-of-war, and albatrosses; and there were
+some orders to scientific-instrument makers for her to send to them--a
+very improving letter, but a good deal like a book of travels. Only at
+the end did the writer say, 'I hope my little daughter is happy among
+her cousins, and takes care to give her aunt no trouble, and to profit
+by her kind care. Your three cousins here, Mary, Lily, and Maggie, are
+exceedingly nice girls, and much interested about you; indeed, they wish
+I had brought you with me.'
+
+Dolores read her letter over and over and over, for the pleasure of
+having something all to herself, and never communicated a word about the
+miscroscopic monsters her father had described, but she drew her head
+back and reflected, 'He little knows,' when he spoke of her being happy
+among her cousins.
+
+Lady Merrifield likewise received a letter, about which she did not say
+much to her children, but Miss Mohun, who had had a much longer one,
+came over for the day to read this to her sister. In point of fact,
+she had paired in childhood with her brother Maurice. She had been
+his correspondent in school and college days, and being a person never
+easily rebuffed, she had kept up more intercourse with him and his wife
+than any others of the family had done, and he had preserved the habit
+of writing to her much more freely and unreservedly than to any one
+else. So the day after the New Zealand letters came, just as the
+historical reading and needlework were in full force, the schoolroom
+door was opened, and a brisk little figure stood there in sealskin coat
+and hat.
+
+Up jumped mamma. 'Oh! Jenny! Brownie indeed! How did you come? You
+didn't walk from the station?'
+
+'Yes, why not? Otherwise I should have been too soon, and have disturbed
+the lessons,' said Aunt Jane, in the intervals of the greeting kisses.
+'All well with the Indian folks?'
+
+'Oh yes; they've come back from the emerald valleys of Cashmere, and
+Alethea has actually sent me a primrose--just like an English one--that
+they found growing there. They did enjoy it so. Have you heard from
+Maurice?'
+
+'Yes, I thought you would like to hear about Phyllis, so, having enjoyed
+it with Ada, I brought it over for further enjoyment with you.'
+
+'That's a dear old Brownie! We've a good hour before dinner. Shall we
+read it to the general public, or shall we adjourn to the drawing-room?'
+
+"Oh! I assure you it is very instructive. Quite as much so as Miss
+Sewell's 'Rome.'"
+
+And Aunt Jane, whom Gillian had aided in disrobing herself of her
+outdoor garments, was installed by the fire, and unfolded a whole volume
+of thin, mauve sheets in Mr. Mohun's tiny Greek-looking handwriting.
+
+It was a sort of journal of his voyage. There were all the same accounts
+of the minute creatures that are incipient chalk, and their exquisite
+cells, made, some of coral, some of silex spicule from sponges; the
+some descriptions of phosphorescent animals, meduse, and the like, that
+Dolores had thought her own special treasure and privilege, only a great
+deal fuller, and with the scientific terms untranslated--indeed, Aunt
+Jane had now and then to stop and explain, since she had always kept up
+with the course of modern discovery. There was also much more about his
+shipmates, with one or two of whom Mr. Mohun had evidently made
+great friends. He told his sister a great deal about them, and his
+conversations with them, whereas he had only told Dolores abut one
+little midshipman getting into a scrape. Perhaps nothing else was to be
+expected, but it made her feel the contrast between being treated with
+real confidence and as a mere child, and it seemed to put her father
+further away from her than ever.
+
+Then came the conclusion, written on shore--
+
+'Harry May came on board to take me home with him. He is a fine, genial
+fellow and his welcome did one's heart good. I never did him justice
+before; but I see his good sense and superiority called into play out
+here. Depend upon it, there's nothing like going to the other end of the
+world to teach the value of home ties.'
+
+'Well done, Maurice,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield; but she glanced at
+Dolores and checked herself.
+
+Miss Mohun went on, 'Phyllis met me at the door of a pleasant,
+English-looking house, with all her tribe about her. She has the true
+'honest Phyl' face still, carrying me back over some thirty or forty
+years of life, and as you would imagine, she is a capital mother, with
+all her flock well in hand, and making themselves thoroughly useful
+in the scarcity of servants; though the other matters do not seem
+neglected. The eldest can talk like a well informed girl, and shows
+reasonable interest in things in general; but Phyllis wants to put
+finishing touches to their education, and her husband talks of throwing
+up his appointment before long, as he is anxious to go home while his
+father lives. I wish I had gone to Stoneborough before coming out here,
+now that I see what a gratification it would have been if I could have
+brought a fresh report of old Dr. May. (Somehow, I think there has
+been a numbness or obtuseness about me all these last two years which
+hindered me from perceiving or doing much that I now regret, since
+either the change or the wholesome atmosphere of this house has wakened
+me as it were. Among these ungracious omissions is what I now am much
+concerned to think of, that I never went to see Lilias when I committed
+my child to her charge; nor talked over her disposition. Not that I
+really understand it as I ought to have done when the poor child was
+left to me. I take shame to myself when Phyllis questions me about her),
+but as I watch these children with their parents I am quite convinced
+that the being taken under Lily's motherly wing is by far the best thing
+that could have befallen Dolores, and that my absence is for her real
+benefit as well as mine.'
+
+The part between brackets was omitted by Miss Mohun in the public
+reading, but the last sentence she did read, thinking it good for both
+parties to hear it. However, Dolores both disliked the conclusion to
+which her father had come, and still more that her aunt and cousins
+should hear it, though, after all, it was only Gillian and Mysie who
+remained to listen by the time the end of the letter was reached. The
+long words had frightened away Valetta as soon as her appointed task of
+work was finished.
+
+Aunt Lily did not see the omitted sentence till the two sisters were
+alone together later in the afternoon. It filled her eyes with tears.
+'Poor Maurice,' she said; 'he wrote something of the same kind to me.'
+
+'I expect we shall see him wonderfully shaken up and brightened when he
+comes home. The numbness he talks of was half of it Mary's dislike to us
+all, only I never would let her keep me aloof from him.'
+
+'I almost wish he had taken Dolores out to Phyllis. I am not in the
+least fulfilling his ideal towards her.'
+
+'Nor would Phyllis, unless the voyage had had as much effect on her as
+it seems to have had upon Maurice. So you don't get on any better?'
+
+'Not a bit. It is a case of parallel lines. We don't often have
+collisions--unless Wilfred gets an opportunity of provoking her.'
+
+'Why don't you send that boy to school?'
+
+'I shall after Christmas. He is quite well now, and to have him at home
+is bad both for himself and the others. He needs licking into shape
+as only boys can do to one another, and he is not a model for Fergus,
+especially since Harry has been away.'
+
+'What does he do?'
+
+'Nothing very brilliant, nor of the kind one half forgives for the
+drollery of it. Putting mustard into the custard was the worst, I think;
+inciting the dogs to bring the cattle down on the girls when they cross
+the paddock; shutting up their books when the places are found--those
+are the sort of things; putting that very life-like wild cat
+chauffe-pied with glaring eyes in Dolly's bed. I believe he does such
+things to all, but his sisters would let him torture them rather than
+complain, whereas Dolores does her best to bring them under my notice
+without actually laying an information, which she is evidently afraid to
+do. It is very unlucky that her coming should have been just when we
+had such an element about--for it really gives her some just cause of
+complaint.'
+
+'But you say he is impartial?'
+
+'Teasing is unfortunately his delight. He will even frighten Primrose,
+but I am afraid there is active dislike making Dolores his favourite
+victim; and then Val and Fergus, who don't tease actively on their own
+account, have come to enjoy her discomfiture.'
+
+"And you go on the principle of 'tolerer beaucoup?'"
+
+'I do; hoping that it is not laziness and weakness that makes me abstain
+from nagging about what is not brought before my eyes by the children or
+the police--I mean Gill, Halfpenny, and Miss Vincent. Then I scold, or
+I punish, and that I think maintains the principle, without danger to
+truth or forbearance. At least, I hope it does. I am pretty sure that
+if I punished Wilfred for every teasing trick I know, or guess at, he
+would--in his present mood--only become deceitful, and esprit de corps
+might make Val and Fergus the same, though I don't think Mysie's truth
+could be shaken any more than honest Phyl's.'
+
+'Besides, mutual discipline is not a thing to upset. Lily, I revere you!
+I never thought you were going to turn out such a sensible mother.'
+
+'Well, you see, the difficulty is, that what may work for one's
+own children may not work for other people's. And I confess I don't
+understand her persistent repulse of Mysie.'
+
+'Nor of you, the nasty little cat!' said Aunt Jane, with a little fierce
+shake of the head.
+
+'I do understand that a little. I am too unlike Mary for her to stand
+being mothered by me.'
+
+'There must be some other influence at work for this perverseness to
+keep on so long. Tell me, did she take up with that very goosey girl,
+that Miss Hacket?'
+
+'Oh yes; she goes there every Sunday afternoon. It is the only thing the
+poor child seem much to care about, and I don't think there can be any
+harm in it.'
+
+'Humph! the folly of girl is unfathomable! Oh! you may say what you
+like--you who have thrown yourself into your daughters and kept them
+one with you. You little know in your innocence the product of an
+ill-managed boarding-school!'
+
+'Nay,' said Lady Merrifield, a little hotly, 'I do know that Miss Hacket
+is one of the most excellent people in the world, a little tiresome and
+borne, perhaps, but thoroughly good, and every inch a lady.'
+
+'Granted, but that's not the other one--Constance is her name? My dear,
+I saw her goings on at the G.F.S. affair--If she had only been a member,
+wouldn't I have been at her.'
+
+'My dear Jenny, you always had more eyes to your share than other
+people.'
+
+'And you think that being an old maid has not lessened their sharpness,
+eh! Lily? Well, I can't help it, but my notion is that the sweet
+Constance--whatever her sister may be--is the boarding-school miss a
+little further developed into sentiment and flirtation.'
+
+'Nay, but that would be so utterly uncongenial to a grave, reserved,
+intellectual girl, brought up as Dolores has been.'
+
+'Don't trust to that! Dolores is an interesting orphan, and the notice
+of a grown-up young lady is so flattering that it carries off a great
+deal of folly.'
+
+'Well, Jenny, I must think about it. I hope I have done no harm by
+allowing the friendship--the only indulgence she has seemed to wish
+for; and I am afraid checking it would only alienate he still more! Poor
+Maurice, when he is trusting and hoping in vain!'
+
+'Three year is a long time, Lily; and you have no had three months of
+her yet--'
+
+The door opened at that moment for the afternoon tea, which was earlier
+than usual, to follow of Miss Mohun's reaching the station in time for
+her train. Lady Merrifield was to drive her, and it was the turn of
+Dolores to go out, so that she shared the refection instead of waiting
+for gouter. In the midst the Miss Hackets were announced, and there were
+exclamations of great joy at the sight of Miss Mohun; as she and Miss
+Hacket flew upon each other, and to the very last moment, discussed the
+all-engrossing subject of G.F.S. politics.
+
+Nevertheless, while Miss Mohun was hurrying on her sealskin in her
+sister's room, she found an opportunity of saying, 'Take care, Lily, I
+saw a note pass between those two.'
+
+'My dear Jenny, how could you? You were going on the whole time about
+cards and premiums and associates. Oh! yes, I know a peacock or a lynx
+is nothing to you, but how was it possible? Why, I was making talk to
+Constance all along, and trying to make Dolly speak of her father's
+letter.'
+
+'I might retort by talking of moles and bats! Did you never hear of
+the London clergyman whose silver cream-jug, full of cream too, was
+abstracted by the penitent Sunday school boy whom he was exhorting over
+his breakfast-table?'
+
+'I don't believe London curates have silver jugs or cream either!'
+
+'A relic of past wealth, like St. Gregory's one silver dish, and perhaps
+it was milk. Well, to descend to particulars. It was done with a meaning
+glance, as Dolores was helping her on with her cloud, and was instantly
+disposed of in the pocket.'
+
+'I wonder what I ought to do about it,' sighed Lady Merrifield, 'If I
+had seen it myself I should have no doubts. Oh! if Jasper were but here!
+And yet it is hardly a thing to worry him about. It is most likely to be
+quite innocent.'
+
+'Well, then you can speak of the appearance of secrecy as bad manners.
+You will have her all to yourself as you go home.'
+
+But when the aunts came downstairs, Dolores was not there. On being
+called, she sent a voice down, over the balusters, that she was not
+going.
+
+Aunt Jane shrugged her shoulders. There was barely time to reach the
+train, so that it was impossible to do anything at the moment; but in
+the Merrifield family bad manners and disrespect were never passed over,
+Sir Jasper having made his wife very particular in that respect; and as
+soon as she came home in the twilight, she looked into the school-room,
+but Dolores was not there, and then into the drawing-room, where she was
+found learning her lessons by firelight.
+
+'My dear, why did you not go with your Aunt Jane and me?'
+
+'I did not want to go. It was so cold,' said Dolores in a glum tone.
+
+'Would it not have been kinder to have found that out sooner? If I had
+not met the others in the paddock, and picked up Valetta, the chance
+would have been missed, and you knew she wanted to go.'
+
+Dolores knew it well enough. The reason she was in this room was that
+all the returning party had fallen upon her; Wilfred had called her a
+dog in the manger, and Gillian herself had not gainsayed him--but the
+general indignation had only made her feel, 'what a fuss about the
+darling.'
+
+'Another time, too,' added Lady Merrifield, 'remember that it would
+be proper to come down and speak to me instead of shouting over the
+balusters in that unmannerly way; without so much as taking leave of
+your Aunt Jane. If she had not been almost late for her train, I should
+have insisted.'
+
+'You might, and I should not have come if you had dragged me,' thought,
+but did not say, Dolores. She only stood looking dogged, and not
+attempting the 'I beg your pardon,' for which her aunt was waiting.
+
+'I think,' said Lady Merrifield, gently, 'that when you consider it a
+little, you will see that it would be well to be more considerate and
+gracious. And one thing more, my dear, I can have no passing of private
+notes between you and Constance Hacket. You see a good deal of each
+other openly, and such doings are very silly and missish, and have an
+underhand appearance such as I am sure your father would not like.'
+
+Dolores burst out with, 'I didn't,' and as Primrose at this instant ran
+in to help mamma take off her things, she turned on her heel and went
+away, leaving Lady Merrifield trusting to a word never hitherto in that
+house proved to be false, rather than to those glances of Aunt Jane,
+which had been always held in the Mohun family to be a little too
+discerning and ubiquitous to be always relied on; and it was a
+satisfactory recollection that at the farewell moment when Miss Jane
+professed to have observed the transaction, she had been heard saying,
+'Yes, it will never do to be too slack in inquiring into antecedents, or
+the whole character of the society will be given up,' and with her black
+eyes fixed full upon Miss Hacket's face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. -- THE EVENING STAR
+
+
+
+'Oh, Connie dear, I had such a fright! Do you know you must never
+venture to give me anything when any one is there--especially Aunt Jane.
+I am sure it was her, she is always spying about?'
+
+'Well, but dearest Dolly, I couldn't tell that she would be there, and
+when I got your letter I could not keep it back, you know, so I made
+Mary come up and call on Lady Merrifield for the chance of being able to
+give it to you--and I thought it was so lucky Miss Mohun was there, for
+she and Mary were quite swallowed up in their dear G.F.S.'
+
+'You don't know Aunt Jane! And the worst of it is she always makes Aunt
+Lilias twice as cross! I did get into such a row only because I didn't
+want to go driving with the two old aunts in the dark and cold, and be
+scolded all the way there and back.'
+
+'When you had a letter to read too!'
+
+'And then Aunt Lily said all manner of cross things about giving notes
+between us. I was so glad I could say I didn't, for you know I didn't
+give it to you, and it wasn't between us.'
+
+'You cunning child!' laughed Constance, rather amused at the sophistry.
+
+'Besides,' argued Dolores, 'what right has she to interfere between my
+uncle and my friends and me?
+
+'You dear! Yes, it is all jealousy!'
+
+'I have heard--or I have read,' said Dolores, 'that when people ask
+questions they have no right to put, it is quite fair to give them a
+denial, or at least to go as near the wind as one can.'
+
+'To be sure,' assented Constance, 'or one would not get on at all! But
+you have no told me a word about your letters.'
+
+'Father's letter? Oh, he tells me a great deal about his voyage, and all
+the funny creatures they get up with the dredge. I think he will be sure
+to write a book about them, and make great discoveries. And now he
+is staying with Aunt Phyllis in New Zealand, and he is thinking, poor
+father, how well off I must be with Aunt Lilias. He little knows!'
+
+'Oh, but you could write to him, dearest!'
+
+'He wouldn't get the letter for so long. Besides, I don't think I could
+say anything he would care about. Gentlemen don't, you know.'
+
+'No! gentlemen can't enter into our feelings, or know what it is to be
+rubbed against and never appreciated. But your uncle! Was the letter
+from him?'
+
+'Oh yes! And where do you think he is? At Darminster--editing a paper
+there. It is called the Darminster Politician. He said he sent a copy
+here.'
+
+"Oh yes, I know; Mary and I could not think where it came from. It had a
+piece of a story in it, and some poetry. I wonder if he would put in my
+'Evening Star.'"
+
+'You may read his letter if you like; you see he says he would run over
+to see me if it were not for the dragons.'
+
+'I wish he could come and meet you here. It would be so romantic, but
+you see Mary is half a dragon herself, and would be afraid of Lady
+Merrifield'--then, reading the letter,--'How droll! How clever! What a
+delightful man he must be! How very strange that all your family should
+be so prejudiced against him! I'll tell you what, Dolores, I will write
+and subscribe for the Darminster Politician my own self--I must see
+the rest of that story--and then Mary can't make any objection; I can't
+stand never seeing anything but Church Bells, and then you can read it
+too, darling.'
+
+'Oh, thank you, Connie. Then I shall have got him one subscriber, as
+he asks me to do. I am afraid I shan't get any more, for I thought
+Aunt Lily was in a good humour yesterday, and I put one of the little
+advertisement papers he sent out on the table, and she found it, and
+only said something about wondering who had sent the advertisement of
+that paper that Mr. Leadbitter didn't approve of. She is so dreadfully
+fussy and particular. She won't let even Gillian read anything she
+hasn't looked over, and she doesn't like anything that isn't goody
+goody.'
+
+'My poor darling! But couldn't you write and get your uncle to look at
+some of my poor little verses that have never seen the light?'
+
+'I dare say I could,' said Dolores, pleased to be able to patronize.
+'Oh, but you must not write on both sides of the paper, I know, for
+father and mother were always writing for the press.'
+
+'Oh, I'll copy them out fresh! Here's the 'Evening Star.' It was
+suggested by the sound of the guns firing at the autumn manoevres;
+here's the 'Bereaved Mother's Address to her Infant:'
+
+
+                'Sweet little bud of stainless white,
+                 Thou'lt blossom in the garden of light.'
+
+
+'Mary thought that so sweet she asked Miss Mohun to send it to Friendly
+Leaves, but she wouldn't--Miss Mohun I mean; she said she didn't think
+they would accept it, and that the lines didn't scan. Now I'm sure its
+only Latin and Greek that scan! English rhymes, and doesn't scan! That's
+the difference!'
+
+'To be sure!' said Dolores, 'but Aunt Jane always does look out for what
+nobody else cares about. Still I wouldn't send the baby-verses to Uncle
+Alfred, for they do sound a little bit goody, and the 'Evening Star'
+would be better.'
+
+The verses were turned over and discussed until the summons came to tea,
+poured out by kind old Miss Hacket, who had delighted in providing her
+young guests with buttered toast and tea cakes.
+
+Dolores went home quite exhilarated and unusually amiable.
+
+Her letter to her father was finished the next day. It contained the
+following information.
+
+'Uncle Alfred is at Darminster. He is sub-editor to the Politician, the
+Liberal county paper. I do not suppose Aunt Lilias will let me see him,
+for she does not like anything that dear mother did. There is a childish
+obsolete tone of mind here; I suppose it is because they have never
+lived in London, and the children are all so young of their age, and so
+rude, Wilfred most especially. Even Gillian, who is sixteen, likes quite
+childish games, and Mysie, who is my age, is a mere child in tastes, and
+no companion. I do wish I could have gone with you.'
+
+Lady Merrifield wrote by the same mail, 'Your Dolores is quite well, and
+shows herself both clever and well taught. Miss Vincent thinks highly of
+her abilities, and gets on with her better than any one else, except
+the daughter of our late Vicar, for whom she has set up a strong girlish
+friendship. She plainly has very deep affections, which are not readily
+transferred to new claimants, but I feel sure that we shall get on in
+time.'
+
+Miss Mohun wrote, 'Lily and I enjoyed your letter together. Dolly looks
+all the better for country life, though I am afraid she has not learnt
+to relish it, nor to assimilate with the Merrifield children as I
+expected. I don't think Lily has quite fathomed her as yet, but 'cela
+viendra' with patience, only mayhap not without a previous explosion. I
+fancy it takes a long time for an only child to settle in among a large
+family. It was a great pity you could not see Lily yourself. To my
+dismay I encountered Flinders in the street at Darminster last week. I
+believe he is on the staff of a paper there, happily Dolly does not know
+it, nor do I think he knows where she is.'
+
+In another three weeks, Constance was in the utmost elation, for 'On
+hearing the cannonade of the Autumn Manoeuvres' was in print, and Miss
+Hacket was so much delighted that justice should be done to her sister's
+abilities, that she forgot Mr. Leadbitter's disapproval, and ordered
+half a dozen copies of the Politician for the present, and one for the
+future.
+
+Dolores, walking home in the twilight, could not help showing Gillian,
+in confidence, the precious slip, though it was almost too dark to read
+the small type.
+
+'Newspaper poetry, I thought that always was trumpery,' said Gillian,
+making a youthfully sweeping assertion.
+
+'Many great poets have begun with a periodical press,' said Dolores,
+picking up a sentence which she had somewhere read.
+
+'I thought you hated English poetry, Dolly! You always grumble at having
+to learn it.'
+
+'Oh, that is lessons.'
+
+"'Il Penseroso,' for instance."
+
+'This is a very different thing.'
+
+'That it certainly is,' said Gillian, beginning to read--
+
+
+              'How lovely mounts the evening star
+               Climbing the sunset skies afar.'
+
+
+'What a wonderful evening! Why, the evening star was going up backward!'
+
+'You only want to make nonsense of it.'
+
+'It is not I that make nonsense!' said Gillian, 'why, don't you see,
+Dolly, which way the sun and everything moves?'
+
+'This is the evening star,' said Dolores, sulkily. 'It was just rising.'
+
+'I do believe you think it rises in the west.'
+
+'You always see it there. You showed it to me only last Sunday.'
+
+'Do you think it had just risen?'
+
+'Of course the stars rise when the sun sets.'
+
+Gillian could hardly move for laughing. 'My dear Dolores, you to be
+daughter to a scientific man! Don't you know that the stars are in the
+sky, going on all the time, only we can't see them till the sunlight is
+gone?'
+
+But Dolores was too much offended to attend, and only grunted. She
+wanted to get the cutting away from Gillian, but there was no doing so.
+
+
+              'The mist is rising o'er the mead,
+               With silver hiding grass and reed;
+               'Tis silent all, on hill and heath,
+               The evening winds, they hardly breathe;
+               What sudden breaks the silent charm,
+               The echo wakes with wild alarm.
+               With rapid, loud, and furious rattle,
+               Sure 'tis the voice of deadly battle,
+               Bidding the rustic swain to fly
+               Before his country's enemy.'
+
+
+'Did anybody ever hear of a sham fight in the evening?' cried the
+soldier's daughter indignantly. 'There, I can't see any more of it.'
+
+'Give it to me, then.'
+
+'You are welcome! Where did it come from? Let me look. C.H. Oh, did
+Constance Hacket write it? Nobody else could be so delicious, or so far
+superior to Milton.'
+
+'You knew it all the time, and that was the reason you made game of it.'
+
+'No, indeed it was not, Dolores. I did not guess. You should have told
+me at first.'
+
+'You would have gone on about it all the same.'
+
+'No, indeed, I hope not. I did not mean to vex you; but how was I to
+know it was so near your heart?'
+
+'I ought to have known better than to have shown it to you! You are
+always laughing at her and me all over the house--and now--'
+
+'Come, Dolly. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I will promise not to
+tell the others about it.'
+
+No answer. There was something hard and swelling in Dolores's throat.
+
+'Won't that do?' said Gillian. 'You know I can't say that I admire it,
+but I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'll take care the others don't tease you
+about it.'
+
+Dolores made hardly any answer, but it was a sort of pacification, and
+Gillian said not a word to the younger ones. Still she thought it no
+breach of her promise, when they were all gone to bed, and she the sole
+survivor, to tell her mother how inadvertently she had affronted Dolores
+by cutting up the verses, before she knew whose they were.
+
+'I am sorry,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Anything that tends to keep Dolores
+aloof from us is a pity.'
+
+'But, mama, I had no notion whose they were.'
+
+'You saw that she was pleased with them.'
+
+'Yes, but that was the more ridiculous. Fancy the evening star climbing
+up--up--you know in the sunset!'
+
+'Portentous, certainly! Yet still I wish you could have found it in your
+heart to take advantage of any feeler towards sympathy.'
+
+'How could I pretend to admire such stuff?'
+
+'You need not pretend; but there are two ways of taking hold of a thing
+without being untrue. If you had been a little wiser and more forbearing
+you need not have given Dolores such a shock as would drive her in upon
+herself. Depend upon it, the older you grow, the more dangerous you will
+find it to begin by hitting the blots.'
+
+Gillian looked on in some curiosity when the next day good Miss Hacket,
+enchanted with her dear Connie's success, trotted up to display the
+lines to Lady Merrifield, who on her side felt bound to set an example
+alike of tenderness and sincerity, and was glad to be able to observe,
+'The lines run very smoothly. This must be a great pleasure to her.'
+
+'Indeed it is! Connie is so clever. I always say I can't think where she
+got it from; but we always tried to give her very advantage, and she was
+quite a favourite pupil at Miss Dormer's. Is not it a sweet idea, the
+stillness of the evening broken by the sounds of battle, and then it
+proving to be only our brave defenders?'
+
+'Yes,' was the answer. 'I have often thought of that, and of what it
+might be to hear those volleys of musketry in earnest. It has made me
+very thankful.'
+
+So Miss Hacket went away gratified, and Gillian owned that it would have
+been useless to wound the good lady's feelings by criticism, though her
+mother made her understand that if her opinion had been asked, or Connie
+herself had shown the verses, it would have been desirable to point
+out the faults, in a kindly spirit. The wonder was, how they could have
+found their way into the paper, and they were followed by more with the
+like signature.
+
+Indeed, the great sensational tale, 'The Waif of the Moorland,' was
+being copied out of the books where it had been first written. Dolores
+had sounded Mr. Flinders on the subject, and he had replied that he
+could ensure its consideration by a publisher, but that her fair friend
+must be aware that an untried author must be prepared for some risk.
+
+Constance could hardly abstain from communicating her hopes to her
+sister; but Mr. Leadbitter--to whom the poetry was duly shown--had given
+such a character of the Darminster Politician that Miss Hacket besought
+Constance to have no more to do with it. Besides, she was so entirely a
+lady, and so conscientious, that all her tender blindness would not
+have prevented her from being shocked at encouraging, or profiting by, a
+surreptitious correspondence.
+
+Constance declared that Mr. Leadbitter's objection to the paper was
+merely political, and her sister was too willing that she should be
+gratified to protest any further. The copying had to be done in secret,
+since it was impossible to confess the hopes founded on Mr. Flinders,
+and it therefore lasted several weeks, each fresh portion being
+communicated to Dolores on Sunday afternoons. There were at first a
+few scruples on Constance's part whether this were exactly a Sunday
+occupation; but Dolores pronounced that 'the Sabbatarian system was
+gone out,' and after Constance had introduced the ghostly double of her
+vanished waif walking in a surpliced procession, she persuaded herself
+that there was a sufficient aroma of religion about the story to bring
+it within the pale of Sunday books.
+
+The days were shortening so that Lady Merrifield had doubts as to the
+fitness of letting the girls return in the dark, but Gillian would have
+been grieved to relinquish her class, and the matter was adjusted by the
+two remaining till evensong, when there was sure to be sufficient escort
+for them to come home with.
+
+Therewith arrived the holidays and Jasper, whose age came between those
+of Gillian and Mysie. Dolores had looked forward to his coming, for, by
+all the laws of fiction, he was bound to be the champion of the orphan
+niece, and finally to develop into her lover and hero. In 'No Home,'
+when Clare's aunt locked her up and fed her on bread and water for
+playing the piano better than her spiteful cousin Augusta, Eric, the boy
+of the family, had solaced her with cold pie and ice-creams drawn up
+in a basket by a cord from the window. He had likewise forced from his
+cruel mother the locket which proved Clare's identity with the mourning
+countess's golden-haired grandchild and heiress, and he had finally been
+rewarded with her hand, becoming in some mysterious manner Lord Eric.
+
+Jasper, however, or Japs, as his family preferred to call him, proved
+to be a big, shy boy, not at all delighted with the introduction of a
+stranger among his sisters, neither golden-haired nor all-accomplished,
+only making him feel his home invaded, and looking at him with her great
+eyes.
+
+'Is that girl here for good?' he asked, when he found himself with Harry
+and Gillian.
+
+'Yes, of course,' said the cousin, 'while her father is away, and that
+is for three years.'
+
+Jasper whistled.
+
+'Aunt Ada said,' added Gillian, 'that if she got too tiresome, mamma had
+Uncle Maurice's leave to send her to school.'
+
+'That would be no good to me,' said Jasper, 'for she would still be here
+in the holidays.'
+
+'Has she been getting worse?' asked Harry.
+
+'No, I don't know that she has,' said Gillian, 'except that she runs
+after that Constance more than ever. But, I say, Jasper, mamma says she
+is particularly anxious that there should be no teasing of her; and you
+can hinder Wilfred better than anybody can. She wants her to be really
+at home, and one--'
+
+But though Jasper was very fond both of mother and sister, he would not
+stand a second-hand lecture, and broke in with an inquiry about chances
+of rabbit-shooting.
+
+Among his juniors he heard more opinions and more undisguised, when the
+whole party had rushed out together to the stable-yard to inspect the
+rabbits and other live-stock.
+
+'And Dolly says you are a fright,' sighed Mysie, condoling with a very
+awkward-looking puppy which she was nursing.
+
+'She! she thinks everything a fright!' said Valetta.
+
+'Except Constance,' added Wilfred.
+
+'Who is ugliest of all!' politely chimed in Fergus.
+
+'Oh, Japs, she is such a nasty girl--Dolly, I mean!' cried Valetta.
+
+"You know you ought not to say 'nasty,'" exclaimed Mysie.
+
+'Well, but she is!' insisted Val. 'She squashed a dear little ladybird,
+and said it would sting!'
+
+'She really thought it would,' said Mysie.
+
+At which the young barbarians shouted aloud with contempt, and Valetta
+added. 'She is afraid of everything--cows and dogs and frogs.'
+
+'I got a whole match-box full of grasshoppers to shut up in her desk
+and make her squall,' said Wilfred, 'only the girls went and turned them
+out.'
+
+'It was so cruel to the poor grasshoppers,' said Mysie. 'One had his
+horn broken, and dragged his leg.'
+
+'What does she do?' asked Jasper.
+
+'She's always cross,' said Fergus.
+
+'And she won't play,' added Valetta. 'And never will lend us anything of
+hers.'
+
+'And she's a regular sneak,' said Wilfred. 'She wants to tell of
+everything--only we stopped that and she doesn't dare now.'
+
+'You see,' said Mysie, gravely, 'she has always lived alone and in
+London, and that makes her horribly stupid about everything sensible. We
+thought we should soon teach her to be nice; and mamma says we shall if
+we are patient.'
+
+'We'll teach her, won't we, Japs!' said Wilfred, aside, in an ominous
+voice.
+
+'She is only thirteen,' added Valetta, 'and she pretends to be grown up,
+and only to care for a grown-up young lady--that Constance Hacket.'
+
+'Yes,' added Mysie, 'only think--they write poetry!'
+
+'What rot it must be!' said Jasper. 'There's a man in my house that
+writes poetry, and don't they chaff him! And this must be ever so much
+worse.'
+
+'Oh, that it is,' said Valetta. 'I heard Mr. Poulter and Miss Vincent
+laughing about it like anything.'
+
+'But they get it put into print,' said Mysie, still impressed. 'Miss
+Hacket brought it up to give to mamma, and there's ever so much of it
+shut up in the drawing-room blotting-book with the malachite knobs. I
+can't think why they laugh--I think it is very pretty. Old Miss Hacket
+read me the one about "My Lost Dove."'
+
+'Mysie always will stick up for Dolores,' said Valetta in a grumbling
+voice.
+
+'I always meant her to be my friend,' said Mysie, disconsolately.
+
+'Well, I'm glad she's not,' said Jasper. 'What a sell it would have
+been for me to find you chummy with a stupid, poetry-writing,
+good-for-nothing girl like that, instead of my jolly old Mice!'
+
+And at that minute all Dolly's slights were fully compensated for!
+
+There was a lurking purpose in the boys' minds that if Dolores would
+not join in fun, yet still fun should be extracted from her. Jasper
+had brought home a box of Japanese fireworks, and Wilfred, who was
+superintending his unpacking, proposed to light the serpent and place it
+in Dolores's path as she was going up to bed; but Jasper was old enough
+to reply that he would have no concern with anything so low and snobbish
+as such a trick. In fact, there was in Jasper's mind a decided line
+between bullying and teasing, which did not exist as yet in Wilfred's
+conscience. And, altogether, Dolores was in a state of mind that made
+her stiff letters to her father betray low spirits and discontent.
+
+On Sunday, while waiting for the early dinner, Jasper and Mysie happened
+to be together in the drawing-room, and Mysie took the opportunity of
+showing her brother the different cuttings of poetry. The lines were
+smooth, and some had a certain swing in them such as Mysie, with an
+unformed taste, a love for Miss Hacket, and amazement that the words
+of a familiar acquaintance of her own should appear in print, genuinely
+admired. But the eyes of a youth exercised in 'chaffing' the productions
+of one of his fellow 'men' were infinitely more critical. Besides, what
+could be more shocking to the General's son than the confusion between
+the evening gun and the sham fight? And Mysie had been reduced
+to confusion for not detecting the faults, and then pardoned in
+consideration of being only a girl, by the time the gong summoned them
+to the Sunday roast beef.
+
+The dinner over, the female part of the family, scampered headlong
+upstairs, while Harry repaired with his mother to her room to talk over
+a letter from his father respecting his plans on leaving Oxford. The
+other boys hung about the hall, until Gillian and Dolores came down
+equipped for walking. 'Hollo, Gill! All right! Where's Mysie? We'll be
+off! Mysie! Mice! Mouse! Val!'
+
+'You must wait for them, Japs,' said Gillian. 'They are having their
+dresses changed; and, don't you remember, I always go to Miss Hacket's.'
+
+'Botheration! What for?'
+
+'You know very well.'
+
+'Oh yes. To help her to write touching verses about the sweet dead dove,
+with voice and plumage soft as love, eh? Only, Gill, I'm afraid
+your memory is failing, if you don't know the evening gun from rifle
+practice.'
+
+'Nonsense! that's no concern of mine,' said Gillian, opening the front
+door, very anxious to get Dolores away from hearing anything worse.
+
+'Oh, that's your modesty. Only such a conjunction could have produced
+such a scene that the evening star came up backwards to look at it!'
+
+'For shame, Jasper! How in the world did you get hold of that?'
+
+'Too sweet a thing not to meet with universal fame,' said Jasper, to
+whom it was exquisite fun to assume that Gillian devoted her Sunday
+afternoons to the concoction of such poetry with Constance Hacket,
+and thus to revenge himself for his disgust and jealousy at having his
+favourite companion and slave engrossed. Wilfred hopped about like an
+imp in ecstasy, grinning in the face of Dolores, whom Gillian longed to
+free from her tormentors. The shout was welcome, as Mysie and Valetta
+came tearing down the drive after them.
+
+'Japs! Japs! Oh, we couldn't come before because nurse would make us
+take off our Sunday serges. Come and let out the dogs. Mamma says we may
+see if there are any nice fir cones in the plantation to gild for the
+Christmas-tree.'
+
+'And you won't come?' said Jasper. 'The Muses must meet. What a poem you
+will produce!
+
+
+                'Hear I a cannon or a rifle,
+                 That is an unessential trifle!'
+
+
+'What nonsense boys do talk!' said Gillian, turning her back on them
+with regret; for much as she loved her class, she better loved a
+walk with Jasper, and here was Dolores on her hands in a state of
+exasperation, believing her to have broken her promise, and muttering,
+
+'You set him on.'
+
+'No, indeed I never did! You know I promised.'
+
+'There are plenty of ways of getting out of a promise.'
+
+'Speak for yourself, Dolores.'
+
+There were ten minutes of offended silence, and then Gillian said, 'This
+is nonsense! You may believe me, I was sorry I laughed at the first
+verses you showed me, and mamma said I ought not. We never spoke of it,
+but Miss Hacket has been giving mamma all the poems, and Jasper must
+have got at them. Don't you see?'
+
+'Oh yes, you say so,' said Dolores, sulkily.
+
+'You don't believe me!'
+
+'You promised that your brothers should never hear of it.'
+
+'I promised for myself. I couldn't promise for what was put into a
+newspaper and trumpeted all over the place,' said Gillian, really angry
+now.
+
+Dolores could not deny this, but she was hurt by the word trumpeted;
+and besides, her own slippery behaviour was weakening her trust in other
+people's sincerity, and she only gave a kind of grunt; but Gillian,
+recovering herself a little, and remembering her mother's words,
+proceeded to argue. 'Besides, it was me whom Jasper meant to tease, not
+you.'
+
+'I don't care which it was. He is as bad as the rest of them!'
+
+Gillian attempted no more conciliation, and they arrived in silence at
+the Casement Cottages, where Constance was awaiting her friend in the
+greatest excitement; for she had despatched 'The Waif of the Moorland'
+to Mr. Flinders in the course of the week, and had received a letter
+from him in return, saying that a personal interview with the gifted
+authoress would be desirable.
+
+'And I do long to see him; don't you, darling?
+
+'It is very hard that he should be kept away from me,' said Dolores,
+trying to stir up some tender feelings.
+
+'That it is, my poor sweet! I thought whether he could come to me for
+a merely literary consultation without Mary's knowing anything further
+about it, and then we could contrive for you to come down and meet him;
+but there are so many horrid prejudices that I suppose it would not be
+safe.'
+
+'I don't see how I could come down here without the others. Aunt Lily
+won't let me come alone, and though it is holiday time, that is no good,
+for those horrid boys are always about, and I see that Jasper is going
+to be worse even than Wilfred.
+
+Various ways and means were discussed, but no excuse seemed available
+for either Constance's going to Darminster, or for Mr. Flinders coming
+to Silverton, without exciting suspicion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. -- SECRET EXPEDITION
+
+
+
+'The Christmas-tree! Oh, mamma, do let it be the Christmas-tree. It is
+quite well. We've been to look at it.'
+
+'Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val,' said Gillian.
+
+'Rot!' put in Jasper.
+
+'Oh, please, please, mamma,' implored Valetta, 'please let it be the
+dear old Christmas-tree! You said I should choose because it will be my
+birthday.'
+
+'There is no need to whine, Val; you shall have your tree.'
+
+'I'm so glad!' cried Mysie. 'The dear old tree is best of all. I could
+never get tired of it if I lived to be a hundred years old.'
+
+'Such are institutions,' said their mother. 'I never heard of a
+Christmas-tree till I was twice your age.'
+
+'Oh, mamma! How dreadful! What did you do?'
+
+'I suppose it is all very well for you kids,' said Jasper, loftily,
+putting his hands in his pockets.
+
+'Perhaps something may be found interesting eve: to the high and mighty
+elders,' observed Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Oh! What, mamma?'
+
+Mamma, of course, only looked mysterious.
+
+'And,' added Val, 'mayn't we all go on a secret expedition and buy
+things for it?'
+
+'We've all been saving up,' added Mysie; 'and everybody knows every
+single thing in all the shop at Silverton.'
+
+'Besides,' added Gillian, 'the sconces will none of them hold, and
+almost all the golden globes got smashed in coming from Dublin, and one
+of the birds has its head off, and another has lost its spun-glass tail,
+and another its legs.'
+
+'A bird of Paradise,' said Lady Merrifield, laughing; 'but wasn't there
+a tree at Malta decked with no apparatus at all?'
+
+'Yes, but Alley and Phyl can do anything!'
+
+'I think we must ask Aunt Jane---'
+
+There was a howl. 'Oh, please, mamma, don't let Aunt Jane get all the
+things! We do so want to choose.'
+
+'You impatient monsters! You haven't heard me out, and you don't deserve
+it.'
+
+'Oh, mamma, I beg your pardon!' 'Oh, mamma, please!' 'Oh, mamma, pray!'
+cried the most impatient howlers, dancing round her.
+
+'What I was about to observe, before the interruption by the honourable
+members, was, that we might perhaps ask Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada to
+receive at luncheon a party of caterers for this same tree.'
+
+'Oh! oh! oh!' 'How delicious!' 'Hooray!' 'That's what I call jolly fun!'
+
+'And, mamma,' added Gillian, 'perhaps we might let Miss Hacket join.
+I know she wants to get up something for a G.F.S. class; but mamma was
+attending to Primrose, and the brothers burst in.
+
+'There goes Gill, spoiling it all!' exclaimed Wilfred.
+
+'That's always the way,' said Jasper. 'Girls must puzzle everything up
+with some philanthropic Great Fuss Society dodge.'
+
+'I am sure, Jasper,' said Gillian, 'I don't see why it should spoil
+anything to make other people happy. I thought we were told to make
+feasts not only for our own friends--'
+
+'Gill's getting just like old Miss Hacket,' said Wilfred.
+
+'Or sweet Constance,' put in Jasper. 'She'll be writing poems next.'
+
+'Hush! hush! boys,' said Lady Merrifield. 'I do not mean to interfere
+with your pleasure, 'but I had rather our discussions were not entirely
+selfish. Suppose, Gillian, we walked down to Casement Cottages, and
+consulted Miss Hacket.'
+
+This was done, in the company of all the little girls, for Miss Hacket's
+cats, doves, and gingerbread were highly popular; moreover, Dolores was
+glad of a chance sight of Constance.
+
+'My dear,' said Lady Merrifield, as Gillian walked beside her, 'you must
+be satisfied with giving Miss Hacket the reversion of our tree, and
+you and Mysie can go and help her. It will not do to make these kind of
+works a nuisance to your brothers.'
+
+'I did not think Jasper would have been so selfish as to object,' said
+Gillian, almost tearfully.
+
+'Remember that boys have a very short time at home, and cannot be
+expected to care for these things like those who work in them,' said
+Lady Merrifield. 'It will not make them do so, to bore them, and take
+away their sense of home and liberty. At the same time, they must not
+expect to have everything sacrificed to them, and so I shall make Jasper
+understand.'
+
+'You won't scold him, mamma?'
+
+'Can't you, any of you, trust me, Gill?'
+
+'Oh! mamma! Only I didn't want him to think. I wouldn't do everything
+he liked, except that I don't want him to be unkind about those poor
+girls.'
+
+Miss Hacket was perfectly enraptured at the offer of the reversion of
+the Christmas-tree and its trapping. Valetta's birthday was on the 28th
+of December and the tree was to be lighted on the ensuing evening
+for G.F.S. Moreover, the party would go to Rockstone as soon as an
+appointment could be made with Miss Mohun, to make selections at a great
+German fancy shop, recently opened there, and in full glory; and the
+Hacket sisters were invited to join the party, starting at a quarter
+to eight, and returning at a few minutes after seven, the element
+of darkness at each end only adding to the charm in the eyes of the
+children, and Valetta, with a little leap, repeated that it would be a
+real secret expedition.
+
+'Very secret indeed,' said her mother, 'considering how many it is known
+to--'
+
+'Yes, but it is, mamma, for everybody has a secret from everybody.'
+
+The words made Constance and Dolores look round with a start from their
+colloquy under the shade of the window-curtains, but no one was thinking
+of them. Just as the plans were settled, Constance came forward, saying,
+'Lady Merrifield, may I have dear Dolores to spend the day with me? We
+neither of us wish to join your kind party to Rockstone, and we should so
+enjoy being together.'
+
+'I had much rather stay,' added Dolores.
+
+'Very well,' said Lady Merrifield, reflecting that her sisters would be
+grateful for the diminution of the party, and that it would be easier to
+keep the peace without Dolores.
+
+The defection was hailed with joy by her cousins, though they were
+struck dumb at her extraordinary taste in not liking shopping.
+
+Jasper did look rather small when his mother assured him in private
+he might have trusted her to see that he was not to be incommoded with
+Gillian's girls, and he only observed, in excuse for his murmurs, that
+it made a man mad to see his sisters always off after some charity fad
+or other.
+
+"'Always' being a few hours once a week," she said.
+
+'Just when one wants her.'
+
+'Look here, my boy,' she said, 'you don't want your sisters to be
+selfish, useless, fine ladies--never doing any one any good. If they
+take up good works, they can't drop them entirely to wait on you.
+Gillian does give up a great deal, and it would be kinder to forbear a
+little, and not treat all she does as an injury to yourself.'
+
+'I only meant to get a rise out of her.'
+
+'You are quite welcome to do that, provided it is done in good nature.
+Gill is quite sound stuff enough to be laughed at! But, I say, my Japs,
+I should prefer your letting Dolores alone; she has not learned to be
+laughed at yet, and has not come even to the stage for being taught to
+bear it.'
+
+'She looks fit to turn the cream sour,' observed Jasper. 'I say, mamma,
+you don't want me to go on this shopping business, do you?'
+
+'Not by any means, sir.'
+
+Happily, the chance of a day's rabbit shooting presented itself at a
+warren some miles off, and Harry undertook the care of Wilfred, who gave
+his word of honour to obey implicitly and take no liberties with the
+guns. Fergus would gladly have gone with them, but he was still young
+enough to be sensible of the attractions of toy-shops. Only Primrose had
+to be left to the nursery, and there was no need to waste pity on her,
+for on such an occasion Mrs. Halfpenny would relax her mood, and lay
+herself out to be agreeable, when she had exhausted her forebodings
+about her leddyship making herself ill for a week gaun rampaging about
+with all the bairns, as if she was no better than one herself.
+
+'I shall let Miss Mohun do most of the rampaging, nurse; but, if it is
+fine, will you take Miss Primrose into the town and let her choose her
+own cards. I have given her a florin, and if you make the most of that
+for her, she will be as happy as going with us.'
+
+'That I will, my leddy. Bairns is easy content when ye ken how to sort
+'em.'
+
+'And, nurse, I believe there will be a box from Sir Jasper at the
+station. It may come home in the waggonette that takes us. Will you and
+Macrae get it safe into the store-room, for I don't want the children to
+see it too soon?'
+
+There was nothing but satisfaction in the house on the morning of the
+expedition. The untimely candle-light breakfast was only a fresh element
+of delight, and so was the paling gas at the station, the round, red sun
+peeping out through a yellow break between grey sky and greyer woods;
+the meeting Miss Hacket in her fur cloak, the taking of the tickets,
+the coughing of the train, the tumbling into one of the many empty
+carriages, the triumphant start,--all seemed as fresh and delicious as
+if the young people had never taken a journey before in all their lives.
+The fog in the valleys, the sleepy villages, the half-roused stations,
+all gave rise to exclamations, and nothing was regretted but that the
+windows would get clouded over.
+
+Even the waiting at the junction had its charms, for it was enlivened by
+a supplementary breakfast on rolls and milk! and at a few minutes past
+eleven the train was drawing up at Rockstone, and Aunt Jane, sealskins
+and all, was beckoning from the platform, hurrying after the carriage as
+it swept past, and holding out a hand to jump the party from the door.
+
+There she was, ready to take them to the most charming and cheapest
+shops, where the coins burning in those five pockets would go the
+furthest. Go in a cab? No, I thank you, it is far more delightful to
+walk. So mamma and Miss Hacket were stowed away in the despised vehicle,
+to make the purchases that nobody cared about, or which were to be
+unseen and unknown till the great day; while Aunt Jane undertook to
+guide the young people through the town, for her house was at the other
+end of it securing the Christmas-cards on the way, if nothin' else. For,
+though all the cards and gifts to mamma, and a good many besides, were
+of domestic manufacture, some had to be purchased, and she knew, this
+wonderful woman, where to get cards of former seasons at reduced prices
+to suit their youthful finances.
+
+Considerable patience was requisite before all the choices were made,
+and the balance cast between cards and presents, and Miss Mohun got her
+quartette past all the shop windows, to the seaside villa, shut in by
+tamarisks, which Aunt Adeline believed to be the only place that suited
+her health. Mamma and Miss Hacket had already arrived, and filled the
+little vestibule with parcels and boxes.
+
+Then the early dinner! The aunts had anticipated their Christmas turkey
+for that goodly company to help them eat it, but afterwards there
+was only time for a mince pie all round; for more than half the work
+remained to be done by all except mamma, who would stay and rest with
+Aunt Ada, having finished all that could not be deputed.
+
+However, first she had a conference in private with Aunt Jane, who
+undertook therein to come to Silverton for Valetta's birthday, and add
+astonishment and mystery sufficient to satisfy such of the public as
+were weary of Christmas-trees. She added, however, 'You will think I
+am always at you. Lily, but did you know that Flinders is living at
+Darminster?'
+
+'No; but it is five and twenty miles off, and he has never troubled us.'
+
+'Don't be too secure. He is in connection with that low paper--the
+Politician--which methinks, is the place where those remarkable poems of
+Miss Constance's have appeared.'
+
+'Is it not the way of poetry of that calibre to see the light in county
+papers?'
+
+'This seems to me of a lower calibre than is likely to get in without
+private interest.'
+
+'But to my certain knowledge the child has neither written to, nor heard
+of the man all this time.'
+
+'You don't know what goes on with her bosom friend.'
+
+'I am certain Miss Hacket would connive at nothing underhand. Besides, I
+have never seen any thing sly or deceitful in poor Dolores. She will not
+make friends with us, that is all, and that may be our fault.'
+
+'I only say, look out, you unsuspicious dame!'
+
+'Now, Jenny, satisfy my curiosity as to how you know all this. I am sure
+I never showed you those effusions. We have had trouble enough about
+them, for the children cut them up in a way Dolores has never forgiven.'
+
+'Oh! Miss Hacket sent them to me, to ask if 'Mollsey to her Babe'
+and 'The Canary' might not be passed on to Friendly Leaves. And as to
+Flinders, when I went to the G.F.S. Conference at Darminster I met the
+man full in the street, and, of course, I inquired afterwards how he
+came there. So there's nothing preternatural about it.'
+
+'It is well you did not live two hundred years ago, or you would
+certainly have been burnt for a witch.'
+
+'See what a witch I shall make on the 28th! But I hear those unfortunate
+children dancing and prancing with impatience on the stairs. I must go,
+before they have driven Ada distracted.'
+
+What would the two aunts have said, could they have seen Dolores and
+Constance, at that moment partaking of the most elaborate meal the
+Darminster refreshment-room could supply, at a little round marble
+table, in company with Mr. Flinders! They had not been obliged to start
+nearly so early as the other party, as the journey was much shorter, and
+with no change of line, so they had quietly walked to the station by ten
+o'clock, arrived at Darminster at half-past eleven, and have been met by
+the personage whom Dolores recognized as Uncle Alfred. Constance was a
+little disappointed not to see something more distinguished, and less
+flashy in style, but he was so polite and complimentary, and made such
+touching allusions to his misfortunes and his dear sister, that she soon
+began to think him exceedingly interesting, and pitied him greatly when
+he said he could not take them to his lodgings--they were not fit for
+his niece or her friend, who had done him a kindness for which he could
+never be sufficiently grateful, in affording him a glimpse of his dear
+sister's child. It made Dolores wince, for she never could bear the
+mention of her mother, it was like touching a wound, and the old
+sensation of discomfort and dislike to her uncle's company began to grow
+over her again, now that she was not struggling against Mohun opposition
+to her meeting him. He lionized them about the town, but it was a foggy,
+drizzly day, one of those when the fringe of sea-coast often enjoys
+finer weather than inland places; the streets were very sloppy, and
+Dolores and Constance did not do much beyond purchasing a few cards and
+some presents at a fancy shop, as they had agreed to do, to serve as an
+excuse for their expedition in case it could not be kept a secret,
+and most of the visit was made in the waiting-room at the station, or
+walking up and down the platform. As to the grand point, Mr. Flinders
+told Constance that her tale was talented and striking, full of great
+excellence; she might hope for success equal to Ouida's--but that he had
+found it quite impossible to induce a publisher to accept a work by an
+unknown author, unless she advanced something. He could guarantee the
+return, but she must entrust him with thirty pounds. Poor Constance! it
+was a fatal blow; she had not thirty pounds in the world; she doubted
+if she could raise the sum, even by her sister's help. Then Mr. Flinders
+sighed, and thought that if he represented the circumstances, the firm
+might be content with twenty--nay, even fifteen. Constance cheered up
+a little. She did think she could make up fifteen, after the 21st, when
+certain moneys became due, which she shared with her sister. She would
+be left very bare all the spring--but what was that to the return
+she was promised? Only Mr. Flinders impressed on her the necessity of
+secrecy--even from her sister--since, he said, if he were once known
+to have obtained such terms for a young authoress, he should be besieged
+for ever!
+
+'But, Uncle Alfred,' said Dolores, 'surely my father and mother, and
+all the other people I have known, did not pay to get their things
+published.'
+
+'My dear niece, you speak as one who has been with persons of high and
+established fame--the literary aristocracy, in fact. The doors once
+opened, Miss Hacket will, like them, make her own terms; but such doors,
+like many others, are only to be opened by a silver key.'
+
+There were other particulars which he talked over with the authoress in
+a promenade on the platform while Dolores was left in the waiting-room;
+but afterwards he indulged his niece with a tete-a-tete, asking her
+father's address, and mourning over the length of time it would take to
+obtain an answer from Fiji. Mr. Mohun had promised to help him, solemnly
+and kindly promised, for the sake of her whom they had both loved so
+much, and here he was, cut off and quite in extremity. Unfortunate as
+usual, through his determined enemies, a company in which he had shares
+had collapsed, he was penniless till his salary from the Politician
+became due in March. Meanwhile, he should be expelled from his lodging
+and brought to ruin if he could not raise a few pounds--even one.
+
+Dolores had nearly two pounds in her purse. Her father had left her
+amply provided, and she had not much opportunity of spending. She knew
+he had seen the gold when she was shopping, and when she had paid for
+the refreshments, which of course she had found she had to do. With some
+hesitation she said, 'If thirty shillings would be of any good to you--'
+
+'My dear, generous child, your dear mother's own daughter! It will be
+the saving of me temporarily! But among all your wealthy relatives,
+surely, considering your father's promise, you could obtain some advance
+until he can be communicated with!'
+
+'If he is still in New Zealand, we could telegraph, and hear directly.
+He did not know how long he should be there, for the ship had something
+to be done to it.'
+
+This did not suit Mr. Flinders. Such telegrams were very expensive, and
+it was too uncertain whether Mr. Mohun would be at Auckland. Surely,
+Lady Merrifield, whose husband was shaking the pagoda tree, would make
+an advance if she knew the circumstances.
+
+'I don't think she would,' said Dolores, 'I don't think they are very
+rich. There is only one horse and one little pony, and my cousins have
+such very tiny allowances.'
+
+'Haughty and poor! Stuck up and skimping. Yes, I understand. But I am
+not asking from her, only an advance, on your father's promise, which
+he would be certain to repay. Yes, quite certain! It is only a matter
+of time. It would save me at the present moment from utter ruin and
+destruction that would have broken your dear mother's heart. Oh! Mary,
+what I lost in you.' Then, as perhaps he saw reflection on Dolores's
+face, he added, 'She is gone, the only person who took an interest in
+me, so it matters the less, and when you hear again of your unhappy
+uncle you will know what drove him--'
+
+'If it was only an advance--I have a cheque,' began Dolores. 'If seven
+pounds would do you any good--'
+
+'It would be salvation!' he exclaimed.
+
+'Father left it with me,' pursued Dolores, considering, 'in case
+Professor Muhlwasser went on with his great book of coloured plates of
+microscopic marine zoophytes, and sent it in. I was to keep this and pay
+with it--'
+
+'Oh! Muhlwasser! you need not trouble about him. I saw his death in the
+paper a month ago.'
+
+'Then I really think I might send you the cheque, and write to my father
+why I did so.'
+
+'Ah! Dolly, I knew that your mother's daughter could never desert me.'
+
+More followed of the same kind, tending to make Dolores feel that she
+was doing a heroically generous thing, and stifling the lurking sense in
+her mind that she had no right to dispose of her father's money without
+his consent. The December day began to close in, the gas was lighted,
+Constance was seen disconsolately peeping out at the waiting-room door
+to see whether the private conference were over. They joined her again,
+and Mr. Flinders discoursed about the envy and jealousy of critics, and
+success being only attained by getting into a certain clique, till she
+began to look rather frightened; but reassured by the voluble list of
+names and papers to which he assured her of recommendations. Then he
+began to be complimentary, and she, to put on the silly tituppy kind of
+face and tone wherewith she had talked to the curates at the festival.
+Dolores began to find this very dull, and to feel neglected, perhaps
+also cross, and doubts came across her whether she might not get into
+a dreadful scrape about the money, which she certainly had no right to
+dispose of. She at last broke in with, 'Uncle Alfred, are you quite sure
+Professor Muhlwasser is dead?'
+
+'Bless your heart, child, he's as dead as Harry the Eighth,' said Mr.
+Flinders in haste;' died at Berlin, of fatty degeneration of the heart!
+Well, as I was saying, Miss Constance--'
+
+'But, uncle, I was thinking--'
+
+'Hush!' as a couple of ladies and a whole train of nurses and children
+invaded the waiting-room, 'it won't do to talk of such little matters
+in public places, you know. Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss
+Constance. Will you allow me to be your cavalier?'
+
+People were beginning to arrive in expectation of the coming train, and
+talk was not possible in the throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not make
+it so. At last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to find places
+for the ladies, when there was a moment's glimpse of a handsome
+moustached face at a smoking-carriage window. Dolores started, and had
+almost exclaimed, 'Uncle Reginald;' but before the words were out of her
+mouth, Mr. Flinders had drawn her on swiftly, among all the numbers of
+people getting out and getting in, hurled her into a distant carriage,
+handed Constance in after her, and muttering something about forgetting
+an appointment, he vanished, without any of the arrangements about
+foot-warmers that he had promised.
+
+'Uncle Reginald!' again exclaimed Dolores, 'I am sure it was he!'
+
+'Oh dear! What an escape!' answered Constance, breathless with surprise,
+and settling herself with disgust and difficulty next to a fat old
+farmer, as three or four more people entered and jammed them close
+together.
+
+'Who is he?' she presently whispered.
+
+'Colonel Mohun. His regiment is at Galway. I know he talked of getting
+over this winter if he possibly could; but Aunt Lily went away before
+the post was come in.'
+
+'We shall have to take great care when we get out.'
+
+Here the train started, and conversation in undertones became
+impossible, more especially as two of the farmers in the carriage were
+coming back from the Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the
+prize oxen with all their might. It was very stuffy and close. Constance
+looked ineffably fastidious and uncomfortable, and Dolores gazed at the
+clouded window, and dull little lamp overhead, put in to enliven the
+deepening twilight. This avoiding of Uncle Reginald brought more before
+her mind a sense of wrong-doing than anything that had gone before.
+She was fond of this uncle, who always made her father's house his
+headquarters when in London, and used to play with her when she was a
+small child, and always to take her to the Zoological Gardens, till she
+declared she was too old to care for such a childish show, and then he
+and her father both laughed at her so much that she would never have
+forgiven anybody else; and she found he enjoyed it for his own sake far
+more than she did. However, he always did take her out for walks and
+sights that were sure to be amusing with him. Father, too, was quite
+bright and alive when he was in the house, and thus Dolores had nothing
+but pleasant associations connected with this uncle, and had heard of
+the chances of his coming like a ray of light, though without much hope,
+since the state of Ireland had prevented him from being able even to
+run over to take leave of her father. And now he was come, she must hide
+from him like a guilty thing! There was no spirit of opposition against
+him in her mind, and thus she could feel that she was doing something
+sad and strange. Moreover, she began to feel that her promise about the
+cheque had been a rash one, and the echo of her father's voice came back
+on her, saying, 'Surely, Mary, you know better than to believe a word
+out of Flinders's mouth.'
+
+But then she thought of her mother's rare tears glistening in her eyes,
+and the answer, 'Poor Alfred! I cannot give him up. Everything has been
+against him.'
+
+It was quite dark before Silverton was reached, at half-past five, with
+three quarters of an hour to spare before the other travellers were
+expected. Most of their fellow passengers had got out at previous
+stations, so that Constance was able to open the door and jump out so
+perilously before the train had quite stopped, that a porter caught her
+with a sharp word of reproof. She grasped Dolores's hand and scudded
+across the platform, giving the return tickets almost before the
+collector was ready. A cautious guard even exclaimed, 'What's those two
+young women up to?' but was answered at once, 'They're all right! That's
+nought but one of the old parson's daughters, as have been out with a
+return to Darminster.'
+
+'A sweetheartin'?' demanded one of the bystanders, and there was a
+laugh.
+
+Constance heard the tones and vulgar laugh, though not the words, and
+she was in such a panic as she hurried down the steps that she did not
+stop to look out for a cab. The place was small, and they were not very
+plentiful at any time, and she was mortally afraid, though she hardly
+knew why, of being over-taken and questioned by Colonel Mohun, who might
+know his niece, though he would not know her; but Dolores was tired, and
+had a headache, and did not at all like the walk in the dirt, and fog,
+and dark, after turning from the gas lit station.
+
+'We were to have a cab, Constance.'
+
+'We can't,' was the answer, still hurrying on. 'He would come out upon
+us.'
+
+'He is much more likely to overtake us this way!' said Dolores, thinking
+of her uncle's long strides.
+
+'Well, we can't turn back now!' said Constance, getting almost into a
+run, which lasted till they were past the paddock gate. Dolores, panting
+to keep up with her, had half a mind to turn up there and go straight
+home; but there might be any number of oxen in the way, and almost
+worse, she might meet Jasper and Wilfred, or if Uncle Reginald overtook
+her, what would he think?
+
+The pair slackened their pace a little when they had satisfied
+themselves that the break in the dark hedge beside them was the gate.
+They heard wheels, and presently saw the lamps of a cab, bearing down,
+halt at the gate they had left behind, and turn in.
+
+'We should have been off first,' said Dolores.
+
+'If we could have got a cab in time?'
+
+'One can always get cabs.'
+
+'Oh! no, not at all for certain.'
+
+'This is a nasty, stupid, out-of-the-way place,' said Dolores, wanting
+to say something cross.
+
+'It isn't a vulgar place, full of traffic,' returned Constance, equally
+cross.
+
+'Well, I never meant to walk home in this way! I'm sure my feet are wet.
+I wish I had waited and gone with Uncle Regie.'
+
+'Now, Dolly, what do you mean? You would not have it all betrayed?'
+
+'I've a great mind to tell Uncle Regie all about it.'
+
+'Now, Dolly! When you said so much about the Mohun pride and scorn of
+your poor, dear uncle.'
+
+'Uncle Regie is not proud. And he would know what to do.'
+
+'But,' cried Constance, in a fright, 'you would never tell him! You
+promised that it should be a secret, and I should be in such a dreadful
+scrape with Lady Merrifield and Mary.'
+
+'Well! it was your doing, and you had all the pleasure of it,
+flourishing about the platform with him.'
+
+'How can you be so disagreeable, Dolores, when you know it was all on
+business. Though I do think he is the most interesting man I ever did
+see.'
+
+'Just because he flattered you.'
+
+However, there is no need to tell how many cross and quarrelsome things
+the two tired friends said to each other. They were sitting on opposite
+sides of the fire, one very gloomy, and the other very pettish, when
+the waggonette stopped at the gate, to put out Miss Hacket and take
+up Dolores. Hands pulled her up the step, and a hubbub of merry voices
+received her in the dark.
+
+'Good girl, not to keep us waiting.'
+
+'Oh, Dolly, Dolly, Macrae says Uncle Regie's come!'
+
+'Oh, Dolly, it has been such fun!'
+
+'Take care of my parcel!'
+
+'Ah, ha! you don't know what is in there.'
+
+'Here's something under my feet!'
+
+'Oh! take care! 'Tisn't my--'
+
+'Hush, hush, Val--'
+
+And so it went on till on the steps was seen in full light among the
+boys, Uncle Reginald, ready to lift every one out with a kiss.'
+
+'Ha! Dolly, is that you?' he said, as they came into the hall. 'I saw
+such a likeness of you at one station that I was as near as possible
+jumping out to speak to her. She had on just that fur tippet!'
+
+'That comes of living in Ireland, Regie,' said Aunt Lily. 'Once in a
+shop at Belfast, a lady darted up to me with "And it's I that am glad
+to see you, me dear. And how's me sweet little god-daughter? Oh! and
+it isn't yourself. And aren't you Mrs. Phelim O'Shaugnessy?'" And under
+cover of this, Dolores retreated to her own room. She took off her
+things, and then looked at the cheque.
+
+Professor Muhlwasser was a clever German, always at work on science,
+counting, in the most minute and accurate manner, such details as the
+rays in a sea anemone's tentacles, or the eggs in a shrimp's roe. He
+was engaged on a huge book, in numbers, of which Mr. Maurice Mohun had
+promised to take two copies--but whereas extravagances upon peculiar
+hobbies were apt not to be tolerated in the family, and it was really
+uncertain whether the work would ever be completed, Mr. Mohun had
+preferred leaving a cheque for the payment in his little daughter's
+hand, rather than entrust it to one of the brothers, who would have
+howled and growled at such a waste of good money on such a subject.
+Thus he had told Dolores to back the draft, get it changed, and send
+the amount by a postal order to Germany, if the books and account should
+come, which he thought very doubtful.
+
+And now the professor was dead, Dolores looked at the cheque, and
+supposed she could do as she pleased with it. Mother helped Uncle
+Alfred. Yes, but mother earned all she sent him herself! Perhaps he
+would not ask again. How much more he had talked to Constance than to
+herself. Dolly wished she had not seen him to get into this difficulty.
+She was tired, cold, and damp. Oh! if she had never gone, and not been
+half caught by Uncle Regie!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. -- A HUNT
+
+
+
+Dolores was glad to recollect, when she awoke, that Uncle Reginald was
+in the house. It was as if she had a friend of her own there who might
+enter into all the ill-usage she suffered, and whom she could even
+consult about Uncle Alfred, so far as she could do so without disclosing
+all the underhand correspondence. She called doing so betraying
+Constance, but, in truth, she shrank more from shocking him with what
+he might think very wrong--since, after all, he belonged to that
+hard-hearted generation of grown-up people who had no feeling nor
+understanding of one's troubles.
+
+As she went downstairs she was aware of an increasing hubbub, and
+frequently looking over the balusters, perceived the top of Primrose's
+wavy head above the close-cropped one of Uncle Regie, as, with her
+mounted on his shoulder, he careered round the hall, with a pack of
+others vociferating behind him.
+
+There was a lull, for Lady Merrifield came out of her room just as
+Dolores had paused; Primrose was put down, the morning salutations took
+place, and Dolores had her full share of them. She was even allowed to
+sit next her uncle at breakfast; but her rasher of bacon had not been
+half eaten, before she had perceived that, as to possessing him as she
+used to do at home, he was just as much everybody else's Uncle Regie as
+hers, for during the time of their being stationed at Belfast, he had
+been so often with them, that he was quite established as the prince of
+playfellows.
+
+'Uncle Regie, will you have a crack at the rabbits tomorrow? Brown said
+we might have a day, and we have been keeping it for you.'
+
+'Uncle Regie, the hounds meet at the Bugle this morning, won't you come
+and see them throw off?'
+
+'Oh, let me come too!' 'And me!' 'And me!'
+
+'My dear children,' exclaimed their mother, 'I can't have the whole
+tribe of little ones and girls going galloping after your uncle. You
+will only hinder him.'
+
+'No, no, Lily! the more Merrifields, the merrier the field. I'll drill
+them well. How far off is this Bugle?'
+
+'Not two miles over Furzy Common.'
+
+'Oh! not so far, Hal!'
+
+'That's nothing. Who is coming?'
+
+A general outbreak of 'Me's' ensued, but mamma laid an embargo on
+Primrose, who must stay at home and 'help her,' while Gillian looked
+wistful and doubtful, knowing that more efficient help than the little
+one's might be desirable.
+
+'You had better go, my dear,' said her mother, 'if you are not tired. I
+don't like to send Mysie and Val without some one to turn back with them
+if your uncle and the boys want to go further.'
+
+But whereas it was not nearly time to start, Uncle Reginald was
+dragged down to inspect all the live stock in the stable-yard, at their
+feeding-time, and went off with Val and Primrose clinging to his hands,
+and the general rabble surrounding him.
+
+Nothing could have been more alien to Dolores's taste than going out to
+a meet on foot through mud and mire--she who hated the being driven out
+to take a constitutional walk on the gravel road or the paved path! But
+she had some hope that while all the others ran off madly, as was
+their wont, she might secure a little rational conversation with Uncle
+Reginald. So she came down in hat and ulster, and was rewarded with
+'That's right, Doll; I'm glad to see they have taught you to take
+country walks.'
+
+'It is all compliment to you, Uncle Regie,' said Gillian. 'She hates
+them generally.'
+
+'Are we all ready? Where are Japs and Will?'
+
+'Gone to shut up the dogs; and Hal is not coming.'
+
+'Beneath his dignity, eh?'
+
+'I think he has some reading to do,' said Gillian.
+
+'Now mind, Reginald,' said Aunt Lily, coming on the scene, 'you are not
+to let those imps drag you farther than you like. It is a very different
+thing, remember, children, from going out with the hounds like a
+gentleman.'
+
+'Yes, mamma,' returned Fergus. 'If you would only let me have the pony!'
+
+'And send home the girls as soon as you find them in the way,' she
+added.
+
+'All right,' answered he, and off plunged the party; but Dolores soon
+found that she was not to be allowed much of Uncle Reginald's exclusive
+society. He did begin talking to her about her father's voyage, last
+letters, and intended departure from Auckland, but Valetta kept fast
+hold of his other hand, and the others were all round, every moment
+pointing out something--to them noticeable--and telling the story of
+some exploit, delighted when their uncle capped it with some boyish
+tales of Beechcroft, or with some droll, Irish story.
+
+With such talk, the strong, healthy young folk little heeded the surface
+mud or the lanes. Even Dolores when she heard her father's name in the
+reminiscences,' was interested for a time, and was always hoping that
+the others would fly off and leave her to her uncle; but she was much
+less used to country mud and stout boots than the others, and she had
+been very much tired by her expedition on the previous day, so that
+she had begun to find the way very long before they came out on an open
+green, with a few cottages standing a good way back in their gardens,
+and as their centre, one of the great old coaching inns of past days,
+now chiefly farmhouse, though a sign, bearing a golden bugle-horn upon a
+blue ground, stood aloft in front of it, over the heads of the speckled
+mass of tan, black, and white, pervaded with curved tails, over which
+the scarlet-coated whips kept guard, while shining horses, bearing red
+coats and black coats, boys, and a few ladies, were moving about, and
+carriages drew up from time to time.
+
+There was a long standing about, and Colonel Mohun, being a stranger
+there himself, kept his flock on the outskirts, only Jasper plunging
+in, at sight of a mounted schoolfellow, while Gillian and Mysie told the
+names of the few they recognized. At last there was a move, and Jasper
+came back to point out the wood they were going to draw, close at hand.
+Should they not all go on and see it?
+
+'Oh! let us! do come, Uncle Regie,' cried Mysie and Val.
+
+'Look here, Gill,' said the uncle, 'this child doesn't look fit to go
+any farther.'
+
+'I'm very tired, and so cold,' said Dolores.
+
+'Yes,' said Gillian, 'we ought to go home now.'
+
+Not me! not me;' cried the other two girls; 'Uncle Regie will take care
+of us.'
+
+'I think you must come,' said Gillian, 'mamma said you had better come
+home when I do.'
+
+'Yes,' said Wilfred, 'we don't want a pack of girls to go and get
+tired.'
+
+'We shall go into all sorts of places not fit for you,' said Jasper;
+'you wouldn't come back with a whole petticoat among you.'
+
+'And Val would be left stodged in a ditch for a month of Sundays,' added
+Wilfred.
+
+'I am afraid we had better part company, Gill,' said the colonel. 'I
+would take you on a little further, but this poor little Londoner won't
+have a leg to stand upon by the time she gets home.'
+
+'More shame for her to come out to spoil our fun,' muttered Valetta, too
+low for her uncle to hear.
+
+'Mamma will think we have gone quite far enough, thank you, uncle,' said
+the sage Gillian, 'and I think Fergus had better come too.'
+
+'That he had,' said Jasper. 'Fancy him over Peat Hill.'
+
+'He'll be left behind to be picked up as we come back,' said Wilfred.
+
+'No, no, no! I can keep up better than you can, Wil! Take me, Uncle
+Regie.' The little boy was so near a howl that good-natured Colonel
+Mohun's heart was touched, and he consented to let him come on, though
+Jasper argued, 'You'll have to carry him, uncle.'
+
+'No, I'll make you, master! Tell your mother not to wait luncheon for
+us, Gillian; we'll pick up something somewhere.'
+
+'Hurrah!' cried Wilfred and Fergus, to whom this was an immense
+additional pleasure.
+
+The girls turned away into the lane, Valetta indulging in an outrageous
+grumble. 'Why should Dolores have come out to spoil everything?'
+
+Dolores did not speak.
+
+'Just our one chance,' sighed Mysie, 'and perhaps we should have seen
+the fox.'
+
+'We may do that yet,' said Gillian; 'he may come this way.'
+
+'I don't care if he does,' said Valetta. 'I wanted to see them draw the
+copse. I believe Dolores did it on purpose to spoil our pleasure.'
+
+'Don't be so cross, Val,' said Mysie. 'She can't help being tired.'
+
+'Why did she come, then, when nobody wanted her?'
+
+'For shame, Val,' said Gillian, 'you know mamma would be very angry to
+hear you say anything so unkind.'
+
+'It's quite true, though,' muttered Valetta.
+
+'Never mind, Dolly, dear,' said Mysie, shocked. 'Val doesn't really mean
+it, you know.'
+
+'Yes, she does,' said Dolores, shaking her comforter off; 'you all do! I
+wish I had never come here.'
+
+Mysie tried in her own persevering way to argue again that Val was only
+put out, and disappointed at having to turn back, to which Valetta, in
+spite of Gillian's endeavour to silence her, added, 'So stupid of her to
+come out! What did she do it for?'
+
+Dolores, who hardly ever cried, was tired into crying now. 'You grudge
+me everything; you wouldn't let me speak one single word to Uncle Regie,
+and kept bothering about! I'll never do anything with you again! I
+won't.'
+
+'Did you want to speak to Uncle Regie?' asked Mysie.
+
+'To be sure I did! He is my uncle, that I knew ever so long before you
+did, and you never let him speak to me.'
+
+'Mrs. Halfpenny always put us on the high chair, with our faces to the
+wall when we were jealous,' remarked Valetta.
+
+'But did you want to say anything to him in particular?' said Mysie,
+revolving means of contriving a private interview.
+
+'That's no business of yours! I wish you would let me alone!' broke
+out Dolores, in a fretful fright lest any one should guess that she had
+anything on her mind.
+
+'To make up stories of us, of course,' growled Valetta, but Gillian
+here interposed, declaring with authority that if she heard another word
+before they reached the paddock gate, she should certainly tell mother
+how disgracefully they had been behaving. When Gillian said such things
+she kept her word. Besides, by way of precaution, she marched down the
+muddy middle of the road, with Dolores limping along the footpath on one
+side, and Val as far off as possible on the border of the ditch, on the
+other; the more inoffensive Mysie keeping by her side. They were all
+weary, and Dolores was very footsore also, by the time they reached
+home, at the very moment that the two Misses Hacket appeared coming up
+the drive. Lady Merrifield, having the day before invited the elder, as
+the purchases needed to be looked over, and preparations set in hand,
+and she did not then know that her brother was coming.
+
+Dolores scarcely knew whether she was glad to see Constance. She had
+many doubts and qualms about that cheque. And if she had spent any quiet
+time alone with her uncle, she might have laid enough of her trouble
+before him to get some advice or help; but to ask for an interview,
+especially when 'everybody' thought it was to make complaints, was too
+uncomfortable and alarming; and she was inclined to escape from thought
+of the whole subject altogether by taking action quickly.
+
+Gillian gave her uncle's message about not waiting; the dirty boots were
+taken off in the hall, and Constance followed her friend up to her room
+to take off her things.
+
+Dolores sat on the side of her bed, too much tired at first to be
+willing to move, Constance's pity elicited tears, and that they had all
+been so very unkind to her; they were angry at her getting tired,
+and they were jealous of her even speaking to Uncle Regie. Again
+this alarmed Constance, 'You weren't going to tell him about Mr.
+Flinders--you know you promised.'
+
+'He knows about him already, and he would tell me what to do.'
+
+'Oh! but that would never do, darling Dolly. You told me all the family
+were hard and unjust, and he would tell Lady Merrifield, and we should
+never be allowed to see each other again. And only think of my poor
+little secret! I didn't think you would have turned from your poor
+relation in misfortune for the sake of this grand Colonel.'
+
+The end of it was, that just as the gong was sounding, Dolores handed
+over to Constance an envelope directed to Mr. Flinders, and containing
+Mr. Maurice Mohun's cheque. It was off her mind now, she thought, as she
+shuffled down to dinner, lookup so pale and uneasy that her aunt made
+her have a glass of wine and some gravy soup to begin with, and, when
+dinner was over, turned all the parcels off the school-room sofa, and
+made her lie upon it during the grand unpacking, which was almost
+as charming as the purchasing, perhaps more so, since there was no
+comparison with costlier articles.
+
+There was not very much time. This was Friday and Christmas Day was on
+Monday, so there were only two more clear week-days before the birthday
+and Miss Hacket would be church-decorating on the morrow; but Lady
+Merrifield would not send her daughters to help, as there were plenty of
+hands without them, and they were too young to trust in a mixed set, who
+were not always sure to be reverent.
+
+Dinner had rested and refreshed them; they rejoiced in the absence of
+the man-kind, and Primrose was sent out for her walk while the numerous
+boxes and packages were opened, and displayed sconces and tapers,
+gilt balls and glass birds, oranges and bon-bons, disguised in every
+imaginable fashion. There was a double set of the tapers, and two relays
+of devices in sweets, for the benefit of the party of the second night,
+a list of whom Miss Hacket had brought, that heads might be counted, and
+any deficiency supplied in time through Aunt Jane. For Lady Merrifield
+had commissioned Gillian to lay in--unknown to the good lady--a stock
+of such treasures as are valuable indeed to the little maid: shell
+pin-cushions, Cinderella slippers holding thimbles, cases of hair-pins,
+queer housewives, and the like things, wonderfully pretty for the
+price, and which filled the kind heart of Miss Hacket with rapture and
+gratitude at such brilliant additions to her own home-made contrivances
+in the way of cuffs, comforters, and illuminated workbags, all
+beautifully neat; I though it was hard to persuade her of what Lady
+Merrifield averred, that such things ought to be far more precious than
+brilliant, shop-bought, ready-made ware, 'with no love-seed in it.'
+
+'It is very hard,' she said; 'how fancy shops try to spoil all one used
+to be able to do for one's friends. The purses, and the penwipers, and
+the needle-cases that were one's choicest presents in my youth, are all
+turned out now smart and tight and fashioned, but without a scrap of the
+honest old labour and love that went into them.'
+
+'But papa and mamma do care still,' cried Gillian; 'papa never will have
+any purse but the long ones mamma nets for him.'
+
+'And mamma always will have the old brown and blue carriage-bag that
+Aunt Phyllis worked,' chimed in Mysie, 'though Claude did say he would
+throw it into the sea when we crossed from Dublin for it looked like an
+old housekeeper's.'
+
+'Claude was in a superfine condition then--in awe of an old Sandhurst
+comrade. He would be gild enough to see the old brown bag now, poor
+fellow,' said Lady Merrifield, tenderly.
+
+So it went on, with merry chat and a good deal of real preparation, till
+the early darkness came on, and a great noise in the haul announced
+the return of 'the boys,' among whom Lady Merrifield still classed her
+colonel brother. They were muddy up to the eyes, but they had seen
+a great deal more than was easy to understand in their incoherent
+accounts. Wilfed had rolled into a wet ditch, and been picked out by his
+uncle and hung up to dry at a little village inn, where--this seemed
+to have been the supreme glory--they had made a meal on pigs'-liver
+and bread-and-cheese before plodding home again--losing their way
+under Wilfred's confident pilotage--finding themselves five miles from
+home--getting a cast in a cart for the two little boys just as Fergus
+was almost ready to cry--Colonel Mohun and Jasper walking alongside of
+the carter for two miles, and conversing in a friendly manner, though
+the man said he knew the soldier by his step, and thought it was a
+pool-trade. Finally, he directed them by a short cut, which proved to be
+through a lane of clay and pools of such an adhesive nature that Fergus
+had to be pulled out step by step by main force by his uncle, who
+deposited him on some stones at the other end, and then came back to
+assist the struggles of Wilfred, who was slowly proceeding with Jasper's
+help.
+
+'And that's the way we make you spend your Christmas holiday, Regie,'
+said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Never mind. Lily; mud was a congenial element to us both in old
+times, you know, so no wonder your brood take to it like ducks or
+hippopotamuses. I say, we ought to have come in by the rear. Couldn't
+that imp of a buttons of yours come and scrape us before we go
+upstairs?'
+
+'You are certainly grown older, Regie. You never would have thought of
+that once.'
+
+'No more would you, Lily--so do yourself justice.'
+
+However, when five o'clock tea was spread in the drawing-room, and the
+Hacket ladies came in, Constance beheld such a splendid vision of a
+fine, fair, though sunburnt face, long, light moustaches, and tall
+figure, that she instantly assumed her most affected graces, and did not
+wonder the less that the Mohuns were all so very high.
+
+Dolores's strong desire for a private interview with her uncle died away
+when Constance carried off the cheque. She knew he would tell her she
+had no right to give it, and she did not want to be told so, nor to have
+any special inquiries made. She was not sorry that an invitation from a
+neighbour kept him and Hal out shooting all Saturday, and, on the other
+hand, she so far shrank from Constance's talk about Mr. Flinders as not
+to be vexed that it was too wet on Sunday afternoon for any going down
+to Casement Cottages.
+
+It was on that wet afternoon, however, that Uncle Reginald, crossing
+the hall for once without his tail of followers, saw her slowly dragging
+downstairs with a book in her hand.
+
+'Well, Miss Doll,' he said; 'you don't look very jolly! What's the
+matter?'
+
+'Nothing, Uncle Regie.'
+
+'I don't believe in nothing. Here,' sitting down on the stairs, with an
+arm round her, 'tell me all about it, Dolly, we are old chums, you know.
+Have you got into a row?'
+
+'Oh no!'
+
+'Is there anything I can put straight?'
+
+'No, thank you, Uncle Regie.'
+
+'There's something amiss!' said the good-natured, puzzled uncle. 'What
+is it? I should have thought you would have got on with these young
+folks like--like a house on fire.'
+
+'That's all you know about it,' thought Dolly. What she said was, 'One
+never does.'
+
+'I don't understand that generalization,' answered her uncle; then, as
+she did not answer, he added, 'I am sure your Aunt Lily is very anxious
+to make you happy. Have you anything to complain of?'
+
+'No,' said Dolores, 'I don't complain of anything.'
+
+She was thinking of Valetta's notion that she wanted to 'make up stories
+of them,' and therefore she said it in a manner which conveyed that she
+had a good deal to complain of, if she would, though really she would
+have been a good deal puzzled to produce a grievance that a man like
+Uncle Reginald would understand, though she had plenty for sympathy like
+Constance's.
+
+However, it was not to be expected that a private conference should last
+long in that house, and Mysie appeared at that moment, looking for her
+cousin, to say that 'Mamma was ready for her.' Dolores went off with
+more alacrity than usual, and Uncle Reginald beckoned up his other
+niece, and observed: 'I say, Mysie, what's the matter with Dolly?'
+
+'She is always like that, uncle,' answered Mysie.
+
+'Don't you hit it off with her, then?'
+
+'I can't, uncle,' said Mysie, looking up, with a sudden wink now and
+then to stop her tears. 'I thought we should have been such friends; but
+she won't let me. I didn't mean to be stupid and disagreeable, like the
+girls in 'Ashenden Schoolroom,' but she doesn't care for anybody but
+Miss Constance and Maude Sefton.'
+
+'I hope you are all very kind to her,' said Uncle Reginald, rather
+wistfully.
+
+'We try,' said Mysie, who was not going to betray Wilfred and Valetta,
+and could honestly say so of herself and Gillian.
+
+And there again came an interruption, in the shape of Gillian. 'Mysie,
+mamma says we may finish up our sacred illuminated cards, for it will be
+Sunday work.'
+
+'Oh, jolly!' cried Mysie, jumping up. 'And will you give me one rub of
+your real good carmine Gilly-flower, dear.'
+
+'And of my ultramarine, too,' responded Gillian, wherewith the two
+sisters disappeared, radiant with goodwill and gratitude; while poor
+Uncle Reginald, who had intended to devote this wet Sunday afternoon to
+writing to his brother that Dolores was perfectly happy and thriving in
+Lily's care, and like a sister to his other favourite, Mysie, remained
+disappointed and perplexed, wondering whether the poor little maiden
+were homesick, or whether no children could be depended on for kindness
+when out of sight, and deciding that he should defer his letter till
+he had seen a little more, and talked to his sister Jane, who could see
+through a milestone any day.
+
+It was understood that mamma preferred home-made cards to bought ones,
+so there was always a great manufacture of them in the weeks previous
+to Christmas, the comparative failures being exchanged among the younger
+members.
+
+The presents were always reserved for Valetta's birthday and the tree,
+and this rendered the circulation of the cards doubly interesting. In
+the immediate family alone, there were thirteen times thirteen, besides
+those coming from, and going to outsiders, so that it was as well that
+a good many should be of domestic manufacture, either with pencil and
+brush, or of tiny leaves carefully dried and gummed. And mamma had kept
+an album, with names and dates, into which all these home efforts were
+inserted, and nothing else! This year's series began with a little
+chestnut curl of Primrose's hair, fastened down on a card by Gillian,
+and rose to a beautiful drawing of a blue Indian Lotus lily, with a
+gorgeous dragon-fly on it, sent by Alethea. The Indian party had sent a
+card for every one--the girls, beautiful drawings of birds, insects, and
+scenery; the brother, a bundle of rice-paper figured with costumes,
+and papa, some clever pen-and-ink outlines of odd figures, which his
+daughters beguiled from him in his leisure moments!
+
+As to the home circle, it is enough to say that their performances were
+highly satisfactory to the makers, and were rewarded by mamma's kisses,
+and the text or verse she had secretly illuminated for each. She had no
+time to do more, and the series were infinitely prized and laid up as
+treasures. There were plenty of ornamental cards from without to be
+admired: the Brighton and Beechcroft aunts; the Stokesley cousins, and
+whole multitudes of friends pouring them in as usual; so that the entire
+review seemed to occupy all those free moments of the Christmas Day,
+when the young folks were neither at church, nor at meals, nor singing
+carols themselves, nor hearing the choir sing in the hall, nor looking
+over photograph books and hearing old family stories. This last
+occupation was received in the family as the regular evening pleasure,
+ending in all singing, 'When shepherds watch their flocks by night.'
+
+Dolores had a card from her aunt and each of her cousins, besides one of
+the parcel Uncle Reginald had brought. She did not think enough of the
+very bad drawing and smeared painting of the ambitious attempts she
+received, to feel at all disconcerted at having no reciprocity to offer.
+The only cards she had sent were to Constance Hacket, to Fraulein, and
+to Maude Sefton--the last with a sore sense of the long interval since
+she had heard.
+
+However, there was a card from Maude, but it was a very poor one,
+looking very much like a last year's possession, and the letter was not
+much better, being chiefly an apology for having been too busy to write.
+Maude was going to lectures with Nona Styles--Nona was such a darling
+girl--and breaking off because she was wanted to rehearse Cinderella
+with this same darling Nona.
+
+It made Dolores's heart go down farther, though there was a beautiful
+and unexpected card from Mrs. Sefton, one from her former servant,
+Caroline, also from Fraulein, and three or four from old friends of her
+mother, who had remembered the solitary girl. In truth, she had more
+beautiful ones than anybody else, but she kept these in their envelopes,
+and showed herself so much averse to free fingering and admiration of
+them that Lady Merrifield had to call off Valetta, remind her that her
+cousin had a right to her own cards, and hear in return that Dolores was
+so cross.
+
+'Dolly,' said Uncle Reginald, in a low voice, since he was permitted
+to look over the cards with her, 'I think I have found out part of your
+troubles.'
+
+She looked at him in alarm.
+
+He put his finger on a card bearing the words, 'Goodwill to men.'
+
+'Umph,' said she. 'I don't want everything of mine messed and spoilt.'
+
+And as his eye fell on Fergus's cards, he felt there was reason in what
+she said.
+
+Aunt Lily had taken her for a quarter of an hour that morning, trying to
+infuse the real thought underlying the joy that makes it Christmas, not
+only yule-tide. But it all fell flat--it was all lessons to her--imposed
+on her on a day that she had not been used to see made what she called
+'goody.' Last year her father had shut himself up after church, and she
+had spent the evening in noisy mirth with the Seftons.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. -- AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX
+
+
+
+Aunt Adeline was afraid of winter journeys as well as of the tumultuous
+festivities of Silverton; so at twelve o'clock. Colonel Mohun drove the
+pony-carriage to meet the little trim Brownie who stepped out of the
+station, the porter carrying behind her a huge thing, long, and swathed
+in brown paper. 'It is quite light; it won't hurt,' she said, 'It must
+go with us. Put your legs across it, Regie. That's right.'
+
+'Then what becomes of yours?'
+
+'Mine can go anywhere,' said Miss Mohun, crumpling herself up in some
+mysterious manner under the fur rug, while they drove off, her luggage
+sticking far off on either side of the splashboard.
+
+'What, in the name of wonder, are you smuggling in there?'
+
+'If you must know, it is the body of a mummy over whose dissection you
+will have to assist.'
+
+'Ah! Rotherwood is coming.'
+
+'Rotherwood!'
+
+'And his little girl. Just like him. Lily gets a note this morning from
+London, telling her to telegraph if she can't have them by the 5.20
+train. I've just been ordering a fly. It seems that Lady Rotherwood,
+going to meet Ivinghoe at the station, coming from school, found he had
+measles coming out! So they packed off his sister to Beechcroft without
+having seen him, and thence Rotherwood took her to London.'
+
+'And is having a fine frolic with her, no doubt; but he might as well
+have given Lily more notice, considering that a marquess or two makes
+more difference to her household than it does to his.'
+
+'Oh! she is glad enough, only in some trepidation as to how Mrs.
+Halfpenny may receive the unspecified maid that the child may bring.'
+
+'How jolly we shall be! I wish Ada had come.'
+
+'I tried to drag her out, but it gets harder and harder to shake her up.
+You must come back with me and see her.'
+
+'I say, Jane, have you seen Maurice's child lately?'
+
+'Not very. She wouldn't come with the others last week.'
+
+'What do you think about her? I thought leaving her with Lily would
+have been the making of her. Indeed, I told Maurice there could not be a
+better brought up set anywhere than the Merrifields, and that Lily would
+mother her like one of her own; and now I find her moping about, looking
+regularly down in the mouth. I got hold of her one day and tried to find
+out what was the matter, but she only said she would not complain. Can
+they bully her?'
+
+'I'll tell you what, Maurice, Lily is a great deal too kind to her. She
+has a kind of temper that won't let them make friends with her.'
+
+'Come now! She was a nice jolly little girl at home. She and I have had
+no end of larks together, and it is hard to blame her for fretting after
+her home, poor child--Aye! I know you never liked her, or she might have
+done better with you and Ada than turned in among a lot of imps.'
+
+'I'm thankful it was otherwise!'
+
+'Now do, Jane, set your mind to it. Don't be prejudiced, but make those
+sharp eyes of some use. I really feel bound to give Maurice an account
+of Dolly, and tell him what is best for her.'
+
+'I believe,' said Jane, 'that there is some counter-influence at work,
+and I am trying to find it out; but, after all, I believe patience is
+the only thing, and that Lily will conquer her if nobody meddles.'
+
+''Tis not Lily I am afraid of, but her children.'
+
+'Nonsense, Regie; one would think you had never been turned loose into
+school to be licked into shape.'
+
+'She is a girl, not a cub like me.'
+
+'A worse cub, for she has not your temper, sir, and, moreover, you had
+had the wholesome discipline of a large family. Besides, nobody teases
+but Wilfred. Gillian and Mysie behave like angels to the tiresome puss.'
+
+'Well, I'm bound to believe you, Jenny, but I don't like the looks of
+it.'
+
+Aunt Jane's mysterious parcel was greeted rapturously, and conveyed into
+the dining-room, which had a semi-circular end, filled with glass,
+and capable of being shut off with heavy curtains when the season made
+snugness desirable. This bay had been set apart from the first for her
+operations, the tree, whose second season it was, having been taken up
+and already erected in the centre of the room, not much the worse for
+last year's excursion, for, if rather stunted, that was all the better.
+No one was excluded from the decoration thereof, since that was the best
+part of the sport to those too old for the mystery--and yet young enough
+to fasten sconces where their candles would infallibly set fire to the
+twigs above them. The only defaulters were Jasper, who had preferred
+going down to the meadows with his gun; and Dolores, who had retired
+to the drawing-room with a book, on having a paper star removed from
+immediate risk of conflagration. 'They were determined not to let her
+help,' she said.
+
+So she only emerged when the workers halted for a merry, hurried meal in
+the schoolroom, where Jasper appeared, very late, very cross at having
+had to make himself fit to be seen, and, likewise, at having brought
+home no spoil, the snipes having been so malicious as to escape him.
+Having sallied forth before the post came in, it was only now that it
+broke on him that visitors were expected, and he did not like it at all.
+
+'I thought we had got rid of all the enemy!' he growled, at his end of
+the table.
+
+'That's what he calls Constance.' thought Dolores.
+
+'Polite,' observed Gillian.
+
+'This will be worse still, being lord and ladies grumbled on Jasper, 'I
+hate swells.'
+
+'Oh! but these aren't like horrid, common, fine lords and ladies,' cried
+Mysie; 'why, you know all mamma's old stories about the fun they had
+with cousin Rotherwood.
+
+'What's the good of that! That's a hundred years ago. He'll just make
+mamma and Uncle Regie of no good at all! And then there's a girl too--'
+(in a tone of inconceivable disgust) 'I don't want strange girls--an
+awful stuck-up swell of a Londoner, not able to do anything! I wish I
+had gone to spend Christmas with Bruce! I would if I had known it was to
+be like this.'
+
+The speech brought Mysie to the verge of tears. Aunt Jane's sharp ears
+heard it, and she looked at the head of the table, expecting to hear a
+rebuke; but Lady Merrifield turned a deaf ear on that side. Only after
+the meal, she called her son, 'Jasper,' she said, 'I want to send a note
+to Redford, if you like to ride over with it. You need not come home
+till eight o'clock, if it is moonlight, it the boys are disengaged, and
+if you do really wish to keep out of the way.'
+
+Jasper's eyes fell under hers.
+
+'Mamma, I don't want that.'
+
+'Only you said more than you meant, Japs. If it relieves your mind, it
+hurts other people. But I do want the note taken, so go and come back in
+time for the sports; which I don't think you will find much damaged.'
+
+Meantime, Aunt Jane had ensconced herself behind the curtains; where she
+admitted no one but Miss Vincent and Uncle Reginald, and in process
+of time, mamma and Macrae. The others were still fully employed in
+garnishing the tree, though it was only to bear lights, ornaments and
+sweets. All solid articles had been for some time past committed to a
+huge box, or ottoman, the veteran companion of the family travels, which
+stood in the centre of the bay. Into its capacious interior everybody
+had been dropping parcels of various sizes and shapes, with addresses in
+all sorts of hands, which were to find their destination on this great
+evening. This was part of the mystery that kept Mysie and Valetta in one
+continual dance and caper. It was all they could do not to peep between
+the curtains when the privileged mortals went in and out, bearing all
+sorts of mysterious loads well covered up from all eyes. Wilfred did
+make one attempt, but something extraordinary snapped at his nose, with
+a sharp crack, and drove him back with a start.
+
+A lamp had been taken thither, and there really was nothing more to do
+to the tree, the scraps of packing had been picked up, and the hands,
+tingling from fir-needle pricks, had been washed, though not without
+protest from Valetta that it wasn't worth while, and from Wilfred that
+it was all along of these horrid swells--!
+
+The sound of wheels summoned Lady Merrifield and her brother from the
+place of mystery, and they were in the hall when a fresh gust of keen
+air came in from the door, an ulstered figure hurried in, and something
+small and furred was put into the lady's embrace.
+
+'Here's my Fly, Lily--! Look, Fly, here they all are--all the cousins.
+Off with the hat. Let us see your funny little face.'
+
+It was a funny little smiling face, set in short, light, wavy hair, not
+exactly pretty, but with a bright, quaint, confiding look, as if used to
+be shown off by her father, and ready to make friends on the spot. 'And
+how is your boy?' as the round of greetings was completed, and the wraps
+thrown off.
+
+'Going on capitally, better than he deserves, the young scamp, for
+suppressing all symptoms for fear he should be hindered from coming
+home. His mother was in a proper fright, she showed him to the doctor on
+the way, who told her to put him to bed at once, and send his sister out
+of the house. She never set eyes on him, or I would not have brought her
+here.'
+
+'I am exceedingly glad you have,' said Lady Merrifield, bending for
+another kiss.
+
+'And Lily, I've done another awful thing. Victoria kept old nurse to
+help with Ivinghoe, and we brought the Swiss bonne, Louise, away with
+us, but the poor thing found her sister very ill in London, and I hadn't
+the heart to bring her away, so Phyllis said she would do for herself,
+if your maid, or some of them, would have an eye to her.'
+
+'There! I'm doubly glad, Rotherwood! If I had any fears it was not of
+you, or Phyllis; but that like Vich Ian Vhor, she should have her tail
+on. And, oh! Rotherwood, do you know what you are in for?'
+
+'High jinks of some sort, I've no doubt. We picked up a couple of boxes
+at Gunter's and Miller's with a view thereto. Who is master of the
+revels?'
+
+'Jane. She's too deep in preparations to come forth at present. Gillian,
+will you take Phyllis to the nursery, and take care of her. We are to
+have a very high tea at half-past six; but, Rotherwood, I promise that
+another day you shall have a respectable dinner in this house.'
+
+'Return to the prose of life, eh, Lily? Well, Fly, what do you think of
+it?'
+
+'Oh, daddy, aren't you glad we came?' she cried, dancing off, in
+Gillian's wake, arm-in-arm with Mysie and Valetta, while he called after
+her, 'Find the boxes, and make them over to the right quarter.'
+
+This was enough to make the whole bevy of children rush away, and only
+the three elders remained. Lord Rotherwood said, 'This is short notice.
+Lily; but I did not know Reginald was here, and I thought you might want
+help. Don't be frightened, only a queer thing has happened. I went to
+W.'s bank yesterday. I thought they looked at me as if something was
+up, and by-and-by one of the partners came and took me into his private
+room. There he showed me a cheque, and asked my opinion whether the
+writing was Maurice's. And I should say it decidedly was, but it was
+actually for seventy pounds, payable to order of Miss Dolores M. Mohun.'
+
+'Seventy!'
+
+'Yes, and dated the 19th of August.'
+
+'Just before Maurice went.'
+
+There was a sudden silence, for the door opened; but it was to admit
+Miss Mohun, who began, 'Oh! Rotherwood, you are too munificent. Why,
+what's the matter?' Lady Merrifield hastily explained, as far as she yet
+understood, what had brought him.
+
+'How did they get the cheque?' she asked.
+
+'Sent up from the country bank where it had been cashed--Darminster.'
+
+'Ah!' came from both the aunts.
+
+Lord Rotherwood went on. 'They asked me who Miss Dolores Mohun was, and
+I could do no otherwise than tell them, and likewise where to find her,
+but I explained that she is a mere child; and I told them I would come
+down here, so I hope you will have as little annoyance as possible.'
+
+'It is very good of you, Rotherwood, but I can't understand it at all.
+Was her name on the back?'
+
+'Certainly; I told them I thought the whole thing must be a well got up
+forgery, and a confidential clerk was to go down today to Darminster to
+try to find out who gave it in there.'
+
+'Darminster! Flinders!' ejaculated Miss Mohun.
+
+'Regie,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield; 'what did you say about having seen
+some one like Dolores at Darminster station?'
+
+'I was nearly jumping out after her. I should have said it was herself,
+if it had not been impossible. Why she was with you at Rockstone, and it
+was a pouring, dripping day,' said the colonel.
+
+'No, she was not. She begged to spend the day with Constance Hacket, and
+we picked her up as we came home. Poor child, what has she been doing? I
+have not looked after her properly.'
+
+'But need she have had anything to do with it?' said Colonel Mohun. 'How
+should a cheque of Maurice's come into her possession?'
+
+'She did tell me,' said Lady Merrifield,' that her father had left one
+with her to pay for some German scientific book that might be sent for
+him.'
+
+'I see, then!' cried Miss Mohun. 'That wretch Flinders must have got
+into communication with her, and induced her to fill up her father's
+cheque for him.'
+
+'But why should it be Flinders?' said Lord Rotherwood.
+
+'Jane found out that he is living at Darminster, and has been trying to
+put me on my guard,' returned Lady Merrifield.
+
+'It is all that fellow Flinders, depend upon it,' said Colonel Mohun.
+'He is quite capable of it, and you'll find poor Dolly has nothing to
+do with it. Quite preposterous. And look here, Lily, let the poor child
+alone to enjoy herself tonight. Most likely Rotherwood's clerk, or
+detective, or whatever he may be, will have ferreted out the rights of
+the matter at Darminster. I sincerely hope he will, and have Flinders
+in custody, and then you would have upset her and accused her all for
+nothing.'
+
+'I am glad you think so, Regie,' said Lady Merrifield. 'I am thankful
+enough to wait, and hope it will be explained without spoiling the
+children's evening.'
+
+'All right,' said the visitor; 'I only hope I have not spoilt yours.'
+
+'Oh! one learns to throw things off. I shall believe it is all Flinders,
+and none of it the child's,' said Lady Merrifield, carefully avoiding
+a glance that could show her any gesture of dissent on the part of her
+sister, and only looking up for her brother's nod of approval. 'Besides,
+how foolish it would be to worry myself when I have two such protectors!
+It was very good in you, Rotherwood, I only hope we shall take good care
+of your Fly, and that her mother will be satisfied about her.'
+
+'She knew the little woman and I should have a lark together,' said he.
+'The governess was safe out of reach, holiday-making, so I could have
+her all to myself. Victoria suggested her brother's, and we must go
+there before we have done, but business and the pantomime by good luck
+took us to London first. So when I wrote to you from the bank, I also
+let her know that I was obliged to take the little woman down here
+first. I couldn't take her to High Court till Louise is available
+again.'
+
+'So much the better, I'm sure.'
+
+'And what I was going to say is, that Rotherwood has been startlingly
+munificent and splendid,' said Aunt Jane. 'We shall have a set of new
+surprises.'
+
+'I don't in the least know what I brought. I only told each of them to
+put up such a box as they sent out for Christmas concerns. Do precisely
+what you please with them.'
+
+'Come and see, Lily, for I think there will be enough to reserve a fresh
+lot of things for Miss Hacket's affair. By-the-by, Regie, did you say it
+rained at Darminster?'
+
+'Poured all the way down.'
+
+'Well, we had it quite fine.'
+
+'Was it fine here?'
+
+'Yes, certainly,' said Lady Merrifield,' or Primrose would not have gone
+out. Take care of Rotherwood, Regie. You know his room.'
+
+And the two sisters crossed the hall, where the 'very high tea' was
+being laid; hearing from the regions above sounds of exquisite glee and
+merriment, as perfect and almost as inexpressive of anything else as the
+singing of birds, so that they themselves could not help answering with
+a laugh, before they vanished into the chamber of mystery.
+
+Indeed, Phyllis's conversation was like a fairy tale. Her brother's
+illness, which was not enough to damp any one's spirits, had prevented
+or hindered a grand children's party as the Butterfly's Ball, where she
+was to have been the Butterfly, and Lord Ivinghoe the Grasshopper, and
+all the children were to appear as one of the characters in Roscoe's
+pretty poem. Never was anything more delightful to the imagination of
+the little cousins, and they could not marvel enough at her seeming so
+little uneasy about anything so charming, and quite ready and eager
+to throw herself headlong into all their present enjoyments, making
+wonderful surmises as to the mystery in preparation.
+
+Dolores heard the laughing, and it did not suit with her vaguely uneasy
+and injured frame of mind; feeling dreadfully lonely too, as she came
+downstairs, dressed for the evening, but not knowing where to go, for
+the dining-room was engrossed, the schoolroom was dark and the fire out,
+the drawing-room occupied by the two gentlemen. She crouched down in
+one of the big arm-chairs on either side of the hearth in the hall, and
+began to read by the firelight. Presently Jasper came in from his ride,
+and began taking off his greatcoat, leggings, and boots, whistling as he
+did so, then, perceiving the tempting object of a black leg sticking out
+of the chair, he stole up across the soft carpet, and caught hold of the
+ankle. He received a vigorous kick in return (which perhaps he expected)
+but what he did not expect was the black figure that rose up in outraged
+dignity and indignation. 'For shame! I won't be insulted!'
+
+'Whew! I thought 'twas Val! I beg your pardon.'
+
+'I shall ask my aunt if I am to be insulted.'
+
+'Well, if you choose to take it in that way--A man can't do more than
+beg pardon! I'm sure I would never have presumed to touch you if I had
+known it was your Dolorousness.'
+
+And he turned to walk away, just as the babbling ripple of laughter
+began to flow downstairs, and a whole mass of little girls intertwined
+together was descending. 'I always hop,' said a voice new to him,
+'except on the great staircase, and mother doesn't like it there. But
+this is such a jolly stair. Can't you hop?'
+
+Hopping in a threefold embrace on a slippery stair was hardly a safe
+pastime, and before Jasper had time to utter more than' Holloa there!
+take care!' there descended suddenly on him an avalanche of little
+girls, 'knocking him off his feet, so that all promiscuously rolled down
+two or three steps together. Fergus and Primrose, who had somehow been
+holding on behind,' remained upright, but nevertheless screaming. The
+shrieks of the fallen were, however, laughter. There was a soft rug
+below, and by the time the gentlemen had rushed out of the dining-room,
+and the ladies from the curtained recess, giggling below and legs above
+were chiefly apparent.
+
+'Any one hurt?' was of course Lady Merrifield's cry.
+
+'Oh no, mamma. Only we are so mixed up we can't get up,' called out
+Mysie.
+
+'Is this arm you or me?' exclaimed Phyllis, following up the joke.
+
+'Come, sort yourselves, ladies and gentlemen,' said Lord Rotherwood.
+'What's this, a Fly's wing?'
+
+'No, it's mine,' cried Val, as his hand pulled her out, and the others
+extricated themselves, still laughing, go that they could hardly stand,
+and Fly declaring, 'Oh, daddy, daddy, it is such fun! I am so glad we
+came,' and taking a gratuitous leap into the air.
+
+'Every one to her taste,' said Lady Merrifield, 'I congratulate those to
+whom a compound tumble-down-stairs is felicity.'
+
+'She has found her congenial element, you see,' said her father, as the
+elders proceeded upstairs to their toilette.' 'Tis laughing-gas with her
+to be with other children, and the most laughingest of all are naturally
+yours, old Lily.'
+
+Meanwhile Jasper, risen on his stocking soles, looked all over at the
+little figure, dressed old picture fashion, in the simplest white frock
+with blue sash, and short-cut hair tied back with blue.
+
+'Well, you are a jolly little girl,' he said, 'and a cool customer, too!
+What do you mean by knocking a fellow over the first time you see him?'
+
+'And what do you mean by coming like a great--huge--big elephant in our
+way to stop up the stairs?' demanded Fly, in return.
+
+'Do you mean to insinivate that 'twas I that made you fall?' said
+Jasper--'I, that was quietly walking up the stairs, when down there came
+on me a shower--not cats and dogs, but worserer, far worserer! Why, I'm
+kilt! my nose is flat as a pancake, I shan't recover my beauty all the
+evening for the great swells that are coming.'
+
+'Jasper, Japs,' called his mother's warning voice, 'you must come up and
+dress, for tea is going in.'
+
+He obeyed, rushing two steps at a time; but meeting, at the bottom of
+the attic flight, his sister Gillian, he demanded, 'Gill, what awfully
+jolly little girl have they got down there?'
+
+'Why, Fly, of course, Lady Phyllis Devereux--'
+
+'No, no, nothing swell, a comical little soul, with no nonsense about
+her, in a white thing.'
+
+'Well, that's Phyllis. There's no one else there.'
+
+'I say. Gill, 'tis like sunshine and clouds. She and the other, I mean.
+Why, I gave a little pull to a foot I saw in the armchair, thinking
+it belonged to Val, and out breaks my Lady of the Rueful Countenance,
+vowing she'll complain that I've insulted her; and as to the other, the
+whole lot of them tumbled over me together on the stairs, and she did
+nothing but laugh and chaff.'
+
+'I hope she is not a romp,' said the staid Gillian, sagely, as she went
+downstairs.
+
+But on that score she was soon satisfied. Phyllis Devereux was a
+thorough little lady, wild and merry as she was, and enchanted to be
+in the rare fairyland of child companionship. And that indeed she
+had, Mysie and Valetta, between whose ages she stood, hung to
+her inseparably, and Jasper was quite transformed from his grim
+superciliousness into her devoted knight. At tea-time there was a
+competition for the seats next to her, determined by Valetta's taking
+one side, in right of the birthday, and Jasper the other, because he
+secured it, and Mysie gave way to him because he was Japs, and she
+always did. While Dolores laid up a store of moralizings on the
+adulation paid to the little lady of title, and at the same time
+speculated what concatenation of circumstances could ever make her Lady
+Dolores Mohun. On the whole, it would be more likely that her father
+should gain a peerage by putting down a Fijian rebellion than that it
+should be discovered that his mother, Lady Emily, had been the true
+heiress of the marquessate, and even so, an uncomfortable number of
+people must be disposed of before it could come to him. She had one
+consolation, however, for Uncle Reginald, always kind to her, was
+particularly affectionate this evening, as if he would not have that
+little foolish Fly set up before her.
+
+The tea and the tree both went off joyously. There is no need to
+describe the spectacle to folks who can count their Christmas-trees by
+the years of their life and the memorable part of this one was that much
+of the fruit that had been left hanging on it was now metamorphosed
+into something much more gorgeous--oranges had become eggs full of
+sugar-plums, gutta-percha monkeys grinned on the branches, golden
+flowers had sprung to life on the ends of the twigs, a lovely jewel-like
+lantern crowned the whole, and as to sweets, everybody--servants and
+all--had some delightful devices containing them, whether drum, bird, or
+bird's nest.
+
+Before the distribution was over, it was observed that Aunt Jane and
+Uncle Reginald, also Harry, had vanished from the scene. There was a
+pause, during which such tapers as began to burn perilously low, were
+extinguished, an operation as delightful apparently as the fixing them.
+Presently a horn was heard, and a start or shudder of mysterious ecstasy
+pervaded the audience, as a tall figure came through the curtains, and
+announced:
+
+'Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honour to inform you that a fresh
+discovery has been made in the secret chambers of the Pyramid of Chops,
+otherwise known as Te-Gun-Ter-ra. A mummy has been disinterred, which
+is about to be opened by the celebrated Egyptologist, Herr Professor
+Freudigfeldius, who has likewise discovered the means of making such
+a conjuration of the Sphynx that she will not only summon each of the
+present company by name, but will require of each of them to reply to a
+question. The penalty of a refusal is well known!'
+
+Therewith the curtains were drawn back, and a scene was presented which
+made some of the spectators start. Behind was the semblance of a wall
+marked with the joints of large stones, and lighted (apparently) with
+two brass lamps. On the floor lay extended an enormous mummy, with the
+regulation canvas case, and huge flaps of ears, between which appeared
+a small, painted face, and below lay a long, gaily coloured scroll in
+hieroglyphics. Exalted stiffly in a seat placed on a seeming block of
+stone, was a figure, with elbows, as it were glued to its sides, and
+hands crossed, altogether stone-coloured and monumental, and with the
+true Sphynx head, surrounded with beetles, lizards, and other mystic
+creatures (very chocolate-coloured). And beside her stood the Herr
+Professor, in a red fez, long dark gown, and spectacles, a flowing
+beard concealing the rest of his face. How delightful to see such an
+Egyptologist! Even though one perfectly knew the family beard and
+fez; also that the gown was papa's old dressing-gown, captured for the
+theatrical wardrobe. And how grand to hear him speak, even though his
+broken English continually became more vernacular.
+
+'Liebes Herrschaft,' he began, 'I would, nobles, gentry, and ladies say.
+You here see the embalmed rests of the celebrated monarch Nic-nac-ci-no.
+Lately up have I them graben, and likewise his tutelar Sphynx have
+found, and have even to give signs of animation compelled.'
+
+Touching the effigy with his wand, she emitted certain growls and
+hisses, which made Primrose hide her face in alarm at anything so
+uncanny, and Lord Rotherwood observe--
+
+'Nearly related to the cat-goddess Pasht; I thought so.'
+
+'There was something of the lion or cat in the Sphynx,' said Gillian,
+gravely, while the three little girls clasped each other's hands with
+delightful thrills of awe and expectation.
+
+'Observe,' continued the Professor, 'the outer case with the features of
+the deceased is painted. I should conclude that King Nic-nac, etcetera,
+had been of a peculiarly jolly--I mean frolich--nature, judging by the
+grin on his face. We proceed--'
+
+As he laid his hand on the wrapper, the Sphynx gave utterance to sounds
+so like the bad language of a cat that some looked round for one. The
+Professor waved at her, and she subsided. He turned back the covering,
+and demanded, 'Will the amiable Fraulein there. Mademoiselle Valetta,
+come and see what treasures she can discover in the secrets of the
+tomb?'
+
+Val, who in right of her birthday, had expected the first call, jumped
+up, but the Sphynx made awful noises as she advanced, and the Professor
+explained that she would have to answer the Sphynx's question first.
+
+'But I don't know Egyptian,' she observed.
+
+'Never mind, it will sound like English.'
+
+It did so, for it was, 'How many months old art thou, maiden?'
+
+Val's arithmetic was slightly scared. She clasped her hand nervously,
+and was indebted to the Professor for the sotto voce hint, 'twelve
+nines,' before she uttered 'a hundred and eight.'
+
+The Sphynx relapsed into stoniness, and the Herr Professor guided the
+hands, which trembled a little, to the interior of the mummy, whence
+they drew out a basket, labelled (wonderful to relate) 'Val,'
+and containing--oh! such treasures, a blue egg full of needlework
+implements, a new book, an Indian ivory case, a skipping-rope, a
+shuttlecock, and other delights past description. The exhibition of them
+was only beginning when the Professor called for Primrose, who was too
+much frightened to come alone, and therefore was permitted to be brought
+by Mrs. Halfpenny. The Sphynx was particularly amiable on this occasion,
+and only asked 'When Primroses came?' and as the little one, in her shy
+fright did not reply, nurse did so, with, 'Come, missie, can't you find
+a word to tell that mamma's Primrose came in spring.' This was allowed
+to pass, and Mrs. Halfpenny bore off her child, clutching a doll's
+cradle, stuffed with pretty things, and for herself a bundle wrapped up
+in a shawl from Sir Jasper himself.
+
+After Primrose was gone to bed, the Sphynx became much more ill-tempered
+and demonstrative, snarling considerably at the approach of some of
+the party, some of whom replied with convulsive laughter, some, such
+as Jasper, with demonstrations of 'poking up the Sphynx.' She had a
+question for everybody--Fly was asked, 'Which was best, a tree or a
+Butterfly's ball?' and answered, with truthful politeness, that where
+Mysie and Val were was best of all. She carried off a collection that
+had hastily been made of Indian curiosities, photographs of her two
+friends, and a book; and her father, after being asked, 'What was
+the best of insects?' and replying, 'On the whole, I think it is my
+housefly, even when she isn't a butterfly,' received a letter-weight
+of brass, fashioned like an enormous fly, which Lady Merrifield had
+snatched up from the table for the purpose. The maids giggled at the
+well-known conundrums proposed to them, and Dolores had a very easy
+question--' What was the weather this day week?'
+
+'A horrid wet day,' she promptly answered, and found herself endowed
+with a parcel containing some of the best presents of all, bangles from
+the Indian box, a beautiful pair of stork-like scissors, a writing-case,
+etc.
+
+'The Sphynx's invention is running low,' observed Jasper to Gillian,
+when the creature put the same question about last week's weather to
+Herbert, the page-boy, as a prelude to his discovering the treasures of
+the mummy, as a knife and an umbrella. His view of the weather was that
+it was 'A fine day ma'am! yes, a fine day.'
+
+Macrae came last, and the Sphynx asked him which of the two contrary
+views was right.
+
+'It was fine, ma'am, that I know. For I walked down with nurse, and
+little Miss Primrose into Silverton, to help to carry her in case she
+was tired, and we never had occasion to put up an umbrella.'
+
+Wherewith Macrae received his combination of gifts and retired; the
+mummy being completely rifled, and the construction of the body, a frame
+of light, open wicker-work, revealed. Aunt Jane had had it made at the
+basketmaker's, while as to the head and covering, her own ingenious
+fingers had painted and fashioned them. Everybody had to look at
+everybody's presents, a lengthened operation, and then there was a
+splendid game at blindman's-buff in the hall, in which all the elders
+joined, except mamma, who had to go and sit in the nursery with the
+restless and excited Primrose while Mrs. Halfpenny and Lots went down to
+the servants' festivity.
+
+When she came down again, it was to quiet the tempest of merriment,
+and send off the younger folks in succession to bed, till only the four
+elders and Hal remained on the scene, waiting till there was reason to
+think the household would be ready for prayers.
+
+'It was Dolores that you saw at Darminster, Reginald,' said Miss Mohun,
+quietly.
+
+'You Sphynx woman, how do you know?'
+
+'You said it was raining at Darminster.'
+
+'Yes, that it was, everywhere beyond the tunnel through the Darfield
+hills.'
+
+'Exactly, I know they make a line in the rainfall. Well, here it was
+dry, but Dolores called it a wet day.'
+
+'Now I call that too bad, Jane, to lay a trap for the poor child in the
+game,' cried Colonel Mohun, just as if they had still been boy and girl
+together.
+
+'It was to satisfy my own mind,' she said, colouring a little. 'I didn't
+want any one to act on it. Indeed, I think there will be no occasion.'
+
+'Besides,' he added, 'it is nothing to go upon! No doubt, if it wasn't
+raining, it was the next thing to it here, and bow was she to recollect
+at this distance of time? I won't have her caught out in that way!'
+
+'I am glad she has a champion, Regie,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Here come
+the servants.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. -- A CYPHER AND A TY.
+
+
+
+Dolores was coming down to breakfast the next morning when Colonel
+Mohun's door opened. He exclaimed, 'My little Dolly, good morning!'
+stooped down and kissed her.
+
+Then, standing still a moment, and holding her hand, he said--
+
+'Dolly, it was not you I saw at Darminster station?'
+
+It was a terrible shock. Some one, no doubt, was trying to set him
+against her. And should she betray Constance and her uncle? At any rate,
+almost before she knew what she was saying, 'No, Uncle Regie,' was out
+of her mouth, and her conscience was being answered with 'How do I know
+it was me that he saw? these fur capes are very common.'
+
+'I thought not,' he answered, kindly. 'Look here, Dolly, I want one word
+with you. Did your father ever leave anything in charge with you for Mr.
+Flinders? Did he ever speak to you about him?'
+
+'Never,' Dolores truly answered.
+
+'Because, my dear, though it's a hard thing to say, and your poor mother
+felt bound to him, he is a slippery fellow--a scamp, in fact, and if
+ever he writes to you here, you had better send the letter straight off
+to me, and I'll see what's to be done. He never has, I suppose?'
+
+'No,' said Dolores, answering the word here, and foolishly feeling the
+involvement too great, and Constance too much concerned in it for her
+to confess to her uncle what had really happened. Indeed, the first
+falsehood held her to the second; and there was no more time, for Lord
+Rotherwood was coming out of his room further down the passage. And
+after the greetings, as she went downstairs before the two gentlemen,
+she was sure she heard Uncle Regie say, 'She's all right.' What could it
+mean? Was a storm averted? or was it brewing? Could that spiteful Aunt
+Jane and her questions about the weather be at the bottom of it?
+
+The fun that was going on at breakfast seemed a mere roar of folly to
+her, and she had an instinct of nothing but getting away to Constance.
+She soon found that there would be opportunity enough, for the tree was
+to be taken down in a barrow, and all the youthful world was to carry
+down the decorations in baskets, and help to put them on. She dashed off
+among the first to put on her things, and then was disappointed to
+find that first all the pets were to be fed and shown off to Fly, who
+appreciated them far more than she had done--knew how to lay hold of a
+rabbit, nursed the guinea-pigs and puppies in turn, and was rapturous in
+her acceptance of two young guinea-pigs and one puppy.
+
+'I can keep them up in daddy's dressing-room while we are at High Court,
+and it will be such fun,' she said.
+
+'Will he let you?' asked Gillian, in some doubt.
+
+'Oh! daddy will always let me, and so will Griffin--his man, you know,
+only we left him in London because daddy said he would be in your
+butler's way, but I can't think why. Griffin would have helped about the
+tree and learnt to make a mummy when we have our party. Louise would not
+let me have them in the nursery, I know, but daddy and Griffin would,
+and I could go and feed them in the morning before breakfast. Griffin
+would get me bran! That is, if we do go to High Court; I wish we were to
+stay on here. There's nobody to play with at High Court, and grandpapa
+always keeps daddy talking politics, so that I can hardly ever get him!
+Mysie, whatever do you do with your father away in India?'
+
+'Yes, it is horrid. But then, there's mamma,' said Mysie, whispering,
+however, as she saw Dolores near, and feared to hurt her feelings.
+
+'Ah!' said Fly, with a tender little shake of her head; ''tis worse for
+her to have no mother at all! Is that why she looks so sad?'
+
+'Cross' is the word,' said Wilfred. 'I can't think what she is come
+bothering down here for!'
+
+'Oh! for shame, Wilfred!' said Fly. 'You should be sorry for her.' And
+she went up to Dolores, and by way of doing the kindest thing in the
+world, said--
+
+'Here's my new puppy. Is not he a dear? I'll let you hold him,' and she
+attempted to deposit the fat, curly, satiny creature in Dolores's arms,
+which instantly hung down stiff, as she answered, half in fright, 'I
+hate dogs!' The puppy fell down with a flop, and began to squeak, while
+the girls, crying, 'Oh! Dolly, how could you!' and 'Poor little pup!'
+all crowded round in pity and indignation, and Wilfred observed, 'I told
+you so!'
+
+'You'll get no change but that out of the Lady of the Rueful
+Countenance,' said Jasper.
+
+Mysie had for once nothing to say in Dolores's defence, being equally
+hurt for Fly's sake and the puppy's. Dolores found herself virtually
+sent to Coventry, as she accompanied the party across the paddock,
+only just near enough to benefit by their protection from the herd of
+half-grown calves which were there disporting themselves; and, as if to
+make the contrast still more provoking, Fly, who had a natural affinity
+for all animals, insisted on trying to attract them, calling, 'Sukkey!
+sukkey!' and hold out bunches of grass, in vain, for they only galloped
+away, and she could only explain how tame those at home were, and how
+she went out farming with daddy whenever he had time, and mother and
+Fraulein would let her out.
+
+The tree meantime came trundling down, a wonderful spectacle, with all
+its gilt balls and fir-cones nodding and dangling wildly, and its other
+embellishments turning upside down. There were greetings of delight at
+Casement Cottage, and Miss Hacket had kissed everybody all round before
+Gillian had time to present the new-comer, and then the good lady was
+shocked at her own presumption, and exclaimed--
+
+'I beg your ladyship's pardon! Dear me! I had no notion who it was!'
+
+'Then please kiss me again now you do know!' said Fly, holding up her
+funny little face to that very lovable kind one, and they were all soon
+absorbed in the difficulty of getting the tree in at the front door, and
+setting it up in the room that had been prepared for it.
+
+Dolores had hoped to confide her alarms to Constance's sympathetic
+ear, but her friend, who had written and dreamt of many a magnificently
+titled scion of the peerage, but had never before seen one in her own
+house, had not a minute to spare for her, being far too much engrossed
+in observing the habits of the animal. These certainly were peculiar,
+since she insisted on a waltz round the room with the tabby cat, and
+ascended a step-ladder, merrily spurning Jasper's protection, to insert
+the circle of tapers on the crowning chandelier. There was nothing left
+for Dolores to do but to sit by in the window-seat, philosophizing on
+the remarkable effects of a handle to one's name, and feeling cruelly
+neglected.
+
+Suddenly she saw a fly coming up to the gate. There was a general
+peeping and wondering. Then Uncle Reginald and a stranger got out and
+came up to the door. There was a ring--everybody paused and wondered for
+a moment; then the maid tapped at the door and said, 'Would Miss Mohun
+come and speak to Colonel Mohun a minute in the drawing-room?'
+
+There was a hush of dread throughout the room. 'Ah!' sighed Miss Hacket,
+looking at Gillian, and all the elders thought without saying that some
+terrible news of her father had to be told to the poor child. They let
+her go, frightened at the summons, but that idea not occurring to her.
+
+'There!' said Uncle Regie, 'she can set it straight. Don't be
+frightened, my dear; only tell this gentleman whether that is your
+writing.'
+
+The stranger held a strip so that she could only just see 'Dolores M.
+Mohun,' and she unhesitatingly answered 'Yes'--very much surprised.
+
+'You are sure?' said her uncle, in a tone of disappointment that made
+her falter, as she added, 'I think so.' At the same time the stranger
+turned the paper round, and she knew it for the cheque that had so
+long resided in her desk, but with dilated eyes, she exclaimed,
+'But--but--that was for seven pounds!'
+
+'That,' said the stranger, 'then, Miss Mohun, you know this draft?'
+
+'Only it was for seven,' repeated Dolores.
+
+'You mean, I conclude, that it was drawn for seven pounds, and that it
+was still for seven when it left your handy?'
+
+'Yes,' muttered Dolores, who was beginning to get very much frightened,
+at she knew not what, and to feel on her guard at all points.
+
+'There's nothing to be afraid of, my dear,' said Uncle Reginald,
+tenderly; 'nobody suspects you of anything. Only tell us. Did your
+father give you this paper?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'And when did you cash it?' asked the clerk.
+
+Dolores hung her head. 'I didn't,' she said.
+
+'But how did it get out of your possession?' said her uncle. 'You are
+sure this is your own writing at the back. It could surely not have been
+stolen from her?' he added to the stranger.
+
+'That could hardly be,' said that person. 'Miss Mohun, you had better
+speak out. To whom did you give this cheque?'
+
+There was a whirl of terror all round about Dolores, a horror of
+bringing herself first, then Uncle Alfred, Constance, and everybody else
+into trouble. She took refuge in uttering not a word.
+
+'Dolores,' said her uncle, and his tone was now much more grave and less
+tender, thus increasing her terror; 'this silence is of no use. Did you
+give this cheque to Mr. Flinders?'
+
+In the silence, the ticks of the clock on the mantel-piece seemed like a
+hammer beating on her ears. Dolores thought of the morning's flat denial
+of all intercourse with Flinders! Then the word give occurred to her
+as a loophole, and her mind did not embrace all the consequences of
+the denial, she only saw one thing at a time, 'I didn't give it,' she
+answered, almost inaudibly.
+
+'You did not give it?' repeated her uncle, getting angry and speaking
+loud. 'Then how did it get into his hands? Is there no truth in you?' he
+added, after a pause, which only terrified her more and more. 'Whom did
+you give it to?'
+
+'Constance!' The word came out she hardly knew how, as something which
+at least was true. Colonel Mohun knocked at the door of the room she
+had come from. It was instantly opened, and Miss Hacket began, 'The poor
+dear! Can I get anything for her, I am sure it is a terrible shock!'
+and as he stood, astonished, Gillian added, 'Oh! I see it isn't that. We
+were afraid it was something about Uncle Maurice.'
+
+'No, my dear, no such thing. Only would Miss Constance Hacket be kind
+enough to come here a minute?'
+
+'Oh! My apron! My fingers! Excuse me for being such a figure!' Constance
+ran on, as Colonel Mohun made her come across to the room opposite,
+where she looked about her in amazement. Was the stranger a publisher
+about to make her an offer for the 'Waif of the Moorland.' But Dolores's
+down-cast attitude and set, sullen face forbade the idea.
+
+'Miss Constance Hacket,' said the colonel, 'here is an uncomfortable
+matter in which we want your assistance. Will you kindly answer a
+question or two from Mr. Ellis, the manager of the.... Bank?'
+
+Then the manager politely asked her if she had seen the cheque before.
+
+'Yes--why--what's wrong about it? Oh! It is for seventy! Why, Dolores, I
+thought it was only for seven?'
+
+'It was for seven when you parted with it, then, Miss Hacket,' said the
+manager; 'let me ask whether you changed it yourself?'
+
+'No,' she said, 'I sent it to--' and there she came to a dead pause, in
+alarm.
+
+'Did you send it to Mr. Alfred Flinders?' said Mr. Ellis.
+
+'Yes--oh!' another little scream, 'He can't have done it. He can't be
+such a villain! Your own uncle, Dolores.'
+
+'He is no uncle of Dolores Mohun!' said the colonel. 'He is only the son
+of her mother's step-mother by her first marriage.'
+
+'Oh, Dolores, then you deceived me!' exclaimed Constance; 'you told
+me he was your own uncle, or I would never--and oh! my fifteen pounds.
+Where is he?'
+
+'That, madam,' said Mr. Ellis, gravely, 'I hope the police may discover.
+He has quitted Darminster after having cashed this cheque for seventy
+pounds. We have already telegraphed to the police to be on the look out
+for him, but I much fear that it will be too late.'
+
+'Oh! my fifteen pounds! What shall I do? Oh, Dolores, how could you? I
+shall never trust any one again!'
+
+Perhaps Uncle Reginald felt the same, but he only darted a look upon his
+niece, which she felt in every nerve, though to his eyes she only stood
+hard and stolid. The manager, who found Constance's torrent of words
+as hard to deal with as Dolores's silence, asked for pen and ink, and
+begged to take down Miss Hacket's statement to lay before a magistrate
+in case of Flinders's apprehension. It was not very easy to keep her
+to the point, especially as her chief interest was in her own fifteen
+pounds, of which Mr. Ellis only would say that she could prosecute the
+man for obtaining money on false pretences, and this she trusted meant
+getting it back again. As to the cheque in question, she told how
+Dolores had entrusted it to her to send to her supposed uncle, Mr.
+Flinders, to whom it had been promised the day they went to Darminster,
+and she was quite ready to depose that when it left her hands, it was
+only for seven pounds.
+
+This was all that the bank manager wanted. He thanked her, told Colonel
+Mohun they should hear from him, and went off in a hurry, both to
+communicate with the police, and to leave the young ladies to be dealt
+with by their friends, who, he might well suppose, would rather that he
+removed himself.
+
+'Put on your hat, Dolores,' said Colonel Mohun, gravely; 'you had better
+come home with me! Miss Hacket, excuse me, but I am afraid I must ask
+whether you have been assisting in a correspondence between my niece and
+this Flinders?'
+
+'Oh! Colonel Mohun, you will believe me, I was quite deceived. Dolores
+represented that he was her uncle, to whom she was much attached,
+and that Lady Merrifield separated her from him out of mere family
+prejudice.'
+
+'I am afraid you have paid dearly for your sympathy,' said the colonel.
+'It certainly led you far when you assisted your friend to deceive the
+aunt who trusted you with her.'
+
+The movement that was taking place seemed like licence to that roomful,
+burning with curiosity to break out. Mysie was running after Dolores to
+ask if she could do anything for her, but Colonel Mohun called her back
+with 'Not now, Mysie.' Miss Hacket came forward with agitated hopes that
+nothing was amiss, and, at sight of her, Constance collapsed quite. 'Oh,
+Mary,' she cried out, 'I have been so deceived! Oh! that man!' and she
+sunk upon a chair in a violent fit of crying, which alarmed Miss Hacket
+so dreadfully that she looked imploringly up to Colonel Mohun. He
+had meant to have left Miss Constance to explain, but he saw it was
+necessary to relieve the poor elder sister's mind from worse fears by
+saying, 'I am afraid it is my niece who deceived her, by leading her
+into forwarding letters and money to a person who calls himself a
+relation. He seems to have been guilty of a forgery, which may have
+unpleasant consequences. Children, I think you had better follow us
+home.'
+
+Dolores had come down by this time, and Colonel Mohun walked home, at
+some paces from her, very much as if he had been guarding a criminal
+under arrest. Poor Uncle Reginald! He had put such absolute trust in the
+two answers she had made him in the morning; and had been so sure of her
+good faith, that when the manager brought word that the cheque had
+been traced to Flinders, who had absconded, he still held that it was
+a barefaced forgery, entirely due to Flinders himself, and that Dolores
+could show that she had no knowledge of it, and he had gone down in the
+fly expecting to come home triumphant, and confute his sister Jane,
+who persisted in being mournfully sagacious. And he was indignant in
+proportion to the confidence he had misplaced; grieved, too, for his
+brother's sake, and absolutely ashamed.
+
+Once he asked, when they were within the paddock, out of the way of
+meeting any one, 'Have you nothing to say to me, Dolores?'
+
+It was not said in a manner to draw out an answer, and she made none at
+all.
+
+Again he spoke, as they came near the house:
+
+'You had better go up to your room at once. I do not know how to think
+of the blow this will be to your father.'
+
+It was so entirely what Dolores was thinking of, that it seemed to
+her barbarous to tell her of it In fact she was stunned, scarcely
+understanding what had happened, and too proud and miserable to ask for
+an explanation, for had not every one turned against her, even Uncle
+Reginald and Constance--and what had happened to that cheque?
+
+She did not see Uncle Reginald turn into the drawing-room, and letting
+himself drop despairingly into an armchair, say, 'Well, Jane, you were
+right, more's the pity!'
+
+'She really gave him the cheque!'
+
+'Yes, but at least it was only for seven. The rascal himself must have
+altered it into seventy. She and the other girl both agree as to that.
+There's been a clandestine correspondence going on with that scamp
+ever since she has been here, under cover to that precious friend of
+hers--that Hacket girl.'
+
+'Ah! you warned me, Jenny,' said Lady Merrifield 'But I'm quite sure
+Miss Hacket knew nothing of it.'
+
+'I don't suppose she did. She seemed struck all of a heap. Any way
+they've quarrelled now; the other one has turned King's evidence--has
+lost some money too, and says Dolores deceived her. She's deceived every
+one all round, that's the fact. Why she told me two flat lies this very
+morning--lies--there's no other name for it. What will you do with her,
+Lily?'
+
+'I don't know,' said Lady Merrifield, utterly shocked, and recollecting,
+but not mentioning, the falsehood told to her about the note. Lord
+Rotherwood said, 'Poor child,' and Colonel Mohun groaned, 'Poor
+Maurice.'
+
+'Then she did go to Darminster?' said Miss Mohun.
+
+'Yes; that came out from this Miss Constance, who seems to have been
+properly taken in about some publishing trash. Serve her right! But
+it seems Dolores beguiled her with stories about her dear uncle in
+distress. We left her nearly in hysterics, and I told the children to
+come away.'
+
+'What does Dolores say?' asked Jane.
+
+'Nothing! I could not get a word out of her after the first surprise at
+the alteration of the cheque. Not a word nor a tear. She is as hard--as
+hard as a bit of stone.'
+
+'Really,' said Lady Merrifield, 'I can't help thinking there's a good
+deal of excuse for her.'
+
+'What? That poor Maurice's wife was half a heathen, and afterwards the
+girl was left to chance?' said Colonel Mohun. 'I see no other. And you,
+Lily, are the last person I should expect to excuse untruth.'
+
+'I did not mean to do that, Regie; but you all say that poor Mary was
+fond of this man and helped him.'
+
+'That she did!' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and very much against the grain
+it went with Maurice.'
+
+'Then don't you see that this poor child, who probably never had the
+matter explained to her, may have felt it a great hardship to be cut off
+from the man her mother taught her to care for; and that may have led
+her into concealments?'
+
+'Well!' said Colonel Mohun, 'at that rate, at least one may be thankful
+never to have married.'
+
+'One--or two, Regie?' said Jane, as they all laughed at his sally. 'I
+think I had better go up and see whether I can get anything out of
+the child. Do you mean to have her down to dinner, Lily,' she added,
+glancing at the clock.
+
+'Oh yes, certainly. I don't want to put her to disgrace before all the
+children and servants--that is, if she is not crying herself out of
+condition to appear, poor child.'
+
+'Not she,' said Uncle Reginald.
+
+On opening the door, the children were all discovered in the hall, in
+anxious curiosity, not venturing in uncalled, but very much puzzled.
+
+Gillian came forward and said, 'Mamma, may we know what is the matter?'
+
+'I hardly understand it myself yet, my dear, only that Dolores and
+Constance Hacket have let themselves be taken in by a sort of relation
+of Dolores's mother, and Uncle Maurice has lost a good deal of money
+through it. It would not have happened if there had been fair and
+upright dealing towards me; but we do not know the rights of it, and you
+had better take no notice of it to her.'
+
+'I thought,' said Valetta, sagaciously, 'no good could come of running
+after that stupid Miss Constance.'
+
+'Who can't pull a cracker, and screams at a daddy long-legs,' added
+Fergus.
+
+'But, mamma, what shall we do?' said Gillian. 'I came away because Uncle
+Regie told us, and Constance was crying so terribly; but what is poor
+Miss Hacket to do? There is the tree only half dressed, and all the
+girls coming to-night, unless she puts them off.'
+
+'Yes, you had better go down alone as soon as dinner is over, and see
+what she would like,' said Lady Merrifield. 'We must not leave her in
+the lurch, as if we cast her off, though I am afraid Constance has been
+very foolish in this matter. Oh, Gillian, I wish we could have made
+Dolores happier amongst us, and then this would not have happened.'
+
+'She would never let us, mamma,' said Gillian.
+
+But Mysie, coming up close to her mother as they all went up the broad
+staircase to prepare for the midday meal, confessed in a grave little
+voice, 'Mamma, I think I have sometimes been cross to Dolly-more lately,
+because it has been so very tiresome.'
+
+Lady Merrifield drew the little girl into her own room, stooped down,
+and kissed her, saying, 'My dear child, these things need a great deal
+of patience. You will have to be doubly kind and forbearing now, for she
+must be very unhappy, and perhaps not like to show it. You might say
+a little prayer for her, that God will help us to be kind to her, and
+soften her heart.'
+
+'Oh yes, mamma; and, please, will you set it down for me?'
+
+'Yes, my dear, and for myself too. You shall have it before bed-time.'
+
+Aunt Jane had followed Dolores to her own room the girl, who was sitting
+on her bed, dazed, regretted that she had not bolted her door, as her
+aunt entered with the words, 'Oh, Dolores, I am very sorry I could not
+have thought you would so have abused the confidence that was placed in
+you.'
+
+To this Dolores did not answer. To her mind she was the person ill-used
+by the prohibition of correspondence, but she could not say so. Every
+one was falling on her; but Aunt Jane's questions could not well help
+being answered.
+
+'What will your father think of if?'
+
+'He never forbade me to write to Uncle Alfred' said Dolores.
+
+'Because he never thought of your doing such a thing. Did he give you
+this cheque?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'For yourself?'
+
+'N-n-o. But it was the same.'
+
+'What do you mean by that?'
+
+'It was to pay a man--a man's that's dead.'
+
+'That may be; but what right did that give you to spend the money
+otherwise? Who was the man?'
+
+'Professor Muhlwasser, for some books of plates.'
+
+'How do you know he is dead! Who told you so? Eh! Was it Flinders? Ah!
+you see what comes of trusting to an unprincipled man like that. If you
+had only been open and straightforward with Aunt Lily, or with any of
+us, you would have been saved from this tissue of falsehood; forfeiting
+your Uncle Reginald's good opinion, and enabling Flinders to do your
+father this great injury.' She paused, and, as Dolores made no answer,
+she went on again--'Indeed, there is no saying what you have not brought
+on yourself by your deceit and disobedience. If Flinders is apprehended,
+you will have to appear against him in court, and publicly avow that you
+gave away what your father trusted to you.'
+
+Dolores gave a little moan and start, and her aunt, perceiving that she
+had touched an apparently vulnerable spot, proceeded--'The only thing
+left for you to do is to tell the whole story frankly and honestly. I
+don't say so only for the sake of showing Aunt Lily that you are sorry
+for having abused her confidence. I wish I could think that you
+are; but, unless we know all, we cannot shield you from any further
+consequences, and that of course we should wish to do, for your father's
+sake.'
+
+Dolores did not feel drawn to confession, but she knew that when Aunt
+Jane once set herself to ask questions, there was no use in trying to
+conceal anything. So she made answers, chiefly 'Yes' or No,' and her
+aunt, by severe and diligent pumping, had extracted bit by bit what
+it was most essential should be known, before the gong summoned them.
+Dolores would rather have been a solitary prisoner, able to chafe
+against oppression, than have been obliged to come down and confront
+everybody; but she crept into the place left for her between Mysie and
+Wilfred. She had very little appetite, and never found out how Mysie
+was fulfilling her resolution of kindness by baulking Wilfred of sundry
+attempts to tease; by substituting her own kissing-crust for Dolly's
+more unpoetical piece of bread; and offering to exchange her delicious
+strawberry-jam tartlet for the black-currant one at which her cousin was
+looking with reluctant eyes.
+
+Mysie and Valetta were grievously exercised about their chances of
+returning to the G.F.S. Tree. Indeed Gillian went the length of telling
+them that Fly was behaving far better in her disappointment as to the
+Butterfly's Ball than they were as to this 'old second-hand tree.' Fly
+laughed and observed, 'Dear me, things one would like are always being
+stopped. If one was to mind every time, how horrid it would be! And
+there's always something to make up!'
+
+Then it occurred to Gillian, though not to her younger sisters, that
+Lady Phyllis Devereux lived in general a much less indulged, and more
+frequently disappointed, life than did herself and her sisters.
+
+However, there was great delight at that dinner-table. Jasper had ridden
+to get the letters of the second post, and Lord Rotherwood had his hands
+and his head full of them when he came in to luncheon--there being what
+Lady Merrifield called a respectable dinner in view. In the first place.
+Lord Ivinghoe was getting on very well, and was up, sitting by the fire,
+playing patience. Nobody was catching the measles, and quarantine
+would be over on the 9th of January. Secondly, 'Fly, shall you be very
+broken-hearted if I tell you.'
+
+'Oh, daddy, you wouldn't look like that if it was anything very bad!
+Lion isn't dead?'
+
+'No; but I grieve to say your unnatural grand-parents don't want you!
+Grandmamma is nervous about having you without mamma. What did we do
+last time we were there, Fly?'
+
+'Don't you remember, daddy? they said there was nothing for me to ride
+to the meet, and you and Griffin put the side-saddle on Crazy Kate, and
+we went out with the hounds, and I've got the brush up in my room!'
+
+'I don't wonder grandmamma is nervous,' observed Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Will you be nervous, Lily,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'if this same flyaway
+mortal is left on your hands till the 9th?'
+
+Dinner, manners, silence before company, and all, could not repress a
+general scream of ecstacy, which called forth the reply. 'I should think
+you and her mother were the people to be nervous.
+
+'Oh! my lady has been duly instructed in Merrifield perfections, and
+esteems you a model mother.'
+
+The children's nods and smiles said 'Hear, hear!'
+
+'Well, you've got it all in her own letter,' continued Lord Rotherwood.
+'You see, they've got a caucus at High Court, and a dinner, and I must
+go up there on Monday; but if you'll keep this dangerous Fly--'
+
+'I can answer for the pleasure it will give,'
+
+'Well then, I'll come back for her by the 9th, and you've Victoria's
+letter, haven't you?'
+
+'Yes, it is very kind of her.'
+
+'Then I shall expect you to be ready to start with me for the
+Butterfly's Ball. Eh, young ladies, what will you come out as?'
+
+'Oh daddy, daddy, is it? Has mamma asked them? Oh! it is more delicious
+than anything ever was. Mysie, Mysie, what will you be?'
+
+'The sly little dormouse crept out of his hole,' quoted Mysie, in a very
+low, happy voice.
+
+'And I will be a jolly old frog,' shouted Fergus, finding the ordinance
+of silence broken and making the most of it, on the presumption that
+the whole family were invited. However, the tone, rather than the
+uncomprehended words of his mother's answer, 'Nobody asked you, sir,'
+she said, reduced him to silence, and it became understood, through
+Fly's inquiries, that the invitation included Lady Merrifield must make
+her acceptance doubtful. And besides, the question which three were
+to go was the unspoken drawback to full bliss, and yet the delight was
+exceedingly great in the prospect, great enough to make the contrast of
+gloom in poor Dolores's spirit all the darker, as she sat, left out of
+everything, and she could not now say, with absolute injustice, though
+she still clung to the belief that there was more misfortune than fault
+in her disgrace.
+
+She crept away, shivering with unhappiness, to the schoolroom, while
+the others frisked off discussing the wonderful Butterfly's Ball. Lady
+Merrifield looked in on her, and she hardened herself to endure either
+another probing or fresh reproaches, but all she heard was, 'My dear, I
+cannot talk over this sad affair now, as I have to go out. But, if you
+can, I think you had better write to your father about it, and let him
+understand exactly how it happened. Or, if you had rather write than
+speak in explaining it to me, you can do so, and we can consider
+tomorrow what is to be done about it.'
+
+Then she went out with her brother and cousin to drive to some
+Industrial schools which Lord Rotherwood wanted to see.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. -- THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL.
+
+
+
+Miss Mohun went to the Casement Cottages with Gillian to see what the
+elder Miss Hacket might wish and whether they could be of use to her;
+the young people being left to exercise themselves within call in case
+the Tree was to be continued.
+
+This proved to be an act of great kindness, for poor Mary Hacket was
+suffering all the distress of an upright and honourable woman at her
+sister's abuse of confidence; and had felt as if Colonel Mohun's summons
+to his nieces was the close of all intimacy with such an unworthy
+household. Moreover, the evenings entertainment could not be given up
+and Gillian was despatched to summon the eager assistants, while Aunt
+Jane repeated her assurances that Lady Merrifield perfectly understood
+Miss Hacket's ignorance of the doings in Constance's room--listening
+patiently even when the tender-hearted woman began to excuse her sister
+for having accepted Dolores's lamentations at being cut off from her
+so-called uncle. 'Dear Connie is so romantic, and so easily touched,'
+she said, 'though, of course, it was very wrong of her to suppose that
+Lady Merrifield could do anything harsh or unkind. She is in great grief
+now, poor darling, she feels so bitterly that her friend led her into it
+by deceiving her about the relationship and character.'
+
+This, Aunt Jane did not think the worst part of the affair, and she said
+that the girl had been brought up to call the man Uncle Alfred, and very
+possibly did not understand that he was only so by courtesy, nor that he
+was so utterly untrustworthy.
+
+'I thought so,' said Mary Hacket. 'I told Connie that such a child could
+not possibly have been a willing party to his fraud--for fraud, I fear,
+it was--Miss Mohun. Do you think there is any hope of her recovering the
+sum she advanced.'
+
+'I am afraid there is not, even if the wretched man is apprehended.'
+
+'Ah! if she had only told me what she wanted it for!'
+
+'I hope it was all her own.'
+
+'Oh, Miss Mohun, no doubt you know that two sisters living together must
+accommodate one another a little, and Connie's dress expenses, at her
+age, are necessarily more than mine. But here come the dear children,
+and we ought to dismiss all painful subjects, though I declare I am so
+nervous I hardly know what I am about.'
+
+However, by Miss Mohun's help, the good lady rose to the occasion, and
+when once busy, the trouble was thrown off, so that no guests would have
+detected how unhappy she had been in the forenoon. Constance soon
+came down, and confided to Gillian a parcel directed to Miss D. Mohun,
+containing all the notes written to her, and all the books lent to her,
+by the false friend whom she had cast off, after which she threw herself
+into the interests of the present.
+
+The London ornaments, and the residue of the gifts and bonbons, made the
+Christmas-tree a most memorable one to the G.F.S. mind.
+
+As to Fly, she fraternized to a great extent with a very small maid,
+in a very long, brown dress, and very thick boots, who did not taste
+a single bonbon, and being asked whether she understood that they were
+good to eat, replied that she was keeping them for 'our Bertie and
+Minnie;' and, on encouragement, launched into such a description of her
+charges--the blacksmith's small children--that Lady Phyllis went back,
+not without regrets that she could not be a little nurse who had done
+with school at twelve years old, and spent her days at the back of a
+perambulator.
+
+'Oh, daddy,' she said, 'I do wish you had come down; it was such lovely
+fun--the best tree I ever saw. Why wouldn't you come?'
+
+'If thirty odd years should pass over that little head of yours, my Lady
+Fly, and you should then meet with Mysie and Val, maybe you will then
+learn the reason why.'
+
+'We will recollect that in thirty years' time.'
+
+'When our children go to a Christmas-tree.'
+
+'And we sit over the fire instead.'
+
+'Oh! but should we ever not care for a dear, delightful Christmas-tree?'
+
+'If we had each other instead.'
+
+'Then we would all go still together!'
+
+'And tell our little boys and girls all about this one, and the
+Butterfly's Ball!'
+
+'Perhaps our husbands would want us, and not let us go.'
+
+'Oh! I don't want a husband. He'd be in the way. We'd send him off to
+India or somewhere, like Aunt Lily's.'
+
+'Don't, Fly; it is not at all nice to have papa away.'
+
+'Oh yes, it would be ten hundred times better if he were at home.'
+
+Such were the mingled sentiments of the triad, as they went upstairs to
+bed, linked together in their curious fashion.
+
+Some time later, a bedroom discussion of affairs was held by Lady
+Merrifield and Miss Mohun, who had not had a moment alone together all
+day, to converse upon the two versions of the disaster which the latter
+had extracted from Dolores and Constance, and which fairly agreed,
+though Constance had been by far the most voluble, and somewhat
+ungenerously violent against her former friend, at least so Lady
+Merrifield remarked.
+
+'You should take into account the authoress's disappointed vanity.'
+
+'Yes, poor thing! How he must have nattered her!'
+
+'Besides, there is the loss of the money, which, I fear, falls as
+seriously on good Miss Hacket as on the goose herself.'
+
+'Does it, indeed? That must not be. How much is it?'
+
+'Fifteen pounds; and that foolish Constance fancies that poor Dolores
+assisted in duping her. I really had to defend the girl; though I am
+just as angry myself when I watch her adamantine sullenness.'
+
+'I am the person to be angry with for having allowed the intimacy, in
+spite of your warnings, Jenny.'
+
+'You were too innocent to know what girls are made of. Oh yes, you
+are very welcome to have six of your own, but you might have six dozen
+without knowing what a girl brought up at a second-rate boarding-school
+is capable of, or what it is to have had no development of conscience.
+What shall you do? send her to school?'
+
+'After that recommendation of yours?'
+
+'I didn't propose a second-rate boarding-school, ma'am. There's a High
+School starting after the holidays at Rockstone. Let me have her, and
+send her there.'
+
+'Ada would not like it.'
+
+'Never mind Ada, I'll settle her. I would keep Dolly well up to her
+lessons, and prevent these friendships.'
+
+'I suppose you would manage her better than I have been able to do,'
+said Lady Merrifield, reluctantly. 'Yet I should like to try again; I
+don't want to let her go. Is it the old story of duty and love, Jane?
+Have I failed again through negligence and ignorance, and deceived
+myself by calling weakness and blindness love?'
+
+'You don't fail with your own, Lily. Rotherwood runs about admiring
+them, and saying he never saw a better union of freedom and obedience.
+It was really a treat to see Gillian's ways tonight; she had so much
+consideration, and managed her sisters so well.'
+
+'Ah, but there's their father! I do so dread spoiling them for him
+before he comes home; but then he is a present influence with us all the
+time.'
+
+'They would all clap their hands if I carried Dolly off.'
+
+'Yes, and that is one reason I don't want to give her up; it seems so
+sad to send Maurice's child away leaving such an impression. One thing I
+am thankful for, that it will be all over before grandmamma and Bessie
+Merrifield come.'
+
+At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a small figure
+appeared in a scarlet robe, bare feet, and dishevelled hair.
+
+'Mysie, dear child! What's the matter? who is ill?'
+
+'Oh, please come, mamma, Dolly is choking and crying in such a dreadful
+way, and I can't stop her.'
+
+'I give up, Lily. This is mother-work,' said Miss Mohun.
+
+Hurrying upstairs, Lady Merrifield found very distressing sounds issuing
+from Dolores's room; sobs, not loud, but almost strangled into a perfect
+agony of choking down by the resolute instinct, for it was scarcely
+will.
+
+'My dear, my dear, don't stop it!' she exclaimed, lifting up the girl in
+her arms. 'Let it out; cry freely; never mind. She will be better soon,
+Mysie dear. Only get me a glass of water, and find a fresh handkerchief.
+There, there, that's right!' as Dolores let herself lean on the kind
+breast, and conscious that the utmost effects of the disturbance had
+come, allowed her long-drawn sobs to come freely, and moaned as they
+shook her whole frame, though without screaming. Her aunt propped her up
+on her own bosom, parted back her hair, kissed her, and saying she was
+getting better, sent Mysie back to her bed. The first words that were
+gasped out between the rending sobs were, 'Oh! is my--he--to be tried?'
+
+'Most likely not, my dear. He has had full time to get away, and I hope
+it is so.'
+
+'But wasn't he there? Haven't they got him? Weren't they asking me about
+him, and saying I must be tried for stealing father's cheque?'
+
+'You were dreaming, my poor child. They have not taken him, and I am
+quite sure you will not be tried anyway.'
+
+'They said--Aunt Jane and Uncle Reginald and all, and 'that dreadful man
+that came--'
+
+'Perhaps they said you might have to be examined, but only if he is
+apprehended, and I fully expect that he is out of reach, so that you
+need not frighten yourself about that, my dear.'
+
+'Oh, don't go!' cried Dolores, as her aunt stirred.
+
+'No, I'm not going. I was only reaching some water for you. Let me
+sponge your face.'
+
+To this Dolores submitted gratefully, and then sighed, as if under heavy
+oppression, 'And did he really do it?'
+
+'I am afraid he must have done so.'
+
+'I never thought it. Mother always helped him.'
+
+'Yes, my dear, that made it very hard for you to know what was right to
+do, and this is a most terrible shock for you,' said her aunt, feeling
+unable to utter another reproach just then to one who had been so loaded
+with blame, and she was touched the more when Dolores moaned, 'Mother
+would have cared so much.'
+
+She answered with a kiss, was glad to find her hand still held, and
+forgot that it was past eleven o'clock.
+
+'Please, will it quite ruin father?' asked Dolores, who had not outgrown
+childish confusion about large sums of money.
+
+'Not exactly, my dear. It was more than he had in the bank, and Uncle
+Regie thinks the bankers will undertake part of the loss if he will let
+them. It is more inconvenient than ruinous.'
+
+'Ah!' There was a faintness and oppression in the sound which made
+Lady Merrifield think the girl ought not to be left, and before long,
+sickness came on. Nurse Halfpenny had to be called up, and it was one
+o'clock before there was a quiet, comfortable sleep, which satisfied the
+aunt and nurse that it was safe to repair to their own beds again.
+
+The dreary, undefined self-reproach and vague alarms, intensified by the
+sullen, reserved temper, and culminating in such a shock, alienating the
+only persons she cared for, and filling her with terror for the future,
+could not but have a physical effect, and Dolores was found on the
+morrow with a bad head-ache, and altogether in a state to be kept in
+bed, with a fire in her room.
+
+Gillian and Mysie were much impressed by the intelligence of their
+cousin's illness when they came to their mother's room on the way to
+breakfast, and Mysie turned to her sister, saying, 'There Gill, you
+see she did care, though she didn't cry like us. Being ill is more than
+crying.'
+
+'Well,' said Gillian, 'it is a good deal more than such things as you
+and Val cry for, Mysie.'
+
+'It was a trial such as you don't understand, my dears,' said Lady
+Merrifield. 'I don't, of course, excuse much that she did, but she had
+been used to see her mother make every exertion to help the man.'
+
+'That does make a difference,' said Gillian, 'but she shouldn't have
+taken her father's money. And wasn't it dreadful of Constance to smuggle
+her letters? I'm quite glad Constance gets part of the punishment.'
+
+'Certainly, that might be just, Gillian, but unfortunately the loss
+falls infinitely more heavily upon Miss Hacket, who cannot afford the
+loss at all.'
+
+'Oh dear!' cried Mysie.
+
+'I'm very sorry,' said Gillian.
+
+'And, my dear girls, in all honour and honesty, we must make it up to
+her.'
+
+'Can't we save it out of our allowance?' said Mysie.
+
+'Sixpence a month from you, a shilling perhaps from Gill, how long would
+that take? No, my dear girls, I am going to put you to a heavy trial.'
+
+'Oh, mamma, don't!' cried Gillian, seeing what she was driving at.
+'Don't give up the Butterfly's Ball.'
+
+'Oh, don't!' implored Mysie, tears starting in her eyes. 'We never saw a
+costume ball, and Fly wishes it so.'
+
+'And I thought you had promised,' said Gillian.
+
+'Cousin Rotherwood assumes that I did; but I did not really accept.
+I told him I could not tell, for you know your Grandmamma Merrifield
+talked of coming here, and I cannot put her off. And now I see that it
+must be given up.'
+
+'It need only be calico!' sighed Gillian, sticking pins in and out of
+the pincushion.
+
+'Fancy dresses even in calico are very expensive. Besides, I could not
+go to a place like Rotherwood without at least two new dresses, and it
+is not right to put papa to more expense.'
+
+'Oh, mamma! couldn't you? You always do look nicer than any one,' said
+Mysie.
+
+'My dear, I am afraid nothing I have at present would be suitable for
+a General's wife at Lady Rotherwood's party, and we must think of what
+would be fitting both towards our hostess and papa. Don't you see?'
+
+'Ah! your velvet dress!' sighed Gillian.
+
+'My poor old faithful state apparel,' smiled Lady Merrifield. 'Poor
+Gill, you did not think again to have to mourn for it, but I don't know
+that even that could have been sufficiently revivified, though it was my
+cheval de bataille for so many years.
+
+For Lady Merrifield's black velvet of many years' usefulness, had been
+put on for her p.p.c. party at Belfast, when Gillian, in abetting Jasper
+in roasting chestnuts over a paraffin-lamp, had set herself and the
+tablecloth on fire, and had been extinguished with such damages as
+singed hair, a scar on Jasper's hands, and the destruction of her
+mother's 'front breadth.' There had been such relief and thankfulness at
+its being no worse that the 'state apparel' had not been much mourned,
+especially as the remains made a charming pelisse for Primrose; and in
+the retirement of Silverton, it had not been missed till the present
+occasion.
+
+'Do gowns cost so very much?' said Mysie.
+
+'Indeed they do, my poor Mouse. The lamented cost more than twenty
+pounds. I had been thinking whether I could afford the requisite
+garments--not quite so costly--and thought I might get them for about
+sixteen, with contrivance; but you see I feel it my fault that I let
+Dolores go and lead Constance to get cheated, and I cannot take the
+money out of what papa gives for household expenses and your education,
+so it must come out of my own personal allowance. Don't you see?'
+
+'Ye--es,' said Gillian, apparently intent on getting a big, black-headed
+pin repeatedly into the same hole, while Mysie was trying with all her
+might not to cry.
+
+'You are thinking it is very hard that you should suffer for Dolly's
+faults. Perhaps it is, but such things may often happen to you, my
+dears. Christians bear them well for love's sake, you know.'
+
+'And it is a little my fault,' said Gillian, thoughtfully; 'for it was I
+that let the chestnut fall into the lamp.'
+
+'I--I don't think I should have minded so much,' said Mysie, almost
+crying, 'if we had done it our own selves--and Fly too--for some very
+poor woman in the snow.'
+
+'I know that very well, Mysie, and this is a much harder trial, as you
+don't get the honour and glory of it; and, besides, you will have to
+take care to say not a word of this reason to Fly or Valetta, or any one
+else.'
+
+'Val will be awfully disappointed,' said Gillian.
+
+'Poor Val! But I should not have taken her anyway, so that matters
+the less. I should have taken Jasper, for that would have been more
+convenient than so many girls. In fact, I did not mean anybody to have
+heard of it till I had made up my mind, so that there would have been no
+disappointment; but that naughty Cousin Rotherwood could not keep it to
+himself; and so, my poor maidens, you have to bear it with a good grace,
+and to be treated as my confidential friends.'
+
+Mysie smiled and kissed her mother--Gillian cleared somewhat, but
+observing, 'I only wish it wasn't clothes;' tried to dismiss the subject
+as the gong began to sound, but Mysie caught her mother's dress, and
+said, 'Mayn't I tell Fly, for a great secret?'
+
+'No, my dear, certainly not. Fly is a dear little girl, but we don't
+know how she can keep secrets, and it would never do to let the
+Rotherwoods know; papa and Uncle William would be exceedingly annoyed.
+And only think of Miss Hacket's feelings if it came round. It will be
+hard enough to get her to take it now.'
+
+'Perhaps she won't,' flashed into the minds of both girls; but Mysie
+said entreatingly, 'One moment more, mamma, please! What can I say to
+Fly that will be the truth?'
+
+'Say that I find we cannot go, and that I had never promised,' said Lady
+Merrifield. 'I trust you, my dears.'
+
+And as she opened the door to hurry down to prayers, the two sisters
+felt the words very precious and inspiriting. Mysie lingered on the step
+and bravely asked Gillian whether her eyes looked like crying--
+
+'No, only a little twinkly,' answered the elder sister; 'they will be
+all right after prayers if you don't rub them.'
+
+'No, I won't, said Mysie; "I'll try to mean 'Thy will be done.' For I
+suppose it is His will, though it is mamma's."
+
+'I'm glad you thought of that, Mysie,' said Gillian; 'you see it is
+mamma's goodness.' And Gillian added to herself, "dear little Mysie
+too. If it had not been for her, I believe I should have 'grizzled' all
+prayer-time, and now I hope I shall attend instead."
+
+When everybody rose up from their knees, Lady Merrifield was glad to see
+two fairly cheerful faces. She tried to lessen the responsibility of the
+confidants, and to get the matter settled by telling Lord Rotherwood
+at once and publicly that she had thought his kind invitation over,
+and that she found she must not accept it. Perhaps she warily took the
+moment after she had seen the postman coming up the drive, for he had
+only time to say, 'Now, that's too bad, Lily, you don't mean it,' and
+she to answer, 'Yes, in sad earnest, I do,' before the letters came in,
+and the attention of the elders was taken off by the distribution.
+
+But Valetta whispered to Gillian, 'Not going; oh why?'
+
+'No; never mind, you wouldn't have gone, anyway--hush--' said Gillian,
+beginning, it may be, a little sharply, but then becoming dismayed as
+Valetta, perhaps a little unhinged by the late pleasures, burst forth
+into such a fit of crying as made everybody look up, and her mother tell
+her to go away if she could not behave better. Gillian, understanding
+a sign of the head as permission, led her away, hearing Lord Rotherwood
+observe,--
+
+'There, you cruel party!' before again becoming absorbed in his letter.
+
+'Oh dear!' sighed Fly, turning to Mysie as they rose from table, 'I am
+so sorry! It would have been so nice; and I thought we were safe, as
+mamma had written herself!'
+
+'Ah! but my mamma hadn't accepted,' said Mysie.
+
+Phyllis seemed to take this as final, and sighed, but Mysie presently
+exclaimed, 'I say! can't we all play at Butterfly's Ball in the hall
+after lessons?'
+
+'Lessons?' said Fly; 'but it's holiday-time?'
+
+'Mamma always makes us do a sort of little lesson, even in the holidays,
+as she says we get naughty. But I suppose you need not; and perhaps she
+will not make us now you are here.'
+
+Colonel Mohun and Lord Rotherwood were going to Darminster to see what
+was the state of the investigation about Mr. Flinders. They set out
+directly after breakfast, and after the feeding of the pets, where
+Valetta joined them, much consoled by the prospect of the extemporary
+Butterfly's Ball at home, Lady Phyllis, with her usual ready
+adaptability, repaired with the others to the schoolroom, where the
+Psalms and Lessons were read, and a small amount of French reading in
+turn from 'En Quarantaine' followed, with accompaniment of needlework or
+drawing, after which the children were free.
+
+Aunt Jane was going home to her Sunday school and the Rockstone
+festivities. She came down for her final talk with her sister just in
+time to perceive the folding up of three five-pound notes.
+
+'Lily,' she said, with instant perception, 'I could beat myself for what
+I told you yesterday.'
+
+Lady Merrifield laughed. 'The girls are very good about it!' she said.
+'Now you have found it out, see whether that note will make Miss Hacket
+swallow it.'
+
+'Can't be better! But oh. Lily, it is disgusting! Could not I rig up
+something fanciful for the children?'
+
+'That's not so much the point. 'The General's lady,' as Mrs. Halfpenny
+would say, is bound not to look like 'ane scrub,' as she would be
+unwelcome to Victoria, and what would be William's feelings? I could
+hardly have accomplished it even with this, and the catastrophe settles
+the matter.'
+
+'You could not get into my black satin?'
+
+'No, I thank you, my dear little Brownie,' said Lady Merrifield,
+elongating herself like a girl measuring heights.
+
+'Ada has a larger assortment, as well as a taller person,' continued
+Miss Jane, 'but then they are rather 'henspeckle,' and they have all
+made their first appearance at Rotherwood.'
+
+'No, no, thank you, my dear, Jasper would not like the notion--even if
+there was not more of me than of Ada. I have no doubt it is much better
+for us.'
+
+'Should you have liked it, Lily?'
+
+'For once in a way. For Rotherwood's sake, dear old fellow. Yes, I
+should.'
+
+'Ah, well! You are a bit of a grande dame yourself. Ada enjoys it, too,
+or I don't think I ever should go there.'
+
+'Surely Victoria behaves well to you?'
+
+'Far be it from me to say she is not exemplary in her perfect civility
+to all her husband's relations. Ada thinks her charming; but oh. Lily,
+you've never found out what it is to be a little person in a great
+person's house, and to feel one's self scrupulously made one of the
+family, because her husband is so much attached to all of them. There's
+nothing spontaneous about it! I dare say you would get on better, though
+You are not a country-town old maid; you would have an air of the world
+and of distinction even if you went in your old grey poplin.'
+
+'Well, I thought better of my lady.'
+
+'You ought not! She makes great efforts, I am sure, and is a pattern of
+graciousness and cordiality--only that's just what riles one, when one
+knows one is just as well born, and all the rest of it. And then I'm
+provided with the clever men, and the philanthropical folk to talk to. I
+know it's a great compliment, and they are very nice, but I'd ten times
+rather take my chance among them. However, now I've made the grapes sour
+for you, what do you think about Dolores? Will you send her to us?'
+
+'Not immediately, at any rate, dear Jane. It is very kind in you to wish
+to take her off our hands, but I do want to try her a little longer. I
+thought she seemed to be softening last night.'
+
+'She was as hard as ever when I went in to wish her good-bye.'
+
+'I thought she had too much headache for conversation when I went in
+last; I think this is a regular upset from unhappiness and reserve.'
+
+'Alias temper and deceitfulness.'
+
+'Something of both. You know the body often suffers when things are not
+thrown out in a wholesome explosion at once, but go simmering on; and I
+mean to let this poor child alone till she is well.'
+
+'Ah! here comes the pony-carriage. Well, Lily, send her to me if you
+repent.'
+
+The sisters came out to find the Butterfly's Ball in full action. Fly
+had become a Butterfly by the help of a battered pair of fairy wings,
+stretched on wire, which were part of the theatrical stock. 'The shy
+little Dormouse' was creeping about on all fours under a fur jacket,
+with a dilapidated boa for a long tail, but her 'blind brother the Mole'
+had escaped from her, and had been transformed into the Frog, by means
+of a spotted handkerchief over his back, and tremendous leap-frog jumps.
+Primrose, in another pair of fairy wings, was personating the Dragon-fly
+and all his relations, 'green, orange, and blue.' Valetta, in perfect
+content with the present, with a queer pair of ears, and a tail made
+of an old brush, sat up and nibbled as Squirrel. The Grasshopper was
+performing antics which made him not easily distinguishable from
+the Frog, and the Spider was actually descending by a rope from the
+balusters, while his mother, standing somewhat aghast, breathed a hope
+that 'poor Harlequin's' fall was not part of the programme. But she
+did not interfere, having trust in the gymnastics that were studied
+at school by Jasper, who had been beguiled into the game by Fly's
+fascinations.
+
+'A far more realistic performance than the Rotherwood Butterfly's Ball
+is likely to be,' said Aunt Jane, aside, as the various guests came up
+for her departing kiss. 'And much more entertaining, if they could only
+think so. Where's Gillian?'
+
+Gillian appeared on the stairs in her own person at the moment. She
+said Mrs. Halfpenny had called her, and told her that 'Miss Dollars' was
+crying, and that she did not think the child ought to be left alone
+long to fret herself, but Saturday morning needments called away nurse
+herself, so she had ordered in Miss Gillian as her substitute. Gillian
+was reading to her, and had only come away to make her farewells to Aunt
+Jane.
+
+'That is right, my dear,' said her mother; 'I will come and sit with her
+after luncheon.'
+
+For the whole youthful family were to turn out to superintend the
+replantation of the much-enduring fir, which, it was hoped, might
+survive for many another Christmas.
+
+However, Lady Merrifield could not keep her promise, for a whole party
+of visitors arrived just after the children's dinner was over.
+
+'And it's old Mrs. Norgood,' sighed Gillian, looking over the balusters,
+'and she always slays for ages!'
+
+'One of you young ladies must bide with Miss Dollars,' said Nurse
+Halfpenny, decidedly, 'or we shall have her fretting herself ill again.'
+
+'Oh, nursie, can't you?' entreated Gillian.
+
+'Me, Miss Gillian! How can I, when Miss Primrose is going out with
+the whole clamjamfrie, and all the laddies, into the wet plantations?
+Na--one of ye maun keep the lassie company. Ye've had your turn, Miss
+Gillian, so it should be Miss Mysie. It winna hurt ye, bairn, ye that
+hae been rampaging ower the house all the morning.'
+
+Mysie knew it was her turn, but she also knew that nurse always favoured
+Gillian and snubbed her. She had a devouring longing to be with her dear
+Fly, and a certain sense that she was the preferred one. Must another
+pleasure be sacrificed to that very naughty Dolores, whose misdemeanours
+had deprived them of the visit to Rotherwood. She looked so dismal that
+Gillian said good-naturedly, 'Really, Mysie, I don't think mamma would
+mind Dolores's being left a little while; I must go down to see about
+the Tree, because mamma gave me a message to old Webb, but I'll come
+back directly. Or perhaps Dolly is going to sleep, and does not want any
+one. Go and see.'
+
+Mysie on this crept quietly into the room, full of hope of escape, but
+Dolores was anything but asleep. 'Oh, are you come, Mysie? Now you'll go
+on with the story. I tried, but my eyes ache at the back of them, and I
+can't.'
+
+Mysie's fate was sealed. She sat down by the fire and took up the book,
+'A Story for the Schoolroom,' one of the new ones given from the Tree.
+It was the middle of the story, and she did not care about it at first,
+especially when she heard Fly's voice, and all the others laughing and
+chattering on the stairs.
+
+'Didn't they care for her absence?' and her voice grew thick, and her
+eyes dim; but Dolores must not think her cross and unwilling, and she
+made a great effort, became interested in the girls there described, and
+wondered whether staying with Fly would have turned her head, after the
+example of the heroine of the book.
+
+Dolores did not seem to want to talk. In fact, she was clinging to the
+reading, because she could not bear to speak or think of the state of
+affairs, and the story seemed, as it were, to drown her misery. She
+knew that her aunt and cousins were far less severe with her than she
+expected, but that could only be because she was ill. Had not Uncle
+Reginald turned against her, and Constance? It would all come upon her
+as soon as she came out of her room, and she was rather sorry to believe
+that she should be up and about to-morrow morning.
+
+Mysie read on till the short, winter day showed the first symptoms of
+closing in. Then Lady Merrifield came up. 'You here, little nurse?' she
+said. 'Run out now and meet the others. I'll stay with Dolly.' Mysie
+knew by the kiss that her mother was pleased with her; but Dolores
+dreaded the talk with her aunt, and made herself sleepy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. -- THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE.
+
+
+
+The two gentlemen who had gone to Darminster brought home tidings that
+the police who had been put on the track of Flinders had telegraphed
+that it was thought that a person answering to his description had
+embarked at Liverpool in an American-bound steamer.
+
+This idea, though very uncertain, was a relief, at least to all except
+the boys, who thought it a great shame that such a rascal should escape,
+and wanted to know whether the Americans could not be made to give him
+up. They did not at all understand their elders being glad, for the sake
+of Maurice Mohun and his dead wife, that the man should not be publicly
+convicted, and above all that Dolores should not have to bear testimony
+against him in court, and describe her own very doubtful proceedings.
+Besides, there would have been other things to try him for, since he had
+cheated the publishing house which employed him of all he had been able
+to get into his hands. There was reason to believe that he had heavy
+debts, especially gambling ones, and that he had become desperate since
+he no longer had his step-sister to fall back upon.
+
+Looking into his room, among other papers, a half-burnt manuscript was
+found upon his grate among some exhausted cinders, as if he had been
+trying to use the unfortunate 'Waif of the Moorland' to eke out his last
+fire. Moreover, the proprietor of the Politician told Colonel Mohun of
+having remonstrated with him on the exceeding weakness and poorness of
+the 'Constantia' poetry, 'which,' as that indignant personage added,
+'was evidently done merely as a lure to the unfortunate young lady.'
+
+The fifteen pounds had been accepted in an honourable and ladylike
+manner by the elder sister--but without any overpowering expression
+of gratitude. No doubt it was a bitter pill to her, forced down by
+necessity, and without guessing that it cost the donors anything.
+
+Dolores's mind was set at rest as to Flinders's evasion before night,
+and on the Sunday morning even Nurse Halfpenny could find out nothing
+the matter with her, so that she was obliged to make her appearance as
+usual. Uncle Reginald did not kiss her, he only gave a cold nod, and
+said 'Good morning.' Otherwise all went on as usual, and it was pleasant
+to find that Fly was as entirely used as they were to learning Collect
+and hymn, and copying out texts illustrating Catechism, and that she was
+expected to have them ready to repeat them to her mother some time
+in the afternoon. There was something, too, that Mysie could not have
+described, but which she liked, in the manner in which, on this morning,
+Dolores accepted small acts of good nature, such as finding a book
+for her, getting a new pen and helping her to the whereabouts of a
+Scriptural reference. It seemed for the first time as if she liked to
+receive a kindness, and her 'thank you' really had a sound of thanks,
+instead of being much more like 'I wish you would not.' Mysie felt
+really encouraged to be kind, and when, on setting forth to church,
+everybody was crowding round trying to walk with Fly, and Dolores was
+going along lonely and deserted, Mysie resigned her chance of one side
+of the favourite Phyllis, and dropped back to give her company to the
+solitary one. To her surprise and gratification, Dolores took hold of
+her hand, and listened quite willingly to her chatter about the schemes
+for the fortnight that Fly was to be left with them. Presently Constance
+was seen going markedly by the other gate of the churchyard, quite out
+of her usual way, and not even looking towards them.
+
+It was the last day of the old year, and, in the midst of the Christmas
+joy, there were allusions to it in the services and hymns. Something
+in the tune of 'Days and moments quickly flying,' touched some chord in
+Dolores's spirit, and set her off crying. She would have done anything
+to stop it, but there was no helping it, great round splashes came down,
+and the more she was afraid of being noticed, the worse the choking
+grew. At last, the very worst person--she thought--to take notice. Uncle
+Reginald, did so, and, under cover of a general rising, said sternly,
+'Stop that, or go out.'
+
+Stop that! Much did the colonel know about a girl's tears, or how she
+would have given anything to check them. But here was Aunt Lily edging
+down to her, taking her by the hand, leading her out, she did not know
+how, stopping all who would have come after them with help--then pausing
+a little in the open, frosty air.
+
+'Oh, Aunt Lily! I am very sorry!'
+
+'Never mind that, my dear. Do you feel poorly?'
+
+'Oh no; I'm quite well--only--'
+
+'Only overcome--I don't wonder--my dear--can you walk quietly home with
+me?'
+
+'Yes, please.'
+
+Nothing was said till they had passed the 'idle corner,' where men and
+half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and
+stared at the lady making her exit, till they were through the short
+street with shop windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking,
+and had come into the quiet lane leading to the paddock. Then Lady
+Merrifield laid her hand on the girl's shoulder very gently, and said,
+'It was too much for you, my dear, you are not quite strong yet.'
+
+'Oh yes; I'm well. Only I am so very--very miserable,' and the gust of
+sobs and tears rushed on her again.
+
+'Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!'
+
+'You can't! I've done it! And--and they'll all be against me
+always--Uncle Regie and all!'
+
+'Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I'm sure he will forgive you when
+he sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a
+fresh start. I am sure you were deceived.'
+
+'Yes,' said Dolores. 'I never could have thought he--Uncle Alfred--was
+such a dreadful man.'
+
+'I expect that since he lost your mother's influence and help he may
+have sunk lower than when you had seen him before. Did your father give
+you any directions about him?'
+
+'No. Father hated to hear of him' and never spoke about him if he could
+help it; and we thought it was all Mohun high notions because he wasn't
+quite a gentleman.'
+
+'I see. Indeed, my dear, though you have done very wrong, I have
+already felt that there was great excuse for you in trying to keep up
+intercourse with a person who belonged to your mother. I wish you had
+told me, but I suppose you were afraid.'
+
+'Yes' said Dolores. 'And I thought you were sure to be cross and harsh,'
+she muttered. And then suddenly looking up, 'Oh, Aunt Lily! everybody is
+angry but you--you and Mysie! Please go on being kind! I believe you've
+been good to me always.'
+
+'My dear, I've tried,' said Lady Merrifield, with fears in her brown
+eyes and a choke in her voice caressing the hand that had been put into
+hers. 'I have wished very much to make you happy with us; but the ways
+of a large family must be a trial to a new-comer.'
+
+Dolores raised her face for a kiss, and said, 'I see it now. But I did
+not like everything always, and I thought aunts were sure to be unkind.'
+
+'That was very hard. And why?'
+
+She was heard to mutter something about aunts in books always being
+cross.
+
+'Ah! my dear! I suppose there are some unkind aunts, but I am sure there
+are a great many more who wish with all their hearts to make happy homes
+for their nieces. I hope now we may do so. I have more hope than ever I
+had, and so I shall write to your father.'
+
+'And please--please,' cried Dolores, 'don't let Uncle Regie write him a
+very dreadful letter! I know he will.'
+
+'I think you can prevent that best yourself, by telling Uncle Regie how
+sorry you are. He was specially grieved because he thinks you told him
+two direct falsehoods.'
+
+'Oh! I didn't think they were that,' said Dolores, 'for it was true that
+father did not leave anything with me for Uncle Alfred. And I did not
+know whether it was me whom he saw at Darminster. I did tell you one
+once, Aunt Lily, when you asked if I gave Constance a note. At least,
+she gave it to me, and not I to her. Indeed, I don't tell falsehoods,
+Aunt Lily--I mean I never did at home, but Constance said everybody said
+those sort of things at school, and that one was driven to it when one
+was---'
+
+'Was what, my dear?'
+
+'Tyrannized over,' Dolores got out.
+
+'Ah! Dolly, I am afraid Constance was no real friend. It was a great
+mistake to think her like Miss Hacket.'
+
+'And now she has sent back all my notes, and won't look at me or speak
+to me,' and Dolores's tears began afresh.
+
+'It is very ungenerous of her, but very likely she will be very sorry to
+have done so when her first anger is over, and she understands that you
+were quite as much deceived as she was.'
+
+'But I shall never care for her again. It is not like Mysie, who never
+stopped being kind all the time--nor Gillian either. I shall cut her
+next time!'
+
+'You should remember that she has something to forgive. I don't want you
+to be intimate with her but I think it would be better if, instead of
+quarrelling openly, you wrote a note to say that you were deceived and
+that you are very sorry for what you brought on her.'
+
+'I should not have gone on with it but for her and Her stupid poems!'
+
+'Can you bear to tell me how it all was, my dear? I do not half
+understand it.'
+
+And on the way home, and in Lady Merrifield's own room Dolores found
+it a relief to pour forth an explanation of the whole affair, beginning
+with that meeting with Mr. Flinders at Exeter, of which no one had
+heard, and going on to her indignation at the inspection of her letters;
+and how Constance had undertaken to conduct her correspondence, 'and
+that made it seem as if she must write to some one,'--so she wrote to
+Uncle Alfred. And then Constance, becoming excited at the prospect of
+a literary connection, all the rest followed. It was a great relief to
+have told it all, and Lady Merrifield was glad to see that the sense of
+deceit was what weighed most heavily upon her niece, and seemed to have
+depressed her all along. Indeed, the aunt came to the conclusion
+that though Dolores alone might still have been sullen, morose and
+disagreeable, perhaps very reserved, she never would have kept up
+the systematic deceit but for Constance. The errors, regarded as sin,
+weighed on Lady Merrifield's mind, but she judged it wiser not to press
+that thought on an unprepared spirit, trusting that just as Dolores had
+wakened to the sense of the human love that surrounded her, hitherto
+disbelieved and disregarded, so she might yet awake to the feeling of
+the Divine love and her offence against it.
+
+The afternoon was tolerably free, for the gentlemen, including the elder
+boys, walked to evensong at a neighbouring church noted for its musical
+services, and Lady Merrifield, as she said, 'lashed herself up' to go
+with Gillian, carry back the remnant of the unhappy 'Waif,' and 'have it
+out' with Constance, who would, she feared, never otherwise understand
+the measure of her own delinquency, and from whom, perhaps, evidence
+might be extracted which would palliate the poor child's offence in
+the eyes of Colonel Mohun. Both the Hacket sisters looked terribly
+frightened when she appeared, and the elder one made an excuse for
+getting her outside the door to beseech her to be careful, dear
+Constance was so nervous and so dreadfully upset by all she had
+undergone. Lady Merrifield was not the least nervous of the two, and she
+felt additionally displeased with Constance for not having said one word
+of commiseration when her sister had inquired for Dolores. On returning
+to the drawing-room, Lady Merrifield found the young lady standing by
+the window, playing with the blind, and looking as if she wanted to make
+her escape.
+
+'I do not know whether you will be sorry or glad to see this,' said Lady
+Merrifield, producing a half-burnt roll of paper. 'It was found in
+Mr. Flinders's grate, and my brother thought you would be glad that it
+should not get into strange hands.'
+
+'Oh, it was cruel! it was base! What a wicked man he is!' cried
+Constance, with hot tears, as she beheld the mutilated condition of her
+poor 'Waif.'
+
+'Yes, it was a most unfortunate thing that you should have run into
+intercourse with such an utterly untrustworthy person.'
+
+'I was grossly deceived, Lady Merrifield!' said Constance, clasping her
+hands somewhat theatrically.
+
+'I shall never believe in any one again!'
+
+'Not without better grounds, I hope,' was the answer. 'Your poor little
+friend is terribly broken down by all this.'
+
+'Don't call her my friend. Lady Merrifield. She has used me shamefully!
+What business had she to tell me he was her uncle when he was no such
+thing?'
+
+'She had been always used to call him so.'
+
+'Don't tell me, Lady Merrifield,' said Constance, who, after her first
+fright, was working herself into a passion. 'You don't know what
+a little viper you have been warming, nor what things she has been
+continually saying of you. She told me--'
+
+Lady Merrifield held up her hand with authority.
+
+'Stay, Constance. Do you think it is generous in you to tell me this?'
+
+'I am sure you ought to know.'
+
+'Then why did you encourage her?'
+
+'I pitied her--I believed her--I never thought she would have led me
+into this!'
+
+'How did she lead you?'
+
+'Always talking about her precious, persecuted uncle. I believe she was
+in league with him all the time!'
+
+'That is nonsense,' said Lady Merrifield, 'as you must see if you
+reflect a little. Dolores was too young to have been told this man's
+real character; she only knew that her mother, who had spent her
+childhood with him, treated him as a brother, and did all she could for
+him. Dolores did very wrongly and foolishly in keeping up a connection
+with him unknown to me; but I cannot help feeling there was great excuse
+for her, and she was quite as much deceived as you were.'
+
+'Oh, of course, you stand by your own niece, Lady Merrifield. If you
+knew what horrid things she said about your pride and unkindness, as she
+called it, you would not think she deserved it.'
+
+'Nay, that is exactly what does most excuse her in my eyes. Her fancying
+such things of me was what did prevent her from confiding in me.'
+
+Constance had believed herself romantic, but the Christian chivalry of
+Lady Merrifield's nature was something quite beyond her. She muttered
+something about Dolores not deserving, which made her visitor really
+angry, and say, 'We had better not talk of deserts. Dolores is a mere
+child--a mother-less child, who had been a good deal left to herself for
+many months. I let her come to you because she seemed shy and unhappy
+with us, and I did not like to deny her the one pleasure she seemed to
+care for. I knew what an excellent person and thorough lady your sister
+is, and I thought I could perfectly trust her with you. I little thought
+you would have encouraged her in concealment, and--I must say--deceit,
+and thus made me fail in the trust her father reposed in me.'
+
+'I would never have done it,' Constance sobbed, 'but for what she said
+about you. Lady Merrifield!'
+
+'Well, and even if I am such a hard, severe person, does that make it
+honourable or right to help the child I trusted to you to carry on this
+underhand correspondence?'
+
+Constance hung her head. Her sister had said the same to her, but she
+still felt herself the most injured party, and thought it very hard
+that she should be so severely blamed for what the girls at her school
+treated so lightly. She said, 'I am very sorry. Lady Merrifield,' but
+it was not exactly the tone of repentance, and it ended with: 'If it had
+not been for her, I should never have done it.'
+
+'I suppose not, for there would have been no temptation. I was in
+hopes that you would have shown some kindlier and more generous feeling
+towards the younger girl, who could not have gone so far wrong without
+your assistance, and who feels your treatment of her very bitterly. But
+to find you incapable of understanding what you have done, makes me all
+the more glad that the friendship--if friendship it can be called--is
+broken off between you. Good-bye. I think when you are older and wiser,
+you will be very sorry to recollect the doings of the last few months.'
+
+Lady Merrifield walked away, and found on her return that Dolores had
+succeeded in writing to her father, and was so utterly tired out by the
+feelings it had cost her that she was only fit to lie on the sofa and
+sleep.
+
+Gillian was, of course, not seen till she came home from evening
+service.
+
+'Oh, mamma,' she said, 'what did you do to Constance?'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'Well, I heard you shut the front door. And presently after there came
+such a noise through the wall that all the girls pricked up their ears,
+and Miss Hacket jumped up in a fright. If it had been Val, one would
+have called it a naughty child roaring.'
+
+'What! did I send her into hysterics?'
+
+'I suppose, as she is grown up, it must have the fine name, but it
+wasn't a bit like poor Dolly's choking. I am sure she did it to make her
+sister come! Well, of course, Miss Hacket went away, and I did the best
+I could, but what could one do with all these screeches and bellowings
+breaking out?'
+
+'For shame. Gill!'
+
+'I can't help it, mamma. If you had only seen their faces when the
+uproar came in a fresh gust! How they whispered, and some looked
+awestruck. I thought I had better get rid of them, and come home myself;
+but Miss Hacket met me, and implored me to stay, and I was weak-minded
+enough to do so. I wish I hadn't, for it was only to be provoked past
+bearing. That horrid girl has poisoned even Miss Hacket's mind, and she
+thinks you have been hard on her darling. You did not know how nervous
+and timid dear Connie is!'
+
+'Well, Gill, I confess she made me very angry, and I told her what I
+thought of her.'
+
+'And that she didn't choose to hear!'
+
+'Did you see her again?'
+
+'No, I am thankful to say, I did not. But Miss Hacket would go on all
+tea-time, explaining and explaining for me to tell you how dear Connie
+is so affectionate and so easily led, and how Dolores came over her with
+persuasions, and deceived her. I declare I never liked Dolly so well
+before. At any rate, she doesn't make professions, and not a bit
+more fuss than she can help. And there was Miss Hacket getting brandy
+cherries and strong coffee, and I don't know what all, because dear
+Connie was so overcome, and dear Lady Merrifield was quite under a
+mistake, and so deceived by Dolores. I told Miss Hacket you were never
+under a mistake nor deceived.'
+
+'You didn't, Gillian!'
+
+'Yes, I did, and the stupid woman only wanted to kiss me (but I wouldn't
+let her) and said I was very right to stand up for my dear mamma. As if
+that had anything to do with it! What are you laughing at, mamma? Why,
+Uncle Regie is laughing, and Cousin Rotherwood! What is it?'
+
+'At the two partisans who never stand up for their own families,' said
+Uncle Regie.
+
+'But it's true!' cried Gillian.
+
+'What! that I am never mistaken nor deceived?' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Except when you took Miss Constance for a sensible woman, eh?' said her
+brother.
+
+'That I never did! But I did take her for a moderately honourable one.'
+
+'Well, that was a mistake,' owned Gillian. 'And Miss Hacket is as bad!
+There's no gratitude---'
+
+'Hush!' broke in her mother; and Gillian stopped abashed, while Lady
+Merrifield continued, 'I won't have Miss Hacket abused. She is only
+blinded by sisterly affection.'
+
+'I don't think I can go there again,' said Gillian, 'after what she said
+about you.'
+
+'Nonsense!' said her mother. 'Don't be as bad as Constance in trying to
+make me angry by telling me all poor Dolly's grumblings.'
+
+'Follow your mother's example, Gillian,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and, if
+possible, never hear, certainly never attend to, what any one says of
+you behind your back.'
+
+'Is said to have said of you, you should add, Rotherwood,' put in the
+colonel. 'It is a decree worse than eavesdropping.'
+
+'Oh, Regie!' exclaimed his sister.
+
+'Well, not perhaps for your own honour and conscience, but the keyhole
+is a more trustworthy medium than the reporter.'
+
+'That's a strong way of stating it, but, at any rate, the keyhole has no
+temper nor imagination, or prejudice of its own,' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'No, and as far as it goes, it enables you to judge of the frame in
+which the words, even if correctly reported, were spoken,' added Colonel
+Mohun.
+
+'The moral of which is,' said Lord Rotherwood, drolly, 'that Gillian
+is not to take notice of anyone's observations upon her unless she has
+heard them through the keyhole.'
+
+'And so one would never hear them at all.'
+
+'Q. E. D.,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'And now, Lily, do you. ever sing
+the two evening-hymns. Ken and Keble, now, as the family used to do
+on Sundays at the Old Court, long ere the days of 'Hymns Ancient and
+Modern'?
+
+'Don't we?' said Lady Merrifield. 'Only all our best voices will be
+singing it at Rawul Pindee!'
+
+And, as she struck a note on the piano, all the younger people still up,
+Mysie, Phyllis, Wilfred and Valetta, gathered round from the outer
+room to join in their evening Sunday delight. Fly put her hand into her
+father's and whispered, 'You told me about it, daddy.' He began to sing,
+but his voice thickened as he missed the tones once associated with it.
+And Lady Merrifield, too, nearly broke down as with all her heart she
+sang, hopefully,
+
+
+                   'Now Lord, the gracious work begin.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. -- THE STONE MELTING.
+
+
+
+It was with a strange feeling that Dolores woke on the New Year's
+morning, that something was very sad and strange, and yet that there was
+a sense of relief. For one thing, that terrible confession to her father
+was written, and was no longer a weight hanging over her. And though his
+answer was still to come, that was months away. There was Uncle Regie
+greatly displeased with her; there was Constance treating her as a
+traitor; there was the mischief done, and yet something hard and heavy
+was gone? Something sweet and precious had come in on her! Surely
+it was, that now she knew and felt that she could trust in Aunt
+Lilias--yes, and in Mysie. She got up, quite looking forward to meeting
+those gentle, brown eyes of her aunt's, that she seemed never before to
+have looked into, and to feeling the sweet, motherly kiss which had so
+mud, more meaning in it now, as almost to make up for Uncle Reginald's
+estrangement.
+
+She even anticipated gladly those ten minutes alone with her aunt, which
+she used to dislike so much, hoping that the holiday-time would not
+hinder them. Really wishing to please her aunt, she had learnt her
+portion perfectly, and Lady Merrifield showed that she appreciated the
+effort, though still it was more a lesson than a reality.
+
+'My dear!' she said, 'I am afraid this is another blow for you--it came
+this morning.'
+
+It was the account from Professor Muhlwasser's German publisher,
+amounting to a few shillings more than six pounds. And an announcement
+that the books were on the way.
+
+'Oh,' cried Dolores, 'I thought he was dead! He told me so! Uncle
+Alfred, I mean! And it was only to get the money! How could he be so
+wicked?'
+
+'I am afraid that was all he cared for.'
+
+'And what shall I do. Aunt Lily? Will you pay it, please, and take all
+my allowance till it is made up?'
+
+'I think it will be more comfortable for you if I do something of that
+sort, though I don't think you should go entirely without money. You
+have a pound a quarter. I was going to give you yours at once.'
+
+'Oh, take it--pray--'
+
+'Suppose I give you five shillings, instead of twenty. I do not think it
+well to leave you with nothing for a year and a half, and this is nearly
+what Mysie has.'
+
+'A shilling a month--very well. I wish I could pay it all at once!'
+
+'No doubt you do, my dear, but this will keep you in mind for a long
+time what a dangerous thing you did in giving away money you had no
+right to dispose of.'
+
+'Yes,' said Dolores. 'Mother earned money for him. I know she never took
+father's without asking him; but I couldn't earn, and couldn't ask.'
+
+Lady Merrifield kissed her, for very joy, to hear no sullenness in her
+tone; and then all went to church together on the New Year's day that
+was to be the beginning of better things. Lord Rotherwood had just time
+to go before meeting the train which was to take him to High Court,
+leaving his Fly too much used to his absences to be distressed about
+them, and, in fact, somewhat crazy about a notion which Gillian had
+started that morning, of getting up a little play to surprise him when
+he came back for Twelfth Day, as he promised to do.
+
+Mamma declared that if it was in French, and the words were learnt every
+morning before half-past eleven, it should supersede all other lessons;
+but such was the hatred of the whole boy faction to French, that they
+declared they had rather do rational sensible lessons twice over than
+learn such rot, and this carried the day. The drama proposed was
+that one in an old number of 'Aunt Judy,' where the village mayor is
+persuaded by the drummer to fine the girls for wearing lace caps. The
+French original existed in the house, and Fly started the idea that the
+male performers should speak English and the female French; but this was
+laughed down.
+
+In the midst Uncle Reginald came to the door and called, 'Lilias, can
+you speak to me a minute?'
+
+Lady Merrifield went out into the hall to him.
+
+'Here's a policeman come over, Lily. They have got the fellow!'
+'Flinders?'
+
+
+'Yes; arrested him on board a steamer at Bristol.'
+
+'Oh, I wish they had let it alone!'
+
+'So do I. They are bringing him back. The Darminster City bench
+sits to-day, and they want that unlucky child over there to make her
+deposition for his committal.'
+
+'Can't they commit him without her?'
+
+'Not for the forgery. The bank people are bent on prosecuting for that,
+and we can't stop them. I suppose she can be depended on?'
+
+'Reginald, don't! I told you the deceit was an unnatural growth from
+Constance's pseudo sentiment.'
+
+'Well, get her ready to come with me,' said the colonel, with a gesture
+of doubt; 'we must catch the 12.50. The superintendent brought a fly.'
+
+'You will frighten her out of her senses. I can't let her go alone with
+you in this mood.'
+
+'As you please, if you choose to knock yourself up. I'll tell the
+superintendent, and walk on to the station. You've not a moment to lose,
+so don't let her stand dawdling and crying.'
+
+It was a hard task for Lady Merrifield. She called Dolores, whom Mysie
+was inviting to be one of the village maidens, and bade her put on her
+things quickly. She ordered cold meat and wine into the dining-room,
+called Gillian into her room, and explained while dressing, and bade her
+keep the others away. Then, meeting Dolores on the stairs took her into
+the dining-room and made her swallow some cold beef, and drink some
+sherry, before telling her that the magistrates at Darminster wanted
+to ask her some questions. Dolores looked pale and frightened, and
+exclaimed,
+
+'Oh, but he has got away!'
+
+'My dear, I am grieved to say that he has not.'
+
+Dolores understood, and submitted more quietly and resignedly than her
+aunt had feared. She was a barrister's daughter, and once or twice her
+father had taken her and her mother part of the way on circuit with him,
+and she had been in court, so that she had known from the first that if
+her uncle were arrested there was no choice but that she must speak out.
+So she only trembled very much and said--
+
+'Aunt Lily, are you going with me?'
+
+'Indeed I am, my poor child. Uncle Regie is gone on.'
+
+No more was spoken then, but Dolores put her cold hand into her aunt's
+muff.
+
+Gillian kept all the flock prisoned in the schoolroom. Wilfred, Val, and
+Fergus rushed to the window, and were greatly disappointed not to see a
+policeman on the box, 'taking Dolores to be tried'--as Fergus declared,
+and Wilfred insisted, just because Gillian and Mysie contradicted it
+with all their might. He continued to repeat it with variations and
+exaggerations, until Jasper heard him, and declared that he should have
+a thorough good licking if he said so again, administering a cuff by way
+of earnest. Wilfred howled, and was ordered not to be such an ape, and
+Fly looked on in wonder at the domestic discipline.
+
+The superintendent had, in fact, walked on with Uncle Reginald, and
+Dolores saw nothing of him, but was put into an empty first-class
+carriage, into which her aunt followed her, but her uncle,
+observing, 'You know how to manage her, Lily,' betook himself to a
+smoking-carriage, and left them to themselves.
+
+Dolores was never a very talking girl, and the habit of silence had
+grown upon her. She leant against her aunt and she put her arm round
+her, and did not attempt to say anything till she asked,
+
+'Will he be there?'
+
+'I don't know, I am afraid he will. It is very sad for you, my poor
+Dolly; but we must recollect that, after all, it may be much better
+for him to be stopped now than to go on and get worse and worse in some
+strange country.'
+
+Dolores did not ask what she was to do, she knew enough already about
+trials to understand that she was only to answer questions, and she
+presently said,
+
+'This can't be his trial. There are no assizes now.'
+
+'No, this is only for the committal. It will very soon be over, if you
+will only answer quietly and steadily. If you do so, I think Uncle Regie
+will be pleased, and tell your father! I am sure I shall!'
+
+Dolores pressed up closer and laid her cheek against the soft sealskin.
+In the midst of her trouble there was a strange wonder in her. Could
+this be really the aunt whom she had thought so cruel, unjust, and
+tyrannical, and from whom she had so carefully hidden her feelings?
+Nobody got into the carriage, and just before reaching Darminster, Lady
+Merrifield made a great effort over her own shyness and said,
+
+'Now, Dolly, we will pray a little prayer that you may be a faithful
+witness, and that God may turn it, all to good for your poor uncle.'
+
+Dolores was very much surprised, and did not know whether she liked it
+or not, but she saw her aunt's closed eyes and uplifted hands, and she
+tried to follow the example.
+
+The train stopped, and her uncle came to the door, looking inquiringly
+at her.
+
+'She will be good and brave,' said her aunt; and quickly passing across
+the platform, Dolores found herself beside her aunt, with her uncle
+opposite in another fly.
+
+Things had been arranged for them considerately, and after they came to
+the Guildhall, where the city magistrates were sitting, Colonel Mohun
+went at once into court; the others were taken to a little room, and
+waited there a few minutes before Colonel Mohun came to call for his
+niece. It was a long room, with a rail at one end, and Dolores knew,
+with a strange thrill which made her shudder, that Mr. Flinders was
+there, but she could not bear to look at him, and only squeezed hard at
+the hand of her aunt, who asked, in a somewhat shaky voice, if she might
+come with her niece.
+
+'Certainly, certainly. Lady Merrifield,' said one of the magistrates,
+and chairs were set both for her and Colonel Mohun.
+
+'You are Miss Mohun, I think--may I ask your Christian name in full?'
+And then she had to spell it, and likewise tell her exact age, after
+which she was put on oath--as she knew enough of trials to expect.
+
+'Are you residing with Lady Merrifield?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'But your father is living?'
+
+'Yes, but he is in the Fiji Islands.'
+
+'Will you favour us with his exact name?'
+
+'Maurice Devereux Mohun.'
+
+'When did he leave England?'
+
+'The fifth of last September.'
+
+'Did he leave any money with you?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'In what form?'
+
+'A cheque on W----'s Bank.
+
+'To bearer or order?'
+
+'To order.'
+
+'What was the date?'
+
+'I think it was the 31st of August, but I am not sure.'
+
+'For how much?'
+
+'For seven pounds.'
+
+'When did you part with it?'
+
+'On the Friday before Christmas Day.'
+
+'Did you do anything to it first?'
+
+'I wrote my name on the back.'
+
+'What did you do with it.'
+
+'I sent it to--' her voice became a little hoarse, but she brought out
+the words--'to Mr. Flinders.'
+
+'Is this the same?'
+
+'Yes--only some one has put 'ty' to the 'seven' in writing, and 0 to the
+figure 7.'
+
+'Can you swear to the rest as your father's writing and your own?'
+
+The evidence of the banker's clerk as to the cashing of the cheque had
+been already taken, and the magistrate said, 'Thank you. Miss Mohun, I
+think the case is complete, and we need not trouble you any more.'
+
+But the prisoner's voice made Dolores start and shudder again, as he
+said,
+
+'I beg your pardon, sir, but you have not asked the young lady'--there
+was a sort of sneer in his voice--'how she sent this draft.'
+
+'Did not you send it direct by the post?' demanded the magistrate.
+
+'No; I gave it to--' Again she paused, and the words 'Gave it to--?'
+were authoritatively repeated, so that she had no choice.
+
+'I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send.'
+
+'You will observe, sir,' said Flinders, in a somewhat insolent tone,
+'that the evidence which the witness has been so ready to adduce is
+incomplete. There is another link between her hands and mine.'
+
+'You may reserve that point for your defence on your trial,' rejoined
+the magistrate. 'There is quite sufficient evidence for your committal.'
+
+There was already a movement to let Dolores be taken away by her uncle
+and aunt, so as to spare her from any reproach or impertinence that
+Flinders might launch at her. She was like some one moving in a dream,
+glad that her aunt should hold her hand as if she were a little child,
+saying, as they came out into the street, 'Very clearly and steadily
+done, Dolly! Wasn't it, Uncle Regie?'
+
+'Yes,' he said, absently. 'We must look out, or we shan't catch the 4.50
+train.'
+
+He almost threw them into a cab, and made the driver go his quickest,
+so that, after all, they had full ten minutes to spare. It made Dolores
+sick at heart to go near the waiting and refreshment-rooms where she and
+Constance had spent all that time with Flinders; but she could not bear
+to say so before her uncle, and he was bent on getting some food for
+Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Not soup, Regie; there might not be time to swallow it. A glass of milk
+for us each, please; we can drink that at once, and anything solid that
+we can take with us. I am sure your mouth must be dry, my dear.'
+
+Very dry it was, and Dolores gladly swallowed the milk, and found, when
+seated in the train, that she was really hungry enough to eat her full
+share of the sandwiches and buns which the colonel had brought in with
+him; and then she sat resting against her aunt, closed her eyes, and
+half dozed in the rattle of the train, not moving in the pause at the
+stations, but quite conscious that Colonel Mohun said, 'Not a spark of
+feeling for anybody, not even for that man! As hard as a stone!'
+
+'For shame, Regie!' said her aunt. 'How angry you would have been if she
+had made a scene.'
+
+'I should have liked her better.'
+
+'No, you wouldn't, when you come to understand. There's stuff in her,
+and depth too.'
+
+'Aye, she's deep enough.'
+
+'Poor child!' said Lady Merrifield, tenderly. And then the train went
+on, and the noise drowned the voices, so that Dolores only partly heard,
+'You will see how she will rise,' and the answer, 'You may be right; I
+hope so. But I can't get over deliberate deceit.'
+
+He settled himself in his corner, and Lady Merrifield durst not move nor
+raise her voice lest she should break what seemed such deep slumber,
+but which really was half torpor, half a dull dismay, holding fast eyes,
+lips, and limbs, and which really became sleep, so that Dolores did not
+hear the next bit of conversation during the ensuing halt.
+
+'I say, Lily, I did not like the fellow's last question. He means to
+give trouble about it.'
+
+'I was sorry the other name was brought in, but it must have come sooner
+or later.'
+
+'That's true; but if she can't swear to the figures on the draft, ten to
+one that the fellow will get off.'
+
+'You don't doubt--'
+
+'No, no; but there's the chance for the defence, and he was sharp enough
+to see it.'
+
+'There is nothing to be said or done about it, of course.'
+
+'Of course not. There's nothing for it but to let it alone.'
+
+They went on again, and when the train reached Silverton, Dolly was
+dreaming that her father had come, and that he said Uncle Alfred should
+be hanged unless she found the money for Professor Muhlwasser. She even
+looked about for him, and said, 'Where's father?' when she was wakened
+to get out.
+
+Gillian came up to her mother's room to hear what had happened, and to
+give an account of the day, which had gone off prosperously by Harry's
+help. He had kept excellent order at dinner, and 'there's something
+about Fly which makes even Wilfred be mannerly before her.' And then
+they had gone out and had made Fly free of the Thorn Fortress.
+
+'My dear, that must have been terribly damp and cold at this time of
+year.'
+
+'I thought of that, mamma, and so we didn't sit down, and made it a
+guerrilla war; only Fergus couldn't understand the difference between
+guerrillas and gorillas, and would thump upon himself and roar when they
+were in ambush.'
+
+'Rather awkward for the ambush!'
+
+'Yes, Wilfred said he was a traitor, and tied him to a tree, and then
+Fly found him crying, and would have let him out; but she couldn't get
+the knots undone; and what do you think? She made Wilfred cut the string
+himself with his own knife! I never knew such a girl for making every
+one do as she pleases. Then, when it got dark, we came in, and had a
+sort of a kind of a rehearsal, only that nobody knew any of the parts,
+or what each was to be.'
+
+'A sort of a kind, indeed, it must have been!'
+
+'But we think the play will be lovely! You can't think how nice Fly
+was. You know we settled for her to be Annette, the dear, funny, naughty
+girl, but as soon as she saw that Val wanted the part, she said she
+didn't care, and gave it up directly, and I don't think we ought to let
+her, and Hal thinks so too; and all the boys are very angry, and say
+Val will make a horrid mess of it. Then Mysie wanted to give up the good
+girl to Fly, and only be one of the chorus, but Fly says she had rather
+be one of the chorus ones herself than that. So we settled that you
+should fix the parts, and we would abide by your choice.'
+
+'I hope there was no quarrelling.'
+
+'N--no; only a little falling upon Val by the boys, and Fly put a stop
+to that. Oh, mamma, if it were only possible to turn Dolly into Fly! I
+can't help saying it, we seemed to get on so much better just because
+we hadn't poor Dolly to make a deadweight, and tempt the boys to be
+tiresome: while Fly made everything go off well. I can't describe it,
+she didn't in the least mean to keep order or interfere, but somehow
+squabbles seem to die away before her, and nobody wants to be
+troublesome.'
+
+'Dear little thing! It is a very sweet disposition. But, Gill, I do
+believe that we shall see poor Dolly take a turn now!'
+
+'Well! having quarrelled with that Constance is in her favour!'
+
+'Try and think kindly of her trouble. Gill, and then it will be easier
+to be kind to her.'
+
+Gillian sighed. Falsehood and determined opposition to her mother were
+the greatest possible crimes in her eyes; and at her age it was not easy
+to separate the sin from the sinner.
+
+New Year's night was always held to be one of especial merriment, but
+Lady Merrifield was so much tired out by her expedition that she hardly
+felt equal to presiding over any sports, and proposed that instead the
+young folk should dance. Gillian and Hal took turns to play for them,
+and Uncle Reginald and Fly were in equal request as partners. It was
+Mysie who came to draw Dolores out of her corner, and begged her to
+be her partner--'If you wouldn't very much rather not,' she said, in a
+pleading, wistful, voice.
+
+Dolores would 'very much rather not;' but she saw that Mysie would be
+left out altogether if she did not consent, as Hal was playing and Uncle
+Regie was dancing with Primrose. She thought of resolutions to turn over
+a new leaf, and not to refuse everything so she said, 'Yes, this once,'
+and it was wonderful how much freshened she felt by the gay motion, and
+perhaps by Mysie's merry, good-natured eyes and caressing hand. After
+that she had another turn with Gillian and one with Hal, and even one
+with Fergus because, as he politely informed her, no one else would have
+him for a quadrille. But, just as this was in progress, and she could
+not help laughing at his ridiculous mistakes and contempt of rules
+she met Uncle Reginald's eye fixed on her in wonder 'He thinks I don't
+care,' thought she to herself. All her pleasure was gone, and she moved
+so dejectedly that her aunt, watching from the sofa, called her and told
+her she was over-tired, and sent her to bed.
+
+Dolores was tired, but not in the way which made it harder instead of
+easier to sleep, or, rather, she slept just enough to relax her full
+consciousness and hold over herself, and bring on her a misery of terror
+and loneliness, and feeling of being forsaken by the whole world. And
+when she woke fully enough to understand the reality, it was no better;
+she felt, then, the position she had put herself into, and almost saw
+in the dark, Flinders's malicious vindictive glance Constance's anger,
+Uncle Regie's cold, severe look and, worse than all, her father reading
+her letter'
+
+She fell again into an agony of sobbing, not without a little hope
+that Aunt Lily would be again brought to her side. At last the door was
+softly pushed open in the dark, but it was not Aunt Lily, it was Mysie's
+little bare feet that patted up to the bed, her arms that embraced,
+her cheek that was squeezed against the tearful one--'Oh, Dolly, Dolly!
+please don't cry so sadly!'
+
+'Oh! it is so dreadful, Mysie!'
+
+'Are you ill--like the other night?'
+
+'No--but--Mysie--I can't bear it!'
+
+'I don't want to call mamma,' said Mysie, thoughtfully, 'for she is so
+much tired, and Uncle Regie and Gill said she would be quite knocked up,
+and got her to come up to bed when we went. Dolly, would it be better if
+I got into your bed and cuddled you up?'
+
+'Oh yes! oh yes! please do, there's a dear good Mysie.'
+
+There was not much room, but that mattered the less, and the hugging
+of the warm arms seemed to heal the terrible sense of being unloved and
+forsaken, the presence to drive away the visions of angry faces that had
+haunted her; but there was the longing for fellow-feeling on her, and
+she said, 'That's nice! Oh, Mysie! you can't think what it is like!
+Uncle Regie said I didn't care, and he could never forgive deliberate
+deceit--and I was so fond of Uncle Regie!'
+
+'Oh! but he will, if you never tell a story again,' said Mysie--and,
+as she felt a gesture implying despair--'Yes, they do; I told a story
+once.'
+
+'You, Mysie! I thought you never did?'
+
+'Yes, once, when we were crossing to Ireland and nurse wouldn't let
+Wilfred tie our handkerchiefs together and fish over the side, and
+he was very angry, and threw her parasol into the sea when she wasn't
+looking; and I knew she would be so cross, that when she asked me if I
+knew what was become of it, I said 'No,' and thought I didn't, really.
+But then it came over me, again and again, that I had told a story, and,
+oh! I was so miserable whenever I thought of it--at church, and saying
+my prayers, you know; and mamma was poorly, and couldn't come to us at
+night for ever so long, but at last I could bear it no longer, I heard
+her say, 'Mysie is always truthful,' and then I did get it out, and told
+her. And, oh! she and papa were so kind, and they did quite and entirely
+forgive me!'
+
+'Yes, you told of your own accord; and they were your own--not Uncle
+Regie. Ah! Mysie, everybody hates me. I saw them all looking at me.'
+
+'No, no! Don't say such things. Dolly. None of us do anything so
+shocking.'
+
+'Yes, Jasper does, and Wilfred and Val!'
+
+'No! no! no! they don't hate; only they are tiresome sometimes; but if
+you wouldn't be cross they would be nice directly--at least Japs and
+Val. And 'tisn't hating with Willie, only he thinks teasing is fun.'
+
+'And you and Gillian. You can only just bear me.
+
+'No! no! no!' with a great hug, 'that's not true.'
+
+'You like Fly ever so much better!'
+
+'She is so dear, and so funny,' said Mysie, the truthful, 'but somehow,
+Dolly dear, do you know, I think if you and I got to love one another
+like real friends, it would be nicer still than even Fly--because
+you are here like one of us, you know; and besides, it would be more,
+because you are harder to get at. Will you be my own friend. Dolly?'
+
+'Oh, Mysie, I must!' and there was a fresh kissing and hugging.
+
+'And there's mamma,' added Mysie.
+
+'Yes, I know Aunt Lily does now; but, oh! if you had seen Uncle Alfred's
+face, and heard Uncle Regie,' and Dolly began to sob again as they
+returned on her. 'I see them whenever I shut my eyes!'
+
+'Darling,' whispered Mysie, 'when I feel bad at night, I always kneel up
+in bed and say my prayers again!'
+
+'Do you ever feel bad?'
+
+'Oh yes, when I'm frightened, or if I've been naughty, and haven't told
+mamma. Shall we do it, Dolly?'
+
+'I don't know what that has to do with it, but we'll try.'
+
+'Mamma told me something to say out of.'
+
+The two little girls rose up, with clasped hands in their bed, and Mysie
+whispered very low, but so that her companion heard, and said with her a
+few childish words of confession, pleading and entreating for strength,
+and then the Lord's Prayer, and the sweet old verse:--
+
+
+         'I lay my body down to sleep,
+          I give my soul to Christ to keep,
+          Wake I at morn, as wake I never,
+          I give my soul to Christ for ever.'
+
+
+'Ah! but I am afraid of that. I don't like it,' said Dolores, as they
+lay down again.
+
+'It won't make one never wake,' returned Mysie; 'and I do like to give
+my soul to Christ. It seems so to rest one, and make one not afraid.'
+
+'I don't know,' said Dolores; 'and why did you say the Lord's Prayer?
+That hasn't anything to do with it!'
+
+'Oh, Dolly, when He is our Father near, though our own dear fathers
+are far away, and there's deliver us from evil--all that hurts us, you
+know-and forgive us. It's all there.'
+
+'I never thought that,' said Dolores. 'I think you have some different
+prayers from mine. Old nurse taught me long ago. I wish you would always
+say yours with me. You make them nicer.'
+
+Mysie answered with a hug, and a murmured 'If I can,' and offered to
+say the 121st Psalm, her other step to comfort, and, as she said it, she
+resolved in her mind whether she could grant Dolores's request; for
+she was not sure whether she should be allowed to leave her room before
+saying her own, and she I knew enough of Dolores by this time to be
+aware that to say she would ask mamma's leave would put an end to all.
+'I know,' was her final decision; 'I'll say my own first, and then come
+to Dolly's room.'
+
+But by that time Dolores was asleep, even if Mysie had not been too
+sleepy to speak.
+
+She meant to have rushed to the room she shared with Valetta before it
+was time to get up, but Lots found the black head and the brown together
+on Dolores's pillow, wrapped in slumber; and though Mysie flew home as
+soon as she was well awake, Mrs. Halfpenny descended on her while she
+was yet in her bath, and inflicted a sharp scolding for the malpractice
+of getting into her cousin's bed.
+
+'But Dolly was so miserable, nurse, and mamma was too tired to call.'
+
+'Then you should have called me, Miss Mysie, and I'd have sorted her
+well! You kenned well 'tis a thing not to be done and at your age; ye
+should have minded your duties better.'
+
+And nurse even intercepted Mysie on her way to Dolores's room, and
+declared she would have no messing and gossiping in one another's rooms.
+Miss Mysie was getting spoilt among strangers.
+
+Mysie went down with a strong sense of having been disobedient, as well
+as of grief for Dolores's disappointment. Happily mamma was late that
+morning, and nobody was in her room but Primrose. Poor Mysie had soon,
+with tears in her eyes, confessed her transgression. Her mother's tears,
+to her great surprise, were on her cheek together with a kiss. 'Dear
+child, I am not displeased. Indeed, I am not; I will tell nurse. It must
+not be a habit, but this was an exception, and I am only thankful you
+could comfort her.
+
+'And, mamma, may I go now to her. She said I could help her to say her
+prayers, and I think she only has little baby ones that her nurse taught
+her and she doesn't see into the Lord's Prayer.'
+
+'My dear, my dear, if you can help her to pray you will do the thing
+most sure to be a blessing to her of all.'
+
+And when Mysie was gone, Lady Merrifield knelt down afresh in
+thankfulness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. -- MYSIE AND DOLORES.
+
+
+
+Things were going on more quietly at Silverton. That is to say, there
+were no outward agitations, for the house was anything but quiet. Lady
+Merrifield had no great love for children's parties, where, as she said,
+they sat up too late, to eat and drink what was not good for them, and
+to get presents that they did not care about; and though at Dublin
+it had been necessary on her husband's account to give and take such
+civilities, she had kept out of the exchange at Silverton. But, on the
+other hand, there were festivals, and she promoted a full amount of
+special treats at home among themselves, or with only an outsider
+or two, and she endured any amount of noise, provided it was not
+quarrelsome, over-boisterous, or at unfit times.
+
+There was the school tea, and magic-lantern, when Mr. Pollock acted as
+exhibitor, and Harry as spokesman, and worked them up gradually from
+grave and beautiful scenes like the cedars of Lebanon, the Parthenon and
+Colosseum, with full explanations, through dissolving views of cottage
+and bridge by day and night, summer and winter, of life-boat rescue,
+and the siege of Sevastopol, with shells flying, on to Jack and
+the Beanstalk and the New Tale of a Tub, the sea-serpent, and the
+nose-grinding! Lady Phyllis's ecstacy was surpassing, more especially as
+she found her beloved little maid-of-all-work, and was introduced to all
+that small person's younger brothers and sisters.
+
+Here they met Miss Hacket, who was in charge of a class. She comported
+herself just as usual, and Gillian's dignity and displeasure gave way
+before her homely cordiality. Constance had not come, as indeed nothing
+but childhood, sympathy with responsibility for childhood, could make
+the darkness, stuffiness, and noise of the exhibition tolerable. Even
+Lady Merrifield trusted her flock to its two elders, and enjoyed a
+tete-a-tete evening with her brother, who profited by it to advise her
+strongly to send Dolores to their sister Jane before harm was done to
+her own children.
+
+'I would not see that little Mysie of yours spoilt for all the world,'
+said he.
+
+'Nor I; but I don't think it likely to happen.'
+
+'Do you know that they are always after each other, chattering in their
+bedrooms at night. I hear them through the floor.'
+
+'Only one night--Mysie told me all about it--I believe Mysie will do
+more for that poor child than any of us.'
+
+Uncle Regie shrugged his shoulders a little.
+
+'Yes, I know I was wrong before, when I wouldn't take Jane's warning;
+but that was not about one of my own, and, besides, poor Dolores is very
+much altered.'
+
+'I'll tell you what, Lily, when any one, I don't care who, man, or
+woman, or child, once is given up to that sort of humbug and deceit,
+carrying it on a that girl, Dolores, had done, I would never trust again
+an inch beyond what I could see. It eats into the very marrow of the
+bones--everything is acting afterwards.'
+
+'That would be saying no repentance was possible--that Jacob never could
+become Israel.'
+
+'I only say I have never seen it.'
+
+'Then I hope you will, nay, that you do. I believe your displeasure is
+the climax of all Dolly's troubles.'
+
+But Colonel Reginald Mohun could not forgive the having been so entirely
+deceived where he had so fully trusted; and there was no shaking his
+opinion that Dolores was essentially deceitful and devoid of feeling and
+that the few demonstrations of emotion that were brought before him were
+only put on to excite the compassion of her weakly, good-natured aunt,
+so he only answered, 'You always were a soft one Lily.'
+
+To which she only answered, 'We shall see knowing that in his present
+state of mind he would only set down the hopeful tokens that she
+perceived either to hypocrisy on the girl's side, or weakness on hers.
+
+Dolores had indeed gone with the others rather because she could
+not bear remaining to see her uncle's altered looks than because she
+expected much pleasure. And she had the satisfaction of sitting by
+Mysie, and holding her hand, which had become a very great comfort
+in her forlorn state--so great that she forebore to hurt her cousin's
+feelings by discoursing of the dissolving views she had seen at a London
+party. Also she exacted a promise that this station should always be
+hers.
+
+Mysie, on her side, was in some of the difficulties of a popular
+character, for Fly felt herself deserted, and attacked her on the first
+opportunity.
+
+'What does make you always go after Dolly instead of me, Mysie? Do you
+like her so much better?'
+
+'Oh no! but you have them all, and she has nobody.'
+
+'Well, but she has been so horridly naughty, hasn't she?'
+
+'I don't think she meant it.'
+
+'One never does. At least, I'm sure I don't--and mamma always says it is
+nonsense to say that.'
+
+'I'm not sure whether it is always,' said Mysie, thoughtfully, 'for
+sometimes one does worse than one knows. Once I made a mouse-trap of a
+beautiful large sheet of bluey paper, and it turned out to be an order
+come down to papa. Mamma and Alethea gummed it up as well as ever they
+could again, but all the officers had to know what had happened to it.'
+
+'And were you punished?'
+
+'I was not allowed to go into papa's room without one of the elder ones
+till after my next birthday, but that wasn't so bad as papa's being so
+vexed, and everybody knowing it; and Major Denny would talk about mice
+and mouse-traps every time he saw me till I quite hated my name.'
+
+'And I'm sure you didn't mean to cut up an important paper.'
+
+'No; but I did do a little wrong, for we had no leave to take anything
+not quite in the waste basket, and this had been blown off the table,
+and was on the floor outside. They didn't punish me so much I think
+because of that. Papa said it was partly his own fault for not securing
+it when he was called off. You see little wrongs that one knows turn
+out great wrongs that one would never think of, and that is so very
+dreadful, and makes me so very sorry for Dolores.'
+
+'I didn't think you would like a cross, naughty girl like that more than
+your own Fly.'
+
+'No, no! Fly, don't say that. I don't really like her half so well, you
+know, only if you would help me to be kind to her.'
+
+'I am sure my mother wouldn't wish me to have anything to do with her.
+I don't think she would have let me come here if she had known what sort
+of girl she is.'
+
+'But your papa knew when he left you--'
+
+'Oh, papa! yes; but he can never see anything amiss in a Mohun; I
+heard her say so. And he wants me to be friends with you; dear, darling
+friends like him and your Uncle Claude, Mysie, so you must be, and not
+be always after that Dolores.'
+
+'I want to be friends with both. One can have two friends.'
+
+'No! no! no! not two best friends. And you are my best friend, Mysie,
+ever so much better than Alberta Fitzhugh, if only you'll come always to
+me this little time when I'm here, and sit by me instead of that Dolly.'
+
+'I do love you very much, Fly.'
+
+'And you'll sit by me at the penny reading to-night?'
+
+'I promised Dolly. But she may sit on the other side.'
+
+'No,' said Phyllis, with jealous perverseness. 'I don't care if that
+Dolly is to be on the other side, you'll talk to nobody but her! Now,
+Mysie, I had been writing to ask daddy to let you come home with me, you
+yourself, to the Butterfly's Ball, but if you won't sit by me, you may
+stay with your dear Dolores.'
+
+'Oh, Fly! When you know I promised, and there is the other side.'
+
+But Fly had been courted enough by all the cousinhood to have become
+exacting and displeased at having any rival to the honour of her
+hand--so she pouted and said, 'I don't care about it, if you have her. I
+shall sit between Val and Jasper.'
+
+One must be thirteen, with a dash of the sentiment of a budding
+friendship, to enter into all that 'sitting by' involves; and in Mysie's
+case, here was her compassionate promise standing not only between
+her and the avowed preference of one so charming as Fly, but possibly
+depriving her of the chances of the wonders of the Butterfly's Ball. No
+wonder that disconsolate tears came into her eyes as she uttered another
+pleading, 'Oh, Fly, how can you?'
+
+'You must choose,' said the offended young lady; 'you can't have us
+both.'
+
+To which argument she stuck, being offended as well as scandalized at
+being set aside for such a culprit as Dolores, whose misdemeanours and
+discourtesy were equally shocking to her imagination.
+
+Mysie could confide her troubles to no one, for she was aware that
+caring about sitting together was treated by the elders as egregious
+folly; but a promise was a promise with her, and she held staunchly to
+her purpose, though between Dolores and Miss Vincent she lost all those
+delightful asides which enhanced the charms of the amusing parts of the
+penny reading and beguiled the duller ones--of which there were many,
+since it was more concert than penny reading, people being rather shy of
+committing themselves to reading--Hal, Mr. Pollock and the schoolmaster
+being the only volunteers in that line.
+
+Gillian had, sorely against the grain, to play a duet with Constance
+Hacket. The two young ladies had met one another with freezing civility
+in the classroom, and to those who understood matters, the stiffness of
+their necks and shoulders, as they sat at the piano, spoke unutterable
+things. But there had never been any real liking between Constance and
+the younger Merrifields, and the mother did not trouble herself much
+about this, knowing that the vexation of the elder sister, about whom
+she did care, would pass off with friendly intercourse.
+
+Fly's displeasure did not last long, for Mysie bad more attractions for
+her than any one else, and she was a good-humoured creature. There was a
+joyous Twelfth-Night, with home-made cake and home-characters, prepared
+by mamma and Gillian, and followed up by games, in which Dolores had
+a share, promoted by her aunt, who was very anxious to keep her from
+feeling set apart from every one; but this was difficult to manage, as
+she was so generally disliked, that even Gillian was only good-natured
+to her in accordance with her mother's desire that she should not be
+treated as 'out of the pale of humanity.' Mysie alone sought her out and
+brought her forward with any real earnestness, and good little Mysie
+had a somewhat difficult part to play between kindness to her and Fly's
+occasional little jealous tiffs and decided disapproval. Mysie never
+thought, however, about the situation or its difficulties, she simply
+followed the moment's call of kindness to Dolores, and, when it was
+possible, followed her own inclinations, and enjoyed Fly's lively
+society.
+
+And Dolores was certainly softening and improving. A word to Mrs.
+Halfpenny had secured the two girls being permitted to say their prayers
+together in Dolores's room unmolested; and what was a reality to a
+contemporary became less and less to Dolores a mere lesson imposed by
+the authority of an elder. That link between religious instruction and
+daily life, which is all important, yet so difficult to find, was being
+gradually put into Dolores's hands by her little cousin-friend. Lady
+Merrifield hoped and guessed it might be thus, from the questions that
+Mysie asked her at times, and from the quickened attention Dolores
+showed to her religious lessons, and her less dull and indifferent air
+at church.
+
+It could not be said that she was different with the others. She was
+depressed, and wanted spirits for enjoyment, nor would active romping
+diversions ever be pleasant to her. She had not the nature for them,
+and was not young enough to learn to like them. It could not but seem
+foolish to her to race about as a Croat or a savage, and she only beheld
+with wonder Gillian's genuine delight in games not merely entered into
+for the sake of the little ones. But there was a strong devotion growing
+up in her to her aunt and to Mysie, and what they asked of her she
+did--even when on a wet day her aunt condemned her to learn battledore
+and shuttle-cock of Gillian, who was equally to be pitied for the
+awkwardness of her pupil and the banter of her brothers, while Dolly
+picked up her shuttlecock and tossed it off with grim determination, as
+if doing penance for this dismal half hour. She managed better in the
+games where ready sharpness of intellect or memory was wanted, and she
+liked these, and would have liked them still better if Uncle Reginald
+had not always looked astonished if she laughed.
+
+She did her part, too, in the little play, being one of the chorus
+of the maidens who 'make a vow to make a row.' Lady Merrifield had,
+according to the general request, saved disputes by casting the parts,
+Gillian being the sage old woman who brought the damsels to reason. Fly,
+the prime mover of the tumult, and Mysie, her confidante, while Val and
+Dolly made up the mob. A little manipulation of skirts, tennis-aprons,
+ribbons, and caps made very nice peasant costumes. Hal was the
+self-important Bailli, and Jasper the drummer, the part of gens-d'armes
+being all that Wilfred and Fergus could be trusted with.
+
+Lord Rotherwood came back, and his little daughter's ecstacy was goodly
+to see, as she danced about her daddy, almost bursting with the secret
+of what he was to see after dinner, and showing herself so brilliantly
+well and happy that he congratulated himself upon her mother's
+satisfaction.
+
+While the elders were at dinner, Gillian, with Miss Vincent's help,
+finished off the arrangements. There were no outsiders, except the Vicar
+and Mr. Pollock who had been asked to dinner, for Lady Merrifield said
+she never liked to make her children an exhibition.
+
+'You are an old-fashioned Lily,' said her cousin, 'and happily not
+concerned with popularity. It is a fine thing to be able to consult
+one's children's absolute best.'
+
+The performance went off beautifully--at least so thought both actors
+and spectators. The dignity of the Bailli and the meddling of the
+drummer were alike delightful; Fly was charmingly arch and mutinous;
+Mysie very straightforward; and the least successful personation was
+that of Gillian, who had a fit of stage-fright, forgot sentences, and
+whirred her spinning-wheel nervously, all the worse for being scolded by
+her brothers behind the scenes, and assured that she was making a mull
+of the whole affair. And she had been so spirited at the rehearsals,
+but she was at a self-conscious age, and could not forget the four
+spectators. Very little was required of Dolores, but that little she
+did simply and well, and Lord Rotherwood, after watching her all the
+evening, observed to Lady Merrifield, 'I should say your difficulties
+were diminishing, are they not? The thunder-cloud seems to be a little
+lightened.'
+
+'I am so glad you think so, Rotherwood. I feel sure that all this
+distress has drawn her nearer to us, only Regie won't believe it.'
+
+'Regie is prejudiced.'
+
+'Is he? I thought him specially fond of Maurice's child, and that this
+was revulsion of feeling; but what I am afraid of is, that he will never
+believe in her or like her again, whatever she may be, and she is really
+fond of him.'
+
+'Yes, Reginald is not over disposed to believe in any woman's
+truth--outside his own family and sisters. Poor fellow! I can't say he
+was well used.'
+
+'What? I suppose he has bad his romance like other people--his little
+episode, as my husband calls it.'
+
+'Yes; and I am afraid we were accountable for it. You remember we were
+at Harthope Castle for the first two years after I was married, while
+Rotherwood was brought up to the requirements of the Victorian age.
+
+The --th was quartered at Harfield, within easy distance, and a splendid
+looking fellow like Regie was invaluable to Victoria, whenever she
+wanted anything to go off well. Well, in those days I had a ward, my
+mother's great niece, Maude Conway. A pretty winsome creature it was,
+and an heiress in a moderate sort of way, and poor old Redge, after all
+his little affairs, and he had had his share of them, was evidently in
+for it at last. Victoria thought, as well as myself, it was the best
+thing for them both. He was the sound-hearted, good fellow to keep her
+matters straight, and she had enough for comfort without overweighting
+the balance. So they were engaged but unluckily they had to wait till
+she was of age, about eight months off, and they were both ridiculously
+shy, and would not have the thing known, though Victoria said it was
+unwise. I don't think even Jane suspected it.'
+
+'No; I don't think she could have done so.'
+
+'Well, there was the season, and Victoria was not in condition for going
+out, and Maude was all for staying quietly with her; but old Lady Conway
+came about--a regular schemer--a woman I never could abide. She had
+married off her own daughters, and wanted her niece to practise on, that
+was the fact. Victoria says she always knew that she, Maude I mean, was
+very impressionable and impulsive, and so she wanted to have her out of
+harm's way; but one could not prevent her aunt from getting hold of her
+and taking her out. Then people told us of her goings on with that scamp
+Clanmacklosky and that sister of his. Victoria talked to her by the
+yard, but she denied it, and we thought it all gossip. Regie came up for
+a couple of nights, and she was as sweet on him as ever, and sent him
+away thinking it all right; but the end of it was, she fought off going
+down to Rotherwood with us, but went to Brighton with Lady Conway, and
+the next thing we heard was that she wrote to throw Reginald over, and
+she married Clanmacklosky a month after she was twenty-one! I don't
+think I ever saw Victoria so cut up, for we had really liked the girl
+and thought well of her. To this hour I believe it was all that woman's
+doing, and that poor Maude has supped sorrow. She has lost all her good
+looks.'
+
+'And Regie has never got over it?'
+
+'Not so as to believe in a woman again.'
+
+'He used to be rather a joke for susceptibility, and was still a regular
+boy when we went out to Gibraltar. I thought him much graver.'
+
+'Exactly; since that affair his soul has gone into his regiment. It's a
+wife to him, and luckily he got his promotion in time, so as not to be
+shelved.'
+
+'I suppose it was really an escape.'
+
+'I don't know--she would have done very well in his hands. She is the
+sort of woman to be as you make her, and even now is a world too good
+for Clan. Victoria can never be quite cordial with her, but I can't see
+the poor harassed thing without thinking what a sweet creature she once
+was, and wishing I'd had the sense to look after her better. But what
+I came here for, Lily, was to say you must let me have that Mysie of
+yours, since you won't come yourself to this concern of ours. I'm afraid
+you won't think much good has come of us, but we couldn't do the Country
+Mouse much harm in a fortnight; and you know it is the wish of my heart
+that my lonely Fly should grow up on such terms with your flock as
+Florence and I did with you all.'
+
+He pleaded quite piteously, and he was backed up by a letter from his
+wife, very grateful for her little Phyllis's happy visit, reiterating
+the invitation to Lady Merrifield, and begging that if she still could
+not come herself, she would at least send Jasper and Mysie for the
+Butterfly's Ball. Mysie's fancy dress would be ready for her, only
+waiting for the final touches after it was tried on. Lady Florence
+Devereux, too, was near at hand, and wrote to promise to look after
+Mysie.
+
+There was no refusing after this. Lady Florence was not far from being
+like a sister to her cousins. She had tended her mother's old age, and
+had subsequently settled down into the lady of all work of Rotherwood
+parish. Lady Merrifield had much confidence in her, and indeed all she
+saw of Fly gave her a great respect for Lady Rotherwood's management
+of her child. Harry was going to his uncle's at Beechcroft for some
+shooting, and would bring Mysie home when Jasper went back to school.
+
+So Gillian was called to her mother's room to be told first of the
+arrangement, which certainly in some aspects was rather hard on her.
+
+'I could not help it, my dear,' said Lady Merrifield, 'without
+absolutely asking for an invitation for you.'
+
+'No, mamma; and it is Mysie who is Fly's friend, being the same age and
+all. It is quite right, and I understand it.'
+
+'My dear, I am so glad I can do such a thing as this. If there were
+small jealousies among you, I could not venture on letting you be set
+aside, for I know the disappointment was quite as great to you as to
+Mysie, when we gave it up.'
+
+'But she was better about it than I,' said Gillian; 'mamma, your
+trusting me in that way is better than a dozen balls. Besides, I know
+I should hate being there without you; I'm a great old thing, as Jasper
+says, neither fish nor fowl, you know, not come out, and not a little
+girl in the schoolroom, and it would be very horrid going to a grand
+place like that on one's own account.'
+
+'That's right, Gillyflower. 'Tis very wholesome to discover the sourness
+of the grapes. And as I think grandmamma is really coming, I shall want
+you at home, and to look after Dolores.'
+
+'That's the worst of it, mamma; I shall never get on with her as Mysie
+does.'
+
+'We must do our best, for I do think really the poor child is
+improving.'
+
+'Lessons will begin again! That's one comfort,' said Gillian, rather
+quaintly, thinking of the length of time that Dolores would thus be off
+her hands.
+
+'And now call Mysie. I must speak to her.'
+
+As for Mysie, she was in a state of rapture. She knew her bliss before
+her mother had communicated it, for Lord Rotherwood could not refrain
+from telling his daughter that consent was gained, and Fly darted
+headlong to embrace Mysie, dance round her and rejoice. The boys
+declared that Mysie at once sprang into the air like a chamois, and that
+her head touched the ceiling, but this is believed to be a figment of
+Jasper's.
+
+It was only on the summons to her mother's room that Mysie discovered
+that Gillian was not going with her. It dimmed the lustre of her delight
+for a little while, 'Oh, Gill, aren't you very sorry? You ought to have
+had the first turn.'
+
+'Never mind, Mysie, you are Fly's friend,'--and the two sisters' looks
+at one another at that moment were a real pleasure to their mother.
+
+Mysie was of a less shy nature than Gillian, as well as at a less
+awkward age, so that the visiting without her mother was less
+formidable, and she rushed about wild with delight; but Dolores was very
+disconsolate.
+
+'Every one I care for goes away and changes,' she said in her melancholy
+little sentiment.
+
+'But it's only for a fortnight, Dolly, I don't think I could change so
+fast.'
+
+'Oh yes, you will, among all those swells. You like Fly ever so much
+better than me.'
+
+Mysie looked grieved and puzzled, but then exclaimed, in the tone of a
+discovery, 'There are different sorts of likings, Dolly, don't you see.
+I do love Fly very much, but you know you are like a sort of almost twin
+sister to me. I like her best, but I care about you most!'
+
+With which curious distinction Dolores had to put up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. -- A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS.
+
+
+
+Colonel Mohun took Wilfred to his school, which began its term earlier
+than did Jasper's, and Silver-ton was wonderfully quiet. The elder Mrs.
+Merrifield was not to come for nearly a week, so that it would have been
+possible for her daughter-in-law to go to the Rotherwood festivities
+without interfering with her visit, but this no one except Gillian and
+Mysie knew, and they kept the secret well.
+
+The departure of the boys was a great relief to Dolores. Her aunt did
+not rank her with Valetta and Fergus, but let her consort with herself
+and Gillian, and this suited her much better. Even Gillian allowed that
+she was ever so much nicer when there was no one to tease her. It was
+true that Jasper certainly, and perhaps Wilfred, would not have molested
+her if she had not offended the latter, and offered herself as fair
+game; but Gillian, who had to forestall and prevent their pranks, could
+not feel their absence quite the privation her sisterly spirit usually
+did!
+
+Valetta and Fergus were harmless without them, but they were forlorn,
+being so much used to having their sports led by their two seniors that
+they hardly knew what to do without them, and the entreaty, or rather
+the whine, 'I want something to do,' was heard unusually often. This led
+to Gillian's being often called off to attend to them during the course
+of wet days that ensued, and thus Dolores was a good deal alone with her
+aunt, who was superintending her knitting a pair of silk stockings to
+send out to her father, it was hoped in time for his next birthday.
+
+At the first proposal, Dolores looked dull and unwilling, and at last
+she squeezed out, 'I don't think father will ever want me to do anything
+for him again.'
+
+'My poor child, do you think a father does not forgive and love all the
+more one who is in deep sorrow for a fault?'
+
+'I don't think my letter seemed sorry! I was not half so sorry then as I
+am now,' then at a kind word from her aunt her eyes overflowed, and she
+said, 'No, I wasn't; I didn't know how good you were, or how bad I was!'
+
+And when Aunt Lily kissed her, she put her arms round the kind neck that
+bent down to her, and laid her head against it, as if it was quite a
+rest to feel that love. Her aunt encouraged her to write again to her
+father, and to try to express something of her grief and entreaty
+for forgiveness, and she was somewhat cheered after this; as though
+something of the load on her mind was removed. One day she brought down
+all the books in her room and said, 'Please, Aunt Lily, look at them,
+and let them be with the rest in the schoolroom, I want to be just like
+the others.'
+
+Lady Merrifield was much pleased with this surrender. Some of the books
+were really well worth having and reading, indeed, the best of them
+she knew, but there were eight or ten which she suspected of being what
+Mysie called silly stories, and she kept them back to look over. She
+had been trying in this quiet interval to get Dolly to read something
+besides mere childish stories for recreation; and when she saw how well
+worn the story books were, and how untouched the 'easy history,' and the
+books about animals and foreign countries were, she saw why so clever a
+girl as Dolores seemed so stupid about everything she had not learnt as
+a lesson, and entirely ignorant of English poetry.
+
+Lady Merrifield read to her and Gillian in the evenings, and how they
+did enjoy it, and bemoaned the coming of grandmamma, to spoil their
+snugness and occupy 'mamma.' For Dolores began so to call Lady
+Merrifield. She had never so termed her own mother, and it seemed to
+her that with the words 'Aunt Lily' she put away all sorts of foolish,
+sinister feelings.
+
+'Mrs. Merrifield was a wonderful old lady, brisk of mind and body,
+though of great age. She had been spending Christmas with her eldest
+son, the Admiral, at Stokesley, and was going to take on her way the
+daughter-in-law, of whom she knew but little in comparison; and with her
+she brought the granddaughter, Elizabeth Merrifield, who--since her own
+daughter had died--generally lived with her in London, to take care of
+her.
+
+'It will be all company and horrid, and nobody will be allowed to make a
+noise!' sighed Valetta to Fergus, as the waggonette, well shut up, drove
+to the door.
+
+'There's cousin Bessie,' said Fergus.
+
+'Oh, cousin Bessie is thirty-four, and that is as bad as being as old as
+grandmamma!'
+
+And they hung back while the old lady was helped out, and brought across
+the hall into the warm drawing-room before her fur cloak was taken off.
+There was a quiet little person with her, and Val whispered, 'She'll be
+just like Aunt Jane.'
+
+But the eyes that Bessie turned on her cousins were not at an like Aunt
+Jane's little searching black ones. They were of a dark shade of grey,
+and had a wonderful softness and sweetness in them. Gillian knew her
+a little already, but very little, for there had always been the elder
+sisters at their former short meetings. Mamma lamented that there should
+be so few grandchildren at home to be shown, though, as she said, 'the
+full number might have been too noisy.'
+
+Grandmamma shook her head. 'I like the house full,' she said, 'I'm all
+right, but it is a pity to see the nest emptied, like Stokesley, now.
+Nobody left at home but Susan and little Sally! Make the most of them
+while you have them about you!'
+
+The old lady was quite delighted to find Primrose so nearly a baby, and
+to have one grandchild still quite as small or smaller than some of
+her great grandchildren whom she had never seen. Her great pleasure,
+however, soon proved to be in talking about her son Jasper, and hearing
+all his wife could tell her about his life in India; and as Lady
+Merrifield liked no other subject so well, they were very happy
+together, and quite absorbed.
+
+Meanwhile Bessie made herself a companion to Gillian and Dolores, and
+though so much older, seemed to consider herself as a girl like them.
+Then, living for the most part in town, she could talk about London
+matters to Dolly, and this was a great treat, while yet she had country
+tastes enough to suit Gillian, and was not in the least afraid of a
+long walk to the fir plantations to pick up Weymouth pine cones, and the
+still more precious pinaster ones.
+
+For the first time Gillian began to see Dolores as Uncle Reginald used
+to know her, free from that heavy mist of sullen dislike to everything
+and everybody. It seemed to bring them together, but, in spite of
+Bessie's charms, they both continually missed Mysie, out of doors and
+in, in schoolroom and drawing-room, and, above all, in Dolly's bedroom.
+She seemed to be, as Gillian told Bessie, 'a sort of family cement,
+holding the two ends, big and little, together;' and Bessie responded
+that her elder sister Susan was one of that sort.
+
+The evenings now were quite unlike the usual ones. Dinner was late, and
+the two girls came down to it. Afterwards the young ones sat round the
+fire in the hall, where Bessie, who was a wonderful story-teller, kept
+Fergus and Valetta quiet and delighted, either with invented tales or
+histories of the feats of her own brothers and sisters, who were so
+much older than their Silverton first cousins as to be like an elder
+generation.
+
+When the two young ones were gone to bed, the others came into the
+drawing-room, where mamma and grandmamma were to be found, either going
+over papa's letters, or else Mrs. Merrifield talking about her Stokesley
+grandchildren, the same whose pranks Bessie had just been telling, so
+that it was not easy to believe in Sam, a captain in the navy. Harry
+and John farming in Canada, David working as a clergy-man in the Black
+Country, George in a government office, Anne a clergyman's wife, and
+mother to the great grandchildren who were always being compared to
+Primrose, Susan keeping her father's house, and Sarah, though as old as
+Alethea, still treated as the youngest--the child of the family.
+
+The bits of conversation came to the girls as they sat over their work,
+and Bessie would join in, and tell interesting things, till she saw that
+grandmamma was ready for her nap, and then one or other gave a little
+music, during which Dolly's bed-time generally came.
+
+'You can't think how grateful I am to you for helping to brighten up
+that poor child in a wholesome way!' said Lady Merrifield to Bessie,
+under cover of Gillian's performance.
+
+'One can't help being very sorry for her,' said Elizabeth, who knew what
+was hanging over Dolly.
+
+'Yes, it is a terrible punishment, especially as she has a certain
+affection for her step-uncle, or whatever he should be called, for her
+mother's sake. It really was a perplexed situation.'
+
+'But why did she not consult you?'
+
+'Do you know, I think I have found out. She held aloof from us all,
+and treated us--especially me--as if we were her natural enemies, and
+I never could guess what was the reason till the other day; she
+voluntarily gave me up all her books to be looked over and put into the
+common stock, which you saw in the schoolroom.'
+
+'You look over all the children's books?'
+
+'Yes. While we were wandering, they did not get enough to make it a very
+arduous task, and now I find that they want weeding. If children read
+nothing but a multitude of stories rather beneath their capacity, they
+are likely never to exert themselves to anything beyond novel reading.'
+
+'That is quite true, I believe.'
+
+'Well, among this literature of Dolly's I found no less than four
+stories based on the cruelty and injustice suffered by orphans from
+their aunts. The wicked step-mothers are gone out, and the barbarous
+aunts are come in. It is the stock subject. I really think it is cruel,
+considering that there are many children who have to be adopted into
+uncles' families, to add to their distress and terror, by raising this
+prejudice. Just look at this one'--taking up Dolly's favourite, 'Clare;
+or No Home'--'it is not at all badly written, which makes it all the
+worse.'
+
+'Oh, Aunt Lilias,' cried Bessie, whose colour had been rising all this
+time. 'How shall I tell you? I wrote it!'
+
+'You! I never guessed you did anything in that line.'
+
+'We don't talk about it. My father knows, and so does grandmamma, in a
+way; but I never bring it before her if I can help it, for she does not
+half like the notion. But, indeed, they aren't all as bad as that! I
+know now there is a great deal of silly imitation in it; but I
+never thought of doing harm in this way. It is a punishment for
+thoughtlessness,' cried poor Bessie, reddening desperately, and with
+tears in her eyes.
+
+'My dear, I am so sorry I said it! If I bad not one of these aunts, I
+should think it a very effective story.'
+
+'I'm afraid that's so much the worse! Let me tell you about it, Aunt
+Lilias. At home, they always laughed at me for my turn for dismalities.'
+
+'I believe one always has such a turn when one is young.'
+
+'Well, when I went to live with grandmamma, it was very different from
+the houseful at home, I had so much time on my hands, and I took to
+dreaming and writing because I could not help it, and all my stories
+were fearfully doleful. I did not think of publishing them for ever so
+long, but at last when David terribly wanted some money for his mission
+church, I thought I would try, and this Clare was about the best. They
+took it, and gave me five pounds for it, and I was so pleased and never
+thought of its doing harm, and now I don't know how much more mischief
+it may have done!'
+
+'You only thought of piling up the agony! But don't be unhappy about it.
+You don't know how many aunts it may have warned.'
+
+'I'm afraid aunts are not so impressionable as nieces. And, indeed,
+among ourselves story-books seemed quite outside from life, we never
+thought of getting any ideas from them any more than from Bluebeard.'
+
+'So it has been with some of mine, while, on the other hand, Dolores
+seemed to Mysie an interesting story-book heroine--which indeed she is,
+rather too much so. But you have not stood still with Clare.'
+
+'No, I hope I have grown rather more sensible. David set me to do
+stories for his lads, and, as he is dreadfully critical, it was very
+improving.'
+
+'Did you write 'Kate's Jewel'? That is delightful. Aunt Jane gave it
+to Val this Christmas, and all of us have enjoyed it! We shall be quite
+proud of it--that is--may I tell the children?'
+
+'Oh, aunt, you are very good to try to make me forget that miserable
+Clare. I wonder whether it will do any good to tell Dolores all about
+it. Only I can't get at all the other girls I may have hurt.'
+
+'Nay, Bessie, I think it most likely that Dolores would have been an
+uncomfortable damsel, even if Clare had remained in your brain. There
+were other causes, at any rate, here are three more persecuted nieces
+in her library. Besides, as you observed, everybody does not go to
+story-books for views of human nature, and happily, also, homeless
+children are commoner in books than out of them, so I don't think the
+damage can be very extensive.'
+
+'One such case is quite enough! Indeed, it is a great lesson to think
+whether what one writes can give any wrong notion.'
+
+'I believe one always does begin with imitation.'
+
+'Yes, it is extraordinary how little originality there is in the
+world. In the literature of my time, everybody had small hands and high
+foreheads, the girls wanted to do great things, and did, or did not do,
+little ones, and the boys all took first classes, and the fashion was
+to have violet eyes, so dark you could not tell their colour, and golden
+hair.'
+
+'Whereas now the hair is apt to be bronze, whatever that may be like.'
+
+'And all the dresses, and all the complexions, and all the lace, and all
+the roses, are creamy. Bessie, I hope you don't deal in creaminess!'
+
+'I'm afraid skim milk is more like me, and that you would say I had
+taken to the goody line. I never thought of the responsibility then,
+only when I wrote for David's classes.'
+
+'It is a responsibility, I suppose, in the way in which every word
+one speaks and every letter one writes is so. And now--here is Gillian
+finishing her piece. How far is it a secret, my dear.'
+
+'It need not be so here, Aunt Lilias. Only my people are rather
+old-fashioned, you know, and are inclined to think it rather shocking of
+me, so it ought not to go beyond the family, and especially don't 'let
+her,' indicating her grandmother, 'hear about it. She knows I do such
+things--it would not be honest not to tell her--but it goes against the
+grain, and she has never heard one word of it all.'
+
+It appeared that Bessie daily read the psalms and lessons to grandmamma,
+followed up by a sermon. Then, with her wonderful eyes, Mrs. Merrifield
+read the newspaper from end to end, which lasted her till luncheon,
+then came a drive in the brougham, followed by a rest in her own room,
+dinner, and then Bessie read her to sleep with a book of travels or
+biography, of the old book-club class of her youth. Her principles were
+against novels, and the tale she viewed as only fit for children.
+
+Lady Merrifield could not help thinking what a dull life it must be for
+Bessie, a woman full of natural gifts and of great powers of enjoyment,
+accustomed to a country home and a large family, and she said something
+of the kind. 'I did not like it at first,' said Bessie, 'but I have
+plenty of occupations now, besides all these companions that I've made
+for myself, or that came to me, for I think they come of themselves.'
+
+'But what time have you to yourself?'
+
+'Grandmamma does not want me till half-past ten in the morning, except
+for a little visit. And she does not mind my writing letters while she
+is reading the paper, provided I am ready to answer anything remarkable.
+I am quite the family newsmonger! Then there's always from four to
+half-past six when I can go out if I like. There's a dear old governess
+of ours living not far off, and we have nice little expeditions
+together. And you know it is nice to be at the family headquarters in
+London, and have every one dropping in.'
+
+'Oh dear! how good you are to like going on like that,' said Gillian,
+who had come up while this was passing; 'I should eat my heart out; you
+must be made up of contentment.'
+
+Elizabeth held up her hand in warning lest her grandmother should be
+wakened, but she laughed and said, 'My brothers would tell you I used to
+be Pipy Bet. But that dear old governess. Miss Fosbrook, was the
+making of me, and taught me how to be jolly like Mark Tapley among the
+rattlesnakes,' she finished, looking drolly up to Gillian.
+
+'And, Gill, you don't know what Bessie has made her companions instead
+of the rattlesnakes,' said Lady Merrifield. 'What do you think of
+"Kate's Jewel?"'
+
+Gillian's astonishment and rapture actually woke grandmamma; not
+that she made much noise, but there was a disturbing force about her
+excitement; and the subject had to be abandoned.
+
+As the great secret might be shared with Dolores, though not with the
+younger ones, whose discretion could not be depended upon, Gillian could
+enter upon it the more freely, though she was rather disappointed that
+an author was not such an extraordinary sight to Dolly as to herself.
+But it was charming to both that Bessie let them look at the proofs of
+the story she was publishing in a magazine; and allowed them as well as
+mamma, to read the manuscript of the tale, romance, or novel, whichever
+it was to be called, on which she wished for her aunt's opinion.
+
+Bessie took care, when complying with the girls' entreaty, that she
+would tell them all she had written; to observe that, she thought
+'Clare' a very foolish book indeed, and that she wished heartily she had
+never written it. Gillian asked why she had done it?
+
+'Oh,' said Dolores, 'things aren't interesting unless something horrid
+happens, or some one is frightened, or very miserable.'
+
+'I like things best just and exactly as they really are--or were,' said
+Gillian.
+
+'The question between sensation and character,' said Bessie to her aunt.
+'I suppose that, on the whole, it is the few who are palpably affected
+by the mass of fiction in the world; but that it is needful to take
+good care that those few gather at least no harm from one's work--to be
+faithful in it, in fact, like other things.'
+
+And there was no doubt that Bessie had been faithful in her work ever
+since she had realized her vocation. Her lending library books, written
+with a purpose, were excellent, and were already so much valued by
+Miss Hacket, that Gillian thought how once she should have felt it a
+privation not to be allowed to tell her whence they came; but to her
+surprise on the Sunday, instead of the constraint with which of late she
+had been treated at tea-time, the eager inquiry was made whether this
+was really the authoress, Miss Merrifield?
+
+Secrets are not kept as well as people think. The Hackets' married
+sister was a neighbour of Bessie's married sister, and through these
+ladies it had just come round, not only who was the author of 'Charlie's
+Whistle,' etc., but that she wrote in the ---- Magazine, and was in the
+neighbourhood.
+
+All offences seemed to be forgotten in the burning desire for an
+introduction to this marvel of success. Constance had made the most of
+her opportunities in gazing at church; but if she called, would she be
+introduced?
+
+'Of course,' said Gillian, 'if my cousin is in the room.' She spoke
+rather coldly and gravely, and Miss Hacket exclaimed--
+
+'I know we have been a little remiss, my dear, I hope Lady Merrifield
+was not offended.'
+
+'Mamma is never offended,' said Gillian--'but, I do think, and so would
+she and all of us, that if Constance comes, she ought to treat Dolores
+Mohun--as--as usual.'
+
+The two sisters were silent, perhaps from sheer amazement at this
+outbreak of Gillian's, who had never seemed particularly fond of her
+cousin. Gillian was quite as much surprised at herself, but something
+seemed to drive her on, with flaming cheeks. 'Dolores is half
+broken-hearted about it all. She did not thoroughly know how wrong it
+was; and it does make her miserable that the one who went along with her
+in it should turn against her, and cut her and all.'
+
+'Connie never meant to keep it up, I'm sure,' said Miss Hacket; 'but she
+was very much hurt.'
+
+'So was Dolly,' said Gillian.
+
+'Is she so fond of me?' said Constance, in a softened tone.
+
+'She was,' replied Gillian.
+
+'I'm sure,' said Miss Hacket, 'our only wish is to forget and forgive as
+Christians. Lady Merrifield has behaved most handsomely, and it is
+our most earnest wish that this unfortunate transaction should be
+forgotten.'
+
+'And I'm sure I'm willing to overlook it all,' said Constance. 'One must
+have scrapes, you know; but friendship will triumph over all.'
+
+Gillian did not exactly wish to unravel this fine sentiment, and was
+glad that the little G.F.S. maid came in with the tea.
+
+Lady Merrifield was a good deal diverted with Gillian's report,
+and invited the two sisters to luncheon on the plea of their slight
+acquaintance with Anne--otherwise Mrs. Daventry--with a hint in the note
+not to compliment Mrs. Merrifield on Elizabeth's production.
+
+Then Dolores had to be prepared to receive any advance from Constance.
+She looked disgusted at first, and then, when she heard that Gillian had
+spoken her mind, said, 'I can't think why you should care.'
+
+'Of course I care, to have Constance behaving so ill to one of us.'
+
+'Do you think me one of you, Gillian?'
+
+'Who, what else are you?'
+
+And Dolores held up her face for a kiss, a heartier one than had ever
+passed between the cousins. There was no kiss between the quondam
+friends, but they shook hands with perfect civility, and no stranger
+would have guessed their former or their present terms from their
+manner. In fact, Constance was perfectly absorbed in the contemplation
+of the successful authoress, the object of her envy and veneration, and
+only wanted to forget all the unpleasantness connected with the dark
+head on the opposite side of the table.
+
+'Oh Miss Merrifield,' she asked, in an interval afterwards, when hats
+were being put on, 'bow do you make them take your things?'
+
+'I don't know,' said Bessie, smiling. 'I take all the pains I can, and
+try to make them useful.'
+
+'Useful, but that's so dull--and the critics always laugh at things with
+a purpose.'
+
+'But I don't think that is a reason for not trying to do good, even in
+this very small and uncertain way. Indeed,' she added, earnestly. 'I
+have no right to speak, for I have made great mistakes; but I wanted to
+tell you that the one thing I did get published, which was not written
+conscientiously--as I may say--but only to work out a silly, sentimental
+fancy, has brought me pain and punishment by the harm I know I did.'
+
+This was a very new idea to Constance, and she actually carried it away
+with her. The visit had restored the usual terms of intercourse with the
+Hackets, though there was no resumption of intimacy such as there had
+been, between Constance and Dolores. It had, however, done much to make
+the latter feel that the others considered themselves one with them, and
+there was something that drew them together in the universal missing of
+Mysie, and eagerness for her letters.
+
+These were, however, rather disappointing. Mysie had not a genius for
+correspondence, and dealt in very bare facts. There was an enclosure
+which made Lady Merrifield somewhat anxious:
+
+
+'My Dear Mamma, 'This is for you all by yourself. I have been in sad
+mischief, for I broke the conservatory and a palm-tree with my umbrella;
+and I did still worse, for I broke my promise and told all about what
+you told me never to. I will tell you all when I come home, and I hope
+you will forgive me. I wish I was at home. It is very horrid when they
+say one is good and one knows one is not; but I am very happy, and Lord
+Rotherwood is nicer than ever, and so is Fly. 'I am your affectionate
+and penitent and dutiful little daughter,
+
+'MARIA MILLICENT MERRIFIELD.'
+
+
+With all mamma's intuitive knowledge of her little daughter's mind
+and forms of expression, she was puzzled by this note and the various
+fractures it described. She obeyed its injunctions of secrecy, even with
+regard to Gillian and Bessie, though she could not help wishing that the
+latter could have seen and judged of her Mysie.
+
+Grandmamma was somewhat disappointed to have missed her eldest grandson,
+but she was obliged to leave Silverton two days before his return with
+his little sister. She had certainly escaped the full tumult of the
+entire household, but Bessie observed that she suspected that it might
+have been preferred to the general quiescence.
+
+In spite of all the regrets that Bessie's more coeval cousins, Alethea
+and Phyllis were not at home, she and her aunt each felt that a new
+friendship had been made, and that they understood each other, and
+Bessie had uttered her resolution henceforth always to think of the
+impression for good or evil produced on the readers, as well as of the
+effectiveness of her story. 'Little did I suppose that 'Clare' would
+add to any one's difficulties,' she said, 'still less to yours, Aunt
+Lilias.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. -- CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE.
+
+
+
+Here were the travellers at home again, and Mysie clinging to her
+mother, with, 'Oh, Mamma!' and a look of perfect rest. They arrived at
+the same time as Dolores had come, so late that Mysie was tired out,
+and only half awake. She was consigned to Mrs. Halfpenny after her first
+kiss, but as she passed along the corridor, a door was thrown back, and
+a white figure sprang upon her. 'Oh, Mysie! Mysie!' and in spite of the
+nurse's chidings, held her fast in an embrace of delight. Dolores had
+been lying awake watching for her, and implored permission at least to
+look on while she was going to bed!
+
+Harry meanwhile related his experiences to his mother and Gillian over
+the supper-table. The Butterfly's Ball had been a great success. He had
+never seen anything prettier in his life. Plants and lights had been
+judiciously disposed so as to make the hall a continuation of the
+conservatory, almost a fairy land, and the children in their costumes
+had been more like fairies than flesh and blood, pinafore and
+bread-and-butter beings. There was a most perfect tableau at the opening
+of the scenery constructed with moss and plants, so as to form a bower,
+where the Butterfly and Grasshopper, with their immediate attendants,
+welcomed their company, and afterwards formed the first quadrille, Lady
+Phyllis, with Mysie and two other little girls staying in the house,
+being the butterflies, and Lord Ivinghoe and three more boys of the same
+ages, the grasshoppers, in pages' dresses of suitable colours.
+
+'I never thought,' said Harry, 'that our little brown mouse would come
+out so pretty or so swell.'
+
+'She wanted to be the dormouse,' said Gillian.
+
+'That was impracticable. They were all heath butterflies of different
+sorts, wings very correctly coloured and dresses to correspond. Phyllis
+the ringlet with the blue lining, Mysie, the blue one, little Lady
+Alberta, the orange-tip, and the other child the burnet moth.'
+
+'How did Mysie dance?'
+
+'Very fairly, if she had not looked so awfully serious. The
+dancing-mistress, French, of course, had trained them, it was more
+ballet than quadrille, and they looked uncommonly pretty. Uncle William
+granted that, though he grumbled at the whole concern as nonsense, and
+wondered you should send your nice little girl into it to have her head
+turned.'
+
+'Do you think she was happy?'
+
+'Oh, yes, of course. She always is, but she was in prodigious spirits
+when we started to come home. Lady Rotherwood said I was to tell you
+that no child could be more truthful and conscientious. Still somehow
+she did not look like the swells. Except that once, when she was got
+up regardless of expense for the ball, she always had the country mouse
+look about her. She hadn't--'
+
+'The 'Jenny Say Caw,' as Macrae calls it?' said his mother. 'Well, I can
+endure that! You need not look so disgusted, Gill. You didn't hear of
+her getting into any scrape, did you?'
+
+'No,' said Hal. 'Stay, I believe she did break some glass or other,
+and blurted out her confession in full assembly, but I was over at
+Beechcroft, and I am happy to say I didn't see her.'
+
+Mysie's tap came early to her mother's door the next morning, and it was
+in the midst of her toilette that Lady Merrifield was called on to hear
+the confession that had been weighing on the little girl's mind.
+
+'I was too sleepy to tell you last night, mamma, but I did want to do
+so.'
+
+'Well, then, my dear, begin at the beginning, for I could not understand
+your letter.'
+
+'The beginning was, mamma, that we had just come in from our walk, and
+we went out into the schoolroom balcony, because we could see round the
+corner who was coming up the drive. And we began playing at camps, with
+umbrellas up as tents. Ivinghoe, and Alberta, and I. Ivy was general,
+and I was the sentry, with my umbrella shut up, and over my shoulder. I
+was the only one who knew how to present arms. I heard something coming,
+and called out, 'Who goes there?' and Alberta jumped up in such a hurry
+that the points other tent--her umbrella, I mean--scratched my face,
+and before I could recover arms, over went my umbrella, perpendicular,
+straight smash through the glass of the conservatory, and we heard it.'
+
+'And what did you do? Of course you told!'
+
+"Oh yes! I jumped up and said, 'I'll go and tell Lady Rotherwood.' I
+knew I must before I got into a fright, and Ivinghoe said I couldn't
+then, and he would speak to his mother and make it easy for me, and Ply
+says he really meant it; but I thought then that's the way the bad ones
+always get the others into concealments and lies. So I wouldn't listen a
+moment, and I ran down, with him after me, saying, 'Hear reason, Mysie.'
+And I ran full butt up against some-body--Lord Ormersfield it was,
+I found--but I didn't know then. I only said something about begging
+pardon, and dashed on, and opened the door. I saw a whole lot of
+fine people all at five-o'clock tea, but I couldn't stop to get more
+frightened, and I went up straight to Lady Rotherwood and said, 'Please,
+I did it.' Mamma do you think I ought not?"
+
+'There are such things as fit places and times, my dear. What did she
+say?'
+
+"At first she just said, 'My dear, I cannot attend to you now, run
+away;' but then in the midst, a thought seemed to strike her, and she
+said, rather frightened, 'Is any one hurt?' and I said, Oh no; only
+my umbrella has gone right through the roof of the conservatory, and
+I thought I ought to come and tell her directly. 'That was the noise,'
+said some of the people, and everybody got up and went to look. And
+there were Fly and Ivy, who had got in some other way, and the umbrella
+was sticking right upright in the top of one of those palm-trees with
+leaves like screens, and somebody said it was a new development of
+fruit. Lady Rotherwood asked them what they were doing there, and Ivy
+said they had come to see what harm was done. Dear Fly ran up to her and
+said, 'We were all at play together, mother; it was not one more than
+another;' but Lady Rotherwood only said, 'That's enough, Phyllis, I will
+come to you by-and-by in the schoolroom,' and she would have sent us
+away if Cousin Rotherwood himself had not come in just then, and asked
+what was the matter. I heard some of the answers; they were very odd,
+mamma. One was, 'A storm of umbrellas and of untimely confessions;' and
+another was, 'Truth in undress.'"
+
+'Oh, my dear? I hope you were fit to be seen?'
+
+'I forgot about that, mamma, I had taken off my ulster, and had my
+little scarlet flannel underbody, so as to make a better soldier.'
+
+'Oh!' groaned Lady Merrifield.
+
+'And then that dear, good Fly gave a jump and flew at him, and said,
+'Oh, daddy, daddy, it's Mysie, and she has been telling the truth
+like--like Frank, or Sir Thomas More, or George Washington, or anybody.'
+She really did say so, mamma.'
+
+'I can quite believe it of her, Mysie! And how did Cousin Rotherwood
+respond?'
+
+'He sat down upon one of the seats, and took Fly on one knee and me on
+the other, though we were big for it--just like papa, you know--and made
+us tell him all about it. Lady Rotherwood got the others out of the
+way somehow--I don't know how, for my back was that way, and I think
+Ivinghoe went after them, but there was some use in talking to Cousin
+Rotherwood; he has got some sense, and knows what one means, as if
+he was at the dear, nice playing age, and Ivinghoe was his stupid old
+father in a book.'
+
+'Exactly,' said Lady Merrifield, delighted, and longing to laugh.
+
+'But that was the worst of it,' said Mysie, sadly; 'he was so nice that
+I said all sorts of things I didn't mean or ought to have said. I told
+him I would pay for the glass if he would only wait till we had helped
+Dolores pay for those books that the cheque was for, because the man
+came alive again, after her wicked uncle said he was dead, and so
+somehow it all came out; how you made up to Miss Constance and couldn't
+come to the Butterfly's Ball for want of new dresses.'
+
+'Oh, Mysie, you should not have said that! I thought you were to be
+trusted!'
+
+'Yes, mamma, I know,' said Mysie, meekly. 'I recollected as soon as I
+had said it; and told him, and he kissed me and promised he would never
+tell anyone, and made Fly promise that she never would. But I have
+been so miserable about it ever since, mamma; I tried to write it in a
+letter, but I am afraid you didn't half understand.'
+
+'I only saw that something was on your mind, my dear. Now that is all
+over, I do not so much mind Cousin Rotherwood's knowing, he has always
+been so like a brother; but I do hope both he and Fly will keep their
+word. I am more sorry for my little girl's telling than about his
+knowing.'
+
+'And Ivinghoe said my running in that way on all the company was worse
+than breaking the glass or the palm-tree. Was it, mamma?'
+
+'Well, you know, Mysie, there is a time for all things, and very likely
+it vexed Lady Rotherwood more to be invaded by such a little wild colt.'
+
+'But not Cousin Rotherwood himself, mamma,' said Mysie, 'for he said I
+was quite right, and an honourable little fellow, just like old times.
+And so I told Ivy. And he said in such a way, 'Every one knew what his
+father was.' So I told him his father was ten thousand times nicer than
+ever he would be if he lived a hundred years, and I could not bear him
+if he talked in that wicked, disrespectful way, and Fly kissed me for
+it, mamma, and said her daddy was worth a hundred of such a prig as he
+was.'
+
+'My dear, I am afraid neither you nor Fly showed your good manners.'
+
+'It was only Ivinghoe, mamma, and I'm sure I don't care what he thinks,
+if he could talk of his father in that way. Isn't it what you call
+metallical--no--ironical?'
+
+'Indeed, Mysie, I don't wonder it made you very angry, and I can't be
+sorry you showed your indignation.'
+
+'But please, mamma, what ought I to have done about the glass?'
+
+'I don't quite know; I think a very wise little girl might have gone to
+Cousin Florence's room and consulted her. It would have been better than
+making an explosion before so many people. Florence was kind to you, I
+hope.'
+
+'Oh yes, mamma, it was almost like being at home in her room; and she
+has such a dear little house at the end of the park.'
+
+A good deal more oozed out from Mysie to different auditors at different
+times. By her account everything was delightful, and yet mamma concluded
+that all had not absolutely fulfilled the paradisiacal expectation with
+which her country mouse had viewed Rotherwood from afar. Lady Rotherwood
+was very kind, and so was the governess, and Cousin Florence especially.
+Cousin Florence's house felt just like a bit of home. It really was the
+dearest little house--and fluffy cat and kittens, and the sweetest
+love birds. It was perfectly delicious when they drank tea there, but
+unluckily she was not allowed to go thither without the governess or
+Louise, as it was all across the park, and a bit of village.
+
+And Fly? Oh, Fly was always dear and good and funny; but there was
+Alberta to be attended to, and other little girls sometimes, and it was
+not like having her here at home; nor was there any making a row in
+the galleries, nor playing at anything really jolly, though the great
+pillars in the hall seemed made for tying cords to make a spider's web.
+It was always company, except when Cousin Rotherwood called them into
+his den for a little fun. But he had gentlemen to entertain most of the
+time, and the only day that he could have taken them to see the farm and
+the pheasants, Lady Rotherwood said that Phyllis was a little hoarse and
+must not get a cold before the ball.
+
+And as to the Butterfly's Ball itself? Imagination had depicted a
+splendid realization of the verses, and it was flat to find it merely a
+children's fancy ball, no acting at all, only dancing, and most of the
+children not attempting any characteristic dress, only with some insect
+attached to head or shoulder; nothing approaching to the fun of the
+rehearsal at Silverton, as indeed Fly had predicted. The only attempt
+at representation had cost Mysie more trouble than pleasure, for the
+training to dance together had been a difficult and wearisome business.
+Two of the grass-hoppers had been greatly displeased about it, and
+called it a beastly shame, words much shocking gentle Mysie from
+aristocratic lips. One of them had been as sulky, angry, and
+impracticable as possible, just like a log, and the other had consoled
+himself with all manner of tricks, especially upon the teacher and on
+Ivinghoe. He would skip like a real grasshopper, he made faces that set
+all laughing, he tripped Ivinghoe up, he uttered saucy speeches that
+Mysie considered too shocking to repeat, but which convulsed every one
+with laughter, Fly most especially, and her governess had punished her
+for it. 'She would not punish me,' said Mysie, 'though I know I was just
+as bad, and I think that was a shame!' At last the practising had to be
+carried on without the boys, and yet, when it came to the point, both
+the recusants behaved as well and danced as suitably as if they had
+submitted to the training like their sisters! And oh! the dressing, that
+was worse.
+
+'I did not think I was so stupid,' said Mysie, 'but I heard Louise tell
+mademoiselle that I was trop bourgeoise, and mademoiselle answered that
+I was plutot petite paysanne, and would never have l'air de distinction.
+
+'Abominable impertinence!' cried Gillian.
+
+"They thought I did not understand,' said Mysie, 'and I knew it was
+fair to tell them, so I said, 'Mais non, car je suis la petite souris de
+compagne.'"
+
+'Well done, Mysie!' cried her sister.
+
+'They did jump, and Louise began apologizing in a perfect gabble, and
+mademoiselle said I had de l'esprit, but I am sure I did not mean it.'
+
+'But how could they?' exclaimed Gillian. 'I'm sure Mysie looks like a
+lady, a gentleman's child--I mean as much as Fly or any one else.'
+
+'I trust you all look like gentlewomen, and are such in refinement and
+manners, but there is an air, which comes partly of birth, partly of
+breeding, and that none of you, except, perhaps, Alethea, can boast of,
+and about which papa and I don't care one rush.'
+
+'Has Fly got it, mamma?' said Valetta. 'She seemed like one of
+ourselves.'
+
+'Oh, yes,' put in Dolores. 'It was what made me think her stuck up. I
+should have known her for a swell anywhere.'
+
+'I'm sure Fly has no airs!' exclaimed Val, hotly, and Gillian was ready
+to second her; but Lady Merrifield explained. 'The absence of airs is
+one ingredient, Val, both in being ladylike, and in the distinction in
+which the maid justly perceived our Mouse to be deficient. Come, you
+foolish girls, don't look concerned. Nobody but the maid would have ever
+let Mysie perceive the difference.'
+
+Mysie coloured and answered, 'I don't know; I saw the Fitzhughs look at
+me at first as if they did not think I belonged, and Ivinghoe was always
+so awfully polite that I thought he was laughing at me.'
+
+'Ivinghoe must be horrid,' broke out Valetta.
+
+'The Fitzhughs said they would knock it out of him at Eton,' returned
+Mysie. 'They got very nice after the first day, and said Fly and I were
+twice as jolly fellows as he was.'
+
+It further appeared that Mysie had had plenty of partners at the ball,
+and on all occasions her full share of notice, the country neighbours
+welcoming her as her mother's daughter, but most of them saying she
+was far more like her Aunt Phyllis than her own mother. The dancing and
+excitement so late at night had, however, tired her overmuch, she had
+cramp all the remainder of the night, could eat no breakfast the next
+day, and was quite miserable.
+
+'I should like to have cried for you, mamma' she said, 'but they were
+all quite used to it, and not a bit tired. However, Cousin Florence came
+in, and she was so kind. She took me to the little west room, and made
+me lie on the sofa, and read to me till I went to sleep, and I was all
+right after dinner and had a ride on Fly's old pony, Dormouse. She
+has the loveliest new one, all bay, with a black mane and tail, called
+Fairy, but Alberta had that. Oh it was so nice.'
+
+Altogether Lady Merrifield was satisfied that her little girl had not
+been spoilt for home by her taste of dissipation, though she did not
+hear the further confidence to Dolores in the twilight by the schoolroom
+fire.
+
+'Do you know, Dolly, though Fly is such a darling, and they all wanted
+to be kind as well as they knew how, I came to understand how horrid you
+must have felt when you came among the whole lot of us.'
+
+'But you knew Fly already?'
+
+'That made it better, but I don't like it. To feel one does not belong,
+and to be afraid to open a door for fear it should be somebody's room,
+and not quite to know who every one is. Oh, dear! it is enough to make
+anybody cross and stupid. Oh, I am so glad to be back again.'
+
+'I'm sure I am glad you are,' and there was a little kissing match.
+'You'll always come to my room, won't you? Do you know, when Constance
+came to luncheon, I only shook hands, I wouldn't try to kiss her. Was
+that unforgiving?'
+
+'I am sure I couldn't,' said Mysie; 'did she try?'
+
+'I don't think so; I don't think I ever could kiss her; for I never
+should have said what was not true without her, and that is what makes
+Uncle Reginald so angry still. He would not kiss me even when he
+went away. Oh, Mysie! that's worse than anything,' and Dolores's face
+contracted with tears very near at hand. 'I did always so love Uncle
+Regie, and he won't forgive me, and father will be just the same.'
+
+'Poor dear, dear Dolly,' said Mysie, hugging her.
+
+'But you know fathers always forgive, and we will try and make a little
+prayer about it, like the Prodigal Son's, you know.'
+
+'I don't blow properly,' said Dolores.
+
+'I think I can say him,' said Mysie, and the little girls sat with
+enfolded arms, while Mysie reverently went through the parable.
+
+'But he had been very wicked indeed,' objected Dolores, 'what one calls
+dissipated. Isn't that making too much of such things as girls like us
+can do.'
+
+'I don't know,' said Mysie, knitting her young brows; 'you see if we are
+as bad as ever we can be while we are at home, it is really and truly
+as bad in us ourselves as in shocking people that run away, because it
+shows we might have done anything if we had not been taken care of. And
+the poor son felt as if he could not be pardoned, which is just what you
+do feel.'
+
+'Aunt Lily forgives me,' said Dolores, wistfully.
+
+'And your father will, I'm sure,' said Mysie, 'though he is yet a great
+way off. And as to Uncle Regie, I do wish something would happen that
+you could tell the truth about. If you had only broken the palm-tree
+instead of me, and I didn't do right even about that! But if any
+mischief does happen, or accident, I promise you, Dolly, you shall have
+the telling of it, if you have had ever so little to do with it, and
+then mamma will write to Uncle Regie that you have proved yourself
+truthful.'
+
+Dolores did not seem much consoled by this curious promise, and Mysie's
+childishness suddenly gave way to something deeper. 'I suppose,' she
+said, 'if one is true, people find it out and trust one.'
+
+'People can't see into one,' said Dolly.
+
+'Mamma says there is a bright side and a dark side from which to look at
+everybody and everything,' said Mysie.
+
+'I know that,' said Dolores; 'I looked at the dark side of you all when
+I came here.'
+
+'Some day,' said Mysie, 'your bright side will come round to Uncle
+Regie, as it has to us, you dear, dear old Dolly.'
+
+'But do you know, Mysie,' whispered Dolores, in her embrace, 'there's
+something more dreadful that I'm very much afraid of. Do you know
+there hasn't been a letter from father since he was staying with Aunt
+Phyllis--not to me, nor Aunt Jane, nor anybody!'
+
+'Well, he couldn't write when he was at sea, I mean there wasn't any
+post.'
+
+'It would not take so long as this to get to Fiji; and besides. Uncle
+Regie telegraphed to ask about that dreadful cheque, and there hasn't
+been any answer at all.'
+
+'Perhaps he is gone about sailing somewhere in the Pacific Ocean; I
+heard Uncle William saying so to Cousin Rotherwood.' He said, 'Maurice
+is not a fellow to resist a cruise.'
+
+'Then they are thinking about it. They are anxious.'
+
+'Not very,' said Mysie, 'for they think he is sure to be gone on a
+cruise. They said something about his going down like a carpenter into
+the deep sea.'
+
+'Making deep-sea soundings, like Dr. Carpenter! A carpenter, indeed!'
+said Dolores, laughing for a moment. 'Oh! if it is that, I don't mind.'
+
+The weight was lifted, but by-and-by, when the two girls said their
+prayers together, poor Dolores broke forth again, 'Oh, Mysie, Mysie,
+your papa has all--all of you, besides mamma, to pray that he may be
+kept safe, and my father has only me, only horrid me, to pray for him,
+and even I have never cared to do it really till just lately! Oh, poor,
+poor father! And suppose he should be drowned, and never, never have
+forgiven me!'
+
+It was a trouble and misery that recurred night after night, though
+apparently it weighed much less during the day--and nobody but Mysie
+knew how much Dolores was suffering from it. Lady Merrifield was
+increasingly anxious as time went on, and still no mail brought letters
+from Mr. Mohun, but confidence based on his erratic habits, and the
+uncertainty of communication began to fail. And as she grieved more for
+the possible loss, she became more and more tender to her niece, and
+strange to say, in spite of the terror that gnawed so achingly every
+night, and of the ordeal that the Lent Assizes would bring, Dolores was
+happier and more peaceful than ever before at Silverton, and developed
+more of her bright side.
+
+'I really think,' wrote Lady Merrifield to Miss Mohun, 'that she is
+growing more simple and child-like, poor little maid. She is apparently
+free from all our apprehensions about dear Maurice, and I would not
+inspire her with them for the world. Neither does she seem to dread
+the trial, as I do for her, nor to guess what cross-examination may be.
+Constance Hacket has been subpoenaed, and her sister expatiates on her
+nervousness. It is one comfort that Reginald must be there as a witness,
+so that it is not in the power of Irish disturbances to keep him from
+us! May we only be at ease about Maurice by that time!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. -- IN COURT AND OUT.
+
+
+
+How Dolores's heart beat when Colonel Mohun drove up to the door! She
+durst not run out to greet him among her cousins; but stood by her aunt,
+feeling hot and cold and trembling, in the doubt whether he would kiss
+her.
+
+Yes, she did feel his kiss, and Mysie looked at her in congratulation.
+But what did it mean? Was it only that it came as a matter of course,
+and he forgot to withhold it, or was it that he had given up hopes of
+her father, and was sorry for her? She could not make up her mind, for
+he came so late in the evening that she scarcely saw him before bedtime,
+and he did not take any special notice of her the next morning. He had
+done his best to save her from being long detained at Darminster, by
+ascertaining as nearly as possible when Flinders's case would come on,
+and securing a room at the nearest inn, where she might await a summons
+into court. Lady Merrifield was going with them, but would not take
+either of her daughters, thinking that every home eye would be an
+additional distress, and that it was better that no one should see or
+remember Dolores as a witness.
+
+Miss Mohun met the party at the station, going off, however, with her
+brother into court, after having established Lady Merrifield and her
+niece in an inn parlour, where they kept as quiet as they could, by the
+help of knitting, and reading aloud. Lady Merrifield found that
+Dolores had been into court before, and knew enough about it to need no
+explanation or preparation, and being much afraid of causing agitation,
+she thought it best only to try to interest her in such tales as
+'Neale's Triumphs of the Cross,' instead of letting her dwell on what
+she most dreaded, the sight of the prisoner, and the punishment her
+words might bring upon him.
+
+The morning ended, and Uncle Reginald brought word that his case would
+come on immediately after luncheon. This he shared with his sister
+and niece, saying that Jane had gone to a pastrycook's with--with
+Rotherwood--thinking this best for Dolly. He seemed to be in strangely
+excited spirits, and was quite his old self to Dolores, tempting her to
+eat, and showing himself so entirely the kind uncle that she would have
+been quite cheered up if she had not been afraid that it was all out of
+pity, and that he knew something dreadful.
+
+Lord Rotherwood met them at the hotel entrance, and took his cousin
+on his arm; Dolores following with her uncle, was sure that she gave
+a great start at something that he said; but she had to turn in a
+different direction to wait under the charge of her uncle, who treated
+her as if she were far more childish and inexperienced in the ways of
+courts than she really was, and instructed her in much that she knew
+perfectly well; but it was too comfortable to have him kind to her for
+her to take the least offence, and she only said 'Yes' and 'Thank you'
+at the proper places.
+
+The sheriff, meantime, had given Lord Rotherwood and Lady Merrifield
+seats near the judge, where Miss Mohun was already installed. Alfred
+Flinders was already at the bar, and for the first time Lady Merrifield
+saw his somewhat handsome but shifty-looking face and red beard, as
+the counsel for the prosecution was giving a detailed account of his
+embarrassed finances, and of his having obtained from the inexperienced
+kindness of a young lady, a mere child in age, who called him uncle,
+though without blood relationship, a draft of her father's for seven
+pounds, which, when presented at the bank, had become one for seventy.
+
+As before, the presenting and cashing of the seventy pounds was sworn to
+by the banker's clerk, and then Dolores Mary Mohun was called.
+
+There she stood, looking smaller than usual in her black, close-fitting
+dress and hat, in a place meant for grown people, her dark face pale and
+set, keeping her eyes as much as she could from the prisoner. When the
+counsel spoke she gave a little start, for she knew him, as one who had
+often spent an evening with her parents, in the cheerful times while
+her mother lived. There was something in the familiar glance of his eyes
+that encouraged her, though he looked so much altered by his wig and
+gown, and it seemed strange that he should question her, as a stranger,
+on her exact name and age, her father's absence, the connection with the
+prisoner, and present residence. Then came:
+
+'Did your father leave any money with you?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'What was the amount?'
+
+'Five pounds for myself; seven besides.'
+
+'In what form was the seven pounds?'
+
+'A cheque from W.'s bank.'
+
+'Did you part with it?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'To whom?'
+
+'I sent it to him.'
+
+'To whom if you please?'
+
+'To Mr. Alfred Flinders.' And her voice trembled.
+
+'Can you tell me when you sent it away?'
+
+'It was on the 22nd of December.'
+
+'Is this the cheque?'
+
+'It has been altered.'
+
+'Explain in what manner?'
+
+'There has 'ty' been put at the end of the written 'seven,' and a cipher
+after the figure 7 making it 70.'
+
+'You are sure that it was not so when it went out of your possession?'
+
+'Perfectly sure.'
+
+Mr. Calderwood seemed to have done with her, and said, 'Thank you;' but
+then there stood up a barrister, whom she suspected of being a man her
+mother had disliked, and she knew that the worst was coming when he
+said, in a specially polite voice too, 'Allow me to ask whether the
+cheque in question had been intended by Mr. Mohun for the prisoner?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Or was it given to you as pocket-money?'
+
+'No, it was to pay a bill.'
+
+'Then did you divert it from that purpose?'
+
+'I thought the man was dead.'
+
+'What man?'
+
+'Professor Muhlwasser.'
+
+'The creditor?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Mr. Calderwood objected to these questions as irrelevant; but the
+prisoner's counsel declared them to be essential, and the judge let
+him go on to extract from Dolores that the payment was intended for an
+expensive illustrated work on natural history, which was to be published
+in Germany. Her father had promised to take two copies of it if it were
+completed; but being doubtful whether this would ever be the case,
+he had preferred leaving a draft with her to letting the account be
+discharged by his brother, and he had reckoned that seven pounds would
+cover the expense.
+
+'You say you supposed the author was dead. What reason had you for
+thinking so?'
+
+'He told me; Mr. Flinders did.'
+
+'Had Mr. Mohun sanctioned your applying this sum to any other purpose
+than that specified?'
+
+'No, he had not. I did wrong,' said Dolores, firmly.
+
+He wrinkled up his forehead, so that the point of his wig went upwards,
+and proceeded to inquire whether she had herself given the cheque to the
+prisoner.
+
+'I sent it.'
+
+'Did you post it?'
+
+'Not myself. I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send it for me.'
+
+'Can you swear to the sum for which it was drawn when you parted with
+it?'
+
+'Yes. I looked at it to see whether it was pounds or guineas.'
+
+'Did you give it loose or in an envelope?'
+
+'In an envelope.'
+
+'Was any other person aware of your doing so?'
+
+'Nobody.'
+
+'What led you to make this advance to the prisoner?'
+
+'Because he told me that he was in great distress.'
+
+'He told you. By letter or in person?'
+
+'In person.'
+
+'When did he tell you so?'
+
+'On the 22nd of December.'
+
+'And where?'
+
+'At Darminster.'
+
+'Let me ask whether this interview at Darminster took place with the
+knowledge of the lady with whom you reside?'
+
+'No, it did not,' said Dolores, colouring deeply.
+
+'Was it a chance meeting?'
+
+'No--by appointment.'
+
+'How was the appointment made?'
+
+'We wrote to say we would come that day.'
+
+'We--who was the other party?'
+
+'Miss Constance Hacket.'
+
+'You were then in correspondence with the prisoner. Was it with the
+sanction of Lady Merrifield?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'A secret correspondence, then, romantically carried on--by what means?'
+
+'Constance Hacket sent the letters and received them for me.'
+
+'What was the motive for this arrangement?'
+
+'I knew my aunt would prevent my having anything to do with him.'
+
+'And you--excuse me--what interest had you in doing so?'
+
+'My mother had been like his sister, and always helped him.'
+
+All these answers were made with a grave, resolute straightforwardness,
+generally with something of Dolores's peculiar stony look, and only
+twice was there any involuntary token of feeling, when she blushed at
+confessing the concealment from her aunt, and at the last question, when
+her voice trembled as she spoke of her mother. She kept her eyes on her
+interrogators all the time, never once glancing towards the prisoner,
+though all the time she had a sensation as if his reproachful looks were
+piercing her through.
+
+She was dismissed, and Constance Hacket was brought in, looking about
+in every direction, carrying a handkerchief and scent bottle, and not
+attempting to conceal her flutter of agitation.
+
+Mr. Calderwood had nothing to ask her but about her having received the
+cheque from Miss Mohun and forwarded it to Flinders, though she could
+not answer for the date without a public computation back from Christmas
+Day, and forward from St. Thomas's. As to the amount--
+
+'Oh, yes, certainly, seven pounds.'
+
+Moreover she had posted it herself.
+
+Then came the cross-examination,
+
+'Had she seen the draft before posting it?'
+
+'Well--she really did not remember exactly.'
+
+'How did she know the amount then?'
+
+'Well, I think--yes--I think Dolores told me so.'
+
+'You think,' he said, in a sort of sneer. 'On your oath. Do you know?'
+
+'Yes, yes, yes. She assured me! I know something was said about seven.'
+
+'Then you cannot swear to the contents of the envelope you forwarded?'
+
+'I don't know. It was all such a confusion and hurry.'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'Oh! because it was a secret.'
+
+The counsel of course availed himself of this handle to elicit that the
+witness had conducted a secret correspondence between the prisoner
+and her young friend without the knowledge of the child's natural
+protectors. 'A perfect romance,' he said, 'I believe the prisoner is
+unmarried.'
+
+Perhaps this insinuation would have been checked, but before any one had
+time to interfere, Constance, blushing crimson, exclaimed, 'Oh! Oh! I
+assure you it was not that. It was because she said he was her uncle and
+that they ill-used him.'
+
+This brought upon her the searching question whether the last witness
+had stated the prisoner to be really her uncle, and Constance replied,
+rather hotly, that she had always understood that he was.
+
+'In fact, she gave you to understand that the prisoner was actually
+related to her by blood. Did you say that she also told you that he was
+persecuted or ill-used by her other relations?'
+
+'I thought so. Yes, I am sure she said so.'
+
+'And it was wholly and solely on these grounds that you assisted in this
+clandestine correspondence?'
+
+'Why--yes--partly,' faltered Constance, thinking of her literary
+efforts, 'so it began.'
+
+There was a manifest inclination to laugh in the audience, who naturally
+thought her hesitation implied something very different; and the judge,
+thinking that there was no need to push her further, when Mr. Calderwood
+represented that all this did not bear on the matter, and was no
+evidence, silenced Mr. Yokes, and the witness was dismissed.
+
+The next point was that Colonel Reginald Mohun was called upon to attest
+that the handwriting was his brother's. He answered for the main body
+of the draft, and the signature, but the additions, in which the forgery
+lay, were so slight that it was impossible to swear that they did not
+come from the hand of Maurice Mohun.
+
+'Had application been made to Mr. Mohun on the subject?'
+
+'Yes, Colonel Mohun had immediately telegraphed to him at the address in
+the Fiji Islands.'
+
+'Has any answer been received?'
+
+'No!' but Colonel Mohun had a curious expression in his eyes, and Mr.
+Calderwood electrified the court by begging to call upon Mr. Maurice
+Mohun.
+
+There he was in the witness-box, looking sunburnt but vigorous. He
+replied immediately to the question that the cheque was his own, and
+that it had been left under his daughter's charge, also that it had been
+for seven pounds, and the 'ty' and the cypher had never been written by
+him. The prisoner winced for a moment, and then looked at him defiantly.
+
+The connection with Alfred Flinders was inquired into and explained, and
+being asked as to the term 'Uncle,' he replied, 'My daughter was allowed
+to get into the habit of so terming him.'
+
+The sisters saw his look of pain, and Jane remembered his strong
+objection to the title, and his wife's indignant defence of it.
+
+Dolores stood trembling outside in the waiting-room, by her Uncle
+Reginald, from whom she heard that her father had come that morning from
+London with Lord Rotherwood, but that it had been thought better not to
+agitate her by letting her know of it before she gave her evidence.
+
+'Has he had my letter?' she asked.
+
+'No; he knew nothing till he saw Rotherwood last night.'
+
+All the misery of writing the confession came back upon poor Dolores,
+and she turned quite white and sick, but her uncle said kindly, 'Never
+mind, my dear, he was very much pleased with your manner of giving
+evidence. Such a contrast to your friend's. Faugh!'
+
+In a few more seconds Mr. Mohun had come out. He took the cold,
+trembling hands in his own, pressed them close, met the anxious eyes
+with his own, full of moisture, and said, 'My poor little girl,' in a
+tone that somehow lightened Dolly's heart of its worst dread.
+
+'Will you go back into court?' asked the colonel.
+
+'You don't wish it, Dolly?' said her father.
+
+'Oh no! please not.'
+
+'Then,' said the colonel, 'take your father back to the room at the
+hotel, and we will come to you. I suppose this will not last much
+longer.'
+
+'Probably not half an hour. I don't want to see that fellow either
+convicted or acquitted.'
+
+Then Dolores found herself steered out of the passages and from among
+the people waiting or gazing, into the clearer space in the street, her
+father holding her hand as if she had been a little child. Neither of
+them spoke till they had reached the sitting-room, and there, the first
+thing he did when the door was shut, was to sit down, take her between
+his knees, put an arm round her, and kiss her, saying again, 'My poor
+child!'
+
+'You never got my letter!' she said, leaning against him, feeling the
+peace and rest his embrace gave.
+
+'No; but I have heard all. I should have warned you, Dolly; but I never
+imagined that he could get at you there; and I was unwilling to accuse
+one for whom your mother had a certain affection.'
+
+'That was why I helped him,' whispered Dolores.
+
+'I knew it,' he said kindly. 'But how did he find you out, and how had
+he the impertinence to write to you at your Aunt Lily's--'
+
+'I wrote to him first,' she said, hanging down her head.
+
+'How was that? You surely had not been in the habit of doing so whilst I
+was at home.'
+
+'No; but he came and spoke to me at Exeter, the day you went away. Uncle
+William was not there, he had gone into the town. And he--Mr. Flinders,
+said he was going down to see you, and was very much disappointed to
+hear that you were gone.'
+
+'Did he ask you to write to him?'
+
+'I don't think he did. Father, it seems too silly now, but I was very
+angry because Aunt Lilias said she must see all my letters except yours
+and Maude Sefton's, and I told Constance Hacket. She said she would send
+anything for me, and I could not think of any one I wanted to write to,
+so I wrote to--to him.'
+
+'Ah! I saw you did not get on with your aunt,' was the answer, 'that was
+partly what brought me home.' And either not hearing or not heeding
+her exclamation, 'Oh, but now I do,' he went on to explain that on his
+arrival at Fiji he had found that circumstances had altered there, and
+that the person with whom he was to have been associated had died, so
+that the whole scheme had been broken up. A still better appointment
+had, however, been offered to him in New Zealand, on the resignation
+of the present holder after a half-year's notice, and he had at once
+written to accept it. A proposal had been made to him to spend the
+intermediate time in a scientific cruise among the Polynesian Islands;
+but the letters he had found awaiting him at Vanua Levu had convinced
+him that the arrangements he had made in England had been a mistake, and
+he had therefore hurried home via San Francisco, as fast as any letter
+could have gone, to wind up his English affairs, and fetch his daughter
+to the permanent home in Auckland, which her Aunt Phyllis would prepare
+for her.
+
+Her countenance betrayed a sudden dismay, which made him recollect that
+she was a strangely undemonstrative girl; but before she had recovered
+the shock so as to utter more than a long 'Oh!' they were interrupted by
+the cup of tea that had been ordered for Dolores, and in a minute more,
+steps were heard, and the two aunts were in the room. 'Seven years,'
+were Jane's first words, and 'My dear Maurice,' Lady Merrifield's, 'Oh!
+I wish I could have spared you this,' and then among greetings came
+again, 'Seven years,' from the brother and cousin who had seen the
+traveller before.
+
+'I'm glad you were not there, Maurice,' said Lady Merrifield. 'It was
+dreadful.'
+
+'I never saw a more insolent fellow!' said Lord Rotherwood.
+
+'That Yokes, you mean,' said Miss Mohun. 'I declare I think he is worse
+than Flinders!'
+
+'That's like you women, Jenny,' returned the colonel; 'you can't
+understand that a man's business is to get off his client!'
+
+'When he gave him up as an honest man altogether!' cried Lady
+Merrifield.
+
+'And cast such imputations!' exclaimed Aunt Jane. 'I saw what the wretch
+was driving at all the time of the cross-examination; and if I'd been
+the judge, would not I have stopped him?'
+
+'There you go. Lily and Jenny!' said the colonel, 'and Rotherwood just
+as bad! Why, Maurice would have had to take just the same line if he had
+been for the defence.'
+
+'He would not have done it in such a blackguard fashion though,' said
+Lord Rotherwood.
+
+'I saw what his defence would be,' said Mr. Mohun, briefly.
+
+'There!' said Colonel Mohun, with a boyish pleasure in confuting his
+sisters; but they were not subdued.
+
+'Now Maurice,' cried Jane, 'when that man was known to be utterly
+dishonourable and good for nothing, was it fair--was it not contrary to
+all common sense--to try to cast the imputation between those two poor
+girls? So the judge and jury felt it, I am happy to say! but I call it
+abominable to have thrown out the mere suggestion--'
+
+'Nay now, Jane,' said the colonel, 'if the man was to be defended at
+all, how else was it to be done?'
+
+'I wouldn't have had him defended at all! but, unfortunately, that's his
+right as an Englishman.'
+
+'That's another thing! But as the cheque did not alter itself, one of
+the three must have done it, and nothing was left but to show that there
+had been an amount of shuffling, and--in short, nonsense--that might
+cast enough doubt on their evidence to make it insufficient for a
+conviction.'
+
+'Reginald! I can't think how you can stand up for such a wretch, a
+vulgar wretch,' cried Miss Mohun. 'You put it delicately, as a gentleman
+who had the misfortune to be counsel in such a case might do, but he was
+infinitely worse than that, though that was bad enough.'
+
+'It was Yokes,' put in Mr. Mohun; 'but what did he say?' looking
+anxiously at his daughter.
+
+'It was not so bad about her,' said her uncle, 'he only made her out a
+foolish child, easily played upon by everybody, and possibly ignorant
+and frightened, or led away by her regard for her supposed relation. It
+was the other poor girl--
+
+'The amiable susceptibilities of romantic young ladies!' broke out Lady
+Merrifield. 'Oh, the creature!' To think of that poor foolish Constance
+sitting by to hear it represented that the expedition to Darminster, and
+all the rest of it, was because she was actually touched by that fellow.
+I really felt ready to take her part.'
+
+'She had certainly brought it on herself,' said Aunt Jane; 'but it was
+atrocious of him and if the other counsel had only known it, he stopped
+the cross examination just at the wrong time, or it would have come out
+that it was literary vanity that was the lure. No doubt he would have
+made a laughing-stock of that, but it would not have been as bad as the
+other.'
+
+'Poor thing,' said Lady Merrifield; 'it was a trying retribution for
+schoolgirl folly and want of conscientiousness. I should think she was a
+sadder and a wiser woman.'
+
+'He must have overdone it,' said Mr. Mohun, 'he is a vulgar fellow, and
+always does so; but, as Reginald says, the only available defence was
+to enhance the folly and sentiment of the girls; but of course the judge
+charged the other way--
+
+'Entirely,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'he brought Dolly rather well out of
+it, saying that as he understood it, a young girl who had seen a needy
+connection assisted from her home might think herself justified in
+corresponding with him, and even in diverting to his use money left in
+her charge, when it was probable that it would not be required for the
+original object. He did not say it was right, but it was an error of
+judgment by no means implying swindling--in fact. He disposed of Miss
+Hacket in the same way--foolish, sentimental, unscrupulous, but not to
+that degree. Girls might be silly enough in all conscience, but not so
+as to commit forgery or perjury. That was the gist of it, and happily
+the jury were of the same opinion.'
+
+'Happily? Well, I suppose so,' said Mr. Mohun, with a certain
+sorrowfulness of tone, into which his little daughter entered.
+
+'I say, Rotherwood,' exclaimed the colonel, as the town clock's two
+strokes for the half-hour echoed loudly, 'if you mean to catch the 4.50,
+you must fly.'
+
+'Fly!' he coolly repeated. 'Tell Mysie, Lily, that Fly has never ceased
+talking of her. That child has been saving her money to fit out one of
+Florence's orphan's. She--'
+
+'Rotherwood,' broke in Mr. Mohun, 'your wife charged me to see that you
+were in time for that dinner. A ministerial one.'
+
+'Don't encourage him, Lily,' chimed in the colonel. 'I'll call a cab.
+See him safe off, Maurice.'
+
+And off he was hunted amid the laughter of the ladies; the manner of all
+to one another was so exactly what it had been in the old times.
+
+'I could hardly help telling him to take care, or Victoria would never
+let him out again,' said Miss Mohun. 'Poor old fellow, it would have
+been a fine chance for him with four of us together.'
+
+'You can come back with us, Jenny!'
+
+'I brought my bag in case of accidents.'
+
+'And we'll telegraph to Adeline to join us tomorrow,' said Mr. Mohun,
+who seemed to have been seized with a hunger for the sight of his
+kindred.
+
+'Telegraph! My dear Maurice, Ada's nerves would be torn to smithereens
+by a telegram without me to open it for her. I've a card here to post to
+her; but I expect that I must go down tomorrow and fetch her, which will
+be the best way, for I have a meeting.'
+
+'Jenny, I declare you are a caution even to Miss Hacket,' said Colonel
+Reginald, re-entering.
+
+'Well, Ada always was the family pet. Besides, I told you I had a G.F.S.
+meeting. Did you get a cab for us; Lily has had quite walking enough.'
+
+The ladies went in a cab, while the gentlemen walked. There was not much
+time to spare, and in the compartment into which the first comers
+threw themselves, they found both the Hacket sisters installed, and the
+gentlemen coming up in haste, nodded and got into a smoking-carriage, on
+seeing how theirs was occupied.
+
+'Oh, we could have made room,' said Constance, to whom a gentleman was a
+gentleman under whatever circumstances.
+
+'Dear Miss Dolores's papa! Is it indeed?' said Miss Hacket.
+
+'So wonderfully interesting,' chimed in Constance. And they both made a
+dart at Dolores to kiss her in congratulation, much against her will.
+
+The train clattered on, and Lady Merrifield hoped it would hush all
+other voices, but neither of the Hackets could refrain from discussing
+the trial, and heaping such unmitigated censure on the counsel for the
+prisoner, that Miss Mohun felt herself constrained to fly in the face of
+all she had said at the hotel, and to maintain the right of even such an
+Englishman to be defended, and of his advocate to prevent his conviction
+if possible. On which the regular sentiment against becoming lawyers was
+produced, and the subject might have been dropped if Constance had
+not broken out again, as if she could not leave it. 'So atrocious, so
+abominably insolent, asking if he was unmarried.'
+
+'Evidently flattered!' muttered Aunt Jane, between her teeth, and
+unheard; but the speed slackened, and Constance's voice went on,
+
+'I really thought I should have died of it on the spot. The bare idea of
+thinking I could endure such a being.'
+
+'Well,' said Dolores, just as the clatter ceased at a little station.
+'You know you did walk up and down with him ever so long, and I am sure
+you liked him very much.'
+
+An indignant 'You don't understand' was absolutely cut off by an
+imperative grasp and hush from Miss Hacket the elder; Aunt Jane was
+suffocating with laughter, Lady Merrifield, between that and a certain
+shame for womanhood, which made her begin to talk at random about
+anything or everything else.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. -- NAY.
+
+
+
+'What a mull they have made of it!' were Mr. Maurice Mohun's first words
+when he found the compartment free for a tete-a-tete with his brother.
+
+'All's well that ends well,' was the brief reply.
+
+'Well, indeed! Mary would not have thought so.' To which the colonel had
+nothing to say.
+
+'It serves me out,' his brother went on presently. 'I ought to have done
+something for that wretched fellow before I went, or, at any rate, have
+put Dolly on her guard; but I always shirked the very thought of him.'
+
+'Nothing would have kept him out of harm's way.'
+
+'It might have kept the child; but she must have been thicker with him
+than I ever knew. However I shall have her with me for the future, and
+in better hands.'
+
+'You really mean to take her out?'
+
+'That's what brought me home. She isn't happy; that is plain from her
+letters; and Jane does not know what to make of her, nor Lilias either.'
+
+'When were your last letters dated?'
+
+'The last week in September.'
+
+'Early days,' muttered the colonel.
+
+'I thought it an experiment, you know; but you said so much about Lily's
+girls being patterns, that I thought Jasper Merrifield might have made
+her more rational and less flighty, and all that sort of thing; but of
+course it was a very different tone from what the child was used to, and
+you couldn't tell what the young barbarians were out of sight.'
+
+'So I began to think last winter; but I fancy you will find that she and
+Lily understand one another a good deal better than they did at first.'
+
+'I thought she did not receive my intelligence as a deliverance. I am
+glad if she can carry away an affectionate remembrance, but I want to
+have her under my own eye.'
+
+'I suppose that's all right,' was the half reluctant reply.
+
+'There's Phyllis. She is full of good sense, with no nonsense about her
+or May, and her girls are downright charming.'
+
+'Very likely; but I say, Maurice, you must not underrate Lilias. She has
+gone through a good deal with Dolores, and I believe she has been the
+making of her. You've had to leave the poor child a good deal to herself
+and Fraulein, and, as you see by this affair, she had some ways that
+made it hard for Lily to deal with her at first.'
+
+Her father plainly did not like this. 'There was no harm in the poor
+child, but as I should have foreseen, there's always an atmosphere of
+sentiment and ritual and flummery about Lilias, totally different from
+what she was used to.'
+
+Colonel Mohun had nearly said, 'So much the better,' but turned it into,
+'I think you will change your opinion.'
+
+Brothers and sisters, and cousins, whatever they may be to the external
+world, always remain relatively to each other pretty much as they knew
+one another when a single home held them all. The familiar Christian
+names seemed to revive the old ways, and it was amusing to see the
+somewhat grave and silent colonel treated by his elder brother as the
+dashing, heedless boy, needing to be looked after, while his sister Jane
+remained the ready helper and counsellor, and Lady Merrifield was
+still in his eyes the unpractical, fanciful Lily with an unfortunately
+suggestive rhyme to her name.
+
+Perhaps it maintained him in this opinion, that when he had answered
+all questions about Captain and Mrs. Harry May, and had dilated on their
+pretty house in the suburbs of Auckland, his sisters expected him to
+tell of the work of the Church among the Maoris and Fijians. He laughed
+at them for thinking colonists troubled their heads about natives.
+
+'I know Phyllis does. One of Harry May's brothers went out as a
+missionary.'
+
+'Disenchanted and came home again when his wife came into a fortune.'
+
+'Not a bit of it,' said Aunt Jane. 'I know him and all about him. He
+stayed till his health broke, and now he is one of the most useful men
+in the country. He is coming to speak for the S.P.G. at Rockquay, Lily;
+and you must come and meet him and his charming wife. They will tell you
+a very different story about Harry's doings.'
+
+'Well,' allowed Mr. Mohun, 'there are apparitions of brown niggers
+done up as smart as twopence prancing about the house. Perfectly
+uninteresting, you know, the savage sophisticated out of his
+picturesqueness. I made a point of asking no questions, not knowing what
+I might be let in for.'
+
+'Then you heard nothing of Mr. Ward, the Melanesian missionary, whom
+Phyllis keeps a room for when he comes to New Zealand to recruit.'
+
+'The man who was convicted of murder on circumstantial evidence! Oh yes.
+I heard of him. I believe the labour-traffic agents heartily wish him at
+Portland still, he makes the natives so much too sharp.'
+
+'Aye,' said the colonel, 'as long as Britons aren't slaves they have no
+objection to anything but the name for other people.'
+
+'Wait till you get out there, Regie, and see what they all say about
+those lazy fellows--except, of course, ladies and parsons, and a few
+whom they've bitten, like May.'
+
+'The few are on the Christian side, of course,' said Lady Merrifield,
+with irony in her tone.
+
+Indeed, she was not at all sure that half this colonial prejudice was
+not assumed in order to tease her, just as in former times her brother
+would make game of her enthusiasms about school children; for he was
+altogether returned to his old self, his sister Jane, who had seen the
+most of him, testifying that the original Maurice had revived, as never
+in the course of his married life.
+
+Dolores tried to forget or disbelieve the words she had heard about his
+having come to fetch her away, and said no word about them until they
+had been unmistakably repeated. Then she felt a sort of despair at the
+idea of being separated from her aunt and Mysie, for indeed they had
+penetrated to affections deeper than had ever been consciously stirred
+in her before. Yet she was old enough to shrink from allowing to her
+father that she preferred staying with them to going with him, and it
+was to her Aunt Jane that she had recourse. That lady, after returning
+from her expedition to bring her sister Adeline to Silverton, was
+surprised by a timid knock at the door, and Dolores's entrance.
+
+'Oh, if you please, Aunt Jane, may I come in? I do so want to speak to
+you alone. Don't you think it is a sad pity that I should go away from
+the Cambridge examination? Could not you tell my father so?'
+
+'You want to stay for the Cambridge examination,' said Aunt Jane, a
+little amused at the manner of touching on the subject, though sorry for
+the girl.
+
+'I have been taking great pains under Miss Vincent, and it does seem a
+pity to miss it.'
+
+'I don't think it will make much difference to you.'
+
+'Oh, but I do want to be thoroughly well educated. I meant to go through
+them all, like Gillian and Mysie, and I am sure father must wish it too.
+I know he meant it when he went out last year.'
+
+'Yes, he did,' said Miss Mohun. 'It was very unlucky that he did not get
+any of our later letters.'
+
+'I have tried to tell him that it is all different now, but he does not
+seem to care,' said Dolores.
+
+'He has quite made up his mind,' said her aunt.
+
+'Has he quite?' said Dolores. 'I thought perhaps if you talked to him
+about the examination and the confirmation too--'
+
+'But, Dolly, you are not going to a heathen country. Your confirmation
+will be as much attended to in New Zealand as here.'
+
+'Oh, but I should be confirmed with Mysie, and Aunt Lily would read with
+me, and help me!'
+
+'Yes, I see.'
+
+'Do please tell him. Aunt Jane. He heeds what you say more than any one.
+Do tell him that the only hope of my being good is if I stay with Aunt
+Lily just these few years!'
+
+'Ah, Dolly, that is what you really mean and care about--not the
+Cambridge business.'
+
+'Of course it is. Please tell him, Aunt Jane--somehow I can't--that I
+was bad and foolish when I wrote all the letters he had; but now I know
+better, and--and--I don't want to vex him, but I shall be ever so much
+better a daughter to him if he will leave me with Aunt Lily, to learn
+some of her goodness'--and there were tears in her eyes, for these
+months had softened her greatly.
+
+'My poor Dolly!' said Aunt Jane, much more tenderly than she generally
+spoke. 'I am very sorry for you. I do think Aunt Lily has been the
+making of you, and that it is very hard that you should have to be
+uprooted from her, just as you had learnt to value her, I will tell your
+father so; but honestly, I do not think it is likely to make him change
+his mind.'
+
+Miss Mohun sought her brother out the next day, and told him that they
+had all been waiting in patience when thinking that his daughter's
+residence at Silverton was an unsuccessful experiment. The explosion she
+had predicted had come, and Dolores had been a different creature ever
+since, owing to Lady Merrifield's management of her in the crisis; and
+she added that the girl was most unwilling to leave her aunt, and that
+she herself thought it would be much better to leave her for a few years
+to the advantages of her present training, where her affections had been
+gained. Mr. Mohun could not see it in the same light. The intimacy with
+Constance Hacket was in his eyes a folly, consequent on his sister's
+passion for Sunday schools and charities; and Jane, being infected
+with the like ardour, he disregarded her explanations. The underhand
+correspondence could not have been carried on without great blindness
+and carelessness, or, at least, injudiciousness, on Lady Merrifield's
+part, and there was no denying that she had trusted to a sense of honour
+that was nonexistent. Nor did he appreciate Jane's argument that the
+conquest of the heart and will had thus been far more thoroughly gained
+than it would have been by constant thwarting and watching. It was hard
+to forgive such an exposure as had taken place, or to believe that it
+had not been brought about by unjustifiable errors, more especially as
+Lady Merrifield was the first to accuse herself of them. Moreover, he
+had become sensible of a strong natural yearning for the presence of
+his only child, and he had been so much struck with his sister Phyllis's
+family that he sincerely believed himself consulting the girl's best
+interests. He was by no means an irreligious or ungodly man, but he had
+always thought his sister Lilias more or less of an enthusiast, and he
+did not wish to see Dolores the same. Perhaps, indeed, the poor child's
+manifest clinging to her aunt and cousins made him all the more resolute
+to remove her before her affection should be entirely weaned from
+himself.
+
+He made his headquarters at Silverton, and during the next two months
+modified his opinions so far as to confess to his sister Jane that
+Lilias was a much more sensible woman than he had believed her, and had
+her children well in hand. He even allowed that Dolores was improved,
+and owed much to her kindness; and when the first sting of the exposure
+was over, he could see that the treatment had been far from injudicious
+as regarded the girl's own character. He was even glad that warm love
+and friendship had grown up towards her aunt and cousins; but all this
+left his purpose unchanged; although, after the first, nothing was said
+about it, Dolores tried to forget it, and hoped that the sight of her
+going on well and peaceably would convince him of the inexpediency of
+disturbing her. She could not even mention it to Mysie, lest the dread
+should become a reality by being uttered. So no more passed on the
+subject till it became necessary to take her outfit in hand, and he
+also wished to take her to Beechcroft, that the old family home which he
+regarded with fresh tenderness might be impressed on her memory.
+
+Then, though she never durst directly oppose the fate which he destined
+for her, she surprised him by a violent burst of tears and sobbing, and
+an entreaty that he would not take her away from Aunt Lily and Mysie a
+moment sooner than could be helped.
+
+She clung to everything, even to the guinea-pigs, and she was the first
+in the Easter holidays to beg for the 'Thorn Fortress.' Indeed, Mysie
+was a little shocked at her grief, as disloyal and unfilial. 'One ought
+not to mind going anywhere with one's father,' she said; 'we all thought
+it a great honour for Phyllis and Alethea.'
+
+'They are grown up!' said Dolores, 'and Aunt Lily does get into one so!
+Oh, don't say there's Aunt Phyllis. I hate the very name of her.'
+
+'She must be nice,' said Mysie, 'Whenever the 'grown-ups' are pleased
+with me they say I am getting like her, as if it was the best thing one
+could be.'
+
+'But I don't want Mysie old and grown up, I want my Mysie now, as you
+are!--And you'll forget and leave off writing, like Maude Sefton.'
+
+'Never!' cried Mysie. 'Eight across the world you will always be my own
+twin cousin.'
+
+The wishes of the girl were so far fulfilled that Lady Merrifield took
+her to London to provide her outfit, and Mysie accompanied them. A room
+and its dressing-room received the three at old Mrs. Merrifield's, and
+the two cousins thought their close quarters ineffably precious.
+
+Mysie was introduced to Maude Sefton, who seemed entirely unconscious
+of her treachery to friendship. 'One had so little time, and couldn't
+always be writing,' she said, when Dolores reproached her; 'exercises
+were enough to tire out one's hand!'
+
+They also drank tea with Lady Phyllis Devereux and her governess. Fly
+could not pour forth questions and reminiscences fast enough about
+all the beloved animals at Silverton, not forgetting the little G.F.S.
+nursemaid, for whom she had actually made an apron in her plain-work
+lessons. Moreover, she deemed Dolores's fate most enviable, to be
+going off with her father to strange countries, away from lessons, and
+masters, and towns. It would be almost as good as Leila on the island.
+
+As to the Beechcroft visit, Mr. and Mrs. Mohun collected all the
+brothers and sisters in England there for a week, and still Mysie and
+Dolores were allowed to be together, squeezed into a corner of Lady
+Merrifield's room. It was high summer, bright and glowing, and so dry,
+and even the invalidish sisters, Lady Henry Gray and Miss Adeline Mohun
+could not object to the sitting out on the lawn, among the dragonflies,
+as in days of yore.
+
+Much of old thought and feeling was then and there taken up again, and
+it was on one of the last evenings of the visit that Mr. Mohun, walking
+up and down the alley with Lady Merrifield, said--
+
+'Well, Lily, I think my determination to take Dolly away was hasty. I
+cannot leave her now, but if I had understood all that I see at present,
+I should have been both content and grateful to have her among your
+children. I am afraid I have been ungracious.'
+
+'I never thought so, Maurice. It is quite right that she should be with
+you, and Phyllis will do every-thing for her much better than I.'
+
+'Poor child! I believe she is very sorry to go,' said Mr. Mohun; 'but,
+at any rate, she will remember Silverton as, I hope, a lasting influence
+on her life.'
+
+Dolores truly believed that so it would be, and that her aunt's guidance
+would be always looked back upon as the turning-point of her life.
+
+'It is my own fault,' she said, as on the last night she clung tearfully
+to Lady Merrifield; 'if I had behaved better I might have gone on just
+like one of your own.'
+
+'You will still be in my heart like one of my own, dear child,' said
+Lady Merrifield. 'We know the way in which we all can hold together as
+one; keep to that, and the distance apart will matter the less.'
+
+And as they watched Dolores and her father driven away to the station
+the next morning, Jane Mohun laid her hand on her sister's arm and said,
+'You thought you had made a great failure. Lily, but is not the other
+side of a failure often a success?'
+
+By-and-by came letters from Dolores. She seemed after the first to have
+enjoyed her journey, for, as she wrote to Lady Merrifield, in a letter,
+very private, and all to her own self, 'Father was so very good and kind
+to me, I don't know how to tell you. It was as if a little bit of mother
+had got into him, and now I am here I think I shall like the Mays.
+Indeed, I am trying to remember your advice, and not beginning by hating
+everybody and thinking who they are not. Aunt Phyllis is very nice
+indeed, and sometimes her eyes and mouth get like Mysie's, and her voice
+is just exactly yours. Only she is plump and roundabout, not a dear,
+tall, graceful figure like my White Lily Aunt. Please don't call
+it nonsense, for indeed I mean it, and Aunt Phyllis does like your
+photograph so much. I have the whole group hung up in my room, and you
+over it, and I wish you all good morning every day, for I never, never,
+as long as I live, shall love anybody like you and Mysie.'
+
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
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+Project Gutenberg's The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
+#37 in our series by Charlotte M. Yonge
+
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+Title: The Two Sides of the Shield
+
+Author: Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6007]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on October 16, 2002]
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD ***
+
+
+
+
+This Project Gutenberg Etext was prepared by Hanh Vu, capriccio_vn@yahoo.com.
+A web page for Charlotte M Yonge will be found at www.menorot.com/cmyonge.htm.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+
+BY
+
+CHARLOTTE M YONGE
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+
+It is sometimes treated as an impertinence to revive the personages of
+one story in another, even though it is after the example of
+Shakespeare, who revived Falstaff, after his death, at the behest of
+Queen Elizabeth.  This precedent is, however, a true impertinence in
+calling on the very great to justify the very small!
+
+Yet many a letter in youthful handwriting has begged for further
+information on the fate of the beings that had become favourites of the
+school-room; and this has induced me to believe that the following out
+of my own notions as to the careers of former heroes and heroines might
+not be unwelcome; while I have tried to make the story stand
+independently for new readers, unacquainted with the tale in which Lady
+Merrifield and her brothers and sisters first appeared.
+
+'Scenes and Characters' was, however, published so long ago, that the
+young readers of this generation certainly will only know it if it has
+had the good fortune to have been preserved by their mothers.  It was
+only my second book, and in looking back at it so as to preserve
+consistency, I have been astonished at its crudeness.
+
+It will explain a few illusions to state that it is the story of the
+motherless family of Mohuns of Beechcroft, with a kindly deaf father at
+the head, Mr. Mohun, whose pet name was the Baron of Beechcroft, owing
+to a romantic notion of his daughters made fun of by his sons.  The
+eldest sister, a stiff, sensible, dry woman, had just married and gone
+to India, leaving her post to the next in age, Emily, who was much too
+indolent for the charge.  Lilies, the third in age, with her head full
+of the kind of high romance and sentiment more prevalent thirty or
+forty years ago than now, imagined that whereas the household had
+formerly been ruled by duty, it now might be so by love.  Of course,
+confusion dire was the consequence, chiefly with the younger boys, the
+scientific, cross-grained Maurice, and the high-spirited, turbulent
+Reginald, all the mischief being fomented by Jane's pertness and
+curiosity, and only mitigated by the honest simplicity and dutifulness
+of eight years old Phyllis.  The remedy was found at last in the
+marriage of the eldest son William with Alethea Weston, already
+Lilias's favourite friend and model.
+
+That in a youthful composition there should be a cavalier ancestry, a
+family much given to dying of consumption, and a young marquess cousin
+is, perhaps, inevitable.  Lord Rotherwood was Mr. Mohun's ward, and
+having a dull home of his own, found his chief happiness as well as all
+the best influences of his life, in the merry, highly-principled,
+though easy-going life at his uncle's, whom he revered like a father,
+while his eager, somewhat shatter-brained nature often made him a butt
+to his cousins.  All this may account for the tone of camaraderie with
+which the scattered members of the family meet again, especially around
+Lilias, who had, with her cleverness and enthusiasm, always been the
+leading member of the group.
+
+It should, perhaps, also be mentioned that Lord Rotherwood's greatest
+friend was also Lilias's favourite brother, Claude, who had become a
+clergyman and died early.  Aunt Adeline had been the spoilt child and
+beauty of the family, the youngest of all.
+
+C. M. YONGE.
+
+March 8th, 1885.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I.         WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?
+CHAPTER II.        THE MERRIFIELDS
+CHAPTER III.       GOOD BYE
+CHAPTER IV.        TURNED IN AMONG THEM
+CHAPTER V.         THE FIRST WALK
+CHAPTER VI.        PERSECUTION
+CHAPTER VII.       G.F.S.
+CHAPTER VIII.      MY PERSECUTED UNCLE
+CHAPTER IX.        LETTERS
+CHAPTER X.         THE EVENING STAR
+CHAPTER XI.        SECRET EXPEDITIONS
+CHAPTER XII.       A HUNT
+CHAPTER XIII.      AN EGYPTIAN SPHINX
+CHAPTER XIV.       A CYPHER AND A TY
+CHAPTER XV.        THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL
+CHAPTER XVI.       THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE
+CHAPTER XVII.      THE STONE MELTING
+CHAPTER XVIII.     MYSIE AND DOLORES
+CHAPTER XIX.       A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS
+CHAPTER XX.        CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE
+CHAPTER XXI.       IN COURT AND OUT
+CHAPTER XXII.      NAY
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?
+
+
+
+A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which showed a table of
+small dimensions, with a vase of somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses
+in the centre, and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentleman had
+helped himself and a young girl of about thirteen, without much
+apparent consciousness of what he was about, being absorbed in a pile
+of papers, pamphlets, and letters, while she on her side kept a book
+pinned open by a gravy spoon.  The elderly maid-servant, who set the
+dishes before them, handed the vegetables and changed the plates,
+really came as near to feeding the pair as was possible with people
+above three years old.
+
+The one was a dark, thin man, with a good deal of white in his thick
+beard and scanty hair, the absence of which made the breadth of his
+forehead the more remarkable.  The girl would have shown an equally
+remarkable brow, but that her dark hair was cut square over it, so as
+to take off from its height, and give a heavy over-hanging look to the
+upper part of the face, which below was tin and sallow, well-featured,
+but with a want of glow and colour.  The thick masses of dark hair were
+plaited into a very long thick tail behind, hanging down over a black
+evening frock, whose white trimmings were, like everything else about
+the place, rather dingy.  She was far less absorbed than her father,
+and raised a quick, wistful brown eye whenever he made the least sound,
+or shuffled his papers.  Indeed, it seemed that she was reading in
+order to distract her anxiety rather than for the sake of occupation.
+
+It was not till after the last pieces of cheese had been offered and
+refused, and the maid had retired, leaving some dull crackers and
+veteran biscuits, with two decanters and a claret-jug, that he spoke.
+
+'Dolores!'
+
+'Yes, father.'
+
+But he only cleared his throat, and looked at his letter again, while
+she fixed her eager eyes upon him so earnestly that he let his fall
+again, and looked once more over his letters before he spoke again.
+
+'Dolores,' and the tone was dry, as if all feeling were driven from it.
+
+'Yes, father.'
+
+'You know that I have accepted this appointment?'
+
+'Yes, father.'
+
+'And that I shall be absent three years at the least?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Then comes the question, how you are to be disposed of in the
+meantime?'
+
+'Could not I go with you?' she said, under her breath.
+
+'No, my dear.'  And somehow the tone had more tenderness in it, though
+it was so explicit.  'I shall have no fixed residence, no one with whom
+to leave you; and the climate is not fit for you.  Your Aunt Lilias has
+kindly offered to take charge of you.'
+
+'Oh, father!'
+
+'Well?'
+
+'If you would only let me stay here with Caroline and Fraulein.  I like
+it so much better.'
+
+'That cannot be, Dolly.  I have this morning promised to let the house
+as it is to Mr. Smithson.'
+
+'And Caroline?'
+
+'If Caroline takes my advice, she will remain here as his housekeeper,
+and I think she will.  Well, what is it?  You do not mean that you
+would prefer going to your Aunts Jane and Ada?'
+
+'Oh no, no; only if I might go to school.'
+
+'This is nonsense, Dolores.  It will be much better for you on all
+accounts to be with your aunt at Silverfold.  I have no fear that she
+and her girls will not do their best to make you happy and good, and to
+give you what you have sadly wanted, my poor child.  I have always
+wished you could have seen more of her.'
+
+There could be no doubt from the tone, in the mind of any one who knew
+Mr. Maurine Mohun, that the decision was final; but perhaps Dolores
+would have asked more if the door-bell had not rung at the moment and
+Mr. Smithson had not been announced.  Fate was closing in on her.  She
+retired into her book, and remained as long as she possibly could, for
+the sake of seeing her father and hearing his voice; but after a time
+she was desired to call Caroline, and to go to bed herself, for it was
+a good deal past nine o'clock.
+
+She had been aware, she could hardly tell how, that her father had been
+offered a government appointment connected with the Fiji Islands, and
+then that, glad to escape from the dreariness which had settled down on
+the house since his wife's death, about eighteen months previously, he
+had accepted it, and she had speculated much on her probable fate; but
+had never before been officially informed of his designs for himself or
+for her.
+
+He was a barrister, who spent all his leisure time on scientific
+studies, and his wife had been equally devoted to the same pursuits.
+Dolores had been her constant companion; but after the mother's death,
+from an accident on a glacier, a strange barrier of throwing himself
+into the ways of a girl past the charms of infancy.  It was as if they
+had lost their interpreter.
+
+The German governess, chosen by Mrs. Mohun, was very German indeed, and
+greatly occupied in her own studies.  When she found that the armes-
+liebes Madchen shrank from being wept over and caressed on the mournful
+return, she decided that the English had no feeling, and acquiesced in
+the routine of lessons and expeditions to classes.  She was never
+unkind, but she did not try to be a companion; and old Caroline was
+excellent in the attention she paid to the comforts of her master and
+his daughter, but had no love of children, and would not have
+encouraged familiarities, even if Dolores had not been too entirely a
+drawing-room child to offer them.
+
+The morning came, and everything went on as usual;  Dolores poured out
+the coffee, Mr. Mohun read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but
+afterwards he asked for a few minutes' conversation with Fraulein.  All
+that Dolores heard of the result of it was 'So,' and then lessons went
+on until twelve o'clock, when it was the custom that the girl should
+have an hour's recreation, which was, in any tolerable weather, spent
+in the gardens of the far west Crescent, where she lived.  There she
+was nearly certain of meeting her one great friend, Maude Sefton, who
+was always sent out for her airing at the same time.
+
+They spied each other issuing from their doors, met, linked their arms,
+and entered together.  Maude was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow
+bush down her back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great deal
+bigger.
+
+'My dearest Doll!'
+
+'Oh yes, it is come.'
+
+'Then he is really going?  I heard the pater and mater talking about it
+yesterday, and they said it would be an excellent thing for him.'
+
+'Oh, Maude!  Then they did not say anything about what we hoped?'
+
+'What, the mater's offering for you to come and live with us, darling?
+Oh no; and I's afraid it is of no use to ask her, for she said of
+herself, that she knew Mr. Mohun had sisters, and--'
+
+'And what?  Tell me, Maude.  You must!'
+
+'Well, then, you know you made me, and I think it is a shame.  She said
+she was glad she wasn't one of them, for you were such a peculiar
+child.'
+
+'Dear me, Maude, you needn't mind telling me that!  I'm sure I don't
+want to be like everybody else.'
+
+'And are you going to one of your aunts?'
+
+'Yes, to Aunt Lilias.  Oh, Maude, he would not hear a word against it,
+and I know it will be so horrid!  Aunts are always nasty!'
+
+'Kate is very fond of her aunt,' said Maude, who did not happen to have
+any personal experiences to oppose to this sweeping assertion.
+
+'Oh, I don't mean proper aunts, but aunts that have orphans left to
+them.'
+
+'But you are not an orphan, darling.'
+
+'I dare say I shall be.  'Tis a horrible climate, and there are no end
+of cannibals there, so that he would not take me out for anything,--and
+sharks, and volcanoes, and hurricanes.'
+
+'I don't think they eat people there now.'
+
+'It's bad enough if they don't!  And you know those aunts begin pretty
+well, while they are in fear of the father, but then they get worse.'
+
+'There was Ada Morton,' said Maude, in a tone of conviction, 'and Anna
+Ross.'
+
+'Oh yes, and another book, 'Rose Turquand.'  It was a grown-up book,
+that I read once--long ago,' said Dolores, who had in her mother's time
+been allowed a pretty free range of 'book-box.'
+
+"And there's 'Under the Shield,' but that was a boy."
+
+'There are lots and lots,' said Dolores.  'They are ever so much worse
+than the stepmothers!  Not that there is any fear of that!' she added
+quickly.
+
+'But isn't this Aunt Lilias nice?  It's a pretty name.  Which is she?
+You have one aunt a Lady Something, haven't you?'
+
+'Yes, it is this one, Lady Merrifield.  Her husband is a general, Sir
+Jasper Merrifield, and he is gone out to command in some place in
+India; but she cannot stand the climate, and is living at home at a
+place called Silverfold, with a whole lot of children.  I think two are
+gone out with their father, but there are a great many more.'
+
+'Don't you know them at all?'
+
+'No, and don't want to!  I think my aunts were unkind to mother!'
+
+'Oh!' exclaimed Maude.
+
+'I am sure of it.  They were horrid, stuck-up, fine ladies, and looked
+down on her, though she was ever so much nicer, and cleverer, and more
+intellectual than they; and she looked down on them.'
+
+'Are you sure?'  asked Maude, to whom it was as good as a story.
+
+'Yes, indeed.  She was civil, of course, because they were father's
+sisters, but I know she couldn't bear them.  If any of them came to
+London, there was a calling, but all very stupid, and a dining at Lord
+Rotherwood's; but she never would, except once, when I can hardly
+remember, go to stay at their slow places in the country.  I've heard
+father try to persuade her when they didn't think I understood.  You
+know we always went abroad, or to the sea or something, except last
+year, when we were at Beechcroft.  That wasn't so bad, for there were
+lots of books, and Uncle Reginald was there, and he is jolly.'
+
+'Can't you get Mr. Mohun to send you there?'
+
+'No, I don't think they would have me, for every body there is grown
+up, and father seems to have a wish for me to be with this Aunt Lilias,
+because she has a schoolroom.'
+
+'I wonder he should wish it, if she was unkind to Mrs. Mohun.'
+
+'Well, she was out of the way most of the time.  They have lived at
+Malta and Gibraltar, and Belfast, and all sorts of places, so they will
+all have regular garrison frivolous manner, and think of nothing but
+officers and balls.  I know she was a beauty, and wants to be one
+still.'
+
+'Maude, whose father was a professor, looked quite appalled and said--
+
+'You will be the one to infuse better things.'  She felt quite proud of
+the word.
+
+'Perhaps,' returned Dolores;  'they always do that in time, but not
+till they've been awfully bullied.  All the cousins are jealous, and
+the aunt spites them because they are nicer and prettier than her own.'
+
+'Yes,' said Maude, 'but then there's always some tremendously nice boy-
+cousin, or uncle, or something, that makes up for it all.  Will Sir
+Jasper Merrifield's eldest son be a Sir?'
+
+'Oh no; he's not a baronet, but a G.C.B., Knight Grand Cross of the
+Bath, that is.  Besides, I don't care for love, and titles, and all
+that nonsense, though father is first cousin to Lord Rotherwood.'
+
+'And you never saw any of them?'
+
+'Yes, Aunt Lilias was at the Charing Cross Hotel with Uncle Jasper and
+the two eldest daughters, Alethea and Phyllis, and some more of them,
+just before they sailed; and father took me there on Sunday to
+luncheon; but there were so many people, and such a talk, and such a
+bustle, that I hardly knew which was which.  Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada
+were a talking that it made my head turn round; but I saw how affected
+Aunt Lilias is, and I knew that whenever they looked at me they said
+'poor child,' and I always hate any one who does that!  All I was
+afraid of then was that father would let Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada come
+and live with us; but this is ever so much worse.'
+
+'You have such a lot of aunts and uncles!' said Maude, 'and I have not
+got anything but one old uncle.'
+
+'Uncles are all very well,' said Dolores, said Maude.  'There are the
+two Miss Mohuns--'
+
+'Oh, that's beginning at the wrong end.  Aunt Ada is the youngest of
+them all, and she thinks she is a young lady still, and wears little
+curls on her forehead, and a tennis pinafore, and makes her waist just
+like a wasp.  She and Aunt Jane live together at Rockquay, because she
+has bad health--at least she has whenever she likes; and Aunt Jane does
+all sorts of charities and worries, and sets everybody to rights,' said
+Dolly, in a very grown-up voice, speaking partly from her own
+observation, and partly repeating what she had caught from her elders.
+
+'Oh yes, I know her,' said Maude.  'She asked me questions about all I
+did, and she did bother mamma so about a maid she recommended that we
+are never going to take another from her.'
+
+'Aunt Phyllis comes between them, I believe; but she has married a
+sailor captain and gone to settle in New Zealand, and I have not seen
+her since I was a very little girl.  Then there's Aunt Emily, who is a
+very great swell indeed.  Her husband was a canon, Lord Henry Grey; but
+he is dead, and she lives at Brighton, a regular fat, comfortable down-
+pillow of a woman, who isn't bad to lunch with, only she sends one out
+to the Parade with her maid, as if one was a baby.  Mother used to
+laugh at her.  And I think there was an older one who went to India and
+died long ago.'
+
+'I have seen your two uncles.  There's Major Mohun.  Oh! he is fun!'
+
+'Yes, dear old Uncle Regie!  I wish he was not in Ireland.  He will be
+so sorry to miss seeing father off, but he can't get leave.  And there
+was a clergyman who is dead, and father grieved for very much.  I think
+he did something to make them all nicer to mother, for it was just
+after that we went to stay at Beechcroft with Uncle William.  You know
+him, and how mother used to call him the very model of a country
+squire; and I like his wife, Aunt Alethea.  Only it is very pokey and
+slow down there, and they are always after flannel petticoats and soup
+kitchens, and all the old fads that are exploded.  I should get awfully
+tired of it before a year was out, only I should not be teased with
+strange children, and there would be no one to be jealous of me.'
+
+'Can't you get your father to change and send you there?'
+
+'Not a chance.  You see Aunt Lilias had offered, and they haven't, and
+I must go on with my education.  I hope, though I shall have no
+advantages, I shall still be able to go up for the Cambridge
+examination, if Aunt Lilias has not prejudices, as I dare say she has,
+since of course none of her own will be able to try.'
+
+'You'll come up to us for the examination, Dolly dear, and we shall do
+it together, and that will be nice!'
+
+'If they will let me; but I don't expect to be allowed to do anything
+that I wish.  Only perhaps father may be come home by that time.'
+
+'Is it three years?'
+
+'Yes.  It is a terrible time, isn't it?  However, when I'm seventeen
+perhaps he will talk to me, and I can really keep house.'
+
+'And then you'll come back here?'
+
+'Do you know, Maudie--listen--I've another uncle, belonging to mother.'
+
+'Oh, Dolly!  I thought she had no one!'
+
+'He told me he was my Uncle Alfred once when he met me in the park with
+Fraulein, and gave me a note for mother.  He is called Mr. Flinders.'
+
+'But I thought your mother was daughter to Professor Hay?'
+
+'But this is a half-brother; my grandmother was married before.  Uncle
+Alfrey has an immense light beard, and I think he is very poor.  He
+came once or twice to see mother, and they always sent me out of the
+room; but I am sure she gave him money--not father's housekeeping
+money, but what she got for herself by writing.  Once I heard father go
+out of the house, saying, 'Well, it's your own to do as you please
+with.'  And then mother went to her room, and I know she cried.  It was
+the only time that ever mother cried!'  And as Maude listened, much
+impressed--'Once when she had got eleven pounds, and we were going to
+have bought father such a binocular for a secret as a birthday present,
+Mr. Flinders came, and she gave him ten of it, and we could only buy
+just a few slides for father.  And she told me she was grieved, but she
+could not help it, and it would be time for me to understand when I was
+older.'
+
+'I don't think this Uncle Alfrey can be nice,' said Maude.
+
+''Tis quite disgusting if he kisses me,' said Dolly; 'but you see he is
+poor, and all the Mohuns are stuck up, except father, and they wanted
+mother to despise him, and not help him.  And you see, she stuck to
+him.  I don't like him much; but you see nobody ever was like her!  Oh,
+Maude, if she wasn't dead!'
+
+And poor Dolores cried as she had not done even at the time of the
+accident, or in the terrible week that followed, or at the desolate
+home coming.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE MERRIFIELDS.
+
+
+
+The cool twilight of a long sunny summer's day was freshening the
+pleasant garden of a country house, and three people were walking
+slowly along a garden path enjoying the contrast with the heat, glare,
+and noise of the day.  The central one was a tall, slender lady, with a
+light shawl hung round her shoulders.  On one side was a youth who had
+begun to overtop her, on the other a girl of shorter and sturdier
+mould, who only reached up to her shoulder.
+
+'So she is coming!' the girl said.
+
+'Yes, Uncle Maurice has answered my letter very kindly.'
+
+'I should think he would be very much obliged,' observed the boy.
+
+'Please, mamma, do tell us all about it,' said the girl.  'You know I
+stopped directly when you made me a sign not to go on asking questions
+before the little ones.  And you said you should have to make us your
+friends while papa and the grown-ups are away.'
+
+'Well, Gillian, I know you can be discreet when you are warned, and
+perhaps it is best that you should know how things stand.  Do you
+remember anything about it, Hal?'
+
+'Only a general perception that there were tempests in the higher
+regions, but I think that was more from hearing Alley and Phyl talk
+than from my native sagacity.'
+
+'So I should suppose, since you were only six years old, at the
+utmost.'
+
+'But Uncle Maurice always was under a cloud, wasn't he, especially at
+Beechcroft, where I never saw him or his wife in the holidays except
+once, when I believe she was not at all liked, and was thought to be
+very proud, and stuck-up, and pretentious.'
+
+'But was she just nobody? not a lady?' cried Gillian.  'Aunt Emily
+always called her, '"Poor thing."'
+
+'Perhaps she did the same by Aunt Emily,' returned Hal.
+
+'And I am sure I have heard Aunt Ada say that she wasn't a lady; and
+Aunt Jane that she had all sorts of discreditable connections.'
+
+'Come now, Gill, if you chatter so, how is mamma to get a word in
+between?'
+
+'I'm afraid we have all been hard on her, poor thing!'
+
+'There now, mamma has done it, just like Aunt Emily!'
+
+'Anybody would be poor who got killed in a glacier!'
+
+'No, but one doesn't say poor when people are--nice.'
+
+'When I said poor,' now put in Lady Merrifield, 'it was not so much
+that I was thinking of her death as of her having come into a family
+where nobody welcomed her, and I really do not suppose it was her
+fault.'
+
+'Moreover, she seemed to do very well without a welcome,' added Hal.
+
+'Who is interrupting now?' cried Gillian, 'but was she a lady?'
+
+'I never saw her, you know,' said the mother; 'but from all I ever
+heard of her, I should think she was, and cleverer and more highly
+educated than any of us.'
+
+'Yes,' said Hal, 'that was the kind of pretension that exasperated them
+all at Beechcroft, especially Uncle William.'
+
+'I wonder if Dolores will have it!' said Gillian.  'I suppose she will
+know much more than we do.'
+
+'Probably, being the only child of such parents, and with every
+advantage London can give.  Maurice was always much the cleverest of us
+all, and with a very strong mechanical and scientific turn, so that I
+now think it might have been better to have let him follow his bent.
+But when we were young there was a good deal of mistrust of anything
+outside the beaten tracks of gentlemanlike professions, and my dear old
+father did not like what he heard of the course of study for those
+lines.  Things were not as they are now.  So Maurice went to Cambridge,
+and was fifth wrangler of his year, and then had to go to the bar.  It
+somehow always gave him a thwarted, injured feeling of working against
+the grain, and he cultivated all these scientific pursuits to the
+utmost, getting more and more into opinions and society that distressed
+grandpapa and Uncle William.  So he fell in with Mr. Hay, a professor
+at a German university.  I can hear William's tone of utter contempt
+and disgust.  I believe this poor man was exceedingly learned, and had
+made some remarkable discoveries, but he was very poor, and lived in
+lodgings at Bonn with his daughter in the small way people are content
+to do in Germany.  As to his opinions, we all took it for granted that
+he was a freethinker; but I can't tell how that might be.  Maurice
+lodged in the same house one year when he went to learn German and
+attend lectures, and he went back again every long vacation.  At last
+came your dear grandfather's death.  Maurice hurried away from
+Beechcroft immediately after the funeral, and the next thing that was
+heard of him was that he had married Miss Hay.  It was no wonder that
+your Uncle William was bitterly hurt and offended at the apparent
+disrespect to our father, and would make no move towards Maurice.'
+
+'It was when we were at the Cape, wasn't it?' asked Hal.
+
+'Yes, the year Gillian was born.  Well, your dear Uncle Claude went to
+see Maurice in London, and found there was much excuse.  Maurice had
+learnt that the old professor was dying, and his daughter had nothing,
+and would have had to be a governess, so that Maurice had married her
+in haste in order to be able to help them.'
+
+'Then it really was very kind and noble in him!' exclaimed Gillian.
+
+'And I believe every one would have felt it so; but for his
+unfortunately reserved way of concealing the extent of the
+acquaintance, and showing that he would not be interfered with.  Claude
+did his best to close the breach, but there had been something to
+forgive on both sides, and perhaps SHE was prouder than the Mohuns
+themselves.  Oh! my dears, I hope you will never have a family quarrel
+among you!  It is so sad to look back upon a change after the happy
+years when we were all together, and were laughing and making fun of
+one another!'
+
+'But you were quite out of it, mamma.'
+
+'So I was in a way, but I knew nothing of the justification till too
+late for any advances from us to take much effect.  I am four years
+older than Maurice, we had never been a pair, and had never
+corresponded.  And when I wrote to him and to his wife, I only received
+stiff, formal answers.  They were abroad when we were in London on
+coming home, and they would not come to see us at Belfast, so that I
+could never make acquaintance with her; but I believe she was an
+excellent wife, suiting him admirably in every way, and I expect to
+find this little daughter of theirs very well brought up, and much
+forwarder than honest old Mysie.'
+
+'Mysie is in perfect raptures at the notion of having a cousin here
+exactly of her own age,' said Gillian.  'What she would wish is that
+the two should be so much alike as to be taken for twins.  I have been
+trying to remember Dolores on that dreadful Sunday at the hotel, when
+Uncle Maurice came to see us, just when papa was setting off for
+Bombay, but it all seems confusion.  I can think of nothing but a
+little black, shy figure.  I remember Phyllis telling me that she
+thought I ought to do something to entertain her, but I could not think
+of a word to say to her.'
+
+'For which perhaps she was thankful,' said her brother.
+
+'I am not sure.  You are all too apt, when you are shy, to console
+yourself with fancying that you are doing as you would be done by.  It
+might have worried her then perhaps, but it would have made it easier
+for her to begin among us now!  I am very glad her father consents to
+my having her!  I do hope we may make her happy.'
+
+'Happy!' said Gillian.  'Anybody must be happy with such a number to
+play with, and with you to mother her, mamma.'
+
+'I am afraid she will not feel me much like her own mother, poor child!
+But it will not be for want of the will.  When I look back now I feel
+sorry for myself for the early loss of my mother, for though we were
+all merry enough as children and young people, there always seems to
+have been a lack of something fostering and repressing.  There was a
+kind of desolateness in our life, though we did not understand it at
+the time.  I am thankful you have not known it, my dears.'  There was a
+strange rush of tears nearly choking her voice, and she shook them away
+with a sort of laugh.  'That I should cry for that at this time of
+day!'
+
+Gillian raised her face for a kiss, and even Harry did the same.  Their
+hearts were very full, as the perception swept over them in one flash
+what their lives would have been without mamma.  It seemed like the
+solid earth giving way under their feet!
+
+'I am very sorry for poor Dolores,' said Gillian presently.  'It seems
+as if we could never be kind enough to her.'
+
+'Yes.  Indeed I hope we may do something towards supplying her with a
+real home, wandering sprites as we have been,' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'What a name it is!  Dolores!  It is as bad as Peter Grievous!  How did
+she get it?'  grumbled Harry.
+
+'That I cannot tell, but I think we must call her Dora or Dolly, as I
+fancy your Aunt Jane told me she was called at home.  I hope Wilfred
+will not get hold of it and tease her about it.  You must defend her
+from that.'
+
+'If we can,' said Gillian; 'but Wilfred is rather an imp.'
+
+'Yes,' said Harry.  'I found Primrose reduced to the verge of
+distraction yesterday because 'Willie would call her Leg of Mutton.''
+
+'I hope you boxed his ears!' cried Gillian.
+
+'I did give it to him well,' said Hal, laughing.
+
+'Thank you,' said his mother.  'A big brother is more effective in such
+cases than any one else can be.  Wilfred is the only one of you all who
+ever seemed to take pleasure in causing pain--and I hardly know how to
+meet the propensity.'
+
+'He is the only one who is not quite certain to be nice with Dolores,'
+said Gillian.
+
+'And I really don't quite see how to manage,' said the mother.  'If we
+show him our anxiety to shield her, it is very likely to direct his
+attention that way.'
+
+'She must take her chance,' said Hal, 'and if she is any way rational,
+she can soon put a stop to it.'
+
+'But, oh dear!  I wish he could go to school,' said Gillian.
+
+'So do I, my dear,' returned her mother; 'but you know the doctors say
+we must not risk it for another year, and I can only hope that as he
+grows stronger, he may become more manly.  Meantime we must be patient
+with him, and Hal can help more than any one else.  There--what's that
+striking?'
+
+'Three quarters.'
+
+'Then we must make haste in, or we shall not have finished supper
+before ten.'
+
+Lilias Mohun had married a soldier, and after many wanderings through
+military stations, the health and education of a large proportion of
+her family had necessitated her remaining at home with them, while her
+husband held a command in India, taking out with him the two grown-up
+daughters and the second son, who was on his staff.  She was
+established in a large house not far from a country town, for the
+convenience of daily governess, tutor, and masters.  She herself had
+grown up on the old system which made education depend more on the
+family than on the governess, and she preferred honestly the company
+and training of her children to going into society in her husband's
+absence.  Therefore she arranged her habits with a view to being
+constantly with them, and though exchanging calls, and occasionally
+accepting invitations in the neighbourhood, it was an understood thing
+that she went out very little.  The chief exceptions were when her
+eldest son, Harry, was at home from Oxford.  He was devotedly fond of
+her, and all the more pleased and proud to take her about with him
+because it had not always been possible that his holidays in his school
+life should be spent at home, and thus the privilege was doubly prized.
+
+The two sisters above and one brother below him were in India with
+their father, and Gillian was not yet out of the schoolroom, though
+this did not cut her off from being her mother's prime companion.  Then
+followed a schoolboy at Wellington, named Jasper, two more girls, a
+brace of boys, and the five-year-old baby of the establishment--
+sufficient reasons to detain Lady Merrifield in England after more than
+twenty years of travels as a soldier's wife, so that scarcely three of
+her children had the same birthplace.  She had been able to see very
+little of her English relations, being much tied by the number of her
+children while all were very young, and the expense of journeys; but
+she was now within easy reach of her two unmarried sisters, and after
+the Cape, Gibraltar, Malta, and Dublin, the homes of her eldest sister,
+and of her eldest brother did not seem very far off.
+
+Indeed Beechcroft, the home of her childhood, had always been the
+headquarters of herself and her children on their rare visits to
+England.  Her elder boys had been sure of a welcome there in the
+holidays, and loved it scarcely less than she did herself; and when
+looking for her present abode, the whole family had stayed there for
+three months.  Her brother Maurice, however, she had scarcely seen, and
+she had been much pained at being included in his persistent avoidance
+of the whole family, who felt that he resented their displeasure at his
+marriage even more since his wife's death than he had done during her
+lifetime, as if he felt doubly bound, for her sake, not to forgive and
+forget.  At least so said some of the family, while others hoped that
+his distaste to all intercourse with them only arose from the apathy
+succeeding a great blow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+GOOD-BYE
+
+
+
+A passage was offered to Mr. Mohun in a Queen's ship, and this hurried
+the preparations so much that to Dolores it appeared that there was
+nothing but bustle and confusion, from the day of her conversation with
+Maude, until she found herself in the railway carriage returning from
+Plymouth with her eldest uncle.  Her father had intended to take her
+himself to Silverfold; but detentions at the office in London, and then
+a telegram from Plymouth, had disconcerted his plans, and when he found
+that his eldest brother would come and meet him at the last, he was
+glad to yield to his little daughter's earnest desire to be with him as
+long as possible.
+
+Shy and reserved as both were, and almost incapable of finding
+expression for their feelings, they still clung closely together,
+though the only tears the girl was seen to shed came in church on the
+last Sunday evening, blinding and choking, and she could barely
+restrain her sobs.  Her father would have taken her out, but she
+resisted, and leant against him, while he put his arm round her.  After
+this, whenever it was possible, she crept up to him, and he held her
+close.
+
+There had been no further discussion on her home. Lady Merrifield had
+written kindly to her, as well as to her father, but that was small
+consolation to one so well instructed by story books in the hypocrisy
+of aunts until fathers were at a distance. And her father was so
+manifestly gratified by the letter, that it would be of no use to say a
+word to him now. Her fate was determined, and, as she heroically told
+Maude in their last interview, she was determined to make the best of
+it. She would endure the unjust aunt, and jealous, silly cousins, and
+be so clever, and wise, and superior, that she would force them to
+admire and respect her, and by-and-by follow her example, and be good
+and sensible, so that when father came home, he would find them
+acknowledging that they owed everything to her; she had saved two or
+three of their lives, nursed half of them when the other half were
+helpless, fainting, and hysterical, and, in short, been the Providence
+of the household. Then father would look at her, and say, 'My Mary
+again!' and he would take her home, and talk to her with the free
+confidence he had shown her mother, and would be comforted.
+
+This was the hope that had carried her through the last parting, when
+she went on board with her uncle and saw her father's cabin, and looked
+with a dull kind of entertainment at all the curious arrangements of
+the big ship. It seemed more like sight-seeing than good-bye, when at
+last they were sent on shore, and hurried up to the station just in
+time for the train.
+
+Uncle William was a very unapproachable person. He did not profess to
+understand little girls. He looked at Dolores rather anxiously, afraid,
+perhaps, that she was crying, and put her into the carriage, then
+rushed out and brought back a handful of newspapers, giving her the
+Graphic, and hiding himself in the Times.
+
+She felt too dull and stunned to read, or to look at the pictures,
+though she held the paper in her hands, and she gazed out dreamily at
+the Ton's and rocks and woody ravines of Dartmoor as they flew past
+her, the leaves and ferns all golden brown with autumn colouring. She
+had had little sleep that night; her little legs had all the morning
+been keeping up with the two men's hasty steps, and though an excellent
+meal had been set before her in the ship, she had not been able to
+swallow much, and she was a good deal worn out. So when at last they
+reached Exeter, and finding there would be two hours to wait, her uncle
+asked whether she would come down into the town with him and see the
+Cathedral, she much preferred to stay where she was. He put her under
+the care of the woman in the waiting-room, who gave her some tea, took
+off her hat, and made her lie down on a couch, where she slept quite
+sound for more than an hour, until she was roused by some ladies coming
+in with a crying baby.
+
+It was, she thought, nearly time to go on, for the gas was being
+lighted. She put on her hat, and went out to look for her uncle on the
+platform, so as to get into a better light to see the face of her
+mother's little Swiss watch, which her father had just made over to
+her. She had just made out that there was not more than a quarter of an
+hour to spare, when she heard an exclamation.
+
+'By Jove! if that ain't Mary's little girl!' and, looking up she saw
+Mr. Flinders' huge, bushy, light-coloured beard. 'Is your father here?'
+he asked.
+
+'No; he sailed this afternoon.'
+
+'Always my luck!  Ticket wasted!  Sailed--really?'
+
+'Oh yes.  We did not come back till the ship was out of harbour.'
+
+He muttered some exclamation, and asked--
+
+'Whom are you with?'
+
+'Uncle William.  Mr. Mohun--my eldest uncle.  He will be back
+directly.'
+
+Mr. Flinders whistled a note of discontent.
+
+'Going to rusticate with him, poor little mite?' he asked.
+
+'No. I'm to live with my Aunt Lilias--Lady Merrifield.'
+
+'Where?'
+
+'At Silverfold Grange, near Silverfold.'
+
+'Well, you'll get among the swells.  They'll make you cut all your poor
+mother's connections.  So there's an end of it.  She was a good
+creature--she was!'
+
+'I'll never forget any one that belongs to her,' said Dolores.  'Oh,
+there's Uncle William!' as on the top of the stairs she spied the
+welcome sight of his grey locks and burly figure.  Before he had
+descended, her other uncle had vanished, and she fancied she had heard
+something about, 'Mum about our meeting.  Ta ta!'
+
+Uncle William's eyes being less sharp than hers, he was on his way to
+the waiting-room before she joined him, and as he had not seen her
+encounter, she would not tell him. They were settled in the carriage
+again, and she was tolerably refreshed. Mr. Mohun fell asleep, and she,
+after reading by the lamp-light as long as she could find anything to
+read, gazed at the odd reflections in the windows till she, too, nodded
+and dozed, half waking at every station.
+
+At last, she was aware of a stop in earnest, voices, and being called.
+There was her uncle saying, 'Well, Hal, here we are!' and she was
+lifted out and set on the platform, with gas all round. Her uncle was
+saying, 'We didn't get away in time for the express,' and a young man
+was answering, 'We'd better put Dolly into the waggonette at once.
+Then I'll see to the luggage.'
+
+Very like a parcel, so stiff were her legs, she was bundled into the
+dark cavern of a closed waggonette, and, after a little lumbering, her
+uncle and the young man got in after her, saying something about eleven
+o'clock.
+
+She was more awake now, and knew that they were driving through lighted
+streets, and then, after an interval, turned into darkness, upon
+gravel, and stopped at last before a door full of light, with figures
+standing up dark in it.  She heard a 'Well, William!' 'Well Lily, here
+we are at last!' Then there were arms embracing her, and a kiss on each
+cheek, as a soft voice said, 'My poor little girl!  They wanted to sit
+up for you, but it was too late, and I dare say you had rather be
+quiet.'
+
+She was led into a lamp-lit room, which dazzled her.  It was spread
+with food, but she was too much tired to eat, and her aunt saw how it
+was, and telling Harry to take care of his uncle, she took the hand--
+though it did not close on hers--and, climbing up what seemed to
+Dolores an endless number of stairs, she said--
+
+'You are up high, my dear; but I thought you would like a room to
+yourself.'
+
+'Poked away in an attic,' was Dolores's dreamy thought; while her aunt
+added, to a tall, thin woman, who came out with a lamp in her hand--
+
+'She is so tired that she had better go to bed directly, Mrs.
+Halfpenny.  You will make her comfortable, and don't let her be
+disturbed in the morning till she has had her sleep out.'
+
+Dolly found herself undressed, without many words, till it came to--
+'Your prayers, Miss Dora.  I am sure you've need not to miss them.'
+
+She did not like to be told, besides, poor child, prayers were not much
+more than a form to her.  She did not contest the point, but knelt down
+and muttered something, then laid her weary head on the pillow, was
+tucked up by Mrs. Halfpenny, and left in the dark.  It was a dreary
+half sleep into which she fell.  The noise of the train seemed to be
+still in her ears, and at the same time she was always being driven up
+--up--up endless stairs, by tall, cruel aunts; or they were shutting her
+up to do all their children's work, and keeping away father's letters
+from her.  Then she awoke and told herself it was a dream, but she
+missed the noises of the street, and the patch of light on the wall
+from the gas lamps, and recollected that father was gone, and she was
+really in the power of one of these cruel aunts; and she felt like
+screaming, only then she might have been heard; and a great horrid
+clock went on making a noise like a church bell, and striking so many
+odd quarters that there was no guessing when morning was coming.  And
+after all, why should she wish it to come?  Oh, if she could but sleep
+the three years while father was away!
+
+At last, however, she fell into a really calm sleep, and when she
+awoke, the room was full of light, but her watch had stopped; she had
+been too much tired to remember to wind it; and she lay a little while
+hearing sounds that made it clear that the world was astir, and she
+could see that preparations had been made for her getting up.
+
+'They shan't begin by scolding me for being late,' she thought, and she
+began her toilette.
+
+Just as she came to her hair, the old nurse knocked and asked whether
+she wanted help.
+
+'Thank you, I've been used to dress myself,' said Dolores, rather
+proudly.
+
+'I'll help you now, missy, for prayers are over, and they are all gone
+to breakfast, only my lady said you were not to be disturbed, and Miss
+Mysie will be up presently again to bring you down.'
+
+She spoke low, and in an accent that Dolores afterwards learnt was
+Scotch; and she was a tall, thin, bony woman, with sandy hair, who
+looked as if she had never been young.  She brushed and plaited the
+dark hair in a manner that seemed to the owner more wearisome and less
+tender than Caroline's fashion; and did not talk more than to inquire
+into the fashion of wearing it, and to say that Miss Mohun's boxes had
+been sent from London, demanding the keys that they might be unpacked.
+
+'I can do that myself,' said Dolores, who did not like any stranger to
+meddle with her things.
+
+'Ye could tak them oot, nae doubt, but I must sort them.  It's my
+lady's orders,' said Mrs. Halfpenny, with all the determination of the
+sergeant, her husband, and Dolores, with a sense of despair, and a sort
+of expectation that she should be deprived of all her treasures on one
+plea or another, gave up the keys.
+
+Mrs. Halfpenny then observed that the frock which had been worn for the
+last two days on the railway, and evening and morning, needed a better
+brushing and setting to rights than she had had time to give it.  She
+had better take out another. Which box were her frocks in?
+
+Dolores expected her heartless relations to insist on her leaving off
+her mourning, and she knew she ought to struggle and shed tears over
+it; but, to tell the truth, she was a good deal tired of her hot and
+fusty black; and when she had followed Mrs. Halfpenny into a passage
+where the boxes stood uncorded; and the first dress that came to light
+was a pretty fresh-looking holland that had been sent home just before
+the accident, she exclaimed--
+
+'Oh, let me put that on.'
+
+'Bless me, miss, it has blue braid, and you in mourning for your poor
+mamma!'
+
+Dolores stood abashed, but a grey alpaca, which she had always much
+disliked, came out next, and Mrs. Halfpenny decided that with her black
+ribbons that would do, though it turned out to be rather shockingly
+short, and to show a great display of black legs; but as the box
+containing the clothes in present wear had not come to hand, this must
+stand for the present--and besides, a voice was heard, saying, 'Is Dora
+ready?' and a young person darted up, put her arms round her neck, and
+kissed her before she knew what she was about.  'Mamma said I should
+come because I am just your age, thirteen and a half,' she said.  'I'm
+Mysie, though my proper name is Maria Millicent.'
+
+Dolores looked her over.  She was a good deal taller than herself, and
+had rich-looking shining brown hair, dark brown eyes full of merriment,
+and a bright rosy colour, and she danced on her active feet as if she
+were full of perpetual life.  'All happy and not caring,' thought
+Dolores.
+
+'Now don't fash Miss Mohun with your tricks.  She has stood like a
+lamb,' said Mrs. Halfpenny reprovingly.  'There, we'll not keep her to
+find an apron.'
+
+'I don't wear pinafores,' said Mysie, 'but I don't mind pretty aprons
+like this.  'Why, my sisters had them for tennis, before they went out
+to India.  Come along, Dora,' grasping her hand.
+
+'My name isn't Dora,' said the new-comer, as they went down the
+passage.
+
+'No,' said Mysie, in a low voice; 'but mamma told Gill--that's Gillian,
+and me, that we had better not tell anybody, because if the boys heard
+they might tease you so about it; for Wilfred is a tease, and there's
+no stopping him when mamma isn't there. So she said she would call you
+Dora, or Dolly, whichever you liked, and you are not a bit like a
+Dolly.'
+
+'They always called me Dolly,' said Dolores; 'and if I am not to have
+my name, I like that best; but I had rather have my proper name.'
+
+'Oh, very well,' said Mysie; 'it is more out of the way, only it is
+very long.'
+
+By this time they had descended a long narrow flight of uncarpeted
+stairs, 'the back ones,' as Mysie explained, and had reached a slippery
+oak hall with high-backed chairs, and all the odds and ends of a
+family-garden hats, waterproofs, galoshes, bats, rackets, umbrellas,
+etc., ranged round, and a great white cockatoo upon a stand, who
+observed--'Mysie, Cockie wants his breakfast,' as they went by towards
+the door, whence proceeded a hubbub of voices and a clatter of knives
+and jingle of teaspoons and cups, a room that as Mysie threw open the
+door seemed a blaze of sunshine, pouring in at the large window, and
+reflected in the glass and silver.  Yes, and in the bright eyes and
+glossy hair of the party who sat round the breakfast-table, further
+brightened by the fire, pleasant in the early autumn.
+
+Eyes, as it seemed to Dolores, eyes without number were levelled on
+her, as Mysie led her in, saying--
+
+'Here's a place by mamma; she kept it for you, between her and Uncle
+William.'
+
+'No, don't all jump up at once and rush at her,' said Lady Merrifield.
+'Give her a little time.  Here, my dear;' and she held out her hand and
+drew in the stranger to her, kissing her kindly, and placing her in a
+chair close to herself, as she presided over the teacups--not at the
+end, but at the middle of the table--while all that could be desired to
+eat and drink found its way at once to Dolores, who had arrived at
+being hungry now, and was glad to have the employment for hands and
+eyes, instead of feeling herself gazed at.  She was not so much
+occupied, however, as not to perceive that Uncle William's voice had a
+free, merry ring in it, such as she had never heard in his visits to
+her father, and that there was a great deal of fun and laughter going
+on over the thin sheets of an Indian letter, which Aunt Lily was
+reading aloud.
+
+No one seemed to be attending to anything else, when Dolores ventured
+to cast a glance around and endeavour to count heads as she sat between
+her uncle and aunt.  Two boys and a girl were opposite.  Harry, who had
+come to meet them last night, was at one end of the table, a tall girl,
+but still a schoolroom girl, was at the other, and Mysie had been lost
+sights of on her own side of the table; also there was a very tiny girl
+on a high chair on the other side of her mamma.  'Seven,' thought
+Dolores with sinking heart.  'Eight oppressors!'
+
+They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures.  One boy, at the
+further corner, had a cast in his eye, and was thin and wizen-looking,
+and when he saw her eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got
+rid of like a flash of lightning  before any one else could see it, but
+her heart sank all the more for it.  He must be Wilfred, the teaser.
+
+Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in some kind of soft
+grey, with a little carnation colour at her throat, and a pretty lace
+cap on her still rich, abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search
+could only detect a very few white threads.  Her complexion was always
+of a soft, paly, brunette tint, and though her cheeks showed signs that
+she was not young, her dark, soft, long-lashed eyes and sweet-looking
+lips made her face full of life and freshness; and the figure and long
+slender hands had the kind of grace that some people call willowy, but
+which is perhaps more like the general air of a young birch tree, or,
+as Hal had once said, 'Early pointed architecture reminded him of his
+mother.'
+
+The little one was getting restless, and two of the boys began
+filliping crumbs at one another.
+
+'Wilfred! Fergus!' said the mother quite low and gently; but they
+stopped directly.  'We will say grace,' she said, lifting the little
+one down.  'Now, Primrose.'
+
+Every one stood up, to Dolores' surprise, a pair of little fat hands
+were put together, a little clear voice said a few words of
+thanksgiving perfectly pronounced.
+
+'You may go, if you like,' she said.  'Hal, take care of Prim.'
+
+Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who took the hand of
+little Primrose, a beautiful little maiden with rich chestnut wavy
+curls.  They all paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the
+girls a little curtsey.  Primrose's was as pretty a little 'bob' as
+ever was seen.
+
+'I am glad you keep that custom up,' said Mr. Mohun.
+
+'Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it to be the habit among
+us; and I find it a great protection against bouncing and rudeness.'
+
+But Dolly's blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, military nonsense.
+She would never give in to it, if they made her live on bread and
+water!
+
+The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened out their breakfast from
+politeness to her, had finished when she had, and the pony-chaise came
+to the door, in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the station.
+Everybody flocked to the door to bid him good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias
+stooped down to ask Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite
+well, Mysie standing anxiously by as if she felt her a great charge.
+
+'Quite well, quite rested, thank you,' the girl answered in her stiff,
+shy way.
+
+'There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent comes.  The
+children generally spend it in feeding the creatures.  I am not going
+to give a holiday, because I think people get more pleasantly
+acquainted over something, than over nothing, to do, but you need not
+begin lessons to-day if you had rather settle your thoughts and write
+your letters.'
+
+'I had rather begin at once,' said Dolores, who thought she would now
+establish her pre-eminence at the cost of any amount of jealousy.
+
+'Very well, then, when you hear the gong--'
+
+'Mamma,' said Mysie solemnly, after long waiting, 'she says she had
+rather not be called out of her name.'
+
+'I thought you had been called Dolly, my dear.'
+
+'Yes, at home,' with a strong emphasis.
+
+'Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to keep to your proper name
+at once.  We won't take liberties with it, till you feel as if you
+could call this home,' said Lady Merrifield, looking as if she would
+have kissed her niece on the slightest encouragement, but no one ever
+looked less kissable than Dolores Mohun at that moment.  Was it not
+cruel and hypocritical to talk of this tiresome multitude as ever
+making home?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+TURNED IN AMONG THEM
+
+
+
+'Do you like pets?' asked Mysie eagerly, as her mother left the two
+girls together.
+
+'I never had any,' said Dolores.
+
+'Oh how dreadful!  Why, old Cockie, and Aga and Begum, the two oldest
+pussies, have been everywhere with us.  And, besides, there's Basto,
+the big Pyrenean dog, and,--oh, here comes little Quiz, mamma's little
+Maltese--Quiz, Quiz.'
+
+Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or cats; and the little
+spun-glass looking dog smelt about her.
+
+'I must go and feed my guinea-pig,' said Mysie; 'won't you come?  Here
+are some over shoes and Poncho.'
+
+Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but it turned out to be a
+sort of cape, and she discovered that all the cloaks and most of the
+sticks had names of their own.  She was afraid to be left standing on
+the steps alone lest any amount of animals or boys should fall on her
+there, so she consented to accompany Mysie, who shuffled along in a
+pair of overshoes vastly too big for her, since she had put her cousin
+into the well-fitting ones.  She chattered all the way.
+
+'We do like this place so.  It is the nicest we have ever been in.  All
+that is wanting is that papa will buy it, and then we shall never go
+away again.'
+
+It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a homely-looking, roomy,
+red-brick house, covered with creepers--the Virginian one with its
+leaves just beginning to be painted.  There was a bright sunny garden
+full of flowers in front, and then a paddock, with cows belonging to a
+farmer, Mysie said.  It was her ambition to have them of their own
+'when papa came home,' when all good things were to happen.  Behind
+there were large stable-yards and offices, too large for Lady
+Merrifield's one horse and one pony, and thus available for the
+children's menagerie of rabbits, guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like.  On
+the way Mysie was only too happy to explain the family as she called
+it, when she had recovered from her astonishment that Dolores, always
+living in England, could not 'count up her cousins.'  'Why they always
+had been shown their photographs on a Sunday evening after the Bible
+pictures, and even little Primrose knew all the likeness, even of those
+she had never seen.'
+
+The catalogue of names and ages followed.
+
+Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, and a sense that one
+Maude was worth all the eight put together with whom she was called on
+to be familiar.  She found herself standing in a court, rather grass-
+grown, where Gillian, with little Primrose by her side, was flinging
+peas to a number of pigeons, grey, white, and brown, who fluttered
+round her.  Valetta and Fergus were on the granary steps, throwing meal
+and sop mixed together to a host of cackling, struggling fowls, who
+tried to leap over each other's backs.  Wilfred seemed busy at some
+hutches where some rabbits twitched their noses at cabbage leaves.
+Mysie proceeded to minister to some black and rust-coloured guinea-
+pigs, which Dolores thought very ugly, uninteresting, and odorous.
+
+Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, and cats and kittens
+parading before people's feet, so that Dolores felt as if she had been
+turned into a den of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again
+venturing into the court at 'feeding-time.'  A big bell gathered all
+the children up together into a race to the house.  There was another
+scurry to change shoes and wash hands, and then  Mysie conducted her
+cousin into a large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the ground floor,
+with deep windows, and numerous little, solid-looking deal tables.
+There were Lady Merrifield and a young lady in spectacles, to whom
+Dolores was presented as 'your new pupil,' and every one sat down at
+one of the little tables, on which there were Bibles and Prayer-books.
+
+Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her.  Dolores
+found a table ready for her with the books.  A passage in the New
+Testament was given out and read verse by verse, to the end of the
+subject, which was the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady Merrifield
+gave a short lesson on it, asking questions, and causing references to
+be found, according to a book of notes, she had ready at hand.
+
+'Just like a charity school,' thought Dolores, when she was able to
+glance at the time-table, and saw that two days in the week there was
+Old Testament, two days New, one day Catechism, one day Prayer-book.
+Only half an hour was thus appropriated, but to her mind it was an old-
+fashioned waste of time, and very tiresome.
+
+Then came a ring at the door-bell.  'Mr. Poulter,' she heard, and to
+her amazement, she found that Gillian and Mysie, as well as their
+brothers, had Latin lessons in the dining-room with the curate.  The
+two girls and Fergus only went to him every other day, Wilfred every
+day, as Gillian was learning Greek and mathematics.  What was Dolores
+to do?
+
+'Have you done any Latin, my dear?'  asked her aunt.
+
+'Not yet.  Father wished to be quite convinced that the professor was a
+good scholar,' said Dolores.
+
+'Very well.  We will wait a little,' said Aunt Lilias, and Dolores
+indignantly thought that she was amused.
+
+Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-room, whither her mother
+followed with Primrose's little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano
+to Valetta, and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss
+Vincent examined the new-comer, which she did by giving her some
+questions to answer in writing, and some French and German to translate
+and parse also in writing.
+
+The music was inconvenient to a girl who had always prepared her work
+alone.  She could do the language work easily, but the questions teased
+her.  They seemed to her of no use, and quite out of her beat.  No
+dates, none of the subject she had specially got up.  Why, if Miss
+Vincent did not know that people were not to be expected to answer
+stupid questions about history quite out of their own line, that was
+her fault.
+
+She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top of her pen till her
+aunt came back, and there was a change in occupations all round,
+resulting in her having to read French aloud, which she knew she did
+well; but it was provoking to find that Gillian read quite as well, and
+knew a word at which she had made a shot, and a wrong one.
+
+She heard the observation pass between her aunt and the governess,
+'Languages fair, but she seems to have very little general
+information.'
+
+General information, indeed!  Just as if she who had lived in London,
+gone to lectures, and travelled on the Continent, must not know more
+than these children cast up and down in a soldier's life; and as if her
+Fraulein, with all her diplomas, must not be far superior to a mere
+little daily governess, and a mother!  It was all for the sake of
+depreciating her.
+
+At twelve o'clock, to her further indignation, she found there was to
+be an hour of reading aloud and of needlework-actual plain needlework.
+The three girls were making under-garments for themselves; and on
+Dolores proving to have no work of any sort, her aunt sent Gillian to
+the drawer, and produced a child's pinafore, which she was desired to
+hem.  Each, however, had a quarter of an hour's reading aloud of
+history to do in turn, all from one big book, a history of Rome, and
+there was a map hung up over the black board, where they were in turn
+to point to the places mentioned.  Before Gillian began reading, the
+date, and something about the former lesson was required to be told by
+the children, and it came quite readily, Valetta especially declaring
+that she did love Pyrrhus, which the others seemed to think very bad
+taste.
+
+Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and thought it foolish to
+study anything that did not tell in a Cambridge examination; but she
+supposed they knew no better down there; and when it came to her turn
+to read, she mangled the names so, that Val burst out laughing when she
+spoke of A-pious-Claudius.  Lady Merrifield hushed this at once, and
+the girl read in a bewildered manner, and as one affronted.  She saw he
+aunt looking at her piece of hemming, which, to say the truth, would
+not have done credit to Primrose, and the recollection came across her
+of all the oppressed orphans who had been made household drudges, so
+that her reading did not become more intelligible.  As the clock struck
+one, a warning gong was heard; everybody jumped up, the work was folded
+away, and with the obeisance at the door, Gillian and Val ran away.
+
+Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to tidy the room; and
+Lady Merrifield said to Dolores--
+
+'I must teach you how to hold your needle tomorrow, my dear.'
+
+'I hate work,' responded Dolores.
+
+'Val does not like it,' said her aunt; 'nor indeed did I at your age;
+but one cannot be an independent woman without being able to take care
+of one's own clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn
+better than I did.  Do you like a take a run with Mysie before dinner?
+Or there is the amusing shelf.  Books may be taken out after one
+o'clock, and they must be put back at eight, or they are confiscated
+for the ensuing day,' she added, pointing to a paper below where this
+sentence was written.
+
+Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to make friends with
+the books than with the cousins.  There were fewer than she expected,
+and nothing like so many absolute stories as she was used to reading
+with Maude Sefton.
+
+'Those are such grown-up books,' she said to Mysie, who came to assist
+her choice, and pointed to the upper shelves.
+
+'Oh, but grown-up books are nicest!' returned Mysie; 'at least, when
+they don't begin being stupid and marrying too soon.  They must do it
+at last to get out of the story, and it's nicer than dying, but they
+can have lots of nice adventures first.  But here are the 'Feats on the
+Fiords' and the 'Crofton Boys' and 'Water Babies,' and all the volumes
+of 'Aunt Judy,' if you like the younger sort.  Or the dear, dear 'Thorn
+Fortress;' that's good for young and old.'
+
+'Haven't you any books of your own?'
+
+'Oh yes; this 'Thorn Fortress' is Val's, and 'A York and a Lancaster
+Rose' is mine, but whenever any one gives us a book, if it is not a
+weeny little gem like Gill's 'Christian Year,' or my 'Little Pillow,'
+or Val's 'Children in the Wood,' we bring it to mother, and if it is
+nice, we keep it here, for every one  to read.  If it is just rather
+silly, and stupid, we may read it once, and then she keeps it; and if
+it is very silly indeed, she puts it out of the way.'
+
+Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal.
+
+'Have you got many books?'
+
+'Yes; but I don't mean to have them knocked about by all the boys, nor
+put out of the way neither.'
+
+'Mamma said we were to be all like sisters,' said Mysie, with rather a
+craving for the new books; but Dolores tossed up her head and said--
+
+'We can't be.  It's nonsense to say so.'
+
+To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady Merrifield, who was looking
+at some exercises that Miss Vincent had laid before her.
+
+'Mamma,' she said, 'is it fair that Dolores should read our books, if
+she won't give you up hers to look over, and be like ours?'
+
+'Mysie,' said Lady Merrifield, 'you can't expect Dolores to like all
+our home plans till she is used to them.  No, my dear, you need not be
+afraid; you shall keep your books in your own room, and nobody shall
+meddle with them.  I am sure your cousins would not wish to be so
+unkind as to deprive you of the use of theirs.'
+
+By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take 'Tom Brown,' it was
+time for the general flight to prepare for dinner, and she found her
+room made to look very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her books and
+little knickknacks had been put out, not quite as she preferred, but
+still so as to make the place seem like her own.  She was pleased
+enough to be quite gracious to Mysie and Val who came to visit her, and
+to offer to let them read any of her books; when they both thanked her
+and said--
+
+'If mamma lets us.'
+
+'Oh, then you won't have them,' said Dolores; 'I'm not going to let her
+have my books to take away.'
+
+'You don't think she would take them away, when she said she wouldn't?'
+said Mysie, hotly.
+
+'Why, what would she do if she didn't happen to approve of them?'
+
+'Only tell us not to read them.'
+
+'And wouldn't you?'
+
+'Why, Dolores!' in such a tone as made her ashamed of her question; and
+she said, 'Well, father never makes any fuss about what I read.  He has
+other things to think of.'
+
+'How do you get books, then?'
+
+'I buy them.  And Maude Sefton, she's my great friend, has lots given
+to her, but nobody bothers about reading them.  They aren't grown-up
+books, you know.'
+
+'How stupid,' said Val.  'You had better read the 'Talisman,' and then
+you'll see how nice a grown-up book is.'
+
+'The 'Talisman!'  Why,  Maude Sefton's brother had to get it up for his
+holiday task, and he said it was all rot and bosh.'
+
+'What a horridly stupid boy he must be,' returned Mysie.  'Why, I
+remember when Jasper once had the 'Talisman' to do, and the big ones
+were so delighted.  Mamma read it out, and I was just old enough to
+listen.  I remembered all about Sir Kenneth and Roswal.'
+
+'Tom Sefton's not stupid!' said Dolores, in wrath; 'but--but the book
+is stupid and out of date!  I heard father and the professor say it was
+gone by.'
+
+Mysie and Valetta looked perfectly astounded, and Dolores pursued her
+advantage.
+
+'Of course it is all very well for you that have never lived in London,
+nor had any advantages.'
+
+'But we have advantages!' cried Val.
+
+'You don't know what advantages are,' said Dolores.
+
+'There's the gong,' cried Mysie, and down they all plunged into the
+dining-room, where the family were again collected, with Hal at one end
+and his mother at the other.
+
+Dolores was amazed when, at the first pause, after every one was help,
+Valetta's voice arose.
+
+'Mamma, what are advantages?'
+
+'Don't you know, Val?'
+
+'Dolores says we haven't any.  And I said we have.  And she says I
+don't know what advantages are.'
+
+Hal and Gillian were both laughing with all their might.  Their mother
+kept her countenance, and said--
+
+'I suppose every one has advantages of some sort, and perhaps without
+knowing them.'
+
+'I'm sure I know,' cried Fergus.
+
+'Well, what are they?' asked Harry.
+
+'Having mamma!' cried the little boy.
+
+'Hear, hear!  That's right, Fergy man!  Couldn't be better!' cried
+Harry, and there was a general acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie
+with the fear that her motherless cousin might feel the contrast, and,
+though against rules, she whispered--
+
+'She will make you like one of us.'
+
+'That wasn't what I meant,' returned Dolores, a little contemptuously.
+
+'What did you mean?' said Mysie.
+
+'Why, you've no classes, nor lectures, nor master, and only just a mere
+daily governess.'
+
+Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her neighbour, but Mysie
+demanded--
+
+'What, do you want to be doing lessons all day long?'
+
+'No, but good governesses never are daily!'
+
+'That's a pity,' said Gillian, turning round on her.  'Perhaps you
+don't know that Miss Vincent has a First Class Cambridge Certificate in
+everything, and is daily, because she likes to live with her mother.'
+
+'I think,' added Lady Merrifield, with a smile, 'that Dolores has been
+in the way of seeing more clever people, and getting superior teaching
+of some kind, but we will do the best we can for her, and try not to
+let her miss many advantages.'
+
+Dolores felt a little abashed, and decidedly angry at being put in the
+wrong.
+
+The elders kindly turned away the general attention from her.  There
+was a great deal of merry family fun going on, which was quite like a
+new language to her.  Fergus and Primrose wanted to go out in search of
+blackberries.  Gillian undertook to drive them in the cart, but as the
+donkey had once or twice refused to cross a little stream of water that
+traversed the road, the brothers foretold that she would ignominiously
+come back again.
+
+'Gill and water are perilous!' observed Hal.
+
+'Jack's not here,' said Gillian;  'besides, it is down, not up the
+hill, and I'm sure I don't want to draw a pail of water.'
+
+'No--Sancho will do that.'
+
+'The gong will sound and sound, buzz and roar,' said Wilfred.  'No
+Gill!  no little ones!  We shall send out and find them stuck fast in
+the lane, Sancho with his feet spread out wide, Gill with three or four
+sticks lying broken on the road round her, the kids reduced to eating
+blackberries like the children in the wood.'
+
+'Don't Fred,' said Gillian.  'You'll frighten them.'
+
+'Little donkeys!' said Wilfred.
+
+'If they were, we shouldn't want Sancho,' said Val.
+
+It was not a very sublime bit of wit, but there was a great laugh at it
+all round the table.  Val and Fergus declared they would go too, till
+they heard that Nurse Halfpenny said she would not let the little ones
+go out without her to tear their clothes to pieces.
+
+Every one unanimously declared that would be no fun at all, and turned
+to mamma to beg her to forbid nurse to come out and spoil everything.
+
+'That's just her view,' said mamma, laughing;  'she thinks you spoil
+everything.'
+
+'Oh, that's clothes!  Spoiling fun is worse.'
+
+'But were you really going with the old Halfpenny, Gill?' said Mysie,
+turning to her.
+
+'Yes,' said Gillian.  'You know I can manage her pretty well when it is
+only the little ones and they wouldn't have any pleasure otherwise.'
+
+'Oh come, Gill,' intreated Fergus, 'or nurse will make us sit in the
+donkey-cart all the time while Lois picks the blackberries!'
+
+'Mamma, do tell her not to come,' intreated Valetta, and more of them
+joined in with her.
+
+'No, my dears, I don't like to vex her when she thinks she is doing her
+duty.'
+
+'She wouldn't come if you did, mamma,' and there was a general outcry
+of intreaty that mamma would come with them, and defend them from Mrs.
+Halfpenny, as Fergus, who was rather a formal little fellow, expressed
+it, and mamma, after a little consideration, consented to drive the
+pony-carriage in that direction, and to announce to Nurse Halfpenny
+that she herself would take charge of the children.  Whereupon there
+was a whoop and a war-dance of jubilee, quite overwhelming to Dolores,
+who could not but privately ask Mysie if Nurse Halfpenny was so very
+cross.
+
+'Awfully,' said Mysie, and Wilfred added--
+
+'As savage as a bear with a sore head.'
+
+'Like Mrs. Crabtree?' asked Dolores.
+
+'Exactly.  Jasper called her so when he wanted to lash her up, till at
+lash she got hold of his 'Holiday House' and threw it into the sea, and
+it was in Malta and we couldn't get another,' said Mysie.
+
+'And haven't you one?'
+
+'Yes, Gill and I save for it; but mamma only let us have it on
+condition we made a solemn promise never to tease nurse about it.'
+
+'And does she go at you with that dreadful thing--what's it name--the
+tawse?'
+
+'Ah! you'll soon know,' said Wilfred.
+
+'No, no; nonsense, Fred,' said Mysie, as Dolores' face worked with
+consternation.  'She never hits us, not if we are ever so tiresome.
+Papa and mamma would not let her.'
+
+'But why do they let her be so dreadful?  Maude's nurse used to be
+horrid and slap her, and when her mother found it out the woman was
+sent away directly.'
+
+Nurse Halfpenny isn't that sort,' said Mysie.  'Her husband was papa's
+colour-sergeant, and he got a sun-stroke and died, and then she came
+when Gillian was just born, and so weak and tiny that she would never
+have lived if nurse hadn't watched her day and night, and so Gillian's
+her favourite, except the youngest, and she is ever so good, you know.
+I've heard the ladies, when we were with the dear old 111th, telling
+mamma how they envied her her trustworthy treasure.'
+
+'I'm sure they might have had her at half-price,' said Wilfred.  'She's
+be dear at a farthing!'
+
+At that moment Mrs. Halfpenny's voice was heard demanding if it were
+really her ladyship's pleasure to go out, fatiguing herself to the very
+death with all the children rampaging about her and tearing themselves
+to pieces, if not poisoning themselves with all sorts of nasty berries.
+
+'Indeed I'll take care of them and bring them back safe to you,'
+responded her ladyship, very much in the tone of one of her own
+children making promises.  'Put them on their brown hollands and they
+can't come to much harm.'
+
+'Well, if it's your wish, ma'am, my leddy; what must be, must, but I
+know how it will be--you'll come back tired out, fit to drop, and Miss
+Val and Miss Primrose won't have a rag fit to be seen on them.  But if
+it's your will, what must be must, for you're no better than a bairn
+yourself, general's lady though you be, and G.C.B.'
+
+'No, nurse, you'll be G.C.B.--Grand Commander of the Bath--when we come
+home,' called out Hall, who was leaning on the banister at the bottom,
+and there was a general laugh, during which Dolly tardily climbed the
+stairs, so tardily that her aunt, meeting her, asked whether she was
+still tired, and if she would rather have the afternoon to arrange her
+room.
+
+She said 'yes,' but not 'thank you,' and went on, relieved that Mysie
+did not offer to stay and help her, and yet rather offended at being
+left alone, while all the others went their own way. She heard them
+pattering and clattering, shouting and calling up and down the
+passages, and then came a great silence, while they could be seen going
+down the drive, some on foot, some in the pony-chaise or donkey-cart.
+
+Her things had all been unpacked and put in order, and her room had a
+very cheerful window.  It was prettily furnished with fresh pink and
+white dimity, and choice-looking earthenware, but to London eyes like
+those of Dolores it seemed very old-fashioned and what she called
+'poked up.'  The paper was ugly,  the chimney-piece was a narrow,
+painting thing, of the same dull, stone-colour as the door and the
+window-frame.  And then the clear air, the perfect stillness, the
+absence of anything  moving in the view from the window gave the city-
+bred child a sense of dreadful loneliness and dreariness as she sat on
+the side of her bed, with one foot under her, gazing dolefully round
+her, and in he head composing her own memoirs.
+
+'Fully occupied with their own plans and amusements, the lonely orphan
+was left in solitude.  Her aunt knew not how her heart ached after the
+home she had left, but the machine of the family went its own way and
+trod her under its wheels.'
+
+This was such a fine sentence that it was almost a comfort, and she
+thought of writing it to Maude Sefton, but as she got up to fetch her
+writing-case from the schoolroom, she saw that her books were standing
+just in the way she did not like, and with all the volumes mixed up
+together.  So she tumbled them all out of the shelves on the floor, and
+at that moment Mrs. Halfpenny looked into the room.
+
+'Well, to be sure!' she exclaimed, 'when me and Lois have been working
+at them books all the morning.'
+
+'They were all nohow--as I don't like them,' said Dolores.
+
+'Oh, very well, please yourself then, miss, if that's all the thanks
+you have in your pocket, you may put them up your own way, for all I
+care.  Only my lady will have the young ladies' rooms kept neat and
+orderly, or they lose marks for it.'
+
+'I don't want any help,' said Dolores, crossly, and Mrs. Halfpenny shut
+the door with a bang.  'The menials are insulting me,' said Dolores to
+herself, and a tear came to her eye, while all the time there was a
+certain mournful satisfaction in being so entirely the heroine of a
+book.
+
+She went to work upon her books, at first hotly and sharply, and very
+carefully putting the tallest in the centre so as to form a gradual
+ascent with the tops and not for the world letting a second volume
+stand before its elder brother, but she soon got tired, took to peeping
+at one or two parting gifts which she had not yet been able to read,
+and at last got quite absorbed in the sorrows of a certain Clare, whose
+golden hair was cut short by her wicked aunt, because it outshone her
+cousin's sandy locks.  There was reason to think that a tress of this
+same golden hair would lead to her recognition by some grandfather of
+unknown magnificence, as exactly like that of his long-lost Claribel,
+and this might result in her assuming splendours that would annihilate
+the aunt.  Things seemed tending to a fracture of the ice under the
+cruellest cousin of all, and her rescue by Clare, when they would be
+carried senseless into the great house, and the recognition of Clare
+and the discomfiture of her foes would take place.  How could Dolores
+shut the book at such a critical moment!
+
+So there she was sitting in the midst of her scattered books, when the
+galloping and scampering began again, and Mysie knocked at the door to
+tell her there were pears, apples, biscuits, and milk in the dining-
+room, and that after consuming them, lessons had to be learnt for the
+next day, and then would follow amusements, evening toilette, seven
+o'clock tea, and either games or reading aloud till bedtime.  As to the
+books, Mysie stood aghast.
+
+'I thought nurse and Lois had done them all for you.'
+
+'They did them all wrong, so I took them down.'
+
+Oh, dear! We must put them in, or there'll be a report.'
+
+'A report!'
+
+'Yes, Nurse Halfpenny reports us whenever she doesn't find our rooms
+tidy, and then we get a bad mark.  Perhaps mamma wouldn't give you one
+this first day, but it is best to make sure.  Shall I help you, or you
+won't have time to eat any pears?'
+
+Dolores was thankful for help, and the books were scrambled in anyhow
+on the shelves; for Mysie's good nature was endangering her share of
+the afternoon's gouter, though perhaps it consoled her that her
+curiosity was gratified by a hasty glance at the backs of her cousin's
+story-books.
+
+By the time the two girls got down to the dining-table, every one had
+left the room, and there only remained one doubtful pear, and three
+baked apples, besides the loaf and the jug of milk.  Mysie explained
+that not being a regular meal, no one was obliged to come punctually to
+it, or to come at all, but these who came tardily might fare the worse.
+As to the blackberries, for which Dolores inquired, the girls were
+going to make jam of them themselves the next day; but Mysie added,
+with an effort, she would fetch some, as her cousin had had none in the
+gathering.
+
+'Oh no, thank you; I hate blackberries,' said Dolores, helping herself
+to an apple.
+
+'Do you?' said Mysie, blankly.  'We don't.  They are such fun.  You
+can't think how delicious the great overhanging clusters are in the
+lane.  Some was up so high that Hal had to stand up in the cart to
+reach them, and to take Fergus up on his shoulder.  We never had such a
+blackberrying as with mamma and Hal to help us.  And only think, a
+great carriage came by, with some very grand people in it; we think it
+was the Dean; and they looked down the lane and stared, so surprised to
+see what great mind to call out, 'Fee, faw, fum.'  You know nothing
+makes such a good giant as Fergus standing on Hal's shoulders, and a
+curtain over them to hide Hal's face. Oh dear, I wish I hadn't told
+you!  You would have been a new person to show it to.'
+
+Dolores made very little answer, finished her apple, and followed to
+the schoolroom, where an irregular verb, some geography, and some dates
+awaited her.
+
+Then followed another rush of the populace for the evening meal of the
+live stock, but in this Dolores was too wary to share.  She made her
+way up to her retreat again, and tried to lose the sense of her trouble
+and loneliness in a book.  Then came the warning bell, and a prodigious
+scuffling, racing and chasing, accompanied by yells as of terror and
+roars as of victory, all cut short by the growls of Mrs. Halfpenny.
+Everything then subsided.  The world was dressing; Dolores dressed too,
+feeling hurt and forlorn at no one's coming to help her, and yet
+worried when Mysie arrived with orders from Mrs. Halfpenny to come to
+her to have her sash tied.
+
+'I think a servant ought to come to me.  Caroline always does,' said
+the only daughter with dignity.
+
+'She can't, for she is putting Primrose to bed.  Oh, it's so delicious
+to see Prim in her bath,' said Mysie, with a little skip.  'Make haste,
+or we shall miss her, the darling.'
+
+Dolores did not feel pressed to behold the spectacle, and not being in
+the habit of dressing without assistance, she was tardy, and Mysie
+fidgeted about and nearly distracted her.  Thus, when she reached the
+nursery, Primrose was already in her little white bed-gown, and was
+being incited by Valetta to caper about on her cot, like a little
+acrobat, as her sisters said, while Mrs. Halfpenny declared that 'they
+were making the child that rampageous, she should not get her to sleep
+till midnight.'
+
+They would have been turned out much sooner, and Primrose hushed into
+silence, if nurse's soul had not been horrified by the state of
+Dolores' hair and the general set of her garments.
+
+'My certie!' she exclaimed--a dreadful exclamation in the eyes of the
+family, who knew it implied that in all her experience Mrs. Halfpenny
+had never known the like!  And taking Dolores by the hand, she led the
+wrathful and indignant girl back into her bedroom, untied and tied,
+unbuttoned and buttoned, brushed and combed in spite of the second bell
+ringing, the general scamper, and the sudden apparition of Mysie and
+Val, whom she bade run away and tell her leddyship that 'Miss Mohoone
+should come as soon as she was sorted, but she ought to come up early
+to have her hair looked to, for 'twas shame to see how thae fine London
+servants sorted a motherless bairn.'
+
+Dolores felt herself insulted; she turned red all over, with feelings
+the old Scotchwoman could not understand.  She expected to hear the
+message roared out to the whole assembly round the tea-table, but Mysie
+had discretion enough to withhold her sister from making it public.
+
+The tea itself, though partaken of by Lady Merrifield, seemed an
+indignity to the young lady accustomed to late dinners.  After it, the
+whole family played at 'dumb crambo.'  Dolores was invited to join, and
+instructed to 'do the thing you think it is;' but she was entirely
+unused to social games, and thought it only ridiculous and stupid when
+the word being a rhyme to ite, Fergus gave rather too real a blow to
+Wilfred, and Gillian answered, ''Tis not smite;'  Wilfred held out a
+hand, and was told, ''Tis not right;' Val flourished in the air as if
+holding a string, and was informed that 'kite' was wrong; when Hal ran
+away as if pursued by Fergus by way of flight; and Mysie performed
+antics which she was finally obliged to explain were those of a sprite.
+Dolores could not recollect anything, and only felt annoyed at being
+made to feel stupid by such nonsense, when Mysie tried to make her a
+present of a suggestion by pointing to the back of a letter.  Neither
+write nor white would come into her head, though little Fergus
+signalized himself, just before he was swept off to bed, by seizing a
+pen and making strokes!
+
+After his departure, Lady Merrifield read aloud 'The Old oak
+Staircase,' which had been kept to begin when Dolores came, Hal taking
+the book in turn with his mother.  And so ended Dolores' first day of
+banishment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE FIRST WALK
+
+
+
+'What a lot of letters for you, mamma!' cried Mysie.
+
+'Papa!' exclaimed Fergus and Primrose.
+
+'No, it is not the right day, my dears.  But here is a letter from Aunt
+Ada.'
+
+'Oh!' in a different tone.
+
+'She writes for Aunt Jane.  They will come down here next Monday
+because Aunt Jane is wanted to address the girls at the G.F.S. festival
+on Tuesday.'
+
+'Aunt Jane seems to have taken to public speaking,' said Harry.  'It
+would be rather a lark to hear her.'
+
+'You may have a chance,' said Lady Merrifield, 'for here is a note from
+Mrs. Blackburn to ask if I will be so very kind as to let them have the
+festival here.  They had reckoned upon Tillington Park, where they have
+always had it before, but they hear that all the little Tillingtons
+have the measles, and they don't think it safe to venture there.'
+
+'It will be great fun!' said Gillian.  'We will have all sorts of
+games, only I'm afraid they will be much stupider than the Irish
+girls.'
+
+'And ever so much stupider than the dear 111th children,' sighed Mysie.
+
+'Aren't they all great big girls?' asked Valetta, disconsolately.
+
+'I believe twelve years old is the limit,' said her mother.  'Twelve-
+year-old girls have plenty of play in them, Vals, haven't they, Mysie?
+Let me see--two hundred and thirty of them.'
+
+'For you to feast?' asked Harry.
+
+'Oh, no--that cost comes out of their own funds, Mrs. Blackburn takes
+care to tell me, and Miss Hacket will find some one in Siverfold who
+will provide tables and forms and crockery.  I must go down and talk to
+Miss Hacket as soon as lessons are over.  Or perhaps it would save time
+and trouble if I wrote and asked her to come up to luncheon and see the
+capabilities of  the place.  Why, what's the matter?' pausing at the
+blank looks.
+
+'The jam, mamma--the blackberry jam!' cried Valetta.
+
+'Well?'
+
+'We can't do it without Gill, and she will have to be after that Miss
+Constance,' explained Val.
+
+'Oh! never mind.  She won't stay all the afternoon,' said Gillian,
+cheerfully.  'Luncheon people don't.'
+
+'Yes, but then there will be lessons to be learnt.'
+
+'Look here, Val,' said Gillian, 'if you and Mysie will learn your
+lessons for tomorrow while I'm bound to Miss Con., I'll do mine some
+time in the evening, and be free for the jam when she is gone.'
+
+'The dear delicious jam!' cried Val, springing about upon her chair;
+and Lady Merrifield further said--
+
+'I wonder whether Mysie and Dolores would like to take the note down.
+They could bring back a message by word of mouth.'
+
+'Oh, thank you, mamma!' cried Mysie.
+
+'Then I will write the note as soon as we have done breakfast.  Don't
+dawdle, Fergus boy.'
+
+'Mayn't I go?' demanded Wilfred.
+
+'No, my dear.  It is your morning with Mr. Poulter.  And you must take
+care not to come back later than eleven, Mysie dear; I cannot have him
+kept waiting.  Dolores, do you like to go?'
+
+'Yes, please,' said Dolores, partly because it was at any rate gain to
+escape from that charity-school lesson in the morning, and partly
+because Valetta was looking at her in the ardent hope that she would
+refuse the privilege of the walk, and it therefore became valuable; but
+there was so little alacrity in her voice that her aunt asked her
+whether she were quite rested and really liked the walk, which would be
+only half a mile to the outskirts of the town.
+
+Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, and replied that
+she was quite well, and didn't mind.
+
+So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were sent off to get ready,
+while Aunt Lilias wrote her note in pencil at the corner of the table,
+which she never left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their
+meal; but she had to silence a storm at the 'didn't mind'--Gillian even
+venturing to ask how she could send one to whom it was evidently no
+pleasure to go.  'I think she likes it more than she shows,' said the
+mother, 'and she wants air, and will settle to her lessons the better
+for it.  What's that, Val?'
+
+'It was my turn, mamma,' said Valetta, in an injured voice.
+
+'It will be your turn next, Val,' said her mother, cheerfully.
+'Dolores comes between you and Mysie, so she must take her place
+accordingly.  And today we grant her the privilege of the new-comer.'
+
+Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, while she was going
+upstairs to put on her hat, the recollection had not occurred to her of
+one of the victim's of an aunt's cruelty who was always made to run on
+errands while her favoured cousins were at their studies.  Was this the
+beginning?  Somehow, though her better sense knew this was a foolish
+fancy, she had a secret pleasure in pitying herself, and posing to
+herself as a persecuted heroine. And then she was greatly fretted to
+find the housemaid in her room, looking as if no one else had any
+business there.  What was worse, she could not find her jacket.  She
+pulled out all her drawers with fierce, noisy jerks, and then turned
+round on the maid, sharply demanding--
+
+'Who has taken my jacket?'
+
+'I'm sure I don't know, Miss Dollars.  You'd best ask Mrs. Halfpenny.'
+
+'If--' but at that moment Mysie ran in, holding the jacket in her hand.
+'I saw it in the nursery,' she said, triumphantly.  'Nurse had taken it
+to mend!  Come along.  Where's your hat?'
+
+But there was pursuit; Mrs. Halfpenny was at the door.  'Young ladies,
+you are not going out of the policy in that fashion.'
+
+'Mamma sent us.  Mamma wants us to take a note in a hurry.  Only to
+Miss Hacket,' pleaded Mysie, as Mrs. Halfpenny laid violent hands on
+her brown Holland jacket, observing--
+
+'My leddy never bade ye run off mair like a wild worricow than a
+general officer's daughter, Miss Mysie.  What's that?  Only Miss
+Hacket, do you say?  You should respect yourself and them you come of
+mair than to show yourself to a blind beetle in an unbecoming way.
+'Tis well that there's one in the house that knows what is befitting.
+Miss Dollars, you stand still;  I must sort your necktie before you go.
+'Tis all of a wisp.  Miss Mysie, you tell your mamma that I should be
+fain to know her pleasure about Miss Dollars' frocks.  She've scarce
+got one--coloured or mourning--that don't want altering.'
+
+Mrs. Halfpenny always caused Dolores such extreme astonishment and awe
+that she obeyed her instantly, but to be turned about and tidied by an
+authoritative hand was extremely disagreeable to the independent young
+lady.  Caroline had never treated her thus, being more willing to
+permit untidiness than to endure her temper.  She only durst, after the
+pair were released, remonstrate with Mysie on being termed Miss
+Dollars.
+
+'They can't make out your name,' said Mysie.  'I tried to teach Lois,
+but nurse said she had no notion of new-fangled nonsense names.'
+
+'I'm sure Valetta and Primrose are worse.'
+
+'Ah! but Val was born at Malta, and mamma had always loved the Grand
+Master La Valetta so much, and had written verses about him when she
+was only sixteen.  And Primrose was named after the first primrose
+mamma had seen for twelve years--the first one Val and I had ever
+seen.'
+
+'They called me Miss Mohun at home.'
+
+'Yes, but we can't here, because of Aunt Jane.'
+
+All this was chattered forth on the stairs before the two girls reached
+the dining-room, where Mysie committed the feeding of her pets to Val,
+and received the note, with fresh injunctions to come home by eleven,
+and bring word whether Miss Hacket and Miss Constance would both come
+to luncheon.
+
+'Oh dear!' sighed Gillian, and there was a general groan round the
+table.
+
+'It can't be helped, my dear.'
+
+'Oh no, I know it can't,' said Gillian, resignedly.
+
+'You see,' said Mysie.  'Yes, come along, Basto dear.  You see Gill has
+to be--down, Basto, I say!--a young lady when--  Never mind him,
+Dolores, he won't hurt.  When Miss Constance Hacket and--leave her
+alone, Basto, I say!--and she is such a goose.  Not you, Dolores, but
+Miss Constance.'
+
+'Oh that dog!  I wish you would not take him.'
+
+'Not take dear old Basto!  Why 'tis such a treat for him to get a walk
+in the morning--the delight of his jolly old black heart.  Isn't he a
+dear old fellow?  and he never hurt anybody in his life!  It's only
+setting off!  He will quiet  down in a minute; but I couldn't
+disappoint him.  Could I, my old man?'
+
+Never having lived with animals nor entered into their feelings,
+Dolores could not understand how a dog's pleasure could be preferred to
+her comfort, and felt a good deal hurt, though Basto's antics subsided
+as soon as they were past the inner gate shutting in the garden from
+the paddock, which was let out to a farmer.  Mysie, however, ran on as
+usual with her stream of information--
+
+'The Miss Hacket were sister or daughters or something to some old man
+who used to be clergyman here, and they are all married up but these
+two, and they've got the dearest little house you ever saw.  They had a
+nephew in the 111th, and so they came and  called on us at once.  Miss
+Hacket is a regular old dear, but we none of us can bear Miss
+Constance, except that mamma says we ought to be sorry for her because
+she leads such a confined life.  Miss Hacket and Aunt Jane always do go
+on so about the G.F.S.  They both are branch secretaries, you know.'
+
+'I know!  Aunt Jane did bother Mrs. Sefton so that she says she will
+never have another of those G.F.S. girls.  She says it is a society for
+interference.'
+
+'Mamma likes it,' said Mysie.
+
+'Oh! but she is only just come.'
+
+'Yes; but she always looked after the school children at Beechcroft
+before she married, and she and Alethea and Phyllis had the soldiers'
+children up on Sunday.  Alethea taught the little drummer boys, and
+they were so funny.  I wonder who teaches them now!  Gill always goes
+down to help Miss Hacket with her G.F.S. classes.  She has one on
+Sunday afternoon, and one on Tuesday for sewing, and she is the only
+young lady in the place who can do plain needlework properly.'
+
+'Sewing-machines can work.  What the use of fussing about it!'
+
+'They can't mend,' said Mysie.  'Besides, do you know, in the American
+war, all the sewing-machines in the Southern States got out of order,
+and as all the machinery people were in the north, the poor ladies
+didn't know what to do, and couldn't work without them.'
+
+'Sewing-machines are a recent invention,' said Dolores.
+
+'Oh! you didn't think I meant the great old War of Independence.  No, I
+meant the war about the slaves--secession they called it.'
+
+'That is not in the history of England,' said Dolores, as if Mysie had
+no business to look beyond.
+
+'Why! of course not, when it happened in America.  Papa told us about
+it.  He read it in some paper, I think.  Don't you like learning things
+in that way?'
+
+'No.  I don't approve of irregular unsystematic knowledge.'
+
+Dolores has heard her mother say something of this kind, and it came
+into her head most opportunely as a defence of her father--for she
+would not for the world have confessed that he did not talk to her as
+Sir Jasper Merrifield seemed to have done to his children.  In fact she
+rather despised the General for so doing.
+
+'Oh! but it is such fun picking up things out of lesson time!' said
+Mysie.
+
+'That is the Edge--,' Dolores was not sure of the word Edgeworthian, so
+she went on to 'system.  Professor Sefton says he does not approve of
+harassing children with cramming them with irregular information at all
+sorts of times.  Let play be play and lessons be lessons, he says, not
+mixed up together, and so Rex and Maude never learnt anything--not a
+letter--till they were seven years old.'
+
+'How stupid!'  cried Mysie.
+
+'Maude's not stupid!' cried Dolores, 'nor the professor either!  She's
+my great friend.'
+
+'I didn't say she was stupid,' said Mysie, apologetically, 'only that
+it must be very stupid not to be able to read till one was seven.
+Could you?'
+
+'Oh, yes.  I can't remember when I couldn't read.  But Maude used to
+play with a little girl who could read and talk French at five years
+old, and she died of water upon her brain.'
+
+'Dear me!  Primrose can read quite well,' said Mysie, somewhat alarmed;
+'but then,' she went on in a reassured voice, 'so could all of us
+except Jasper and Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibraltar
+that they were quite stupid while they were there.'
+
+This discussion brought the two girls across the paddock out into a
+road with a broad, neat footpath, where numerous little children were
+being exercised with nurses and perambulators.  At first it was
+bordered by fields on either side, but villas soon began to spring up,
+and presently the girls reached what looked like a long, low 'cottage
+residence,' but was really two, with a verandah along the front, and a
+garden divided in the middle by a paling covered with canary
+nasturtium shrubs.  The verandah on one side was hung with a rich
+purple pall of the dark clematis, on the other by a Gloire de Dijon
+rose.  There were bright flower beds, and the dormer windows over the
+verandah looked like smiling eyes under their deep brows of creeper-
+trimmed verge-board.  What London-bred Dolores saw was a sight that
+shocked her--a lady standing unbonnetted just beyond the verandah,
+talking to a girl whose black hat and jacket looked what Mysie called
+'very G.F.S.-y.'
+
+The lady did not turn out to be young or beautiful.  She was near
+middle age, and looked as if she were far too busy to be ever plump;
+she had a very considerable amount of nose and rather thin, dark hair,
+done in a fashion which, like that of her navy blue linen dress, looked
+perfectly antiquated to Dolores.  As she saw the two girls at the gate
+she came down the path eagerly to welcome them.
+
+'Ah! my dear Mysie! so kind of your dear mother!  I thought I should
+hear from her.'  And as she kissed Mysie, she added, 'And this is the
+new cousin.  My dear, I am glad to see you here.'
+
+Dolores thought her own dignified manner had kept off a kiss, not
+knowing that Miss Hacket was far too ladylike to be over-familiar, and
+that there was no need to put on such a forbidding look.
+
+Mysie gave her message and note, but Miss Hacket could not give the
+verbal answer at once till she had consulted her sister.  She was not
+sure whether Constance had not made an engagement to play lawn-tennis,
+so they must come in.
+
+There sounded 'coo-roo-oo coo-roo-oo' in the verandah, and Mysie cried--
+
+'Oh, the dear doves!'
+
+Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them when the G.F.S. girl
+arrived, and as Mysie came to a halt in delight at the aspect of a
+young one that had just crept out into public life, the sister was
+called to the window.  She was a great deal younger and more of the
+present day in style than her sister, and had pensive-looking grey
+eyes, with a somewhat bored languid manner as she shook hands with the
+early visitors.
+
+The sisters had a little consultation over the note, during which
+Dolores studied them, and Mysie studied the doves, longing to see the
+curious process of feeding the young ones.
+
+When Miss Hacket turned back to her with the acceptance of the
+invitation, she thought she might wait just to help Miss Hacket to put
+in the corn and the sop.  Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores.
+
+'Did you arrive yesterday?'
+
+'No, the day before.'
+
+'Ah! it must be a great change to you.'
+
+'Indeed it is.'
+
+'This must be the dullest place in England, I think,' said Miss
+Constance.  'No variety, no advantages of any kind!  And have not you
+lived in London?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'That is my ambition!  I once spent six weeks in London, and it was an
+absolute revelation--the opening of another world.  And I understand
+that Mr. Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that you saw a great
+deal of his friends.'
+
+'I used,' said Dolores, thinking of those days of her mother when she
+was the pet and plaything of the guests, incited to say clever and pert
+things, which then were passed round and embellished till she neither
+knew them nor comprehended them.
+
+'That is what I pine for!' exclaimed Miss Constance.  'Nobody here has
+any ideas.  You can't conceive how borne and prejudiced every one her
+who is used to something better!  Don't you love art needlework?'
+
+'Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey Gander on a toilet-cover.'
+
+'Oh! how sweet!  We never get any new patterns here!  Do come in and
+see, I don't know which to take;  I brought three beginnings home to
+choose from, and I am quite undecided.'
+
+'Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns,' said Dolores.  'Something she
+gets ideas from Lorenzo Dellman--he's an artist, you know, and a
+regular aesthete!  He made her do a dado all sunflowers last year, but
+they are a little gone out now, and are very staring besides, and I
+think she will have some nymphs dancing among almond-trees in blue
+vases instead, as soon as she has designed it.'
+
+'Isn't that lovely!  Oh! what would I not give for such opportunities?
+Do let me have your opinion.'
+
+So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three patterns, one of tall
+daisies; another of odd-looking doves, one on each side of a red
+Etruscan vase, where the water must have been as much out of their
+reach as that in the pitcher was beyond the crow's; and a third, of
+Little Bo Peep.  Having given her opinion in favour of Bo Peep, she was
+taken upstairs to inspect the young lady's store of crewels, and choose
+the colours.
+
+Dolores neither knew nor cared anything about fancy work, but to be
+treated as an authority was quite soothing, and she fully believed that
+the mere glimpses she had had of Mrs. Sefton's work and the shop
+windows, enabled her to give great enlightenment to this poor country
+mouse; so she gladly went to the bedroom, with a muslin-worked toilet-
+cover, embroidered curtains, plates fastened against the wall, and
+table all over knick-knacks, which Miss Constance called her little
+den, where she could study beauty after her own bent, while her sister
+Mary was wholly engrossed with the useful, and could endure nothing but
+the prose of the last century.
+
+Meantime Mysie had forgotten how time flew in her belief that in one
+minute more the young doves would want to be fed, and then in amusement
+at seeing them pursue their parents with low squeaks and flutterings,
+watching, too, the airs and graces, bowing, cooing, and laughing of the
+old ones.  When at last she was startled by hearing eleven struck,
+there had to be a great hunt for Dolores in the drawing-room and
+garden, and when at last Miss Hacket's calls for her sister brought the
+tow downstairs more than ten minutes had passed!  Mysie was too much
+dismayed, and in too great a hurry to do anything but cry, 'Come along,
+Dolores,' and set off at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner,
+even when Mysie recollected that it was too public a place for running,
+and slackened her pace.  Dolores was soon gasping, and with a stitch in
+her side.  Mysie would have exclaimed, 'What were you doing with Miss
+Constance?' but breathlessness happily prevented it.  The way across
+the paddock seemed endless, and Mysie was chafed at having to hold back
+for her companion, who panted in distress, leant against a tree,
+declared she could not go on, she did not care, and then when, Mysie
+set off running, was seized with fright at being left alone in this
+vast unknown space, cried after her and made a rush, soon ending in
+sobbing breath.
+
+At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just coming out of the
+dining-room greeted them with, 'A quarter to twelve.  Won't you catch
+it?  Oh my!'
+
+'Are they come?' said Lady Merrifield, looking out of the schoolroom.
+'My dear children!  Did Miss Hacket keep you?'
+
+'No, mamma,' gasped Mysie.  'At least it was my fault for watching the
+doves.'
+
+'Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message next time.  Mr. Poulter
+has been waiting these twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit
+to take a lesson now.  Dolores looks quite done up!  I shall send you
+both to lie down on your beds and learn your poetry for an hour.  And
+you must write an apology to Mr. Poulter this afternoon.  No, don't go
+in now. Go up at once, Gillian shall bring your books.  Does Miss
+Hacket come?'
+
+'Yes, mamma,' said Mysie humbly, looking at Dolores all the time.  She
+was too generous to say that part of the delay had been caused by
+looking for her cousin, and having to adapt her pace to the slower one,
+but she decidedly expected the avowal from Dolores, and thought it mean
+not to make it.  'And, oh, the jam!' she mourned as she went upstairs.
+While, on the other hand, Dolores considered what she called 'being
+sent to bed' an unmerited and unjust sentence given without a hearing;
+when their tardiness had been all Mysie's fault, not hers.  She had no
+notion that her aunt only sent them to lie down, because they looked
+heated, tired, and spent, and was really letting them off their
+morning's lessons.  It was a pity that she felt too forlorn and sullen
+even to complain when Gillian brought up Macaulay's 'Armada' for her to
+learn the first twelve lines, or she might have come to an
+understanding, but all that was elicited from her was a glum  'No,'
+when asked if she knew it already.  Gillian told her not to keep her
+dusty boots on the bed, and she vouchsafed no answer, for she did not
+consider Gillian her mistress, though, after she was left to herself,
+she found them so tight and hot that she took them off.  Then she
+looked over the verses rather contemptuously--she who always learnt
+German poetry; and she had a great mind to assert her independence by
+getting off the bed, and writing a letter to Maude Sefton, describing
+the narrow  stupidity of the whole family, and how her aunt, without
+hearing her, had send her to be for Mysie's fault.  However she felt so
+shaky and tired that she thought she had better rest a little first,
+and somehow she fell fast asleep, and was only awakened by the gong.
+She jumped up in haste, recollecting that the delightful sympathizing
+Miss Constance was coming to luncheon, and set her hair and dress to
+rights eagerly, observing, however, to herself, that her horrid aunt
+was quite capable of imprisoning her all the time for not having learnt
+that stupid poetry.
+
+She hesitated a little where to go when she reached the hall, but the
+schoolroom door was open, and she heard a mournful voice concluding
+with a gasp--
+
+        'Our glorious semper eadem, the banner of our pride.'
+
+And Miss Vincent saying, 'Now, my dear, go and wash your face, and try
+not to be such a dismal spectacle.'
+
+And then Mysie came out, with heavy eyes and a mottled face, showing
+that she had been crying all the time she had been learning, over her
+own fault certainly, but likewise over mamma's displeasure and Dolly's
+shabbiness.
+
+'Well, Dora,' said Miss Vincent, 'have you come to repeat your poetry?'
+
+'No,' said Dolores.  'I went to sleep instead.'
+
+'Oh!  I'm glad of that.  I wish poor Mysie had done the same.  I
+believe it was what Lady Merrifield intended, you both looked so
+knocked up.'
+
+Dolores cleared up a little at this, especially as Miss Vincent was no
+relation, and she thought it a good time to make her protest against
+mere English.
+
+'Oh!' she said.  'I supposed that was the reason she gave me such a
+stupid, childish, sing-song nursery rhyme to learn.  I can say lots of
+Schiller and some Goethe.'
+
+'I advise you not to let any one hear you call Lord Macaulay's poem a
+nursery rhyme, or it might never be forgotten,' said Miss Vincent
+gaily.  Then seeing the cloud return to Dolores's face, she added, 'You
+have been brought forward in German, I see.  We must try to bring your
+knowledge of English literature up to be even with it.'
+
+Dolores liked this better than anything she had yet heard, chiefly
+because she had learnt from her books that governesses were not
+uniformly so cruel as aunts.  And besides, she felt that she had been
+spared a public humiliation.
+
+By this time the guests were ringing at the door, and Miss Vincent,
+with her had on, only waiting till their entrance was made to depart.
+Dolores asked whether to go into the drawing-room, and was told that
+Lady Merrifield preferred that the children should only appear in the
+dining-room on the sound of the gong, which was not long in being
+heard.
+
+The Merrifields were trained not to chatter when there was company at
+table, besides Mysie and Val were in low spirits about the chance of
+the blackberry cookery. Miss Hacket sat on one side of Lady Merrifield,
+and talked about what associates had answered her letters, and what
+villages would send contingents of girls, and it sounded very dull to
+the young people.  Miss Constance was next to Hal.  She looked amiable
+and sympathetic at Dolores on the opposite side of the table, but
+discussed lawn-tennis tournaments with her neighbour, which was quite
+as little interesting to the general public as was the G.F.S.  However,
+as soon as Primrose had said grace, Lady Merrifield proposed to take
+Miss Hacket down to the stable-yard; and the whole train followed
+excepting the two girls, who trusted Hal to see whether their pets
+would suffer inconvenience.  However it soon was made evident to
+Gillian that she was not wanted, and that Dolores and Constance had no
+notion of wandering about the paved courts and bare coach-houses, among
+the dogs and cats, guinea-pigs, and fowls.  Indeed, Constance, who was
+at least seven years older than Gillian, and a full-blown young lady,
+dismissed her by saying 'that she was going to see Miss Mohun's books.'
+
+'Oh, certainly,' said Gillian, in a voice as though she were rather
+surprised, though much relieved.
+
+So off the friends went together--for of course they were to be
+friends.  The Miss Mohun had been uttered in a tone that clearly meant
+to be asked to drop it, so they were to be Dolores and Constance
+henceforth, if not Dolly and Cons.  Dolores was such a lovely name that
+Constance could not mangle it, and was sure there was some reason for
+it.  The girl had, in fact, been named after a Spanish lady, whom her
+mother had known and admired in early girlhood, and to whom she had
+made a promise of naming her first daughter after her.  No doubt
+Dolores did not know that Mrs. Mohun had regretted the childish promise
+which she had felt bound to keep in spite of her husband's dislike to
+the name, which he declared would be a misfortune to the child.
+
+Dolores was really proud of its peculiarity, and delighted to have any
+one to sympathize with her, in that and a great deal besides, which she
+communicated to her new friend in the window-seat of her room.  When
+the two ladies went home, Constance told her sister that 'dear little
+Dolores was a remarkable character, sadly misunderstood among those
+common-place people, the Merrifields, and unjustly used, too, and she
+should do her best for her!'
+
+Meantime Gillian, finding herself not wanted, had repaired to the
+schoolroom.
+
+'Oh, it is of no use,' sighed Mysie, disconsolately.  'I've ever so
+much morning's work to make up, too.  And I never shall!  I've muzzled
+my head!'
+
+By which remarkable expression Mysie signified that fatigue, crying,
+and dinner had made her brains dull and heavy; but Gillian was a
+sensible elder sister.
+
+'Don't try your sum yet, then,' she said.  'Practise your scales for
+half an hour, while I do my algebra, and then we'll go over your German
+verbs together.  I'll tell Miss Vincent, and she wont' mind, and I
+think mamma will be pleased if you try.'
+
+Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able to work an equation,
+and prepare her Virgil, to the sound of scales, and Mysie was a good
+deal restored by them and by hope.
+
+So when at length Constance had been summoned by her sister, who tore
+herself away from the arrangements, being bound to five-o'clock tea
+elsewhere, Mysie was discovered with a face still rather woe-begone,
+but hopeful and persevering, and though there still was a 'bill of
+parcels' where 11  and 3/4 lbs. of mutton at 13 and 1/2d. per lb.
+refused to come right, Lady Merrifield kissed her, said she had been a
+diligent child, and sent her off prancing in bliss to the old 'still-
+room' stove, where they were allowed a fire, basins, spoons, and
+strainers, and where the sugar lay in a snowy heap, and the
+blackberries in a sanguine pile.
+
+'There's partiality!' thought Dolores, and scowled, as she stood at the
+front door still gazing after Constance.
+
+'Won't you come, Dolly?' said Mysie.  'Or haven't you learnt your
+lessons?'
+
+'No,' said Dolly, making one answer serve for both questions.
+
+'Oh! then you can't.  Shall I ask mamma to let you off?'
+
+'No, I don't care.  I don't like messes!  And what's the use if you
+haven't a cookery class?'
+
+'It's such fun,' said Val.
+
+'And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin and taught Gill,'
+added Mysie.
+
+'But if you haven't done your lessons, you can't go,' said Valetta
+decidedly.
+
+Off they went, and Lady Merrifield presently crossed the hall, and saw
+Dolores' attitude.
+
+'My dear, are you waiting to say those verses?' she said kindly.
+
+'I hadn't time to learn them, I went to sleep,' said Dolores.
+
+'A very good thing too, my dear.  Suppose we go over them together.'
+
+Aunt Lilias took the unwilling hand, led Dolores into the schoolroom,
+and for half an hour she went over the verses with her, explaining what
+was new to the girl, and vividly describing the agitation of Plymouth,
+and the flocks of people thronging in.  'I must show her that I will be
+minded, but I will make it pleasant to her, poor child,' she thought.
+
+And it could not have been otherwise than pleasant to her, but that she
+was reflecting all this time that she was being punished while Mysie
+was enjoying herself.  Therefore she put the lid on her intellect, and
+was inconceivably stupid.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+PERSECUTION
+
+
+
+On Monday afternoon Dolores was sitting at the end of the long garden
+walk, upon a green garden-bench, with a crocodile's head and tail
+roughly carved.  The shouts of the others were audible in the distance
+beyond the belt of trees.  Aunt Lily had driven into the town to meet
+her sisters, taking Fergus with her, whereas Dolores had never been out
+in the carriage.  There was partiality!  Though, to be sure, Fergus was
+to have a tooth out!  Harry and Gillian were playing with the rest, and
+she had been invited to join, but she had made answer that she hated
+romping, and on being assured that no romping was necessary, she
+replied that she only wanted to read in peace.  She had refused the
+"Thorn Fortress,' which she was told would explain the game, and had
+hunted out "Clare, or No Home,' to compare her lot with that of the
+homeless one.
+
+Certainly, she had not yet been sent to bed with a box on the ear
+because a countess had shown symptoms of noticing her more than her
+ugly, over-dressed cousin.  But then Aunt Lily would not allow her to
+walk down alone to the Casement Villas to see dear Constance, and would
+let that farmer keep all those dreadful cows in the paddock, so that
+even going escorted was a terror to her.
+
+Nor had her handsome mourning been taken from her and old clothes of
+her cousin substituted for it.  No, but she had been cruelly pulled
+about between Mrs. Halfpenny and the Silverton dressmaker with a
+mouthful of pins; and Aunt Lily had insisted on her dress being trimmed
+with velvet, instead of the jingling jet she preferred.
+
+Did they intercept her letters?  She had had one from her father, sent
+from Falmouth, but only one from Maude Sefton in ten days!  Moreover,
+she had one from Constance in her apron pocket, arrived that very
+afternoon, asking her to come down with  Gillian on the Sundays, that
+the friends might enjoy themselves together while the classes were
+going on; but she made sure that all were so jealous of her friendship
+with Constance that no consent would be given.
+
+She did not hear or notice the whisperings in the laurels behind her--
+
+'Do you see that sulky old Croat, smoking his pipe under the tree?'
+
+'No, he is a Black Brunswicker.'
+
+'Nonsense, Willie; the Black Brunswickers weren't till Bonaparte's
+time.'
+
+'I don't care, he is anything black and nasty; here goes!'
+
+'Oh stop; don't shoot.  I believe he is only a vivandiere.  Besides,
+it's treacherous--'
+
+'I tell you he is laying a train to blow up the tower.  There!'
+
+An arrow struck the bench beside Dolores, who, more angry than she had
+ever been in her life, snatched it up, unheeding that it had no point
+to speak of, rushed headlong in pursuit, while, with a tremendous
+shout, Valetta and Wilfred flew before her to a waste overgrown place
+at the end of the kitchen garden.
+
+'We've shot a Croat!'
+
+'No, a Black Brunswicker.'
+
+'Oh ah!  They are coming--the enemy!  Into the fortress!  Bar the
+wolf's passage!'
+
+And as Dolores struggled through the bushes, she saw the whole family
+dashing into an outhouse, and the door slammed.  She pushed against it,
+but an unearthly compound of howls, yells, shouts and bangs replied.
+
+'Gillian!  Harry, I say,' she cried in great anger; 'come out, I want
+to speak to you.'
+
+But her voice was lost in the war-whoops within, and the louder she
+knocked, the louder grew the din, till she walked off, swelling with
+grief and indignation.  Mysie, after all her professions of friendship,
+to use her in this way!  And Harry and Gillian, who should have kept
+the others within bounds!
+
+Slowly she crossed the lawn, just as Lady Merrifield, the other two
+aunts, and Fergus, all came out from the glass door of the drawing-
+room.  Aunt Jane, a trim little dark-eyed woman, looking at two and
+forty much the same as she might have done at five and twenty; and Aunt
+Adeline, pretty and delicately fair, with somewhat of the same grace as
+Lady Merrifield, but more languor, and an air as if everything about
+her were for effect.  Though not specially fond of theses aunts,
+Dolores was glad to have them as witnesses of her ill-usage.
+
+'There stands Dolly, like a statue of Diana, dart in hand,' exclaimed
+Aunt Adeline.
+
+'Yes,' said Dolores; 'I wish to know, Aunt Lilias, if Wilfred and
+Valetta are to call me names, and shoot arrows at me?'
+
+'What do you mean, my dear?'
+
+'They came at me while I was sitting quietly reading--there--and shot
+at me, and called me such horrid names I can't repeat them, and ran
+away.  Then the others, Gillian and Harry and all, would not listen to
+me, but shut themselves up in an out-house and shouted at me.'
+
+'I think there must be some mistake, Dolores,' said her aunt.  'Where
+are they?'
+
+'Out beyond there,' said Dolores, pointing in the direction in which
+Fergus was running.
+
+Lady Merrifield set off with her, and the other two ladies followed
+more slowly.
+
+'I thought it would not do,' said Aunt Jane.
+
+'Lily's children are so rough,' added Aunt Adeline.
+
+'I am not so sure  that the fault is theirs,' was the reply.  'She is a
+priggish little puss, who wants shaking up.'
+
+'Ah! here come the hordes,' sighed Adeline, shrinking a little, as the
+entire population, summoned by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the
+advancing mother.
+
+'How is this, Wilfred?  Have you been shooting arrows at your cousin?'
+
+'Mama!' cried Valetta, indignantly, 'he did not shoot at her; he only
+pretended, and shot the old crocodile-bench.  He never meant any more.
+It was only play.'
+
+'Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the direction of any person?'
+
+'Nor I didn't!' said Wilfred.  'I only shot the crocodile.  I never
+tried to hit her.  She is quite big enough to miss.'
+
+'And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma,' added Valetta.  'We were
+scouts out of the Thorn Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly
+dodge to steal upon one of the enemy.'
+
+'You should have warned her.'
+
+Then it would not have been a surprise,' said Val, seriously.
+
+'Was she not at play with you?'
+
+'No, mamma,' said Mysie.  'We asked her, and she would not.  I say,'
+pausing in consternation, 'Dolores, was it you that came and called at
+the door of the Wolf's passage?'
+
+'Of course.  I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred behaved to me.'
+
+I thought it was Fergus come home to be the enemy.'
+
+'Didn't you know her voice?' asked the mother
+
+'We were all  making such a noise ourselves in the dark,'  said
+Gillian, 'that there was no hearing any one; and Primrose was rather
+frightened, so that Hal was attending to her.  Indeed, Dolores, I am
+very sorry.  If we had guessed that it was you, we would have opened
+the door at once, and then you would have known that it was all fun and
+play, and not have troubled mamma about it.'
+
+'Wilfred and Valetta knew,' said Dolores, rather sullenly.
+
+'Oh!  but it was such fun,' said Val.
+
+'It was fun that became unkindness on your part,' said her mother.
+'You ought not to have kept it up without warning to her.  And what do
+I hear about names?  I hope that was also misunderstanding of the game.
+What did you call her?'
+
+'Only a Croat,' said Valetta, indignantly, 'and a Black Brunswicker.'
+
+'Was that it, Dolores?'
+
+'Perhaps,' she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh from her Aunt Jane.
+
+'I do not know what you took them for,' said Lady Merrifield, 'but you
+see some part of this trouble arose from a mistake on you part.  Now,
+Wilfred and Valetta, remember that is not right to force a person into
+play against her will.  And as to the shooting near, but not at her,
+you both know perfectly well that it is forbidden.  So give me your
+bow, Wilfred.  I shall keep it for a week, that you may remember
+obedience.'
+
+Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed.  Dolores could not call her aunt
+unjust, but as she look round, she met glances that made her think it
+prudent to shelter herself among the elders.  Aunt Jane asked what the
+game was.
+
+'The Thorn Fortress,' said Gillian.  'It comes out of that delightful
+S.P.C.K. book so called, where, in the 'Thirty Years' War,' all the
+people of a village took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the
+middle of a forest guarded by a tremendous hedge of thorns.  Val had it
+for a birthday present, and the children have been acting it ever
+since.'
+
+'It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, which used to be a
+regular stage in these children's lives.  Every voyage we have taken,
+somebody has come to ask whether there was any hope of being wrecked on
+one.'
+
+'Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin,' said Gillian.
+
+'He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition,' observed Harry.
+
+On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five o'clock tea in the
+drawing-room, the juniors to gouter in the dining-room.  As Dolores
+entered, she beheld a row of all her five younger cousins drawn up
+looking at her as if se had committed high treason, and she was
+instantly addressed--
+
+'Tell-take tit!' began Valetta.
+
+'Sneak!' cried Wilfred.
+
+'I will call her Croat!' added Fergus.
+
+'Worse than Croat!  Bashi Bazouk!' exclaimed Valetta.
+
+'Worse than Crow!' chimed in Primrose.
+
+'Oh, Dolores! How could you?' said Mysie.
+
+'To get poor Willie punished!' said Val.
+
+Dolores stood her ground.  'It was time to speak when it came to
+shooting arrows at me.'
+
+'Hush! hush!  Willie,' cried Mysie.  'I told you so.  Now Dolores,
+listen.  Nobody ever tells of anybody when it is only being tiresome
+and they don't mean it, or there never would be any peace at all.
+That's honour!  Do you see?  One may go to Gill sometimes.'
+
+'One's a sneak if one does,' put in Wilfred; but Mysie, unheeding went
+on--
+
+'And Gill can help without a fuss or going to mamma.'
+
+'Mamma always knows,' said Val.
+
+'Mamma knows all about everything,' said Mysie.  'I think it's nature;
+ad if she does not always take notice at the time, she will have it out
+sooner or later.'  Then resuming the thread of her discourse: 'So you
+see, Dolly, we have made up our minds that we will forgive you this
+time, because you are an only child and don't know what's what, and
+that's some excuse.  Only you mustn't go on telling tales whenever an
+evident happens.'
+
+Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, but the force against
+her was overpowering, though still she hesitated.  'But if I promise
+not to tell,' she said, 'how do I know what may be done to me?'
+
+'You might trust us,' cried Mysie, with flashing eyes.
+
+'And I can tell you,' added Wilfred, 'that if you do tell, it will be
+ever so much the worse for you--girl that you are.'
+
+'War to the knife! Cried Valetta, and everybody except Mysie joined in
+the outcry.  'War to the knife with traitors in the camp.'
+
+Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again acted orator.  'You see,
+Dolores, if you did tell, it would not be possible for mamma or Gill to
+be always looking after you, and I couldn't do you much good--and if
+all these three are set against you, and are horrid to you, and I
+couldn't do you much good--horrid to you, you'll have no peace in your
+life; and, after all, we only ask of you to give and take in a good-
+natured sort of way, and not to be always making a fuss about
+everything you don't like.  It is the only way, I assure you.'
+
+Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said--
+
+'Very well.'
+
+'You promise?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Then we forgive you, and here's the box of chocolate things Aunt Ada
+brought.  We'll have a cigar all round and be friends.  Smoke the pipe
+of peace.'
+
+Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would have been to have
+replied, 'Dolores Mohun will never be intimidated;' but the fact was
+that her spirit did quail at the thought of the tortures which the two
+boys might inflict on her if Mysie abandoned her to their mercy, and
+she was relieved, as well as surprised to find that her offence was
+condoned, and she was treated as if nothing had happened.
+
+Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing-room, 'How do you get on?'
+
+'Fairly well,' was Lady Merrifield's answer. 'We shall work together in
+time.'
+
+'What does Gill say?' asked the aunt, rather mischievously.
+
+'Well,' said the young lady, 'I don't think we get on at all, not even
+poor Mysie, who works steadily on at her, gets snubbed a dozen times a
+day, and never seems to feel it.'
+
+I hoped her father would have sent her to school,' said Aunt Adeline.
+'I knew she would be troublesome.  She has all her mother's pride.'
+
+'The proudest people are those who have least to be proud of,' said
+Aunt Jane.
+
+'School would have hardened the crust and kept up the alienation,' said
+Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Perhaps not.  It might teach her to value the holidays, and learn that
+blood is thicker than water,' said Miss Jane.
+
+'It is always in reserve,' added Miss Adeline.
+
+'Yes, Maurice told her to send her if I grew tired of her, as he said,'
+replied Lady Merrifield, 'but of course I should not think of that
+unless for very strong reasons.'
+
+'Oh, mamma!' and Gillian remained with her mouth open.
+
+'Well?' said Aunt Jane.
+
+'I meant to have told you mamma, but Mr. Leadbitter came in about the
+G.F.S. and stopped me, and I have never seen you to speak to since.
+Yesterday you know, I stayed from evensong to look after the little
+ones, and you said Dolores might do as she pleased, so she stayed at
+home.  The children were looking at the book of Bible Pictures, and it
+came out that Dolly knew nothing at all about Joshua and the walls of
+Jericho, nor Gideon and the lamps in the pitchers, nor anything else.
+Then, when I was surprised, she said that it was not the present system
+to perplex children with the myths of ancient Jewish history.'
+
+Gillian was speaking rapidly, in the growing consciousness that her
+mother had rather have had this communication reserved for her private
+ear--and her answer was, 'Poor child!'
+
+'Just what I should expect!' said Aunt Jane.
+
+'Probably it was jargon half understood, and repeated in defence of her
+ignorance,' said Lady Merrifield.  'She is an odd mixture of defiant
+loyalty and self-defence.'
+
+'What shall you do about this kind of talk?' asked her sister.
+
+'One must hear it sooner or later,' said Harry.
+
+'That is true,' returned his mother, 'but I suppose Fergus and Primrose
+did not hear or understand.'
+
+'Oh no, mamma.  I know they did not, for they were squabbling because
+Primrose wanted to turn over before Fergus had done with Gideon.'
+
+'Then I don't think there is any harm done.  If it comes before Mysie
+or Val I will talk to them, and I mean to take this poor child alone
+for a little while each day in the week and try to get at her.'
+
+'There's another thing,' said Gillian.  'Is she to go down with me
+always to Casement Cottages on Sunday afternoons when I take the
+class?'
+
+'To teach or to learn?' ironically exclaimed Aunt Jane.
+
+'Neither,' said Gillian.  'To chatter to Constance Hacket.  They both
+spoke to me about it yesterday before I went home, and I believe
+Constance has written a note to her to ask her today!  Fancy, that
+goose told me my sweet cousin was a dear, and that we didn't appreciate
+her.  Even Miss Hacket gave me quite a lecture on kindness and
+consideration to an orphan stranger.'
+
+'Not uncalled for, perhaps,' said Aunt Jane.  'I hope you received it
+in an edifying manner.'
+
+'Now, Aunt Jane!  Well, I believe I said we were as kind as she would
+let us be, especially Mysie.'
+
+Lady Merrifield here made the move to conduct her sisters to their
+rooms; Miss Mohun detained her when they had reached hers, and had left
+Adeline to rest on her sofa.  The two, though very unlike, had still
+the habits of absolute confidential intimacy belonging to sisters next
+in age.
+
+'Lily,' said Miss Mohun, 'Gillian spoke of a note.  Did Maurice give
+you any directions about this child's correspondence?'
+
+'You know I did not see him.  I was so much disappointed.  I would give
+anything to have talked her over with him.'
+
+'I am not sure that you would have gained much.  I doubt whether he
+knows much about her, poor fellow.  But the letters?'
+
+'He wrote that she had been a good deal with Professor Sefton's family,
+and he thought they might like to keep up their intercourse.'
+
+'Nothing about Flinders?  He ought to have warned you.'
+
+'No.  Who is he?'
+
+'A half-brother--no, a step-brother to poor Mary.  He was the son by a
+former marriage of her father's first wife, and has been always a thorn
+in their sides.  He is a low, dissipated kind of creature; writes
+theatrical criticisms for third-rate papers, or something of that kind,
+when he is at his best.  I believe Mary was really fond of him, and
+helped him more than Maurice could well bear, and since her death the
+man has perfectly pestered him with appeals to her memory.  I really
+believe one reason he welcomed this post was to get out of his reach.'
+
+'You always know everything Jenny.  Now how did you know this?'
+
+'I called once in the midst of an interview between him and Mary. And
+afterwards I came on poor Maurice when he was really very much
+provoked, and had it all out; ad since her death--well, I saw him get a
+begging letter from the man, and he spoke of it again.  I wish I had
+advised him to warn you against the wretch.'
+
+'I don't suppose he knows where the child is.  He is no relation to
+her, you say?'
+
+'None at all, happily.  But on that occasion, when I was an
+uncomfortable third, Maurice was very angry that she should have been
+allowed to call him Uncle Alfred; and Mary screwed up her little mouth,
+and evidently rather liked the aggravation to Mohun pride.'
+
+'Poor Maurice, so he had a skeleton!  Well, I don't see how it can hurt
+us.  The man probably knows nothing about us, and even if he could
+trace the girl, he must know that she can do nothing for him.'
+
+'You had better keep an eye on her letters.  He is quite capable of
+asking for the poor child's half sovereigns.  I wish Maurice had given
+you authority.'
+
+'Perhaps he spoke to her about it.  At any rate, what he said of the
+Seftons is quite sufficient to imply that there is no sanction to any
+other correspondence.'
+
+'That is true.  Really, Lily, I believe you are the most likely person
+to do some good with her, though I don't think you know what you are in
+for.  But Gillian does!'
+
+'I believe it is very good for the children to have to exercise a
+little forbearance.  In spite of all our knocking about the world, our
+family exclusiveness is pretty much what ours was in the old Beechcroft
+days--'
+
+'When Rotherwood and Robert Mohun were out only outsiders and the
+Westons came on us like new revelations!'
+
+'It is curious to look back on,' said Lady Merrifield.  'It seems to me
+that the system, or no system, on which we were brought up was rather
+passing away even then.'
+
+'Specks we growed,' said Jane.  'What do you call the system?'
+
+'Just that people thought it their own business to bring up their
+children themselves, and let the actual technical teaching depend upon
+opportunities, whereas now they get them taught, but let the bringing
+up take it chance.'
+
+'People lived with their children then--yes, I see what you mean, Lily.
+Poor Eleanor, intending with all her might to be a mother to us,
+brought us up, as you call it, with all her powers; but public opinion
+would never have suffered us to get merely the odd sort of teaching
+that she could give us.  It was regular, or course; but oh! do you
+remember the old atlas, with Germany divided into circles, and
+everything as it was before the Congress of Vienna?'
+
+'You liked geography; I hated it.'
+
+'Yes, I was young enough to come in for the elder boys' old school
+atlases, which had some sense in them.  It seems to me that we had more
+the spirit of working for ourselves according to our individual tastes
+than people have now.  We learnt, they are taught.'
+
+'Well!  and what did we learn?'
+
+'As much as we could carry,' said Aunt Jane, laughing.  'Assimilate, if
+you like it better; and I doubt if people will turn out to have done
+more now.  What becomes of all the German that is crammed down girl's
+throats, whether they have a turn for languages or not?  Do they ever
+read a German book?  Now you learnt it for love of Fouque and Max
+Piccolomini, and you have kept it up ever since.'
+
+'Yes, by cramming it down my children's throats.  But what I complain
+of, Jane, in the young folk that come across me is not over-knowledge,
+but want of knowledge--want of general culture.  This Dolores, for
+instance, can do what she has been taught better than Mysie, some tings
+better than Gillian, but she has absolutely no interest in general
+knowledge, not even in the glaciers which she has seen; she does not
+know whether Homer wrote in Greek or Latin, considers "Marmion' a
+lesson, cannot tell a planet from a star, and neither knows nor cares
+anything about the two Napoleons.  Now we seem to have breathed in such
+things.  Why!  I remember being made into Astyanax for a very unwilling
+Andromache (poor Eleanor) for caress, and being told to shudder at the
+bright copper coal-scuttle, before Harry went to school.'
+
+'Of course poor Maurice could not cultivate his child.  Yet, after all,
+we grew up without a mother; but then the dear old Baron lived among
+us, and knew what we were doing, instead of shutting us up in a
+schoolroom with some one, with only knowledge, not culture.  Those very
+late dinners have quite upset all the intelligent intercourse between
+fathers and children not come out.'
+
+'Yes, Jasper and I have felt that difficulty. But after all, Jenny,
+when I look back, I cannot say I think ours was a model bringing up.
+What a strange year that was after Eleanor's marriage!'
+
+'Ah!  you felt responsible and were too young for it, but to me it was
+a very jolly time, though I suppose I was an ingredient in your
+troubles.  Yes, we brought ourselves up; but I maintain that it was
+better alternative than being drilled so hard as never to think of
+anything but arrant idling out of lesson-time.'
+
+'Lessons should be lessons, and play, play, is one of the professor's
+maxims to which that poor child has treated us.'
+
+'Ah! on that system, where would have been all your grand heraldic
+pedigrees?  I've got them still.'
+
+'Oh! Jenny, you good old Brownie, have you?  How I should like to look
+at them again and show them the Gillian and Mysie.  Do you remember the
+little scalloped line we drew round all the true knights?'
+
+'Ay! and where would have been all your romancing about Sir Maurice de
+Mohun, the pride of his name?  For my part, I much prefer a cavalier
+dead two hundred years ago as the object of a girl's enthusiasm--if
+enthusiasm she must have--to the existing lieutenant, or even curate.'
+
+'Certainly; I should be sorry to have been bred up to history with
+individual interest and romance squeezed out of it.  You see when
+Jasper came home from the Crimea he exactly continued mine.'
+
+'You have fulfilled your ideal better than falls to the lot of most
+people, even to the item of knighthood.'
+
+'Ah! you should have heard us grumble over the expense of it.  And,
+after all, I dare say Sir Maurice found his knight's fee quite as
+inconvenient!  Oh!' with a start, 'there's the first bell, and here
+have I been dawdling here instead of minding my business!  But it is so
+nice to have you!  I day, Jenny, we will have one of our good old games
+at threadpaper verses and all the rest tonight. I want you to show the
+children how we used to play at them.'
+
+And the party played at paper games for nearly two hours that evening,
+to the extreme delight of Gillian, Mysie, and Harry, to say nothing of
+their mother and aunts, who played with all their might, even Aunt
+Adeline lighting up into droll, quiet humour.  Only Dolores was first
+bewildered, then believed herself affronted, and soon gave up
+altogether, wondering that grown-up people could be so foolish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+G.F.S.
+
+
+
+The first thought of Dolores was that she should see Constance Hacket,
+when she heard 'Hurrah for a holiday!' resounding over the house.
+
+As she came out of her room Mysie met her.  'Hurrah!  Aunt Jane has got
+us a holiday that we may help get ready for the G.F.S.!  Mamma has sent
+down notes to Miss Vincent and Mr. Pollock.  Oh! jolly, jolly!'
+
+And, obvious of past offences, Mysie caught her cousin's arms, and
+whirled her round and round in an exulting dance, extremely unpleasant
+to so quiet a personage.  'Don't!' she cried.  'You hurt!  You make me
+dizzy!'
+
+'My certie, Miss Mysie!' exclaimed Mrs. Halfpenny at the same time,
+'ye're daft!  Gae doon canny, and keep your apron on, for if I see a
+stain on that clean dress--'
+
+Mysie hopped downstairs without waiting to hear the terrible
+consequences.'
+
+Aunt Adeline did not come down to breakfast, but Aunt Jane appeared,
+fresh and glowing, just in time for prayers, having been with Gillian
+and Harry to survey the scene of operations, and to judge of the day,
+which threatened showers, the grass being dank and sparkling with
+something more than September dews.
+
+'The tables must be in the coach-house,' said Lady Merrifield.
+'Happily, our equipages are not on a large scale, and we must not get
+the poor girls' best things drenched.'
+
+'No; and it is rather disheartening to have to address double ranks of
+umbrellas,' said Aunt Jane.  'Is the post come?'
+
+'It is  always infamously late here,' said Harry.  'We complained, as
+the appointed hour is eight, but we were told 'all the other ladies
+were satisfied.' I do believe they think no one not in business has a
+right to wish for letters before nine.'
+
+'Here it comes, though,' said Gillian; and in due time the locked
+letter-bag was delivered to Lady Merrifield, and Primrose waited
+eagerly to act as postman.
+
+It was not the day for the Indian mail, but Aunt Jane expected some
+last directions, and Lady Merrifield the final intelligence as to the
+numbers of each contingent of girls. Dolores was on the qui vive for a
+letter from Maude Sefton, and devoured her aunt and the bag with her
+eyes.  She was quite sure that among the bundle of post-cards that were
+taken out there was a letter.  Also she saw her aunt give a  little
+start, and put it aside, and when she demanded.  'Is there no letter
+for me?'  Lady Merrifield's answer was,' None, my dear, from Miss
+Sefton.'
+
+Hot indignation glowed in Dolores's cheeks and eyes, more especially as
+she perceived a look pass between the two aunts.  She sat swelling
+while talk about the chances of rain was passing round her, the
+forecasts in the paper, the cats washing their faces, the swallows
+flying low, the upshot being that it might be fine, but that
+emergencies were to be prepared for.  All the time that Lady Merrifield
+was giving orders to children and servants for the preparations,
+Dolores kept her station, and the instant there was a vacant moment,
+she said fiercely--
+
+'Aunt Lilias, I know there is a letter for me.  Let me have it.'
+
+'Your father told me you might have letter from Miss Sefton, and there
+is none from her,' said Lady Merrifield, with a somewhat perplexed air.
+
+'I may have letters from whom I choose.'
+
+'My dear, that is not the custom in general with girls of your age, and
+I know your father would not wish it.  Tell me, is there any one you
+have reason to expect to hear from?'
+
+Dolores had an instinct that all the Mohuns were set against the person
+she was thinking of, but she had an answer ready, true, but which would
+serve her purpose.
+
+'There was a person, Herr Muhlwausser, that father ordered some
+scientific plates from--of microscopic zoophytes.  He said he did not
+know whether anything would come of it, but, in case it should, he gave
+my address, and left me a cheque to pay him with.  I have it in my desk
+upstairs.'
+
+'Very well, my dear,' said Lady Merrifield, 'you shall have the letter
+when it comes.'
+
+'The men are come, my lady, to put up the tables.  Miss Mohun says will
+you come down?' came the information at that moment, sweeping away Aunt
+Lilias and everybody else into the whirl of preparation; while Dolores
+remained, feeling absolutely certain that a letter was being withheld
+from her, and she stood on the garden steps burning with hot
+indignation, when Mysie, armed with the key of the linen-press, flashed
+past her breathlessly, exclaiming--
+
+'Aren't you coming down, Dolly?  'Tis such fun!  I'm come for some
+table-cloths.'
+
+This didn't stir Dolores, but presently Mysie returned again, followed
+by Mrs. Halfpenny, grumbling that 'A' the bonnie napery that she had
+packed and carried sae mony miles by sea and land should be waured on a
+wheen silly feckless taupies that 'tis the leddies' wull to cocker up
+till not a lass of 'em will do a stroke of wark, nor gie a ceevil
+answer to her elders.'
+
+Mysie, with a bundle of damask cloths under her arm, paused to repeat,
+'Are you not coming Dolly?  Your dear Miss Constance is there looking
+for you?'
+
+This did move Dolores, and she followed to the coach-house, where
+everybody was buzzing about like bees, the tables and forms being
+arranged, and upon them dishes with piles of fruit and cakes,
+contributions from other associates. All the vases, great and small,
+were brought out, and raids were made on the flower garden to fill
+them.  Little scarlet flags, with the name of each parish in white,
+were placed to direct the parties of guests to their places, and Harry,
+Macrae, and the little groom were adorning the beams with festoons.
+The men from the coffee-tavern supplied the essentials, but the ladies
+undertook the decoration, and Aunt Adeline, in a basket-chair, with her
+feet on a box, directed the ornamentation with great taste and ability.
+Constance Hacket had been told off to make up a little bouquet to lay
+beside each plate, and Dolores volunteered to help her.
+
+'Well, dearest, will you come to me on Sunday?'
+
+'I don't know.  I have not been able to ask Aunt Lilias yet, and
+Gillian was very cross about it.'
+
+'What did she say?'
+
+'She said she did not think Aunt Lilias approved of visiting and
+gossiping on Sunday.'
+
+'Oh! now.  What does Gillian do herself?' said Constance in a hurt
+voice.  'She does come and teach, certainly, but she stays ever so long
+talking after the class is over.  Why should we gossip more than she
+does?'
+
+'Yes; but people's own children can do no wrong.'
+
+There Constance became inattentive.  Mr. Poulter had come up, and
+wanted to be useful, so she jumped up with a handful of nosegays to
+instruct him in laying them by each plate, leaving Dolores to herself,
+which she found dull.  The other two, however, came back again, and the
+work continued, but the talk was entirely between the gentleman and
+lady, chiefly about music for the choral society, and the voices of the
+singers, about which Dolores neither knew nor cared.
+
+By one o'clock the long tables were a pretty sight, covered with piles
+of fruit and cakes, vases of flowers and little flags, establishments
+of teacups at intervals, and a bouquet and pretty card at every one of
+the plates.
+
+Then came early dinner at the house, and such rest as could be had
+after it, till the pony-chaise, waggonette, and Mrs. Blackburne's
+carriage came to the door to convey to church all whom they could
+carry, the rest walking.
+
+The church was a sea of neat round hats, mostly black, with a
+considerable proportion of feathers, tufts, and flowers.  On their dark
+dresses were pinned rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to
+which parish they belonged.  There was  a bright, short service, in
+which the clear, high voices of the multitudinous maidens quite
+overcame those of the choir boys, and then an address, respecting which
+Constance pronounced that 'Canon Fremont was always so sweet,' and
+Dolores assented, without in the least knowing what it had been about.
+
+Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept guard, in the walk
+from church, over the white-rosed Silverton detachment; but another
+shower was impending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must not
+get wet, rushed up and packed her into the waggonette, where Dolores
+was climbing after, when at a touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield
+looked round.
+
+'Dolores,' she said, 'you forget that Miss Hacket walked to church.'
+
+Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black as thunder, and
+Miss Hacket protested that she was not tired, and could not leave her
+girls.
+
+'Never mind the girls, I will look after them; I meant to walk.  Don't
+stand on the step.  Come down,'  she added sharply, but not in time,
+for the horses gave a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, down
+tumbled Dolores, or would have tumbled, but that she was caught between
+her aunt and Miss Hacket, who with one voice admonished her never to do
+that again, for there was nothing more dangerous.  Indeed, there was
+more anger in Lady Merrifield's tone than her niece had yet heard, and
+as there was no making out that there was the least injury to the girl,
+she was forced to walk home, in spite of all Miss Hacket's
+protestations and refusals, which had nearly ended in her exposing
+herself to the same peril as Dolores, only that Lady Merrifield fairly
+pushed her in and shut the door on her.  Nothing would have compensated
+to Dolores but that her Constance should have jumped out to accompany
+her and bewail her aunt's cruelty, but devotion did not reach to such
+an extent.  Her aunt, however, said in a tone that might be either
+apology or reproof--
+
+'My dear, I could not let poor Miss Hacket walk after all she has done
+and with all she has to do today.'
+
+Dolores vouchsafed no answer, but Aunt Jane said--
+
+'All which applies doubly to you, Lily.'
+
+'Not a bit; I am not run about like all of you,' she answered,
+brightly.  'Besides, it is such fun! I feel like Whit Monday at
+Beechcroft!  Don't you remember the pink and blue glazed calico banners
+crowned with summer snowballs?  And the big drum?  What a nice-looking
+set of girls!  How pleasant to see rosy, English faces tidily got up!
+They were rosy enough in Ireland, but a great deal too picturesque.
+Now these are a sort of flower of maidenhood--'
+
+'You are getting quite poetical, Lily.'
+
+'It's the effect of walking in procession--there's something quite
+exhilarating in it; ay, and of having a bit of old Beechcroft  about
+me.  Do tell me who that lady is; I ought to know her, I'm sure!  Oh,
+Miss Smith, good morning.  How many girls have you brought?  Oh! the
+crimson rosettes, are they?  York and Lancaster?--indeed.  I'm glad we
+have some shelter for them; I'm afraid there is another shower.  Have
+you no umbrella, my dear?  Come under mine.'
+
+It was a fierce scud of hail, hitting rather than wetting, but Dolores
+had the satisfaction of declaring the edges of her dress to be damp and
+going off to change it, though Aunt Jane pinched the kilting and said
+the damp was imperceptible, and Wilfred muttered, 'Made of sugar, only
+not so sweet.'
+
+In fact, she hoped that Constance, who had told of her hatred to these
+great functions and willingness to do anything to avoid them, would
+avail herself of the excuse; but though the young lady must have seen
+her go, she never attempted to follow; and Dolores, feeling her own
+room dull, came down again to find the drawing-room empty, and on the
+next gleam of sunshine, she decided on going to seek her friend.
+
+What a hum and buzz pervaded the stable-yard!  There was a coach-house
+with all its great doors open,  and the rows of girls awakening from
+their first shy and hungry silence into laughter and talking.  There
+were big urns and fountains steaming, active hands filling cups, all
+the cousins, all their congeners, and four or five clergymen acting as
+waiters, Aunt Adeline pouring out tea a the upper table for any
+associate who had time to swallow it, and Constance Hacket talking away
+to a sandy-haired curate, without so much as seeing her friend!  Only
+Wilfred, at sight of his cousin again, getting up a violent mock cough,
+declaring that he thought she had gone to bed with congealed lungs or
+else Brown Titus, as the old women called it.  His mother, however,
+heard the cough--which, indeed, was too remarkable a sound not to
+attract any one--and with a short, sharp word to him to take care, she
+put Dolores down under Aunt Ada's wing, and provided her with a lovely
+peach and a delicious Bath bun.  Constance just looked up and nodded,
+saying,  'You dear little thing, I couldn't think what was become of
+you,' and then went on with her sandy curate, about--what was it?--
+Dolores know not, only that it seemed very interesting, and she was
+left out of it.
+
+Down came the rain, a hopeless downpour, and there was a consultation
+among the elders, some laughing, some doubtful looks, and at last
+Harry, with Macrae and one of the curates, disappeared.  Then grace was
+sung, and speeches followed--one by the rector, Mr. Leadbitter,
+fatherly and prosy;--a paper read by the Branch Secretary, about
+affairs in general; and a very amusing speech by Miss Mohun, full of
+anecdotes of example and warning.  'You know,' she said, 'all the
+school story-books end--when the grown up books marry their people--
+with the good girl going out to service under her young lady, and there
+she lives happy ever after!  But some of us know better!  We don't know
+how far the marrying ones always do live very happy ever after--'
+
+'For shame, Jenny!'  muttered Lady Merrifield.
+
+'But,' went on Miss Mohun, 'even you that have been lucky enough to get
+under your own young ladies know that life here is all new beginnings
+at the bottom, just as when you were very proud of yourselves for
+getting out of the infant school, you found it was only being at the
+bottom of the upper one; and I can tell the twelve-year-olds--I see
+some of them--that it is often a finer thing to be at the head of the
+school than the last in the house.  Ay, you've got to work up there
+again, and it is a long business and a steady business, but it is to be
+done.  I knew a girl, thirty-five years ago, that my sister-in-law took
+from school, and she was not a genius either, and I am quite sure she
+could not do rule-of-three, nor tell what is the capital of Dahomey, as
+I dare say every one here can do, but I'll tell you what she did, and
+that was, her best, and there she has been ever since; and the last
+time  I saw her was sitting up in her housekeeper's room, in her silk
+gown, with her master's grandchildren hanging about her, respected and
+loved by us all.  And I knew another, a much clever girl at school,
+with prettier ways to begin with, but--I'm sorry to say, her finger
+were too clever, and it was not very happy ever after, though she did
+right herself.'  And then Aunt Jane went on to the difficulties of
+having to deal with such quantities of pots and pans, and knives and
+forks, and cloths and brushes, each with a use of its very own, just as
+if she had been a scullery-maid herself; telling how sense and memory
+must be brought to bear on these things just as much as in analyzing a
+sentence, and how even those would not do without the higher motive of
+faithfulness to Him whose servants we all are.  Her finish was a
+picture of the roving servant girl, always saying, 'I don't like it,'
+and always seeking novelty, illustrated by her experience of a little
+maid who left one place because she could not sleep alone, and another
+because the little girl slept with her, a third because it was so
+lonesome, and a fourth because it was so noisy, and quitted her fifth
+within a half year because she could not eat twice cooked meat.
+
+Aunt Jane varied her voice in the most comical way, and the girls, as
+well as all her audience, laughed heartily.
+
+'Bravo, Jenny!' said a voice close to her, and a gentleman with a
+rather bald head, a fluffy, light beard touched with white, dancing
+eyes, and a slim, youthful figure, was seen standing in the group.
+
+Lady Merrifield and her sisters cried with one glad voice, 'Oh!
+Rotherwood!' holding out their hands.
+
+'Yes.  I found I'd a few hours between the trains, so I ran down to
+look you up.  I met Harry at the house, and he told me I should find
+Jane qualifying for the female parliament.'
+
+'It's such a pity you should fall on all this turmoil,' said Aunt Ada.
+
+'Pity!  I wouldn't have missed Jenny's wisdom for the world.  What is
+it, Lily?  Temperance, or have you set up a Salvation Army?
+
+'G.F.S., of course, you Rotherwood of old!  And now you are come, you
+shall save me from what has been my bugbear for the last week. You
+shall give the premiums.'
+
+'Come, it's no use making faces and pretending you know nothing about
+it,' added Miss Mohun.  'I know very well that Florence is deep in it!'
+
+'Ay, they'll have you over to repeat that splendid harangue about pots
+and pans!'  said he, bowing at Lady Merrifield's introductions of him
+to the bystanders, and obediently accepting the sheaf of envelopes,
+while Mr. Leadbitter made it known that the premiums would be given by
+the Marquess of Rotherwood.  Certainly it was a much more lively
+business than if Lady Merrifield had performed it, for he had something
+droll to observe to each girl.  One he pretended to envy, telling her
+he had worked hard for may a year, and never got such a card as that
+for it--far less five shillings.  Another he was sure kept her pans
+bright, and always knew which was which; a very little one was asked if
+she had gone from her cradle, and so on, always sending them away with
+a broad smile, and professing great respect for the three seven-year-
+card maidens who came up last.  Then in a concluding speech he
+demanded--where were the premiums for the mistresses, who, he was quite
+sure, deserved them quite as much or more than the maids!
+
+While everybody was still laughing, Lady Merrifield asked Mr.
+Leadbitter to explain that as it was still raining hard, she must ask
+all to adjourn to the great loft over the stable, where they could
+enjoy themselves.  Each associate was to gather her own flock and bring
+them in order.  Lady Merrifield said she would lead the way, Lord
+Rotherwood coming with her, picking up little Primrose in his arms to
+carry her upstairs to the loft.
+
+Every one was moving.  Dolores was among a crowd of strangers. She
+heard them saying how delightful Lord Rotherwood was, and charming and
+handsome and graceful Lady Merrifield, with her beautiful eyes.  It
+worried Dolores, who thought it rather foolish to be pretty, except in
+the case of persecuted orphan, and, moreover, admiration of her aunt
+always seemed to her disparagement of her mother. And where was
+Constance?
+
+She followed the stream, and, climbing some stairs, came out into a
+large, long, empty hay-loft, over what had once been hunting stables--
+the children's wet-day play-place.  The deputation dispatched to the
+house had managed to get up there the schoolroom piano, and one of the
+curates sat down to it, and began playing dance music, while Miss
+Mohun, Miss Hacket, and the other ladies began arranging couples for a
+country dance--all girls, of course, except that Lord Rotherwood danced
+with the tiny premium girl, and Harry with Primrose.  Wilfred and
+Fergus could not be incited to make the attempt; Mysie offered herself
+to Dolores, but in vain.  'I hate dancing,' was all the answer she got,
+and she went off to persuade Lois, the nursery girl.  Constance Hacket
+arranged herself on a chair, and looked out from between two curates;
+there was no getting at her.
+
+Then there came a pause; Lord Rotherwood spoke to Gillian, and must
+have asked her to point Dolores out, for presently he made his way to
+the little dark figure in the window, and, kindly laying his hand on
+her shoulder, asked whether she had heard from her father yet.
+
+'No, I suppose you can't,' he added.  'It is a great break-up for you;
+but you are a lucky girl to be taken in here!  It reminds me of what
+Beechcroft used to be to me when I was a stray fish, though not quite
+so lonely as you are.  Make the most of it, for there aren't many in
+these days like Aunt Lily there!'
+
+'He little knows,' thought Dolores, as a waltz began to be played.
+
+'They want an example,' he said.  'Come along.  You know how, I'm sure
+--a Londoner like you!'
+
+Pairs were whirling about the floor in full career in a short time, to
+the astonishment of other maidens who had never seen dancing in their
+lives.  Dolores, afraid to refuse, and certainly flattered, really was
+wonderfully exhilarated and brightened by her career wither good-
+natured cousin.
+
+'I do believe Cousin Rotherwood has shaken her out of the dumps,'
+observed Gillian to Aunt Jane, who returned--
+
+'He can do it if any one can.'
+
+The funny thing was the effect upon Constance, who, in the next pause,
+shook off her curates, advanced to Dolores, who was recovering her
+breath under the window, called her a dear thing whom she had not been
+able to get to all this time, sat rather forward with an arm round her
+waist for the next half-hour, and, when Sir Roger de Coverley was
+getting up, proposed that they should be partners, but not till she had
+seen Lord Rotherwood pair himself off with Mysie.
+
+'I must,' said he to Lady Merrifield, 'it's so like dancing with honest
+Phyl.'
+
+'The greatest compliment you could have, Mysie,' said her mother,
+looking very much pleased.
+
+The last yellow patches of evening sunshine on the sloping roof faded;
+watches were looked at, the music turned to the National Anthem,
+everybody stood up, or stood still, and sung it.  Then at the close,
+Mr. Leadbitter stood by the piano and said--
+
+'One word more, my young friends.  Some of you may have been surprised
+at this evening's amusement, but we want you to understand that there
+is no harm in dancing itself, provided that the place, the manner, and
+the companions are fit.  I hope that you will all prove the truth of my
+words, by not taking this pleasant evening as an excuse for running
+into places of temptation. Now, good night, with many thanks to Lady
+Merrifield for the happy day she has given us.'
+
+A voice added, 'Three cheers for Lady Merrifield!'  and the G.F.S.
+showed itself by no means backward in the matter of cheering.  There
+was a hunting up of ulsters and umbrellas; one associate after another
+got her flock together, and clattered downstairs, either to get into
+vans, to walk to the station, or to disperse to their homes in the
+town.
+
+Meantime Lord Rotherwood had time to explain that he was on his way to
+fetch his wife home from some German baths, where she had gone to
+recruit after the season; and, as he meant to cross at night, had come
+to spend a few hours with his cousin.  There was still an hour to
+spare, during which Lady Merrifield insisted that he must have more
+solid food than G.F.S. provided.
+
+'Lily,' said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to the house together,
+'it strikes me that Rotherwood could satisfy your mind about that
+letter.  He would know the handwriting.  You remember a certain
+brother--very much in law--of Maurice's?'
+
+'I have reason to do so,' said Lord Rotherwood.  'You don't mean that
+he has been troubling Lily?'
+
+'No; but from the nature of the animal it is much to be apprehended
+that he will,' said Miss Mohun, 'if he knows that the child is here.'
+
+'In fact,' said Lady Merrifield, 'Jane has made me suppress, till
+examination, a letter to her, in case it should be from him.  It is a
+horrid thing to do.  What do you think, Rotherwood?'
+
+'There should be no correspondence.  Did not Maurice warn you?  Then he
+ought.  Look here, Lily.  His wife--under strong compulsion from the
+fellow, I should think--begged me to find some employment for him.  I
+got him a secretaryship to our Board of--what d'ye call it?  I'll do
+Maurice the justice to say that he was considerably cool about it; but
+the end of it was that there was an unaccountable deficit, and my lady
+said it served me right.  I was a fool, as I always am, and gave way to
+the poor woman about not bringing it home to him.  And she insisted on
+making it up to me by degrees--out of her literary work, I fancy--for I
+don't think Maurice knew the extent of the peculation.  Ever since I've
+been getting begging letters from the fellow at intervals.  If he had
+the impertinence to molest you, Lily, simply refer him to me.'
+
+'And if he writes to the child?'
+
+'Return him the letter.  Say she can have no such thing without her
+father's consent.'
+
+'Is this a case in point?' said Lady Merrifield, producing the letter.
+
+'No,' said he, holding it up in the waning light.  'I know the fellow's
+fist too well!  This is a gentleman's hand.'
+
+'What a relief!' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Nay, don't be in a hurry,' said Miss Mohun.  'Don't give it to her
+unopened.  Your only safety is in maintaining your right to see all the
+child's letters, except what her father specified.'
+
+'Don't you wish it was you, Brownie?' asked her cousin.
+
+'I hate it!' said Lady Merrifield; 'but I suppose I ought!  However,
+there's no harm in this, that's a comfort; it is simply that the
+gentleman that the house is let to has found this note to her somewhere
+about, and thinks she would wish to have it.  I think it is her
+mother's hand.  How nice of him!'
+
+'Now, Lily, don't go and be too apologetic,' said Jane.  'Assert your
+right, or you'll have it all over again.'
+
+'Without Jenny to do prudence,' said Lord Rotherwood, while Lady
+Merrifield, hardly hearing either of them, hurried on in search of her
+niece, but they would have been satisfied if they could have heard her.
+
+'My dear, here's your letter.  I am so sorry to have been too much
+hindered to look at it before.  You must not mind, Dolly.  I know it is
+very disagreeable; but every one who has the care of precious articles
+like young ladies is bound to look after them.'
+
+Dolores took the letter with a kind of acknowledgement, but no more,
+for its detention offended her, and she was aggrieved at the prospect
+of future inspection, as another cruel stroke inflicted upon her.
+
+Aunt Adeline was found in the drawing-room, where she had entertained
+such ladies as were afraid of the damp, or who did not approve of the
+dancing, and would not look on at it.  Thence all went off to a merry
+meal, where the elders plunged into old stories, and went on capping
+each others' recollections and making fun, to the extreme delight of
+the young folk, who had often been entertained with tales of
+Beechcroft. Aunt Ada declared that she had not laughed so much for ten
+years, and Aunt Jane declared that it was too bad to lower their
+dignity and be so absurd before all these young things.
+
+'It's having four of the old set together!'  said Lord Rotherwood; 'a
+chance one doesn't get every day.  I wonder how soon Maurice and
+Phyllis will meet.'
+
+'It depends on whether the Zenobia touches at Auckland before going to
+the Fijis,' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'There is at least a sort of neighbourhood between them,' said Miss
+Mohun, 'though it may be about as close as between us and Sicily.'
+
+'She is looking out for Maurice,' said Aunt Ada.  'She wrote, only it
+was too late, to propose his bringing Dolores to be at least nearer to
+him.'
+
+'Just like Phyllis!' ejaculated the marquess.  'You have one of your
+flock with something of her countenance, Lily.'
+
+'I am so glad you see it, Rotherwood.  It is what I am always trying to
+believe in, and I hope the likeness is a little within as well as
+without--but we poor creatures who have been tumbled about the world
+get sophisticated, and can't attain to the sweet, blundering freshness
+of "Honest Simplicity."'
+
+'It is a plant that must be spontaneous--can't be grown to order.'
+
+'His lordship's carriage at the door,' announced Macrae.
+
+'Ah, well!  Trains must be caught, I suppose.  I'm glad you're settled
+here, Lilias.  I feel as if a sort of reflex of old Beechcroft were
+attainable now.'
+
+'I hope it won't be a G.F.S. day next time you come!'
+
+'Oh, it was very jolly.  I shall bring my child next time, if I can get
+her out of the clutches of the governesses for a day, but it is a hard
+matter.  They look daggers at me if I put my head into the schoolroom.'
+
+'You always were a dangerous element there, you know.'
+
+'Poor dear Eleanor!  What did I not make her go through!  But she never
+went the length of one of my lady's governesses, who declared that she
+had as much call to interfere in my stable, as I had with her
+schoolroom.'
+
+'What mischief were you doing there?'
+
+'Well, if you must know, I was enlivening a very dry and Cromwellian
+abridgement with some of Lily's old cavalier anecdotes, so Lily was at
+the bottom of it, you see.'
+
+'But did she fall on you then and there?'
+
+'No, no.  I trust my beard is too grey for that.  But she looked at me
+with impressive dignity such as neither poor little Fly nor I could
+stand, and afterwards betook herself to Victoria, who, I am happy to
+say, sent her to the right about.'
+
+'As I am about to do,' said Lady Merrifield; 'for if you don't miss
+your train, it will be by cruelty to animals.  No, you've not got time
+to shake hands with all that rabble.  Be off with you.'
+
+'Ah!  I shall tell Victoria that if she sees me tomorrow it's all owing
+to your unpitying punctuality,' said he, shaking himself into his
+overcoat.
+
+'Dear old fellow!' said Lady Merrifield, as she turned from the front
+door, while he drove off.  'He is like a gust of old Beechcroft air!
+But I should think Victoria had a handful.'
+
+'She knew what she was doing,' said Aunt Ada.  'I always thought she
+married him for the sake of breaking him in.'
+
+'And very well she has done it, too,' returned Aunt Jane.  'Only now
+and then he gets a holiday, and then the real creature breaks out
+again.  But it is much better so.  He would not have been of half so
+much good otherwise.'
+
+Lady Merrifield looked from one to the other, but said no more, for all
+the young folks were round her; but every one was so much tired,
+children, servants, and all, that prayers were read early, and all went
+to their rooms.  Yet, tired as she was,  Lady Merrifield sat on in her
+sister Jane's room, in her dressing-gown, talking according to another
+revival of olden time.
+
+'What did Ada mean about Rotherwood?  Isn't he happy?'
+
+'Oh yes, very happy; and it is much the best thing that could have
+happened.  It is only another of the proofs that life is very long,
+especially for men.'
+
+'Come, now, tell me all about it.  You don't know how often I feel as
+if I had been buried and dug up again.'
+
+'There are things one can't write about.  Poor fellow!  he never really
+wanted to marry anybody but Phyllis.'
+
+'No! you don't mean it!  I never knew it.'
+
+'No, for you were in the utmost parts of the earth; and he was very
+good, so that I don't believe honest Phyl herself, or any one without
+eyes, guessed it; but he had it all out with our father, who begged
+him, almost on that allegiance he had always shown, to abstain from
+beginning about it.  You see, not only are they first cousins, but our
+mother and his father both were consumptive, and there was dear Claude
+even then regularly breaking down every winter, and Ada needing to be
+looked after like a hothouse plan.  I'm sure, when I think of the last
+generation of Devereuxes, I wonder so many of us have been tough enough
+to weather the dangerous age; and there had been an alarm or two about
+Rotherwood himself.  Well, he was very good, half from obedience, half
+from being convinced that it would be a selfish thing, and especially
+from being wholly convinced that Phyl's feelings were not stirred.
+That was the way I came to know about it, for papa took me out for a
+drive in the old gig to ask what I thought about her heart, and I could
+truly and honestly say she had never found it, cared for Rotherwood
+just as she did for Reggie, and was not the sort to think whether a man
+was attentive to her.  Besides, she was eighteen, and he thirty-one,
+and she thought him venerable.  I believe, if he had asked her then,
+she might have taken him (because Cousin Rotherwood wished it), but she
+would have had to fall in love in the second place instead of the
+first.  Well, he was very good, poor old fellow, except that by way of
+taking himself off, and diverting his mind, he went dear-stalking with
+such unnecessary vehemence that a Scotch mist was very nearly the death
+of him, and he discovered that he had as many lungs as other people.
+If you could only have seen our dear old father then, how distressed
+and how guilty he felt, and how he used to watch Phyllis, and examine
+Alethea and me as to whether she seemed more than reasonably concerned
+for Rotherwood had come and hit the right nail on the head he might
+have carried her off.'
+
+'But he didn't.'
+
+'No; for, you see, he was ill enough to convince himself, as well as
+other people, that he was a consumptive Devereux after all.'
+
+'Oh yes!  I remember the shock with which I heard like a doom that he
+was going the way of the others; and hen he and the dear Claude came
+out in his yacht to us at Gibraltar, and were so bright!  We had a
+wonderful little journey into Spain together, and how Jasper enjoyed
+it!  Little did I think I was never to see Claude here again.  But it
+was true, was it not, that all Rotherwood's care gave the dear fellow
+much more comfort--perhaps kept him longer?'
+
+'I am sure it was so.  Rotherwood soon got over his own attachment--the
+missing an English winter was all he needed; but he would hear of
+nothing but devoting himself to Claude.  Papa and Claude were both
+uneasy at his going off from all his cares and duties, but I believe--
+and Claude knew it--that he actually could not settle down quietly
+while Phyllis remained unmarried, and that having Claude to nurse and
+carry about from climate was the comfort of his life.  Or, I believe,
+dear Claude would have been glad to have been left in peace to do what
+he could.  Well, then Phyllis and Ada went to stay in the Close with
+Emily, and Ada wrote conscious letters and came home bridling and
+blushing about Captain May, so that we were quite prepared for his
+turning up at Beechcroft, but not at all for what I saw before he had
+been ten minutes in the house, that it was Phyllis that he meant, and
+had meant all along!  Dear Harry! it almost made up for its not being
+Rotherwood.  Well, poor Ada!  It hadn't gone too deep, happily, and I
+opened her eyes in time to hinder any demonstration that could have
+left pain and shame--at least, I think so; but poor Ada has had too
+many little fits for one to have told much more than another.  I
+believe Phyl did tell Harry that he meant Ada, but she let herself be
+convinced to the contrary; and the only objection I have to it is his
+having taken that appointment at Auckland, and carried her out of reach
+of any of us.  However, it was better for Rotherwood, and when she was
+gone, and his occupation over with our dear Claude, his mother was
+always at him to let her see him married before she died.  And so he
+let her have her way.  No, don't look concerned.  Lady Rotherwood is an
+excellent, good woman, just the wife for him, and he knows it, and does
+as she tells him most faithfully and gratefully.  They are pattern-folk
+from top to toe, and so is the boy.  But the girl!  He would have his
+way, and named her Phyllis--Fly he calls her.  She is a little skittish
+elf--Rotherwood himself all over; and doesn't he worship her!  and
+doesn't he think it a holiday to carry her off to play pranks with!
+and isn't he happy to get amongst a good lot of us, and be his old self
+again!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MY PERSECUTED UNCLE
+
+
+
+Dolores was allowed to go to Casement Cottage on Sunday.  It was always
+rather an awful thing to her to get through the paddock when the
+farmer's cattle turned out there.  She did not mind it so much in the
+broad road and in the midst of a large party, with Hal among them, and
+no dogs; but alone with only one companion, and in the easy path which
+was the shortest way to the cottage, she winced and trembled at the
+little black, shaggy Scotch oxen, with white horns and faces that
+looked to her very wild and fierce.
+
+'Oh, Gillian, those creatures!  Can't we go the other way?'
+
+'No; it is a great deal further round, and there's no time.  They won't
+hurt.  The farmer engaged not to turn out anything vicious here.'
+
+'But how can he be sure?'
+
+'Well, don't come if you don't like it,' said Gillian, impatiently.
+'It is your own concern.  I must go.'
+
+Dolores did not like the notion of Constance being told that she would
+not come because she was afraid of the oxen.  She thought it very
+unkind of Gillian, but she came, and kept carefully on the side
+furthest from the formidable animals.  And Gillian really was
+forbearing.  She did make allowances for the London-bred girl's fears;
+and the only thing she did was, that when one of the animals lifted up
+its head and looked, and Dolores made a spring as if to run away, she
+caught the girl's arm, crying, 'Don't!  That's the very way to make him
+run after you.'
+
+They got safe out of the paddock at last, and rang at the door.  They
+were both kissed, Dolores with especial affectionateness, because the
+good ladies pitied her so much; and then while Miss Hacket and Gillian
+went off to their class, Constance took Dolores up into her own room,
+and began to tell her how disappointed she was not to have seen more of
+her at the Festival.
+
+'But those curates would not let me alone.  I was obliged to attend to
+them.'
+
+And then she was very eager to know all about Lord Rotherwood, which
+rather amazed Dolores, who had been in the habit of hearing her father
+mention him as 'that mad fellow Rotherwood,' while her mother always
+spoke with contempt of people who ran after lords and ladies, and had
+been heard to say that Lord Rotherwood himself was well enough, but his
+wife was a mere fine lady.
+
+But Dolores had a matter on which she was very anxious.
+
+'Connie, do they always read one's letters first?  I mean the old
+people, like Aunt Lily.'
+
+'What! has she been reading your letters?'
+
+'She says she always shall, except father's and Maude Sefton's, because
+papa spoke to her about that.  She took a letter of mine the other day,
+and never let me have it till the evening, and I am sure Aunt Jane put
+her up to it.'
+
+'You poor darling!' exclaimed Constance.  'Was it anything you cared
+about?'
+
+'Oh no--not that--but there might be.  And I want to know whether she
+has the right.'
+
+'I should not have thought Lady Merrifield would have been so like an
+old schoolmistress.  Miss Dormer always did, the old cat!  where I went
+to school,' said Constance.  'We did hate it so!  She looked over every
+one's letters, except parents', so that we never could have anything
+nice, except by a chance or so.'
+
+'It is tyranny,' said Dolores, solemnly.  'I do not see why one should
+submit to it.'
+
+'We had dodges,' continued Constance, warming with the history of her
+school-days, and far too eager to talk to think of the harm she might
+be doing to the younger girl.  'Sometimes, when a lot of us went to a
+shop with one of the governesses, one would slip out and post a letter.
+Fraulein was so short-sighted, she never guessed.  We used to call her
+the jolly old Kafer.  But Mademoiselle was very sharp.  She once caught
+Alice Bell, so that she had to make an excuse and say she had dropped
+something.  You see, she really had--the letter into the slit.'
+
+'But that was an equivocation.'
+
+'Oh, you darling scrupulous, long-worded child!  You aren't like the
+girls at Miss Dormer's, only she drove us to it, you know.  You'll be
+horribly shocked, but I'll tell you what Louie Preston did.  There was
+a young man in the town whom she had met at a picnic in the holidays--a
+clerk, he was, at the bank--and he used to put notes to her under the
+cushions at church; but one unlucky Sunday, Louie had a cold and didn't
+go, and she told Mabel Blisset to bring it, and Mabel didn't understand
+the right place, and went poking about, so that Miss Dormer found it
+out, and there was such a row!'
+
+'Wasn't that rather vulgar?' said Dolores.
+
+'Well, he was only a clerk, but he was a duck of a man, with regular
+auburn hair, you know.  And he sang!  We used to go to the Choral
+Society concerts, and he sang ballads so beautifully, and always looked
+at Louie!'
+
+'I should not care for anything of that sort,' said Dolores.  'I think
+it is bad form.'
+
+'So it is,' said Constance, seriously, 'only one can't help
+recollecting the fun of the thing, and what one was driven to in those
+days.  Is there any one you are anxious to correspond with?'
+
+'Not in particular, only I can't bear to have Aunt Lilias meddling with
+my letters; and there's a poor uncle of mine that I know would not like
+her, or any of the Mohuns, to see his letters.
+
+'Indeed!  Your poor mamma's brother?' cried Constance, full of
+curiosity.
+
+'Mind, it is in confidence.  You must never tell any one.'
+
+'Never.  Oh, you may trust me!' cried Constance.
+
+'Her half-brother,' said Dolores; and the girl proceeded to tell
+Constance what she had told Maude Sefton about Mr. Flinders, and how
+her mother had been used to assist  him out of her own earnings, and
+how he had met her at Exeter station, and was so disappointed to have
+missed her father.  Constance listened most eagerly, greatly delighted
+to have a secret confided to her, and promising to keep it with all her
+might.
+
+'And now,' said Dolores, 'what shall I do?  If poor Uncle Alfred writes
+to me, Aunt Lilias will have the letter and read it, and the Mohuns are
+all so stuck up; they will despise him, and very likely she will never
+let me have the letter.'
+
+'Yes, but, dear, couldn't you write here, with my things, and tell him
+how it is, and tell him to write under cover to me?'
+
+'Dear Connie!  How good you are!  Yes, that would be quite delightful!'
+
+All the confidences and all the caresses had, however, taken quite as
+long as the G.F.S. class, and before Constance had cleared a space on
+the table for Dolores's letter, there was a summons to say that Gillian
+was ready to go home.
+
+'So early!' said Constance.  'I thought you would have had tea and
+stayed to evening service.'
+
+'I should like it so much,' cried Dolores, remembering that it would
+spare her the black oxen in the cross-path, as well as giving her the
+time with her friend.
+
+So they went down with the invitation, but Gillian replied that mamma
+always liked to have all together for the Catechism, and that she could
+not venture to leave Dolores without special permission.
+
+'Quite right, my dear,' said Miss Hacket.  'Connie would be very sorry
+to do anything against Lady Merrifield's rules.  We shall see you again
+in a day or two.'
+
+And this is the way in which Constance kept her friend's secret.  When
+Miss Hacket had done her further work with a G.F.S. young woman who
+needed private instruction to prepare her for baptism, the two sisters
+sat down to a leisurely tea before starting for evensong; in the first
+place, Constance detailed all she had discovered as to the connection
+with Lord Rotherwood, in which subject, it must be confessed, good Miss
+Hacket took a lively interest, having never so closely encountered a
+live marquess, 'and so affable,' she contended; upon which Constance
+declared that they were all stuck-up, and were very unkind and hard to
+poor darling Dolores.
+
+'I don't know.  I cannot fancy dear Lady Merrifield being unkind to any
+one, especially a dear girl as good as an orphan,' said Miss Hacket,
+who, if not the cleverest of women, was one of the best and most warm-
+hearted.  'And, indeed, Connie, I don't think dear Gillian and Mysie
+feel at all unkindly to their cousin.'
+
+'Ah! that's just like you, Mary.  You never see more than the outside,
+but then I am in dear Dolly's confidence.'
+
+'What do you mean, Connie?' said Miss Hacket, eagerly.
+
+Constance had come home from school with the reputation of being much
+more accomplished than her elder sister, who had grown up while her
+father was a curate of very straitened means, and thus, though her
+junior, she was thought wonderfully superior in discernment and
+everything else.
+
+'Well,' said Constance, 'what do you think of Lady Merrifield sending
+her to bed for staying late here that morning?'
+
+'That was strict, certainly; but you know she sent Mysie too.  It was
+all my own thoughtlessness for detaining them,' said the good elder
+sister.  'I was so grieved!'
+
+'Yes,' said Constance, 'it sounds all very well to say Mysie was
+treated in the same way, but in the afternoon Mysie was allowed to go
+and make messes with blackberry jam, while poor Dolly was kept shut up
+in the schoolroom!'
+
+Constance did not like Lady Merrifield, who had unconsciously snubbed
+some of her affectations, and nipped in the bud a flirtation with
+Harry, besides calling off some of the curates to be helpful.  But Miss
+Hacket admired her neighbour as much as her sister would permit, and
+made answer--
+
+'It is so hard to judge, my dear, without knowing all.  Perhaps Mysie
+had finished her lessons.'
+
+'Ah!  I know you always are for Lady Merrifield!  But what do you say,
+then, to her prying into all that poor child's correspondence?'
+
+'My dear, I think most people do think it advisable to have some check
+on young girl's letters.  Perhaps Dolores's father desired it.'
+
+'He never put on any restrictions,' said Constance.  'I am sure he
+never would.  Men don't.  It is always women, with their nasty, prying,
+tyrannous instincts.'
+
+'I am sure,' returned Mary, 'one would not think a child like Dolores
+Mohun could have anything to conceal.'
+
+'But she has!' cried Constance.
+
+'No, my dear!  Impossible!' exclaimed Miss Hacket, looking very much
+shocked.  'Why, she can't be fourteen!'
+
+'Oh! it is nothing of that sort.  Don't think about that, Mary.'
+
+'No, no, I know, Connie dear; you would never listen to any young
+girl's confidence of that kind--so improper and so vulgar,' said Miss
+Hacket, and Constance did not think it necessary to reveal her
+knowledge of the post-office under the cushions at church, and other
+little affairs of that sort.
+
+'It is her uncle,' said Constance.  'Her mother, it seems, though quite
+a lady, was the daughter of a professor, a very learned man, very
+distinguished, and all that, but not a high family enough to please the
+Mohuns, and they never were friendly with her, or treated her as an
+equal.'
+
+'That couldn't have been Lady Merrifield,' persevered Miss Hacket.
+'She lamented to me herself that she had been out of England for so
+many years that she had scarcely seen Mrs. Maurice Mohun.'
+
+'Well, there were the Miss Mohuns and all the rest!' said Constance.
+'Why, Dolores has only once been at the family place.  And her mother
+had a brother, an author and a journalist, a very clever man, and the
+Mohuns have always regularly persecuted him.  He has been very
+unfortunate, and Mrs. Maurice Mohun has done her utmost to help him,
+writing in periodicals and giving the proceeds to him.  Wasn't that
+sweet?  And now Dolores feels quite cut off from him; and she is so
+fond of him, poor darling for her mother's sake.'
+
+Tender-hearted as Miss Hacket was, she had seen enough of life to have
+some inkling of what being very unfortunate might sometimes mean.
+
+'I should think,' she said, 'that Lady Merrifield would never withhold
+from the child any letter it was proper she should have, especially
+from a relation.'
+
+'Yes, but I tell you she did keep back a letter on the festival day
+till she had looked at it.  Poor Dolores saw it come, and she saw a
+glance pass between her and Miss Mohun, and she is quite sure, she
+says, her Aunt Jane had been poisoning her mind about this poor
+persecuted uncle, and that she shall never be allowed to hear from
+him.'
+
+'I don't suppose there can be much for him to say to her,' said Miss
+Hacket.  Then, after a little reflection, 'Connie, my dear, I really
+think you had better not interfere.  There may be reasons that this
+poor child knows nothing about for keeping her aloof from this uncle.'
+
+'Oh! but her mother helped him.'
+
+'She was his sister.  That was quite another thing.  Indeed, Connie,'
+said Miss Hacket, more earnestly, 'I am quite sure that you will use
+your influence--and you have a great deal of influence, you know--most
+kindly by persuading this dear child to be happy with the Merrifields
+and submit to their arrangements.'
+
+'You are infatuated with Lady Merrifield,' muttered Constance.  'Ah!
+how little you know!'
+
+Here the first warning note of the bell ended the discussion, and
+Constance did not think it necessary to tell her sister of the offer
+she had made to Dolores.  In her eyes, Mary, who was the eldest of the
+family, had always been of the dull, grown-up, authoritative faction of
+the elders, while she herself was still one of the sweet junior party,
+full of antagonism to them, and ready to elude them in any way.
+Besides, she had promised her darling Dolores; and the thing was quite
+romantic; nor could any one call it blame-worthy, since it was nothing
+like a lover--not even a young man, but only a persecuted uncle in
+distress.
+
+So she awaited anxiously the next Sunday when Dolores's letter was to
+be written in her room. To tell the truth, Dolores could quite as
+easily have written in her own, and brought down the letter in her
+pocket, if she had been eager about the matter; but she was not, except
+under the influence of making a grievance.  She had never written to
+Uncle Alfred in her life, nor he to her; and his visits to her mother
+had always led to something uncomfortable.  Nor would she have thought
+about the subject at all if it had not been for the sore sense that she
+was cut off from him, as she fancied, because he belonged to her
+mother.
+
+Nothing particular had happened that week.  There had been no very
+striking offences one way or the other; she was working better with her
+lessons and understanding more of Miss Vincent's methods.  She
+perceived that they were thorough, and respected them accordingly, and
+she had had the great satisfaction of getting more good marks for
+French and German than Mysie.  She had become interested in 'The Old
+Oak Staircase,' and began to look forward to Aunt Lily's readings as
+the best part of the day.  But she had not drawn in the least nearer to
+any of the family.  She absolutely disliked, almost hated, the quarter
+of an hour which Aunt Lily devoted to her religious teaching every
+morning, though nobody was present, not even Primrose.  She nearly
+refused to learn, and said as badly as possible the very small portions
+she was bidden to learn by heart, and she closed her mind up against
+taking in the sense of the very short readings and her aunt's comments
+on them.  It seemed to her to be treating her like a Sunday-school
+child, and insulting her mother, who had never troubled her in this
+manner.  Her aunt said no word of reproach, except to insist on
+attention and accuracy of repetition; but there came to be an unusual
+gravity and gentleness about her in these lessons, as if she were
+keeping a guard over herself, and often a greatly disappointed look,
+which exasperated Dolores much more than a scolding.
+
+Mysie had left off courting her cousin, finding that it only brought
+her rebuffs, and went her own way as before, pleased and honoured when
+Gillian would consort with her, but generally paring with her younger
+sister.
+
+Dolores, though hitherto ungracious, missed her attentions, and decided
+that they were 'all falseness.'  Wilfred absolutely did tease and annoy
+her whenever he could, Fergus imitated him, and Valetta enjoyed and
+abetted him.  These three had all been against her ever since the
+affair of the arrow; but Wilfred had not many opportunities of
+tormenting her, for in the house there was a perpetual quiet
+supervision and influence.  Mrs. Halfpenny was sure to detect traps in
+the passage, or bounces at the door.  Miss Vincent looked daggers if
+other people's lesson books were interfered with.  Mamma had eyes all
+round, and nobody dared to tease or play tricks in her presence.  Hal,
+Gillian, and even Mysie always thwarted such amiable acts as putting a
+dead wasp into a shoe, or snapping a book in the reader's face; while,
+as to venturing into the general family active games, Dolores would
+have felt it like rushing into a corobboree of savages!
+
+There was one wet afternoon when they could not even get as far as to
+the loft over the stables; at least the little ones could not have done
+so, and it was decided that it would be very cruel to them for all the
+others to run off, and leave them to Mrs. Halfpenny; so the plan was
+given up.
+
+Partly because Lady Merrifield thought it very amiable in Mysie and
+Valetta to make the sacrifice, and partly to disperse the thundercloud
+she saw gathering on Wilfred's brow, she not only consented to a
+magnificent and extraordinary game at wolves and bears all over the
+house, but even devoted herself to keeping Mrs. Halfpenny quiet by
+shutting herself into the nursery to look over all the wardrobes, and
+decide what was to 'go down' in the family, and what was to be given
+away, and what must be absolutely renewed.  It was an operation that
+Mrs. Halfpenny enjoyed so much, that it warranted her to be deaf to
+shrieks and trampling, and almost to forget the chances of gathers and
+kilting being torn out, and trap-doors appearing in skirts and
+pinafores.
+
+All that time Dolores sat hunched up in her own room, reading 'Clare,
+or No Home,' and realizing the persecutions suffered by that afflicted
+child, who had just been nearly drowned in rescuing her wickedest
+cousin, and was being carried into her noble grandfather's house, there
+to be recognized by her golden hair being exactly the colour it was
+when she was a baby.
+
+There were horrible growlings at times outside her door, and she bolted
+it by way of precaution.  Once there was a bounce against it, but
+Gillian's voice might be heard in the distance calling off the wolves.
+
+Then came a lull.  The wolves and bears had rushed up and down stairs
+till they were quite exhausted and out of breath, especially as
+Primrose had always been a cub, and gone in the arms of Hal or Gillian;
+Fergus at last had rolled down three steps, and been caught by Wilfred,
+who, in his character of bear, hugged and mauled him till his screams
+grew violent.  Harry had come to the rescue, and it was decided that
+there had been enough of this, and that there should be a grand
+exhibition of tableaux from the history of England in the dining-room,
+which of course mamma was to guess, with the assistance of any one who
+was not required to act.
+
+Mama, ever obliging, hastily condemned two or three sunburnt hats and
+ancient pairs of shoes, to be added to the bundle for Miss Hacket's
+distribution, and let herself be hauled off to act audience.
+
+'But where's Dolly?' she asked, as she looked at the assemblage on the
+stairs.
+
+'Bolted into her room, like a donkey,' said Wilfred, the last clause
+under his breath.
+
+'Indeed, mamma, we did ask her, and gave her the choice between wolves
+and bears,' said Mysie.
+
+'Unfortunately she is bear without choosing,' said Gill.
+
+'A sucking of her paws in a hollow tree,' chimed in Hal.
+
+'Hush! hush!' said Lady Merrifield, looking pained; 'perhaps the choice
+seemed very terrible to a poor only child like that.  We, who had the
+luck to be one of many, don't know what wild cats you may all seem to
+her.'
+
+'She never will play at anything,' said Val.
+
+'She doesn't know how to,' said Mysie.
+
+'And won't be taught,' added Wilfred.
+
+'But that's very dreadful,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield.  'Fancy a poor
+child of thirteen not knowing how to play.  I shall go and dig her
+out!'
+
+So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to which Dolores
+answered--
+
+'Can't you let me alone?  Go away,' thinking it a treacherous ruse of
+the enemy to effect an entrance; but when her aunt said--
+
+'Is there anything the matter, my dear?  Won't you let me in?'  she was
+obliged to open it.
+
+'No, there's nothing the matter,' she allowed.  'Only I wanted them to
+let me alone.'
+
+'They have not been rude to you, I hope.'
+
+Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention the bouncing, so she
+allowed that no one had been rude to her, but she hated romping, which
+she managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt for suffering
+it.
+
+However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said--
+
+'Ah! you have not been used to wholesome exercise in large families.  I
+dare say it seems formidable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale.
+I can't allow you to stay stuffed up there, poking over a book all the
+afternoon.  It is very bad for you.  We are going to have some
+historical tableaux.  They are to have one set, and I thought perhaps
+you and I would get up some for them to guess in turn.'
+
+Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she did not quite dare to
+say she did not choose to make herself ridiculous, and she knew there
+was authority in the tone, so she followed and endured.
+
+So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before the bright grate in the
+dining-room, and having his ears beautifully boxed.  Also Knut and the
+waves, which were graphically represented by letting the wind in under
+the drugget, and pulling it up gradually over his feet, but these,
+Mysie explained, were only for the little ones.  Rollo and his
+substitute doing homage to Charles the Simple, were much more
+effective; as Gillian in that old military cloak of her father's, which
+had seen as much service in the play-room as in the field, stood and
+scowled at Wilfred in the crown and mamma's ermine mantle, being
+overthrown by Harry at his full height.
+
+The excitement was immense when it was announced that mamma had a
+tableau to represent with the help of Dolores, who was really warming a
+little to the interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike being
+dressed up with one of the boy's caps with three ostrich feathers, to
+accompany her aunt in hood and cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who
+had, together with the bow and papa's old regimental sword, been
+borrowed to personate the robber of Hexham.  Everybody screamed with
+ecstasy except Fergus, who thought it very hard that he should not have
+been Prince Edward instead of a stupid girl.
+
+So, to content all parties, mama undertook to bring in as many as
+possible, and a series from the life of Elizabeth Woodville was
+accordingly arranged.
+
+She stood under the oak, represented by the hall chandelier, with
+Fergus and Primrose as her infant sons, and fascinated King Edward on
+the rocking-horse, which was much too vivant, for it reared as
+perpendicularly as it could, and then nearly descended on its nose, to
+mark the rider's feelings.
+
+Then, with her hair let down, which was stipulated for, though, as she
+observed, nothing would make it the right colour, she sat desolate on
+the hearth, surrounded by as many daughters as could be spared from
+being spectators, as her youngest son was born off from her maternal
+arms by a being as like a cardinal as a Galway cloak, disposed tippet
+fashion, could make him.
+
+She could not be spared to put up her hair again before she had to
+forget her maternal feelings and be mere audience, while her two sons
+were smothered by Mysie and Dolores, converted into murderers one and
+two by slouched hats.  Fergus, a little afraid of being actually
+suffocated, began to struggle, setting off Wilfred, and the adventure
+was having a conclusion, which would have accounted for the authentic
+existence of Perkin Warbeck, when--oh horror! there was a peal at the
+door-bell, and before there was a moment for the general scurry,
+Herbert the button-boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted
+Mr. Leadbitter, to whom, as a late sixth standard boy, he had a special
+allegiance, and, having spied him coming, hurried to let him in out of
+the rain instantly.
+
+At least, such was the charitable interpretation.  Harry strongly
+suspected that the imp had been a concealed spectator all the time, and
+had particularly relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which,
+after all, was much greater on the part of the Vicar than any one else,
+as he was a rather stiff, old-fashioned gentleman.  Lady Merrifield
+only laughed, said she had been beguiled into wet day sports with the
+children, begged him to excuse her for a moment or two, and tripped
+away, followed by Gillian to help her, quickly reappearing in her lace
+cap as the graceful matron, even before Mr. Leadbitter had quite done
+blushing and quoting to Harry 'desipere in loco,' as he was assisted
+off with his dripping, shiny waterproof.
+
+After all no harm would have been done if--Harry and Gillian being both
+off guard--Valetta had not exclaimed most unreasonably in her
+disappointment--
+
+'I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores came in for it.'
+
+'Yes, Mr. Murderer, you squashed my little finger and all but smothered
+me,' cried Fergus, throwing himself on Dolores and dropping her down.
+
+'Don't! don't! you know you mustn't,' screamed valiant Mysie, flying to
+the rescue.
+
+'Murderers!  Murderers must be done for,' shouted Wilfred, falling upon
+Mysie.
+
+'You shan't hurt my Mysie,' bellowed Valetta, hurling herself upon
+Wilfred.
+
+And there they were all in a heap, when Gillian, summoned by the
+shrieks, came down from helping her mother, pulled Valetta off Wilfred,
+Wilfred off Mysie, Mysie off Fergus, and Fergus off Dolores, who was
+discovered at the bottom with an angry, frightened face, and all her
+hair standing on end.
+
+'Are you hurt, Dolores? I am very sorry,' said Gillian.  'It was very
+naughty.  Go up to the nursery, Fergus and Val, and be made fit to be
+seen.'
+
+They obeyed, crestfallen.  Dolores felt herself all over.  It would
+have been gratifying to have had some injury to complain of, but she
+had fallen on the prince's cushions, and there really was none.  So she
+only said, 'No, I'm not hurt, though it is a wonder;' and off she
+walked to bolt herself into her own room again, there to brood on
+Valetta's speech.
+
+It worked up into a very telling and pathetic history for Constance's
+sympathizing ears on Sunday, especially as it turned out to be one of
+the things not reported to mamma.
+
+And on that day, Dolores, being reminded of it by her friend, sent a
+letter to Mr. Flinders to the office of the paper for which he worked
+in London, to tell him that if he wished to write to her as he had
+promised he must address under cover to Miss Constance Hacket, Casement
+Cottage, as otherwise Aunt Lilias would certainly read all his letters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+LETTERS
+
+
+
+Constance Hacket was very much excited about the address to Dolores's
+letter to her uncle.  She had not noticed it at the moment that it was
+written, but she did when she posted it; and the next time she could
+get her young friend alone, she eagerly demanded what Mr. Flinders had
+to do with the Many Tongues, and why her niece wrote to him at the
+office.
+
+'He writes the criticisms,' said Dolores, magnificently; for though she
+despised pluming herself on any connection with a marquess, she did
+greatly esteem that with the world of letters.  'You know we are all
+literary.'
+
+'Oh yes, I know!  But what kind of criticisms do you mean?  I suppose
+it is a very clever paper?'
+
+'Of course it it,' said Dolores, 'but I don't think I ever saw it.
+Father never takes in society papers. I believe he does criticisms on
+plays and novels.  I know he always has tickets for all the theatres
+and exhibitions.
+
+She did not say how she did know it, for a pang  smote her as she
+remembered dimly a scene, when her father had forbidden her mother to
+avail herself of escort thus obtained.  Nor was she sure that the word
+all was accurately the fact; but it was delightful to impress
+Constance, who cried, 'How perfectly delicious! I suppose he can get
+any article into his paper!'
+
+'Oh yes, of course,' said Dolores.
+
+'Did your dear mother write in it?'
+
+'No; it was not her line. She used to write metaphysical and scientific
+articles in the first-class reviews and magazines, and the Many Tongues
+is what they call a society paper, you know.'
+
+'Oh yes, I know.  There are charming things about the Upper Ten
+Thousand.  They tell all that is going on, but I hardly ever can see
+one.  Mary won't take in anything about Church Bells, and we get the
+Guardian when it is a week old, and my brother James has done with it.'
+
+'Dear me!  How dreadful!'  said Dolores, who had been used to see all
+manner of papers come in as regularly as hot rolls.  'Why, you never
+can know anything!  We didn't take in society papers, because father
+does not care for gossip or grandees.  He has other pursuits.  I can
+show you some of dear mother's articles. There's one called
+'Unconscious Volition,' and another on the 'Progress of Species.'  I'll
+bring them down next time I come.'
+
+'Have you read them?'
+
+'No; they are too difficult.  Mother was so very clever, you know.'
+
+'She must have been,' said Constance, with a sigh; 'but how did she get
+them published?'
+
+'Sent them to the editor, of course,' said Dolores.  'They all knew
+her, and were glad to get anything that she wrote.'
+
+'Ah!  that is what it is to have an introduction,' sighed Constance.
+
+'What! have you written anything?' cried Dolores.
+
+'Only a few little trifles,' said Constance, modestly.  'It is a great
+secret, you know, a dead secret.'
+
+'Oh! I'll keep it.  I told you my secret, you know, so you might tell
+me yours.'
+
+And so to Dolores were confided sundry verses and tales on which
+Constance had been wont to spend a good deal of her time in that pretty
+sitting-room.  She had actually sent her manuscripts to magazines, but
+she had heard no more of one, and the other had been returned declined
+with thanks--all for want of an introduction.  Dolores was delighted to
+promise that as soon as she heard from Uncle Alfred, she would get him
+to patronize them, and the reading occupied several Sunday afternoons.
+Dolores suggested, however, that a goody-goody story about a choir-boy
+lost in the snow would never do for the Many Tongues, and a far more
+exciting one was taken up, called 'The Waif of the Moorland,' being the
+story of a maiden, whom a wicked step-mother was suspected of
+murdering, but who walked from time to time like the 'Woman in White.'
+There was only too much time for the romance; for weeks passed and
+there was no answer from Mr. Flinders.  It was possible that he might
+have broken off his connection with the paper, only then the letter
+would probably have been returned; and the other alternative was less
+agreeable, that it was not worth his while to write to his niece.
+While as to Maude Sefton, nothing was heard of her.  Were her letters
+intercepted?  And so the winter side of autumn set in.  Hal was gone to
+Oxford, and there had been time for letters to come from Mr. Mohun,
+posted from Auckland, New Zealand, where he had made a halt with his
+sister, Mrs. Harry May, otherwise Aunt Phyllis.  Dolores was very much
+pleased to receive her letter, and to have it all to herself; but,
+after all, she was somewhat disappointed in it, for there was really
+nothing in it that might not have been proclaimed round the breakfast-
+table, like the public letters from that quarter of the family who were
+at Rawul Pindee.  It told of deep-sea soundings and investigations into
+the creatures at the bottom of the sea, of Portuguese men-of-war, and
+albatrosses; and there were some orders to scientific-instrument makers
+for her to send to them--a very improving letter, but a good deal like
+a book of travels.  Only at the end did the writer say, 'I hope my
+little daughter is happy among her cousins, and takes care to give her
+aunt no trouble, and to profit by her kind care.  Your three cousins
+here, Mary, Lily, and Maggie, are exceedingly nice girls, and much
+interested about you; indeed, they wish I had brought you with me.'
+
+Dolores read her letter over and over and over, for the pleasure of
+having something all to herself, and never communicated a word about
+the miscroscopic monsters her father had described, but she drew her
+head back and reflected, 'He little knows,' when he spoke of her being
+happy among her cousins.
+
+Lady Merrifield likewise received a letter, about which she did not say
+much to her children, but Miss Mohun, who had had a much longer one,
+came over for the day to read this to her sister.  In point of fact,
+she had paired in childhood with her brother Maurice.  She had been his
+correspondent in school and college days, and being a person never
+easily rebuffed, she had kept up more intercourse with him and his wife
+than any others of the family had done, and he had preserved the habit
+of writing to her much more freely and unreservedly than to any one
+else.  So the day after the New Zealand letters came, just as the
+historical reading and needlework were in full force, the schoolroom
+door was opened, and a brisk little figure stood there in sealskin coat
+and hat.
+
+Up jumped mamma.  'Oh! Jenny!  Brownie indeed!  How did you come?  You
+didn't walk from the station?'
+
+'Yes, why not?  Otherwise I should have been too soon, and have
+disturbed the lessons,' said Aunt Jane, in the intervals of the
+greeting kisses.  'All well with the Indian folks?'
+
+'Oh yes; they've come back from the emerald valleys of Cashmere, and
+Alethea has actually sent me a primrose--just like an English one--that
+they found growing there.  They did enjoy it so.  Have you heard from
+Maurice?'
+
+'Yes, I thought you would like to hear about Phyllis, so, having
+enjoyed it with Ada, I brought it over for further enjoyment with you.'
+
+'That's a dear old Brownie!  We've a good hour before dinner.  Shall we
+read it to the general public, or shall we adjourn to the drawing-
+room?'
+
+"Oh!  I assure you it is very instructive.  Quite as much so as Miss
+Sewell's 'Rome.'"
+
+And Aunt Jane, whom Gillian had aided in disrobing herself of her
+outdoor garments, was installed by the fire, and unfolded a whole
+volume of thin, mauve sheets in Mr. Mohun's tiny Greek-looking
+handwriting.
+
+It was a sort of journal of his voyage.  There were all the same
+accounts of the minute creatures that are incipient chalk, and their
+exquisite cells, made, some of coral, some of silex spicule from
+sponges; the some descriptions of phosphorescent animals, meduse, and
+the like, that Dolores had thought her own special treasure and
+privilege, only a great deal fuller, and with the scientific terms
+untranslated--indeed, Aunt Jane had now and then to stop and explain,
+since she had always kept up with the course of modern discovery.
+There was also much more about his shipmates, with one or two of whom
+Mr. Mohun had evidently made great friends.  He told his sister a great
+deal about them, and his conversations with them, whereas he had only
+told Dolores abut one little midshipman getting into a scrape.  Perhaps
+nothing else was to be expected, but it made her feel the contrast
+between being treated with real confidence and as a mere child, and it
+seemed to put her father further away from her than ever.
+
+Then came the conclusion, written on shore--
+
+'Harry May came on board to take me home with him.  He is a fine,
+genial fellow and his welcome did one's heart good.  I never did him
+justice before; but I see his good sense and superiority called into
+play out here.  Depend upon it, there's nothing like going to the other
+end of the world to teach the value of home ties.'
+
+'Well done, Maurice,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield; but she glanced at
+Dolores and checked herself.
+
+Miss Mohun went on, 'Phyllis met me at the door of a pleasant, English-
+looking house, with all her tribe about her.  She has the true 'honest
+Phyl' face still, carrying me back over some thirty or forty years of
+life, and as you would imagine, she is a capital mother, with all her
+flock well in hand, and making themselves thoroughly useful in the
+scarcity of servants; though the other matters do not seem neglected.
+The eldest can talk like a well informed girl, and shows reasonable
+interest in things in general; but Phyllis wants to put finishing
+touches to their education, and her husband talks of throwing up his
+appointment before long, as he is anxious to go home while his father
+lives.  I wish I had gone to Stoneborough before coming out here, now
+that I see what a gratification it would have been if I could have
+brought a fresh report of old Dr. May. (Somehow, I think there has been
+a numbness or obtuseness about me all these last two years which
+hindered me from perceiving or doing much that I now regret, since
+either the change or the wholesome atmosphere of this house has wakened
+me as it were.  Among these ungracious omissions is what I now am much
+concerned to think of, that I never went to see Lilias when I committed
+my child to her charge; nor talked over her disposition.  Not that I
+really understand it as I ought to have done when the poor child was
+left to me.  I take shame to myself when Phyllis questions me about
+her), but as I watch these children with their parents I am quite
+convinced that the being taken under Lily's motherly wing is by far the
+best thing that could have befallen Dolores, and that my absence is for
+her real benefit as well as mine.'
+
+The part between brackets was omitted by Miss Mohun in the public
+reading, but the last sentence she did read, thinking it good for both
+parties to hear it.  However, Dolores both disliked the conclusion to
+which her father had come, and still more that her aunt and cousins
+should hear it, though, after all, it was only Gillian and Mysie who
+remained to listen by the time the end of the letter was reached.  The
+long words had frightened away Valetta as soon as her appointed task of
+work was finished.
+
+Aunt Lily did not see the omitted sentence till the two sisters were
+alone together later in the afternoon.  It filled her eyes with tears.
+'Poor Maurice,' she said; 'he wrote something of the same kind to me.'
+
+'I expect we shall see him wonderfully shaken up and brightened when he
+comes home. The numbness he talks of was half of it Mary's dislike to
+us all, only I never would let her keep me aloof from him.'
+
+'I almost wish he had taken Dolores out to Phyllis.  I am not in the
+least fulfilling his ideal towards her.'
+
+'Nor would Phyllis, unless the voyage had had as much effect on her as
+it seems to have had upon Maurice.  So you don't get on any better?'
+
+'Not a bit.  It is a case of parallel lines. We don't often have
+collisions--unless Wilfred gets an opportunity of provoking her.'
+
+'Why don't you send that boy to school?'
+
+'I shall after Christmas.  He is quite well now, and to have him at
+home is bad both for himself and the others.  He needs licking into
+shape as only boys can do to one another, and he is not a model for
+Fergus, especially since Harry has been away.'
+
+'What does he do?'
+
+'Nothing very brilliant, nor of the kind one half forgives for the
+drollery of it.  Putting mustard into the custard was the worst, I
+think; inciting the dogs to bring the cattle down on the girls when
+they cross the paddock; shutting up their books when the places are
+found--those are the sort of things; putting that very life-like wild
+cat chauffe-pied with glaring eyes in Dolly's bed.  I believe he does
+such things to all, but his sisters would let him torture them rather
+than complain, whereas Dolores does her best to bring them under my
+notice without actually laying an information, which she is evidently
+afraid to do.  It is very unlucky that her coming should have been just
+when we had such an element about--for it really gives her some just
+cause of complaint.'
+
+'But you say he is impartial?'
+
+'Teasing is unfortunately his delight.  He will even frighten Primrose,
+but I am afraid there is active dislike making Dolores his favourite
+victim; and then Val and Fergus, who don't tease actively on their own
+account, have come to enjoy her discomfiture.'
+
+"And you go on the principle of  'tolerer beaucoup?'"
+
+'I do; hoping that it is not laziness and weakness that makes me
+abstain from nagging about what is not brought before my eyes by the
+children or the police--I mean Gill, Halfpenny, and Miss Vincent.  Then
+I scold, or I punish, and that I think maintains the principle, without
+danger to truth or forbearance.  At least, I hope it does.  I am pretty
+sure that if I punished Wilfred for every teasing trick I know, or
+guess at, he would--in his present mood--only become deceitful, and
+esprit de corps  might make Val and Fergus the same, though I don't
+think Mysie's truth could be shaken any more than honest Phyl's.'
+
+'Besides, mutual discipline is not a thing to upset.  Lily, I revere
+you! I never thought you were going to turn out such a sensible
+mother.'
+
+'Well, you see, the difficulty is, that what may work for one's own
+children may not work for other people's.  And I confess I don't
+understand her persistent repulse of Mysie.'
+
+'Nor of you, the nasty little cat!' said Aunt Jane, with a little
+fierce shake of the head.
+
+'I do understand that a little.  I am too unlike Mary for her to stand
+being mothered by me.'
+
+'There must be some other influence at work for this perverseness to
+keep on so long.  Tell me, did she take up with that very goosey girl,
+that Miss Hacket?'
+
+'Oh yes; she goes there every Sunday afternoon.  It is the only thing
+the poor child seem much to care about, and I don't think there can be
+any harm in it.'
+
+'Humph! the folly of girl is unfathomable!  Oh! you may say what you
+like--you who have thrown yourself into your daughters and kept them
+one with you.  You little know in your innocence the product of an ill-
+managed boarding-school!'
+
+'Nay,' said Lady Merrifield, a little hotly, 'I do know that Miss
+Hacket is one of the most excellent people in the world, a little
+tiresome and borne, perhaps, but thoroughly good, and every inch a
+lady.'
+
+'Granted, but that's not the other one--Constance is her name?  My
+dear, I saw her goings on at the G.F.S. affair--If she had only been a
+member, wouldn't I have been at her.'
+
+'My dear Jenny, you always had more eyes to your share than other
+people.'
+
+'And you think that being an old maid has not lessened their sharpness,
+eh!  Lily?  Well, I can't help it, but my notion is that the sweet
+Constance--whatever her sister may be--is the boarding-school miss a
+little further developed into sentiment and flirtation.'
+
+'Nay, but that would be so utterly uncongenial to a grave, reserved,
+intellectual girl, brought up as Dolores has been.'
+
+'Don't trust to that!  Dolores is an interesting orphan, and the notice
+of a grown-up young lady is so flattering that it carries off a great
+deal of folly.'
+
+'Well, Jenny, I must think about it.  I hope I have done no harm by
+allowing the friendship--the only indulgence she has seemed to wish
+for; and I am afraid checking it would only alienate he still more!
+Poor Maurice, when he is trusting and hoping in vain!'
+
+'Three year is a long time, Lily; and you have no had three months of
+her yet--'
+
+The door opened at that moment for the afternoon tea, which was earlier
+than usual, to follow of Miss Mohun's reaching the station in time for
+her train.  Lady Merrifield was to drive her, and it was the turn of
+Dolores to go out, so that she shared the refection instead of waiting
+for gouter.  In the midst the Miss Hackets were announced, and there
+were exclamations of great joy at the sight of Miss Mohun; as she and
+Miss Hacket flew upon each other, and to the very last moment,
+discussed the all-engrossing subject of G.F.S. politics.
+
+Nevertheless, while Miss Mohun was hurrying on her sealskin in her
+sister's room, she found an opportunity of saying, 'Take care, Lily, I
+saw a note pass between those two.'
+
+'My dear Jenny, how could you?  You were going on the whole time about
+cards and premiums and associates.  Oh! yes, I know a peacock or a lynx
+is nothing to you, but how was it possible?  Why, I was making talk to
+Constance all along,  and trying to make Dolly speak of her father's
+letter.'
+
+'I might retort by talking of moles and bats!  Did you never hear of
+the London clergyman whose silver cream-jug, full of cream too, was
+abstracted by the penitent Sunday school boy whom he was exhorting over
+his breakfast-table?'
+
+'I don't believe London curates have silver jugs or cream either!'
+
+'A relic of past wealth, like St. Gregory's one silver dish, and
+perhaps it was milk.  Well, to descend to particulars.  It was done
+with a meaning glance, as Dolores was helping her on with her cloud,
+and was instantly disposed of in the pocket.'
+
+'I wonder what I ought to do about it,' sighed Lady Merrifield, 'If I
+had seen it myself I should have no doubts.  Oh!  if Jasper were but
+here!  And yet it is hardly a thing to worry him about.  It is most
+likely to be quite innocent.'
+
+'Well, then you can speak of the appearance of secrecy as bad manners.
+You will have her all to yourself as you go home.'
+
+But when the aunts came downstairs, Dolores was not there.  On being
+called, she sent a voice down, over the balusters, that she was not
+going.
+
+Aunt Jane shrugged her shoulders.  There was barely time to reach the
+train, so that it was impossible to do anything at the moment; but in
+the Merrifield family bad manners and disrespect were never passed
+over, Sir Jasper having made his wife very particular in that respect;
+and as soon as  she came home in the twilight, she looked into the
+school-room, but Dolores was not there, and then into the drawing-room,
+where she was found learning her lessons by firelight.
+
+'My dear, why did you not go with your Aunt Jane and me?'
+
+'I did not want to go.  It was so cold,' said Dolores in a glum tone.
+
+'Would it not have been kinder to have found that out sooner?  If I had
+not met the others in the paddock, and picked up Valetta, the chance
+would have been missed, and you knew she wanted to go.'
+
+Dolores knew it well enough.  The reason she was in this room was that
+all the returning party had fallen upon her; Wilfred had called her a
+dog in the manger, and Gillian herself had not gainsayed him--but the
+general indignation had only made her feel, 'what a fuss about the
+darling.'
+
+'Another time, too,' added Lady Merrifield, 'remember that it would be
+proper to come down and speak to me instead of shouting over the
+balusters in that unmannerly way; without so much as taking leave of
+your Aunt Jane. If she had not been almost late for her train, I should
+have insisted.'
+
+'You might, and I should not have come if you had dragged me,' thought,
+but did not say, Dolores.  She only stood looking dogged, and not
+attempting the 'I beg your pardon,' for which her aunt was waiting.
+
+'I think,' said Lady Merrifield, gently, 'that when you consider it a
+little, you will see that it would be well to be more considerate and
+gracious. And one thing more, my dear, I can have no passing of private
+notes between you and Constance Hacket.  You see a good deal of each
+other openly, and such doings are very silly and missish, and have an
+underhand appearance such as I am sure your father would not like.'
+
+Dolores burst out with, 'I didn't,' and as Primrose at this instant ran
+in to help mamma take off her things, she turned on her heel and went
+away, leaving Lady Merrifield trusting to a word never hitherto in that
+house proved to be false, rather than to those glances of Aunt Jane,
+which had been always held in the Mohun family to be a little too
+discerning and ubiquitous to be always relied on; and it was a
+satisfactory recollection that at the farewell moment when Miss Jane
+professed to have observed the transaction, she had been heard saying,
+'Yes, it will never do to be too slack in inquiring into antecedents,
+or the whole character of the society will be given up,' and with her
+black eyes fixed full upon Miss Hacket's face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE EVENING STAR
+
+
+
+'Oh, Connie dear, I had such a fright!  Do you know you must never
+venture to give me anything when any one is there--especially Aunt
+Jane. I am sure it was her.  she is always spying about?'
+
+'Well, but dearest Dolly, I couldn't tell that she would be there, and
+when I got your letter I could not keep it back, you know, so I made
+Mary come up and call on Lady Merrifield for the chance of being able
+to give it to you--and I thought it was so lucky Miss Mohun was there,
+for she and Mary were quite swallowed up in their dear G.F.S.'
+
+'You don't know Aunt Jane!  And the worst of it is she always makes
+Aunt Lilias twice as cross!  I  did get into such a row only because I
+didn't want to go driving with the two old aunts in the dark and cold,
+and be scolded all the way there and back.'
+
+'When you had a letter to read too!'
+
+'And then Aunt Lily said all manner of cross things about giving notes
+between us.  I was so glad I could say I didn't, for you know I didn't
+give it to you, and it wasn't between us.'
+
+'You cunning child!' laughed Constance, rather amused at the sophistry.
+
+'Besides,' argued Dolores, 'what right has she to interfere between my
+uncle and my friends and me?
+
+'You dear!  Yes, it is all jealousy!'
+
+'I have heard--or I have read,' said Dolores, 'that when people ask
+questions they have no right to put, it is quite fair to give them a
+denial, or at least to go as near the wind  as one can.'
+
+'To be sure,' assented Constance, 'or one would not get on at all!  But
+you have no told me a word about your letters.'
+
+'Father's letter?  Oh, he tells me a great deal about his voyage, and
+all the funny creatures they get up with the dredge.  I think he will
+be sure to write a book about them, and make great discoveries.  And
+now he is staying with Aunt Phyllis in New Zealand, and he is thinking,
+poor father, how well off I must be with Aunt Lilias.  He little
+knows!'
+
+'Oh, but you could write to him, dearest!'
+
+'He wouldn't get the letter for so long.  Besides, I don't think I
+could say anything he would care about.  Gentlemen don't, you know.'
+
+'No!  gentlemen can't enter into our feelings, or know what it is to be
+rubbed against and never appreciated.  But your uncle! Was the letter
+from him?'
+
+'Oh yes!  And where do you think he is?  At Darminster--editing a paper
+there.  It is called the Darminster Politician.  He said he sent a copy
+here.'
+
+"Oh yes, I know; Mary and I could not think where it came from.  It had
+a piece of a story in it, and some poetry. I wonder if he would put in
+my 'Evening Star.'"
+
+'You may read his letter if you like; you see he says he would run over
+to see me if it were not for the dragons.'
+
+'I wish he could come and meet you here.  It would be so romantic, but
+you see Mary is half a dragon herself, and would be afraid of Lady
+Merrifield'--then, reading the letter,--'How droll!  How clever!  What
+a delightful man he must be!  How very strange that all your family
+should be so prejudiced against him!  I'll tell you what, Dolores, I
+will write and subscribe for the Darminster Politician my own self--I
+must see the rest of that story--and then Mary can't make any
+objection; I can't stand never seeing anything but Church Bells, and
+then you can read it too, darling.'
+
+'Oh, thank you, Connie.  Then I shall have got him one subscriber, as
+he asks me to do. I am afraid I shan't get any more, for I thought Aunt
+Lily was in a good humour yesterday, and I put one of the little
+advertisement papers he sent out on the table, and she found it, and
+only said something about wondering who had sent the advertisement of
+that paper that Mr. Leadbitter didn't approve of.  She is so dreadfully
+fussy and particular.  She won't let even Gillian read anything she
+hasn't looked over, and she doesn't like anything that isn't goody
+goody.'
+
+'My poor darling!  But couldn't you write and get your uncle to look at
+some of my poor little verses that have never seen the light?'
+
+'I dare say I could,' said Dolores, pleased to be able to patronize.
+'Oh, but you must not write on both sides of the paper, I know, for
+father and mother were always writing for the press.'
+
+'Oh, I'll copy them out fresh!  Here's the 'Evening Star.'  It was
+suggested by the sound of the guns firing at the autumn manoevres;
+here's the  'Bereaved Mother's Address to her Infant:'
+
+
+                'Sweet little bud of stainless white,
+                 Thou'lt blossom in the garden of light.'
+
+
+'Mary thought that so sweet she asked Miss Mohun to send it to Friendly
+Leaves, but she wouldn't--Miss Mohun I mean; she said she didn't think
+they would accept it, and that the lines didn't scan.  Now I'm sure its
+only Latin and Greek that scan!  English rhymes, and doesn't scan!
+That's the difference!'
+
+'To be sure!' said Dolores, 'but Aunt Jane always does look out for
+what nobody else cares about.  Still I wouldn't send the baby-verses to
+Uncle Alfred, for they do sound a little bit goody, and the 'Evening
+Star' would be better.'
+
+The verses were turned over and discussed until the summons came to
+tea, poured out by kind old Miss Hacket, who had delighted in providing
+her young guests with buttered toast and tea cakes.
+
+Dolores went home quite exhilarated and unusually amiable.
+
+Her letter to her father was finished the next day.  It contained the
+following information.
+
+'Uncle Alfred is at Darminster.  He is sub-editor to the Politician,
+the Liberal county paper.  I do not  suppose Aunt Lilias will let me
+see him, for she does not like anything that dear mother did. There is
+a childish obsolete tone of mind here; I suppose it is because they
+have never lived in London, and the children are all so young of their
+age, and so rude, Wilfred most especially.  Even Gillian, who is
+sixteen, likes quite childish games, and Mysie, who is my age, is a
+mere child in tastes, and no companion.  I do wish I could have gone
+with you.'
+
+Lady Merrifield wrote by the same mail, 'Your Dolores is quite well,
+and shows herself both clever and well taught.  Miss Vincent thinks
+highly of her abilities, and gets on with her better than any one else,
+except the daughter of our late Vicar, for whom she has set up a strong
+girlish friendship.  She plainly has very deep affections, which are
+not readily transferred to new claimants, but I feel sure that we shall
+get on in time.'
+
+Miss Mohun wrote, 'Lily and I enjoyed your letter together.  Dolly
+looks all the better for country life, though I am afraid she has not
+learnt to relish it, nor to assimilate with the Merrifield children as
+I expected.  I don't think Lily has quite fathomed her as yet, but
+'cela viendra' with patience, only mayhap not without a previous
+explosion.  I fancy it takes a long time for an only child to settle in
+among a large family.  It was a great pity you could not see Lily
+yourself.  To my dismay I encountered Flinders in the street at
+Darminster last week.  I believe he is on the staff of a paper there,
+happily Dolly does not know it, nor do I think he knows where she is.'
+
+In another three weeks, Constance was in the utmost elation, for 'On
+hearing the cannonade of the Autumn Manoeuvres' was in print, and Miss
+Hacket was so much delighted that justice should be done to her
+sister's abilities, that she forgot Mr. Leadbitter's disapproval, and
+ordered half a dozen copies of the Politician for the present, and one
+for the future.
+
+Dolores, walking home in the twilight, could not help showing Gillian,
+in confidence, the precious slip, though it was almost too dark to read
+the small type.
+
+'Newspaper poetry, I thought that always was trumpery,' said Gillian,
+making a youthfully sweeping assertion.
+
+'Many great poets have begun with a periodical press,' said Dolores,
+picking up a sentence which she had somewhere read.
+
+'I thought you hated English poetry, Dolly!  You always grumble at
+having to learn it.'
+
+'Oh, that is lessons.'
+
+"'Il Penseroso,' for instance."
+
+'This is a very different thing.'
+
+'That it certainly is,' said Gillian, beginning to read--
+
+
+              'How lovely mounts the evening star
+               Climbing the sunset skies afar.'
+
+
+'What a wonderful evening!  Why, the evening star was going up
+backward!'
+
+'You only want to make nonsense of it.'
+
+'It is not I that make nonsense!' said Gillian, 'why, don't you see,
+Dolly, which way the sun and everything moves?'
+
+'This is the evening star,' said Dolores, sulkily.  'It was just
+rising.'
+
+'I do believe you think it rises in the west.'
+
+'You always see it there.  You showed it to me only last Sunday.'
+
+'Do you think it had just risen?'
+
+'Of course the stars rise when the sun sets.'
+
+Gillian could hardly move for laughing.  'My dear Dolores, you to be
+daughter to a scientific man!  Don't you know that the stars are in the
+sky, going on all the time, only we can't see them till the sunlight is
+gone?'
+
+But Dolores was too much offended to attend, and only grunted.  She
+wanted to get the cutting away from Gillian, but there was no doing so.
+
+
+              'The mist is rising o'er the mead,
+               With silver hiding grass and reed;
+               'Tis silent all, on hill and heath,
+               The evening winds, they hardly breathe;
+               What sudden breaks the silent charm,
+               The echo wakes with wild alarm.
+               With rapid, loud, and furious rattle,
+               Sure 'tis the voice of deadly battle,
+               Bidding the rustic swain to fly
+               Before his country's enemy.'
+
+
+'Did anybody ever hear of a sham fight in the evening?' cried the
+soldier's daughter indignantly.  'There, I can't see any more of it.'
+
+'Give it to me, then.'
+
+'You are welcome!  Where did it come from?  Let me look.  C.H.  Oh, did
+Constance Hacket write it?  Nobody else could be so delicious, or so
+far superior to Milton.'
+
+'You knew it all the time, and that was the reason you made game of
+it.'
+
+'No, indeed it was not, Dolores.  I did not guess.  You should have
+told me at first.'
+
+'You would have gone on about it all the same.'
+
+'No, indeed, I hope not.  I did not mean to vex you; but how was I to
+know it was so near your heart?'
+
+'I ought to have known better than to have shown it to you!  You are
+always laughing at her and me all over the house--and now--'
+
+'Come, Dolly.  I never meant to hurt your feelings.  I will promise not
+to tell the others about it.'
+
+No answer.  There was something hard and swelling in Dolores's throat.
+
+'Won't that do?' said Gillian.  'You know I can't say that I admire it,
+but I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'll take care the others don't tease you
+about it.'
+
+Dolores made hardly any answer, but it was a sort of pacification, and
+Gillian said not a word to the younger ones.  Still she thought it no
+breach of her promise, when they were all gone to bed, and she the sole
+survivor, to tell her mother how inadvertently she had affronted
+Dolores by cutting up the verses, before she knew whose they were.
+
+'I am sorry,' said Lady Merrifield.  'Anything that tends to keep
+Dolores aloof from us is a pity.'
+
+'But, mama, I had no notion whose they were.'
+
+'You saw that she was pleased with them.'
+
+'Yes, but that was the more ridiculous.  Fancy the evening star
+climbing up--up--you know in the sunset!'
+
+'Portentous, certainly!  Yet still I wish you could have found it in
+your heart to take advantage of any feeler towards sympathy.'
+
+'How could I pretend to admire such stuff?'
+
+'You need not pretend; but there are two ways of taking hold of a thing
+without being untrue.  If you had been a little wiser and more
+forbearing you need not have given Dolores such a shock as would drive
+her in upon herself.  Depend upon it, the older you grow, the more
+dangerous you will find it to begin by hitting the blots.'
+
+Gillian looked on in some curiosity when the next day good Miss Hacket,
+enchanted with her dear Connie's success, trotted up to display the
+lines to Lady Merrifield, who on her side felt bound to set an example
+alike of tenderness and sincerity, and was glad to be able to observe,
+'The lines run very smoothly.  This must be a great pleasure to her.'
+
+'Indeed it is!  Connie is so clever.  I always say I can't think where
+she got it from; but we always tried to give her very advantage, and
+she was quite a favourite pupil at Miss Dormer's.  Is not it a sweet
+idea, the stillness of the evening broken by the sounds of battle, and
+then it proving to be only our brave defenders?'
+
+'Yes,' was the answer.  'I have often thought of that, and of what it
+might be to hear those volleys of musketry in earnest.  It has made me
+very thankful.'
+
+So Miss Hacket went away gratified, and Gillian owned that it would
+have been useless to wound the good lady's feelings by criticism,
+though her mother made her understand that if her opinion had been
+asked, or Connie herself had shown the verses, it would have been
+desirable to point out the faults, in a kindly spirit.  The wonder was,
+how they could have found their way into the paper, and they were
+followed by more with the like signature.
+
+Indeed, the great sensational tale, 'The Waif of the Moorland,' was
+being copied out of the books where it had been first written.  Dolores
+had sounded Mr. Flinders on the subject, and he had replied that he
+could ensure its consideration by a publisher, but that her fair friend
+must be aware that an untried author must be prepared for some risk.
+
+Constance could hardly abstain from communicating her hopes to her
+sister; but Mr. Leadbitter--to whom the poetry was duly shown--had
+given such a character of the Darminster Politician that Miss Hacket
+besought Constance to have no more to do with it.  Besides, she was so
+entirely a lady, and so conscientious, that all her tender blindness
+would not have prevented her from being shocked at encouraging, or
+profiting by, a surreptitious correspondence.
+
+Constance declared that Mr. Leadbitter's objection to the paper was
+merely political, and her sister was too willing that she should be
+gratified to protest any further.  The copying had to be done in
+secret, since it was impossible to confess the hopes founded on Mr.
+Flinders, and it therefore lasted several weeks, each fresh portion
+being communicated to Dolores on Sunday afternoons.  There were at
+first a few scruples on Constance's part whether this were exactly a
+Sunday occupation; but Dolores pronounced that 'the Sabbatarian system
+was gone out,' and after Constance had introduced the ghostly double of
+her vanished waif walking in a surpliced procession, she persuaded
+herself that there was a sufficient aroma of religion about the story
+to bring it within the pale of Sunday books.
+
+The days were shortening so that Lady Merrifield had doubts as to the
+fitness of letting the girls return in the dark, but Gillian would have
+been grieved to relinquish her class, and the matter was adjusted by
+the two remaining till evensong, when there was sure to be sufficient
+escort for them to come home with.
+
+Therewith arrived the holidays and Jasper, whose age came between those
+of Gillian and Mysie.  Dolores had looked forward to his coming, for,
+by all the laws of fiction, he was bound to be the champion of the
+orphan niece, and finally to develop into her lover and hero.  In 'No
+Home,' when Clare's aunt locked her up and fed her on bread and water
+for playing the piano better than her spiteful cousin Augusta, Eric,
+the boy of the family, had solaced her with cold pie and ice-creams
+drawn up in a basket by a cord from the window.  He had likewise forced
+from his cruel mother the locket which proved Clare's identity with the
+mourning countess's golden-haired grandchild and heiress, and he had
+finally been rewarded with her hand, becoming in some mysterious manner
+Lord Eric.
+
+Jasper, however, or Japs, as his family preferred to call him, proved
+to be a big, shy boy, not at all delighted with the introduction of a
+stranger among his sisters, neither golden-haired nor all-accomplished,
+only making him feel his home invaded, and looking at him with her
+great eyes.
+
+'Is that girl here for good?' he asked, when he found himself with
+Harry and Gillian.
+
+'Yes, of course,' said the cousin, 'while her father is away, and that
+is for three years.'
+
+Jasper whistled.
+
+'Aunt Ada said,' added Gillian, 'that if she got too tiresome, mamma
+had Uncle Maurice's leave to send her to  school.'
+
+'That would be no good to me,' said Jasper, 'for she would still be
+here in the holidays.'
+
+'Has she been getting worse?' asked Harry.
+
+'No, I don't know that she has,' said Gillian, 'except that she runs
+after that Constance more than ever.  But, I say, Jasper, mamma says
+she is particularly anxious that there should be no teasing of her; and
+you can hinder Wilfred better than anybody can.  She wants her to be
+really at home, and one--'
+
+But though Jasper was very fond both of mother and sister, he would not
+stand a second-hand lecture, and broke in with an inquiry about chances
+of rabbit-shooting.
+
+Among his juniors he heard more opinions and more undisguised, when the
+whole party had rushed out together to the stable-yard to inspect the
+rabbits and other live-stock.
+
+'And Dolly says you are a fright,' sighed Mysie, condoling with a very
+awkward-looking puppy which she was nursing.
+
+'She! she thinks everything a fright!' said Valetta.
+
+'Except Constance,' added Wilfred.
+
+'Who is ugliest of all!' politely chimed in Fergus.
+
+'Oh, Japs, she is such a nasty girl--Dolly, I mean!' cried Valetta.
+
+"You know you ought not to say 'nasty,'" exclaimed Mysie.
+
+'Well, but she is!' insisted Val.  'She squashed a dear little lady-
+bird, and said it would sting!'
+
+'She really thought it would,' said Mysie.
+
+At which the young barbarians shouted aloud with contempt, and Valetta
+added.  'She is afraid of everything--cows and dogs and frogs.'
+
+'I got a whole match-box full of grasshoppers to shut up in her desk
+and make her squall,' said Wilfred, 'only the girls went and turned
+them out.'
+
+'It was so cruel to the poor grasshoppers,' said Mysie. 'One had his
+horn broken, and dragged his leg.'
+
+'What does she do?' asked Jasper.
+
+'She's always cross,' said Fergus.
+
+'And she won't play,' added Valetta.  'And never will lend us anything
+of hers.'
+
+'And she's a regular sneak,' said Wilfred.  'She wants to tell of
+everything--only we stopped that and she doesn't dare now.'
+
+'You see,' said Mysie, gravely, 'she has always lived alone and in
+London, and that makes her horribly stupid about everything sensible.
+We thought we should soon teach her to be nice; and mamma says we shall
+if we are patient.'
+
+'We'll teach her, won't we, Japs!' said Wilfred, aside, in an ominous
+voice.
+
+'She is only thirteen,' added Valetta, 'and she pretends to be grown
+up, and only to care for a grown-up young lady--that Constance Hacket.'
+
+'Yes,' added Mysie, 'only think--they write poetry!'
+
+'What rot it must be!' said Jasper.  'There's a man in my house that
+writes poetry, and don't they chaff him!  And this must be ever so much
+worse.'
+
+'Oh, that it is,' said Valetta.  'I heard Mr. Poulter and Miss Vincent
+laughing about it like anything.'
+
+'But they get it put into print,' said Mysie, still impressed.  'Miss
+Hacket brought it up to give to mamma, and there's ever so much of it
+shut up in the drawing-room blotting-book with the malachite knobs.  I
+can't think why they laugh--I think it is very pretty.  Old Miss Hacket
+read me the one about "My Lost Dove."'
+
+'Mysie always will stick up for Dolores,' said Valetta in a grumbling
+voice.
+
+'I always meant her to be my friend,' said Mysie, disconsolately.
+
+'Well, I'm glad she's not,' said Jasper.  'What a sell it would have
+been for me to find you chummy with a stupid, poetry-writing, good-for-
+nothing girl like that, instead of my jolly old Mice!'
+
+And at that minute all Dolly's slights were fully compensated for!
+
+There was a lurking purpose in the boys' minds that if Dolores would
+not join in fun, yet still fun should be extracted from her. Jasper had
+brought home a box of Japanese fireworks, and Wilfred, who was
+superintending his unpacking, proposed to light the serpent and place
+it in Dolores's path as she was going up to bed; but Jasper was old
+enough to reply that he would have no concern with anything so low and
+snobbish as such a trick. In fact, there was in Jasper's mind a decided
+line between bullying and teasing, which did not exist as yet in
+Wilfred's conscience.  And, altogether, Dolores was in a state of mind
+that made her stiff letters to her father betray low spirits and
+discontent.
+
+On Sunday, while waiting for the early dinner, Jasper and Mysie
+happened to be together in the drawing-room, and Mysie took the
+opportunity of showing her brother the different cuttings of poetry.
+The lines were smooth, and some had a certain swing in them such as
+Mysie, with an unformed taste, a love for Miss Hacket, and amazement
+that the words of a familiar acquaintance of her own should appear in
+print, genuinely admired. But the eyes of a youth exercised in
+'chaffing' the productions of one of his fellow 'men' were infinitely
+more critical. Besides, what could be more shocking to the General's
+son than the confusion between the evening gun and the sham fight? And
+Mysie had been reduced to confusion for not detecting the faults, and
+then pardoned in consideration of being only a girl, by the time the
+gong summoned them to the Sunday roast beef.
+
+The dinner over, the female part of the family, scampered headlong
+upstairs, while Harry repaired with his mother to her room to talk over
+a letter from his father respecting his plans on leaving Oxford. The
+other boys hung about the hall, until Gillian and Dolores came down
+equipped for walking.  'Hollo, Gill!  All right!  Where's Mysie?  We'll
+be off!  Mysie!  Mice!  Mouse!  Val!'
+
+'You must wait for them, Japs,' said Gillian.  'They are having their
+dresses changed; and, don't you remember, I always go to Miss
+Hacket's.'
+
+'Botheration!  What for?'
+
+'You know very well.'
+
+'Oh yes.  To help her to write touching verses about the sweet dead
+dove, with voice and plumage soft as love, eh? Only, Gill, I'm afraid
+your memory is failing, if you don't know the evening gun from rifle
+practice.'
+
+'Nonsense! that's no concern of mine,' said Gillian, opening the front
+door, very anxious to get Dolores away from hearing anything worse.
+
+'Oh, that's your modesty. Only such a conjunction could have produced
+such a scene that the evening star came up backwards to look at it!'
+
+'For shame, Jasper! How in the world did you get hold of that?'
+
+'Too sweet a thing not to meet with universal fame,' said Jasper, to
+whom it was exquisite fun to assume that Gillian devoted her Sunday
+afternoons to the concoction of such poetry with Constance Hacket, and
+thus to revenge himself for his disgust and jealousy at having his
+favourite companion and  slave engrossed. Wilfred hopped about like an
+imp in ecstasy, grinning in the face of Dolores, whom Gillian longed to
+free from her tormentors. The shout was welcome, as Mysie and Valetta
+came tearing down the drive after them.
+
+'Japs!  Japs!  Oh, we couldn't come before because nurse would make us
+take off our Sunday serges. Come and let out the dogs. Mamma says we
+may see if there are any nice fir cones in the plantation to gild for
+the Christmas-tree.'
+
+'And you won't come?' said Jasper.  'The Muses must meet.  What a poem
+you will produce!
+
+
+                'Hear I a cannon or a rifle,
+                 That is an unessential trifle!'
+
+
+'What nonsense boys do talk!' said Gillian, turning her back on them
+with regret; for much as she loved her class, she better loved a walk
+with Jasper, and here was Dolores on her hands in a state of
+exasperation, believing her to have broken her promise, and muttering,
+
+'You set him on.'
+
+'No, indeed I never did!  You know I promised.'
+
+'There are plenty of ways of getting out of a promise.'
+
+'Speak for yourself, Dolores.'
+
+There were ten minutes of offended silence, and then Gillian said,
+'This is nonsense!  You may believe me, I was sorry I laughed at the
+first verses you showed me, and mamma said I ought not.  We never spoke
+of it, but Miss Hacket has been giving mamma all the poems, and Jasper
+must have got at them.  Don't you see?'
+
+'Oh yes, you say so,' said Dolores, sulkily.
+
+'You don't believe me!'
+
+'You promised that your brothers should never hear of it.'
+
+'I promised for myself. I couldn't promise for what was put into a
+newspaper and trumpeted all over the place,' said Gillian, really angry
+now.
+
+Dolores could not deny this, but she was hurt by the word trumpeted;
+and besides, her own slippery behaviour was weakening her trust in
+other people's sincerity, and she only gave a kind of grunt;  but
+Gillian, recovering herself a little, and remembering her mother's
+words, proceeded to argue.  'Besides, it was me whom Jasper meant to
+tease, not you.'
+
+'I don't care which it was.  He is as bad as the rest of them!'
+
+Gillian attempted no more conciliation, and they arrived in silence at
+the Casement Cottages, where Constance was awaiting her friend in the
+greatest excitement; for she had despatched 'The Waif of the Moorland'
+to Mr. Flinders in the course of the week, and had received a letter
+from him in return, saying that a personal interview with the gifted
+authoress would be desirable.
+
+'And I do long to see him; don't you, darling?
+
+'It is very hard that he should be kept away from me,' said Dolores,
+trying to stir up some tender feelings.
+
+'That it is, my poor sweet! I thought whether he could come to me for a
+merely literary consultation without Mary's knowing anything further
+about it, and then we could contrive for you to come down and meet him;
+but there are so many horrid prejudices that I suppose it would not be
+safe.'
+
+'I don't see how I could come down here without the others.  Aunt Lily
+won't let me come alone, and though it is holiday time, that is no
+good, for those horrid boys are always about, and I see that Jasper is
+going to be worse even than Wilfred.
+
+Various ways and means were discussed, but no excuse seemed available
+for either Constance's going to Darminster, or for Mr. Flinders coming
+to Silverton, without exciting suspicion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+SECRET EXPEDITION
+
+
+
+'The Christmas-tree!  Oh, mamma, do let it be the Christmas-tree.  It
+is quite well.  We've been to look at it.'
+
+'Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val,' said Gillian.
+
+'Rot!' put in Jasper.
+
+'Oh, please, please, mamma,' implored Valetta, 'please let it be the
+dear old Christmas-tree!  You said I should choose because it will be
+my birthday.'
+
+'There is no need to whine, Val; you shall have your tree.'
+
+'I'm so glad!' cried Mysie.  'The dear old tree is best of all.  I
+could never get tired of it if I lived to be a hundred years old.'
+
+'Such are institutions,' said their mother.  'I never heard of a
+Christmas-tree till I was twice your age.'
+
+'Oh, mamma!  How dreadful!  What did you do?'
+
+'I suppose it is all very well for you kids,' said Jasper, loftily,
+putting his hands in his pockets.
+
+'Perhaps something may be found interesting eve: to the high and mighty
+elders,' observed Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Oh! What, mamma?'
+
+Mamma, of course, only looked mysterious.
+
+'And,' added Val, 'mayn't we all go on a secret expedition and buy
+things for it?'
+
+'We've all been saving up,' added Mysie; 'and everybody knows every
+single thing in all the shop at Silverton.'
+
+'Besides,' added Gillian, 'the sconces will none of them hold, and
+almost all the golden globes got smashed in coming from Dublin, and one
+of the birds has its head off, and another has lost its spun-glass
+tail, and another its legs.'
+
+'A bird of Paradise,' said Lady Merrifield, laughing; 'but wasn't there
+a tree at Malta decked with no apparatus at all?'
+
+'Yes, but Alley and Phyl can do anything!'
+
+'I think we must ask Aunt Jane---'
+
+There was a howl.  'Oh, please, mamma, don't let Aunt Jane get all the
+things!  We do so want to choose.'
+
+'You impatient monsters!  You haven't heard me out, and you don't
+deserve it.'
+
+'Oh, mamma, I beg your pardon!'  'Oh, mamma, please!'  'Oh, mamma,
+pray!' cried the most impatient howlers, dancing round her.
+
+'What I was about to observe, before the interruption by the honourable
+members, was, that we might perhaps ask Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada to
+receive at luncheon a party of caterers for this same tree.'
+
+'Oh! oh! oh!'  'How delicious!'  'Hooray!'  'That's what I call jolly
+fun!'
+
+'And, mamma,' added Gillian, 'perhaps we might let Miss Hacket join.  I
+know she wants to get up something for a G.F.S. class; but mamma was
+attending to Primrose, and the brothers burst in.
+
+'There goes Gill, spoiling it all!' exclaimed Wilfred.
+
+'That's always the way,' said Jasper.  'Girls must puzzle everything up
+with some philanthropic Great Fuss Society dodge.'
+
+'I am sure, Jasper,' said Gillian, 'I don't see why it should spoil
+anything to make other people happy. I thought we were told to make
+feasts not only for our own friends--'
+
+'Gill's getting just like old Miss Hacket,' said Wilfred.
+
+'Or sweet Constance,' put in Jasper.  'She'll be writing poems next.'
+
+'Hush! hush! boys,' said Lady Merrifield.  'I do not mean to interfere
+with your pleasure, 'but I had rather our discussions were not entirely
+selfish.  Suppose, Gillian, we walked down to Casement Cottages, and
+consulted Miss Hacket.'
+
+This was done, in the company of all the little girls, for Miss
+Hacket's cats, doves, and gingerbread were highly popular; moreover,
+Dolores was glad of a chance sight of Constance.
+
+'My dear,' said Lady Merrifield, as Gillian walked beside her, 'you
+must be satisfied with giving Miss Hacket the reversion of our tree,
+and you and Mysie can go and help her. It will not do to make these
+kind of works a nuisance to your brothers.'
+
+'I did not think Jasper would have been so selfish as to object,' said
+Gillian, almost tearfully.
+
+'Remember that boys have a very short time at home, and cannot be
+expected to care for these things like those who work in them,' said
+Lady Merrifield.  'It will not make them do so, to bore them, and take
+away their sense of home and liberty. At the same time, they must not
+expect to have everything sacrificed to them, and so I shall make
+Jasper understand.'
+
+'You won't scold him, mamma?'
+
+'Can't you, any of you, trust me, Gill?'
+
+'Oh! mamma! Only I didn't want him to think. I wouldn't do everything
+he liked, except that I don't want him to be unkind about those poor
+girls.'
+
+Miss Hacket was perfectly enraptured at the offer of the reversion of
+the Christmas-tree and its trapping. Valetta's birthday was on the 28th
+of December and the tree was to be lighted on the ensuing evening for
+G.F.S.  Moreover, the party would go to Rockstone as soon as an
+appointment could be made with Miss Mohun, to make selections at a
+great German fancy shop, recently opened there, and in full glory; and
+the Hacket sisters were invited to join the party, starting at a
+quarter to eight, and returning at a few minutes after seven, the
+element of darkness at each end only adding to the charm in the eyes of
+the children, and Valetta, with a little leap, repeated that it would
+be a real secret expedition.
+
+'Very secret indeed,' said her mother, 'considering how many it is
+known to--'
+
+'Yes, but it is, mamma, for everybody has a secret from everybody.'
+
+The words made Constance and Dolores look round with a start from their
+colloquy under the shade of the window-curtains, but no one was
+thinking of them.  Just as the plans were settled, Constance came
+forward, saying, 'Lady Merrifield, may I have dear Dolores to spend the
+day with me?  We neithe of us wish to join your kind party to
+Rockstone, and we should so enjoy being together.'
+
+'I had much rather stay,' added Dolores.
+
+'Very well,' said Lady Merrifield, reflecting that her sisters would be
+grateful for the diminution of the party, and that it would be easier
+to keep the peace without Dolores.
+
+The defection was hailed with joy by her cousins, though they were
+struck dumb at her extraordinary taste in not liking shopping.
+
+Jasper did look rather small when his mother assured him in private he
+might have trusted her to see that he was not to be incommoded with
+Gillian's girls, and he only observed, in excuse for his murmurs, that
+it made a man mad to see his sisters always off after some charity fad
+or other.
+
+"'Always' being a few hours once a week," she said.
+
+'Just when one wants her.'
+
+'Look here, my boy,' she said, 'you don't want your sisters to be
+selfish, useless, fine ladies--never doing any one any good. If they
+take up good works, they can't drop them entirely to wait on you.
+Gillian does give up a great deal, and it would be kinder to forbear a
+little, and not treat all she does as an injury to yourself.'
+
+'I only meant to get a rise out of her.'
+
+'You are quite welcome to do that, provided it is done in good nature.
+Gill is quite sound stuff enough to be laughed at!  But, I say, my
+Japs, I should prefer your letting Dolores alone; she has not learned
+to be laughed at yet, and has not come even to the stage for being
+taught to bear it.'
+
+'She looks fit to turn the cream sour,' observed Jasper.  'I say,
+mamma, you don't want me to go on this shopping business, do you?'
+
+'Not by any means, sir.'
+
+Happily, the chance of a day's rabbit shooting presented itself at a
+warren some miles off, and Harry undertook the care of Wilfred, who
+gave his word of honour to obey implicitly and take no liberties with
+the guns. Fergus would gladly have gone with them, but he was still
+young enough to be sensible of the attractions of toy-shops. Only
+Primrose had to be left to the nursery, and there was no need to waste
+pity on her, for on such an occasion Mrs. Halfpenny would relax her
+mood, and lay herself out to be agreeable, when she had exhausted her
+forebodings about her leddyship making herself ill for a week gaun
+rampaging about with all the bairns, as if she was no better than one
+herself.
+
+'I shall let Miss Mohun do most of the rampaging, nurse; but, if it is
+fine, will you take Miss Primrose into the town and let her choose her
+own cards.  I have given her a florin, and if you make the most of that
+for her, she will be as happy as going with us.'
+
+'That I will, my leddy.  Bairns is easy content when ye ken how to sort
+'em.'
+
+'And, nurse, I believe there will be a box from Sir Jasper at the
+station.  It may come home in the waggonette that takes us.  Will you
+and Macrae get it safe into the store-room, for I don't want the
+children to see it too soon?'
+
+There was nothing but satisfaction in the house on the morning of the
+expedition.  The untimely candle-light breakfast was only a fresh
+element of delight, and so was the paling gas at the station, the
+round, red sun peeping out through a yellow break between grey sky and
+greyer woods; the meeting Miss Hacket in her fur cloak, the taking of
+the tickets, the coughing of the train, the tumbling into one of the
+many empty carriages, the triumphant start,--all seemed as fresh and
+delicious as if the young people had never taken a journey before in
+all their lives.  The fog in the valleys, the sleepy villages, the
+half-roused stations, all gave rise to exclamations, and nothing was
+regretted but that the windows would get clouded over.
+
+Even the waiting at the junction had its charms, for it was enlivened
+by a supplementary breakfast on rolls and milk! and at a few minutes
+past eleven the train was drawing up at Rockstone, and Aunt Jane,
+sealskins and all, was beckoning from the platform, hurrying after the
+carriage as it swept past, and holding out a hand to jump the party
+from the door.
+
+There she was, ready to take them to the most charming and cheapest
+shops, where the coins burning in those five pockets would go the
+furthest. Go in a cab?  No, I thank you, it is far more delightful to
+walk.  So mamma and Miss Hacket were stowed away in the despised
+vehicle, to make the purchases that nobody cared about, or which were
+to be unseen and unknown till the great day; while Aunt Jane undertook
+to guide the young people through the town, for her house was at the
+other end of it securing the Christmas-cards on the way, if nothin'
+else.  For, though all the cards and gifts to mamma, and a good many
+besides, were of domestic manufacture, some had to be purchased, and
+she knew, this wonderful woman, where to get cards of former seasons at
+reduced prices to suit their youthful finances.
+
+Considerable patience was requisite before all the choices were made,
+and the balance cast between cards and presents, and Miss Mohun got her
+quartette past all the shop windows, to the seaside villa, shut in by
+tamarisks, which Aunt Adeline believed to be the only place that suited
+her health.  Mamma and Miss Hacket had already arrived, and filled the
+little vestibule with parcels and boxes.
+
+Then the early dinner!  The aunts had anticipated their Christmas
+turkey for that goodly company to help them eat it, but afterwards
+there was only time for a mince pie all round; for more than half the
+work remained to be done by all except mamma, who would stay and rest
+with Aunt Ada, having finished all that could not be deputed.
+
+However, first she had a conference in private with Aunt Jane, who
+undertook therein to come to Silverton for Valetta's birthday, and add
+astonishment and mystery sufficient to satisfy such of the public as
+were weary of Christmas-trees.  She added, however, 'You will think I
+am always at you. Lily, but did you know that Flinders is living at
+Darminster?'
+
+'No; but it is five and twenty miles off, and he has never troubled
+us.'
+
+'Don't be too secure.  He is in connection with that low paper--the
+Politician--which methinks, is the place where those remarkable poems
+of Miss Constance's have appeared.'
+
+'Is it not the way of poetry of that calibre to see the light in county
+papers?'
+
+'This seems to me of a lower calibre than is likely to get in without
+private interest.'
+
+'But to my certain knowledge the child has neither written to, nor
+heard of the man all this time,'
+
+'You don't know what goes on with her bosom friend.'
+
+'I am certain Miss Hacket would connive at nothing underhand.  Besides,
+I have never seen any thing sly or deceitful in poor Dolores.  She will
+not make friends with us, that is all, and that may be our fault.'
+
+'I only say, look out, you unsuspicious dame!'
+
+'Now, Jenny, satisfy my curiosity as to how you know all this.  I am
+sure I never showed you those effusions.  We have had trouble enough
+about them, for the children cut them up in a way Dolores has never
+forgiven.'
+
+'Oh!  Miss Hacket sent them to me, to ask if 'Mollsey to her Babe' and
+'The Canary' might not be passed on to Friendly Leaves.  And as to
+Flinders, when I went to the G.F.S. Conference at Darminster I met the
+man full in the street, and, of course, I inquired afterwards how he
+came there.  So there's nothing preternatural about it.'
+
+'It is well you did not live two hundred years ago, or you would
+certainly have been burnt for a witch.'
+
+'See what a witch I shall make on the 28th!  But I hear those
+unfortunate children dancing and prancing with impatience on the
+stairs.  I must go, before they have driven Ada distracted.'
+
+What would the two aunts have said, could they have seen Dolores and
+Constance, at that moment partaking of the most elaborate meal the
+Darminster refreshment-room could supply, at a little round marble
+table, in company with Mr. Flinders!  They had not been obliged to
+start nearly so early as the other party, as the journey was much
+shorter, and with no change of line, so they had quietly walked to the
+station by ten o'clock, arrived at Darminster at half-past eleven, and
+have been met by the personage whom Dolores recognized as Uncle Alfred.
+Constance was a little disappointed not to see something more
+distinguished, and less flashy in style, but he was so polite and
+complimentary, and made such touching allusions to his misfortunes and
+his dear sister, that she soon began to think him exceedingly
+interesting, and pitied him greatly when he said he could not take them
+to his lodgings--they were not fit for his niece or her friend, who had
+done him a kindness for which he could never be sufficiently grateful,
+in affording him a glimpse of his dear sister's child.  It made Dolores
+wince, for she never could bear the mention of her mother, it was like
+touching a wound, and the old sensation of discomfort and dislike to
+her uncle's company began to grow over her again, now that she was not
+struggling against Mohun opposition to her meeting him.  He lionized
+them about the town, but it was a foggy, drizzly day, one of those when
+the fringe of sea-coast often enjoys finer weather than inland places;
+the streets were very sloppy, and Dolores and Constance did not do much
+beyond purchasing a few cards and some presents at a fancy shop, as
+they had agreed to do, to serve as an excuse for their expedition in
+case it could not be kept a secret, and most of the visit was made in
+the waiting-room at the station, or walking up and down the platform.
+As to the grand point, Mr. Flinders told Constance that her tale was
+talented and striking, full of great excellence; she might hope for
+success equal to Ouida's--but that he had found it quite impossible to
+induce a publisher to accept a work by an unknown author, unless she
+advanced something.  He could guarantee the return, but she must
+entrust him with thirty pounds.  Poor Constance! it was a fatal blow;
+she had not thirty pounds in the world; she doubted if she could raise
+the sum, even by her sister's help.  Then Mr. Flinders sighed, and
+thought that if he represented the circumstances, the firm might be
+content with twenty--nay, even fifteen.  Constance cheered up a little.
+She did think she could make up fifteen, after the 21st, when certain
+moneys became due, which she shared with her sister.  She would be left
+very bare all the spring--but what was that to the return she was
+promised?  Only Mr. Flinders impressed on her the necessity of secrecy
+--even from her sister--since, he said, if he were once known to have
+obtained such terms for a young authoress, he should be besieged for
+ever!
+
+'But, Uncle Alfred,' said Dolores, 'surely my father and mother, and
+all the other people I have known, did not pay to get their things
+published.'
+
+'My dear niece, you speak as one who has been with persons of high and
+established fame--the literary aristocracy, in fact.  The doors once
+opened, Miss Hacket will, like them, make her own terms; but such
+doors, like many others, are only to be opened by a silver key.'
+
+There were other particulars which he talked over with the authoress in
+a promenade on the platform while Dolores was left in the waiting-room;
+but afterwards he indulged his niece with a tete-a-tete, asking her
+father's address, and mourning over the length of time it would take to
+obtain an answer from Fiji.  Mr. Mohun had promised to help him,
+solemnly and kindly promised, for the sake of her whom they had both
+loved so much, and here he was, cut off and quite in extremity.
+Unfortunate as usual, through his determined enemies, a company in
+which he had shares had collapsed, he was penniless till his salary
+from the Politician became due in March.  Meanwhile, he should be
+expelled from his lodging and brought to ruin if he could not raise a
+few pounds--even one.
+
+Dolores had nearly two pounds in her purse.  Her father had left her
+amply provided, and she had not much opportunity of spending.  She knew
+he had seen the gold when she was shopping, and when she had paid for
+the refreshments, which of course she had found she had to do. With
+some hesitation she said, 'If thirty shillings would be of any good to
+you--'
+
+'My dear, generous child, your dear mother's own daughter!  It will be
+the saving of me temporarily!  But among all your wealthy relatives,
+surely, considering your father's promise, you could obtain some
+advance until he can be communicated with!'
+
+'If he is still in New Zealand, we could telegraph, and hear directly.
+He did not know how long he should be there, for the ship had something
+to be done to it.'
+
+This did not suit Mr. Flinders.  Such telegrams were very expensive,
+and it was too uncertain whether Mr. Mohun would be at Auckland.
+Surely, Lady Merrifield, whose husband was shaking the pagoda tree,
+would make an advance if she knew the circumstances.
+
+'I don't think she would,' said Dolores, 'I don't think they are very
+rich.  There is only one horse and one little pony, and my cousins have
+such very tiny allowances.'
+
+'Haughty and poor!  Stuck up and skimping.  Yes, I understand.  But I
+am not asking from her, only an advance, on your father's promise,
+which he would be certain to repay.  Yes, quite certain!  It is only a
+matter of time.  It would save me at the present moment from utter ruin
+and destruction that would have broken your dear mother's heart.  Oh!
+Mary, what I lost in you.'  Then, as perhaps he saw reflection on
+Dolores's face, he added, 'She is gone, the only person who took an
+interest in me, so it matters the less, and when you hear again of your
+unhappy uncle you will know what drove him--'
+
+'If it was only an advance--I have a cheque,' began Dolores.  'If seven
+pounds would do you any good--'
+
+'It would be salvation!' he exclaimed.
+
+'Father left it with me,' pursued Dolores, considering, 'in case
+Professor Muhlwasser went on with his great book of coloured plates of
+microscopic marine zoophytes, and sent it in.  I was to keep this and
+pay with it--'
+
+'Oh!  Muhlwasser! you need not trouble about him.  I saw his death in
+the paper a month ago.'
+
+'Then I really think I might send you the cheque, and write to my
+father why I did so.'
+
+'Ah! Dolly, I knew that your mother's daughter could never desert me.'
+
+More followed of the same kind, tending to make Dolores feel that she
+was doing a heroically generous thing, and stifling the lurking sense
+in her mind that she had no right to dispose of her father's money
+without his consent.  The December day began to close in, the gas was
+lighted, Constance was seen disconsolately peeping out at the waiting-
+room door to see whether the private conference were over.  They joined
+her again, and Mr. Flinders discoursed about the envy and jealousy of
+critics, and success being only attained by getting into a certain
+clique, till she began to look rather frightened; but reassured by the
+voluble list of names and papers to which he assured her of
+recommendations.  Then he began to be complimentary, and she, to put on
+the silly tituppy kind of face and tone wherewith she had talked to the
+curates at the festival.  Dolores began to find this very dull, and to
+feel neglected, perhaps also cross, and doubts came across her whether
+she might not get into a dreadful scrape about the money, which she
+certainly had no right to dispose of.  She at last broke in with,
+'Uncle Alfred, are you quite sure Professor Muhlwasser is dead?'
+
+'Bless your heart, child, he's as dead as Harry the Eighth,' said Mr.
+Flinders in haste;' died at Berlin, of fatty degeneration of the heart!
+Well, as I was saying, Miss Constance--'
+
+'But, uncle, I was thinking--'
+
+'Hush!' as a couple of ladies and a whole train of nurses and children
+invaded the waiting-room, 'it won't do to talk of such little matters
+in public places, you know.  Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss
+Constance.  Will you allow me to be your cavalier?'
+
+People were beginning to arrive in expectation of the coming train, and
+talk was not possible in the throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not
+make it so.  At last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to find
+places for the ladies, when there was a moment's glimpse of a handsome
+moustached face at a smoking-carriage window.  Dolores started, and had
+almost exclaimed, 'Uncle Reginald;' but before the words were out of
+her mouth, Mr. Flinders had drawn her on swiftly, among all the numbers
+of people getting out and getting in, hurled her into a distant
+carriage, handed Constance in after her, and muttering something about
+forgetting an appointment, he vanished, without any of the arrangements
+about foot-warmers that he had promised.
+
+'Uncle Reginald!' again exclaimed Dolores, 'I am sure it was he!'
+
+'Oh dear!  What an escape!' answered Constance, breathless with
+surprise, and settling herself with disgust and difficulty next to a
+fat old farmer, as three or four more people entered and jammed them
+close together.
+
+'Who is he?' she presently whispered.
+
+'Colonel Mohun.  His regiment is at Galway.  I know he talked of
+getting over this winter if he possibly could; but Aunt Lily went away
+before the post was come in.'
+
+'We shall have to take great care when we get out.'
+
+Here the train started, and conversation in undertones became
+impossible, more especially as two of the farmers in the carriage were
+coming back from the Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the
+prize oxen with all their might.  It was very stuffy and close.
+Constance looked ineffably fastidious and uncomfortable, and Dolores
+gazed at the clouded window, and dull little lamp overhead, put in to
+enliven the deepening twilight.  This avoiding of Uncle Reginald
+brought more before her mind a sense of wrong-doing than anything that
+had gone before.  She was fond of this uncle, who always made her
+father's house his headquarters when in London, and used to play with
+her when she was a small child, and always to take her to the
+Zoological Gardens, till she declared she was too old to care for such
+a childish show, and then he and her father both laughed at her so much
+that she would never have forgiven anybody else; and she found he
+enjoyed it for his own sake far more than she did.  However, he always
+did take her out for walks and sights that were sure to be amusing with
+him.  Father, too, was quite bright and alive when he was in the house,
+and thus Dolores had nothing but pleasant associations connected with
+this uncle, and had heard of the chances of his coming like a ray of
+light, though without much hope, since the state of Ireland had
+prevented him from being able even to run over to take leave of her
+father.  And now he was come, she must hide from him like a guilty
+thing!  There was no spirit of opposition against him in her mind, and
+thus she could feel that she was doing something sad and strange.
+Moreover, she began to feel that her promise about the cheque had been
+a rash one, and the echo of her father's voice came back on her,
+saying, 'Surely, Mary, you know better than to believe a word out of
+Flinders's mouth.'
+
+But then she thought of her mother's rare tears glistening in her eyes,
+and the answer, 'Poor Alfred!  I cannot give him up.  Everything has
+been against him.'
+
+It was quite dark before Silverton was reached, at half-past five, with
+three quarters of an hour to spare before the other travellers were
+expected.  Most of their fellow passengers had got out at previous
+stations, so that Constance was able to open the door and jump out so
+perilously before the train had quite stopped, that a porter caught her
+with a sharp word of reproof.  She grasped Dolores's hand and scudded
+across the platform, giving the return tickets almost before the
+collector was ready.  A cautious guard even exclaimed, 'What's those
+two young women up to?' but was answered at once, 'They're all right!
+That's nought but one of the old parson's daughters, as have been out
+with a return to Darminster.'
+
+'A sweetheartin'?' demanded one of the bystanders, and there was a
+laugh.
+
+Constance heard the tones and vulgar laugh, though not the words, and
+she was in such a panic as she hurried down the steps that she did not
+stop to look out for a cab. The place was small, and they were not very
+plentiful at any time, and she was mortally afraid, though she hardly
+knew why, of being over-taken and questioned by Colonel Mohun, who
+might know his niece, though he would not know her; but Dolores was
+tired, and had a headache, and did not at all like the walk in the
+dirt, and fog, and dark, after turning from the gas lit station.
+
+'We were to have a cab, Constance.'
+
+'We can't,' was the answer, still hurrying on.  'He would come out upon
+us.'
+
+'He is much more likely to overtake us this way!' said Dolores,
+thinking of her uncle's long strides.
+
+'Well, we can't turn back now!' said Constance, getting almost into a
+run, which lasted till they were past the paddock gate.  Dolores,
+panting to keep up with her, had half a mind to turn up there and go
+straight home; but there might be any number of oxen in the way, and
+almost worse, she might meet Jasper and Wilfred, or if Uncle Reginald
+overtook her, what would he think?
+
+The pair slackened their pace a little when they had satisfied
+themselves that the break in the dark hedge beside them was the gate.
+They heard wheels, and presently saw the lamps of a cab, bearing down,
+halt at the gate they had left behind, and turn in.
+
+'We should have been off first,' said Dolores.
+
+'If we could have got a cab in time?'
+
+'One can always get cabs.'
+
+'Oh! no, not at all for certain.'
+
+'This is a nasty, stupid, out-of-the-way place,' said Dolores, wanting
+to say something cross.
+
+'It isn't a vulgar place, full of traffic,' returned Constance, equally
+cross.
+
+'Well, I never meant to walk home in this way!  I'm sure my feet are
+wet.  I wish I had waited and gone with Uncle Regie.'
+
+'Now, Dolly, what do you mean? You would not have it all betrayed?'
+
+'I've a great mind to tell Uncle Regie all about it.'
+
+'Now, Dolly!  When you said so much about the Mohun pride and scorn of
+your poor, dear uncle.'
+
+'Uncle Regie is not proud.  And he would know what to do.'
+
+'But,' cried Constance, in a fright, 'you would never tell him!  You
+promised that it should be a secret, and I should be in such a dreadful
+scrape with Lady Merrifield and Mary.'
+
+'Well! it was your doing, and you had all the pleasure of it,
+flourishing about the platform with him.'
+
+'How can you be so disagreeable, Dolores, when you know it was all on
+business. Though I do think he is the most interesting man I ever did
+see.'
+
+'Just because he flattered you.'
+
+However, there is no need to tell how many cross and quarrelsome things
+the two tired friends said to each other.  They were sitting on
+opposite sides of the fire, one very gloomy, and the other very
+pettish, when the waggonette stopped at the gate, to put out Miss
+Hacket and take up Dolores.  Hands pulled her up the step, and a hubbub
+of merry voices received her in the dark.
+
+'Good girl, not to keep us waiting.'
+
+'Oh, Dolly, Dolly, Macrae says Uncle Regie's come!'
+
+'Oh, Dolly, it has been such fun!'
+
+'Take care of my parcel!'
+
+'Ah, ha! you don't know what is in there.'
+
+'Here's something under my feet!'
+
+'Oh! take care!  'Tisn't my--'
+
+'Hush, hush, Val--'
+
+And so it went on till on the steps was seen in full light among the
+boys, Uncle Reginald, ready to lift every one out with a kiss.'
+
+'Ha!  Dolly, is that you?' he said, as they came into the hall.  'I saw
+such a likeness of you at one station that I was as near as possible
+jumping out to speak to her.  She had on just that fur tippet!'
+
+'That comes of living in Ireland, Regie,' said Aunt Lily.  'Once in a
+shop at Belfast, a lady darted up to me with "And it's I that am glad
+to see you, me dear.  And how's me sweet little god-daughter?  Oh! and
+it isn't yourself.  And aren't you Mrs. Phelim O'Shaugnessy?'"  And
+under cover of this, Dolores retreated to her own room.  She took off
+her things, and then looked at the cheque.
+
+Professor Muhlwasser was a clever German, always at work on science,
+counting, in the most minute and accurate manner, such details as the
+rays in a sea anemone's tentacles, or the eggs in a shrimp's roe.  He
+was engaged on a huge book, in numbers, of which Mr. Maurice Mohun had
+promised to take two copies--but whereas extravagances upon peculiar
+hobbies were apt not to be tolerated in the family, and it was really
+uncertain whether the work would ever be completed, Mr. Mohun had
+preferred leaving a cheque for the payment in his little daughter's
+hand, rather than entrust it to one of the brothers, who would have
+howled and growled at such a waste of good money on such a subject.
+Thus he had told Dolores to back the draft, get it changed, and send
+the amount by a postal order to Germany, if the books and account
+should come, which he thought very doubtful.
+
+And now the professor was dead, Dolores looked at the cheque, and
+supposed she could do as she pleased with it.  Mother helped Uncle
+Alfred.  Yes, but mother earned all she sent him herself!  Perhaps he
+would not ask again.  How much more he had talked to Constance than to
+herself.  Dolly wished she had not seen him to get into this
+difficulty.  She was tired, cold, and damp.  Oh! if she had never gone,
+and not been half caught by Uncle Regie!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+A HUNT
+
+
+
+Dolores was glad to recollect, when she awoke, that Uncle Reginald was
+in the house.  It was as if she had a friend of her own there who might
+enter into all the ill-usage she suffered, and whom she could even
+consult about Uncle Alfred, so far as she could do so without
+disclosing all the underhand correspondence.  She called doing so
+betraying Constance, but, in truth, she shrank more from shocking him
+with what he might think very wrong--since, after all, he belonged to
+that hard-hearted generation of grown-up people who had no feeling nor
+understanding of one's troubles.
+
+As she went downstairs she was aware of an increasing hubbub, and
+frequently looking over the balusters, perceived the top of Primrose's
+wavy head above the close-cropped one of Uncle Regie, as, with her
+mounted on his shoulder, he careered round the hall, with a pack of
+others vociferating behind him;
+
+There was a lull, for Lady Merrifield came out of her room just as
+Dolores had paused; Primrose was put down, the morning salutations took
+place, and Dolores had her full share of them.  She was even allowed to
+sit next her uncle at breakfast; but her rasher of bacon had not been
+half eaten, before she had perceived that, as to possessing him as she
+used to do at home, he was just as much everybody else's Uncle Regie as
+hers, for during the time of their being stationed at Belfast, he had
+been so often with them, that he was quite established as the prince of
+playfellows.
+
+'Uncle Regie, will you have a crack at the rabbits tomorrow?  Brown
+said we might have a day, and we have been keeping it for you.'
+
+'Uncle Regie, the hounds meet at the Bugle this morning, won't you come
+and see them throw off?'
+
+'Oh, let me come too!'  'And me!'  'And me!'
+
+'My dear children,' exclaimed their mother, 'I can't have the whole
+tribe of little ones and girls going galloping after your uncle.  You
+will only hinder him.'
+
+'No, no, Lily! the more Merrifields, the merrier the field.  I'll drill
+them well.  How far off is this Bugle?'
+
+'Not two miles over Furzy Common.'
+
+'Oh! not so far, Hal!'
+
+'That's nothing.  Who is coming?'
+
+A general outbreak of 'Me's' ensued, but mamma laid an embargo on
+Primrose, who must stay at home and 'help her,' while Gillian looked
+wistful and doubtful, knowing that more efficient help than the little
+one's might be desirable.
+
+'You had better go, my dear,' said her mother, 'if you are not tired.
+I don't like to send Mysie and Val without some one to turn back with
+them if your uncle and the boys want to go further.'
+
+But whereas it was not nearly time to start, Uncle Reginald was dragged
+down to inspect all the live stock in the stable-yard, at their
+feeding-time, and went off with Val and Primrose clinging to his hands,
+and the general rabble surrounding him.
+
+Nothing could have been more alien to Dolores's taste than going out to
+a meet on foot through mud and mire--she who hated the being driven out
+to take a constitutional walk on the gravel road or the paved path! But
+she had some hope that while all the others ran off madly, as was their
+wont, she might secure a little rational conversation with Uncle
+Reginald.  So she came down in hat and ulster, and was rewarded with
+'That's right, Doll; I'm glad to see they have taught you to take
+country walks.'
+
+'It is all compliment to you, Uncle Regie,' said Gillian.  'She hates
+them generally.'
+
+'Are we all ready?  Where are Japs and Will?'
+
+'Gone to shut up the dogs; and Hal is not coming.'
+
+'Beneath his dignity, eh?'
+
+'I think he has some reading to do,' said Gillian.
+
+'Now mind, Reginald,' said Aunt Lily, coming on the scene, 'you are not
+to let those imps drag you farther than you like.  It is a very
+different thing, remember, children, from going out with the hounds
+like a gentleman.'
+
+'Yes, mamma,' returned Fergus.  'If you would only let me have the
+pony!'
+
+'And send home the girls as soon as you find them in the way,' she
+added.
+
+'All right,' answered he, and off plunged the party; but Dolores soon
+found that she was not to be allowed much of Uncle Reginald's exclusive
+society.  He did begin talking to her about her father's voyage, last
+letters, and intended departure from Auckland, but Valetta kept fast
+hold of his other hand, and the others were all round, every moment
+pointing out something--to them noticeable--and telling the story of
+some exploit, delighted when their uncle capped it with some boyish
+tales of Beechcroft, or with some droll, Irish story.
+
+With such talk, the strong, healthy young folk little heeded the
+surface mud or the lanes.  Even Dolores when she heard her father's
+name in the reminiscences,' was interested for a time, and was always
+hoping that the others would fly off and leave her to her uncle; but
+she was much less used to country mud and stout boots than the others,
+and she had been very much tired by her expedition on the previous day,
+so that she had begun to find the way very long before they came out on
+an open green, with a few cottages standing a good way back in their
+gardens, and as their centre, one of the great old coaching inns of
+past days, now chiefly farmhouse, though a sign, bearing a golden
+bugle-horn upon a blue ground, stood aloft in front of it, over the
+heads of the speckled mass of tan, black, and white, pervaded with
+curved tails, over which the scarlet-coated whips kept guard, while
+shining horses, bearing red coats and black coats, boys, and a few
+ladies, were moving about, and carriages drew up from time to time.
+
+There was a long standing about, and Colonel Mohun, being a stranger
+there himself, kept his flock on the outskirts, only Jasper plunging
+in, at sight of a mounted schoolfellow, while Gillian and Mysie told
+the names of the few they recognized.  At last there was a move, and
+Jasper came back to point out the wood they were going to draw, close
+at hand. Should they not all go on and see it?
+
+'Oh! let us! do come, Uncle Regie,' cried Mysie and Val.
+
+'Look here, Gill,' said the uncle, 'this child doesn't look fit to go
+any farther.'
+
+'I'm very tired, and so cold,' said Dolores.
+
+'Yes,' said Gillian, 'we ought to go home now.'
+
+Not me! not me;' cried the other two girls; 'Uncle Regie will take care
+of us.'
+
+'I think you must come,' said Gillian, 'mamma said you had better come
+home when I do.'
+
+'Yes,' said Wilfred, 'we don't want a pack of girls to go and get
+tired.'
+
+'We shall go into all sorts of places not fit for you,' said Jasper;
+'you wouldn't come back with a whole petticoat among you.'
+
+'And Val would be left stodged in a ditch for a month of Sundays,'
+added Wilfred.
+
+'I am afraid we had better part company, Gill,' said the colonel.  'I
+would take you on a little further, but this poor little Londoner won't
+have a leg to stand upon by the time she gets home.'
+
+'More shame for her to come out to spoil our fun,' muttered Valetta,
+too low for her uncle to hear.
+
+'Mamma will think we have gone quite far enough, thank you, uncle,'
+said the sage Gillian, 'and I think Fergus had better come too.'
+
+'That he had,' said Jasper.  'Fancy him over Peat Hill.'
+
+'He'll be left behind to be picked up as we come back,' said Wilfred.
+
+'No, no, no!  I can keep up better than you can, Wil!  Take me, Uncle
+Regie.'  The little boy was so near a howl that good-natured Colonel
+Mohun's heart was touched, and he consented to let him come on, though
+Jasper argued, 'You'll have to carry him, uncle.'
+
+'No, I'll make you, master!  Tell your mother not to wait luncheon for
+us, Gillian; we'll pick up something somewhere.'
+
+'Hurrah!' cried Wilfred and Fergus, to whom this was an immense
+additional pleasure.
+
+The girls turned away into the lane, Valetta indulging in an outrageous
+grumble.  'Why should Dolores have come out to spoil everything?'
+
+Dolores did not speak.
+
+'Just our one chance,' sighed Mysie, 'and perhaps we should have seen
+the fox.'
+
+'We may do that yet,' said Gillian; 'he may come this way.'
+
+'I don't care if he does,' said Valetta.  'I wanted to see them draw
+the copse.  I believe Dolores did it on purpose to spoil our pleasure.'
+
+'Don't be so cross, Val,' said Mysie.  'She can't help being tired.'
+
+'Why did she come, then, when nobody wanted her?'
+
+'For shame, Val,' said Gillian, 'you know mamma would be very angry to
+hear you say anything so unkind.'
+
+'It's quite true, though,' muttered Valetta.
+
+'Never mind, Dolly, dear,' said Mysie, shocked.  'Val doesn't really
+mean it, you know.'
+
+'Yes, she does,' said Dolores, shaking her comforter off; 'you all do!
+I wish I had never come here.'
+
+Mysie tried in her own persevering way to argue again that Val was only
+put out, and disappointed at having to turn back, to which Valetta, in
+spite of Gillian's endeavour to silence her, added, 'So stupid of her
+to come out!  What did she do it for?'
+
+Dolores, who hardly ever cried, was tired into crying now.  'You grudge
+me everything; you wouldn't let me speak one single word to Uncle
+Regie, and kept bothering about!  I'll never do anything with you
+again!  I won't.'
+
+'Did you want to speak to Uncle Regie?' asked Mysie.
+
+'To be sure I did!  He is my uncle, that I knew ever so long before you
+did, and you never let him speak to me.'
+
+'Mrs. Halfpenny always put us on the high chair, with our faces to the
+wall when we were jealous,' remarked Valetta.
+
+'But did you want to say anything to him in particular?' said Mysie,
+revolving means of contriving a private interview.
+
+'That's no business of yours!  I wish you would let me alone!' broke
+out Dolores, in a fretful fright lest any one should guess that she had
+anything on her mind.
+
+'To make up stories of us, of course,' growled Valetta, but Gillian
+here interposed, declaring with authority that if she heard another
+word before they reached the paddock gate, she should certainly tell
+mother how disgracefully they had been behaving.  When Gillian said
+such things she kept her word.  Besides, by way of precaution, she
+marched down the muddy middle of the road, with Dolores limping along
+the footpath on one side, and Val as far off as possible on the border
+of the ditch, on the other; the more inoffensive Mysie keeping by her
+side.  They were all weary, and Dolores was very footsore also, by the
+time they reached home, at the very moment that the two Misses Hacket
+appeared coming up the drive.  Lady Merrifield, having the day before
+invited the elder, as the purchases needed to be looked over, and
+preparations set in hand, and she did not then know that her brother
+was coming.
+
+Dolores scarcely knew whether she was glad to see Constance. She had
+many doubts and qualms about that cheque.  And if she had spent any
+quiet time alone with her uncle, she might have laid enough of her
+trouble before him to get some advice or help; but to ask for an
+interview, especially when 'everybody' thought it was to make
+complaints, was too uncomfortable and alarming; and she was inclined to
+escape from thought of the whole subject altogether by taking action
+quickly.
+
+Gillian gave her uncle's message about not waiting; the dirty boots
+were taken off in the hall, and Constance followed her friend up to her
+room to take off her things.
+
+Dolores sat on the side of her bed, too much tired at first to be
+willing to move, Constance's pity elicited tears, and that they had all
+been so very unkind to her; they were angry at her getting tired, and
+they were jealous of her even speaking to Uncle Regie.  Again this
+alarmed Constance, 'You weren't going to tell him about Mr. Flinders--
+you know you promised.'
+
+'He knows about him already, and he would tell me what to do.'
+
+'Oh! but that would never do, darling Dolly.  You told me all the
+family were hard and unjust, and he would tell Lady Merrifield, and we
+should never be allowed to see each other again.  And only think of my
+poor little secret!  I didn't think you would have turned from your
+poor relation in misfortune for the sake of this grand Colonel.'
+
+The end of it was, that just as the gong was sounding, Dolores handed
+over to Constance an envelope directed to Mr. Flinders, and containing
+Mr. Maurice Mohun's cheque.  It was off her mind now, she thought, as
+she shuffled down to dinner, lookup so pale and uneasy that her aunt
+made her have a glass of wine and some gravy soup to begin with, and,
+when dinner was over, turned all the parcels off the school-room sofa,
+and made her lie upon it during the grand unpacking, which was almost
+as charming as the purchasing, perhaps more so, since there was no
+comparison with costlier articles.
+
+There was not very much time.  This was Friday and Christmas Day was on
+Monday, so there were only two more clear week-days before the birthday
+and Miss Hacket would be church-decorating on the morrow; but Lady
+Merrifield would not send her daughters to help, as there were plenty
+of hands without them, and they were too young to trust in a mixed set,
+who were not always sure to be reverent.
+
+Dinner had rested and refreshed them; they rejoiced in the absence of
+the man-kind, and Primrose was sent out for her walk while the numerous
+boxes and packages were opened, and displayed sconces and tapers, gilt
+balls and glass birds, oranges and bon-bons, disguised in every
+imaginable fashion. There was a double set of the tapers, and two
+relays of devices in sweets, for the benefit of the party of the second
+night, a list of whom Miss Hacket had brought, that heads might be
+counted, and any deficiency supplied in time through Aunt Jane.  For
+Lady Merrifield had commissioned Gillian to lay in--unknown to the good
+lady--a stock of such treasures as are valuable indeed to the little
+maid: shell pin-cushions, Cinderella slippers holding thimbles, cases
+of hair-pins, queer housewives, and the like things, wonderfully pretty
+for the price, and which filled the kind heart of Miss Hacket with
+rapture and gratitude at such brilliant additions to her own home-made
+contrivances in the way of cuffs, comforters, and illuminated workbags,
+all beautifully neat; I though it was hard to persuade her of what Lady
+Merrifield averred, that such things ought to be far more precious than
+brilliant, shop-bought, ready-made ware, 'with no love-seed in it.'
+
+'It is very hard,' she said; 'how fancy shops try to spoil all one used
+to be able to do for one's friends.  The purses, and the penwipers, and
+the needle-cases that were one's choicest presents in my youth, are all
+turned out now smart and tight and fashioned, but without a scrap of
+the honest old labour and love that went into them.'
+
+'But papa and mamma do care still,' cried Gillian; 'papa never will
+have any purse but the long ones mamma nets for him.'
+
+'And mamma always will have the old brown and blue carriage-bag that
+Aunt Phyllis worked,' chimed in Mysie, 'though Claude did say he would
+throw it into the sea when we crossed from Dublin for it looked like an
+old housekeeper's.'
+
+'Claude was in a superfine condition then--in awe of an old Sandhurst
+comrade.  He would be gild enough to see the old brown bag now, poor
+fellow,' said Lady Merrifield, tenderly.
+
+So it went on, with merry chat and a good deal of real preparation,
+till the early darkness came on, and a great noise in the haul
+announced the return of 'the boys,' among whom Lady Merrifield still
+classed her colonel brother.  They were muddy up to the eyes, but they
+had seen a great deal more than was easy to understand in their
+incoherent accounts.  Wilfed had rolled into a wet ditch, and been
+picked out by his uncle and hung up to dry at a little village inn,
+where--this seemed to have been the supreme glory--they had made a meal
+on pigs'-liver and bread-and-cheese before plodding home again--losing
+their way under Wilfred's confident pilotage--finding themselves five
+miles from home--getting a cast in a cart for the two little boys just
+as Fergus was almost ready to cry--Colonel Mohun and Jasper walking
+alongside of the carter for two miles, and conversing in a friendly
+manner, though the man said he knew the soldier by his step, and
+thought it was a pool-trade.  Finally, he directed them by a short cut,
+which proved to be through a lane of clay and pools of such an adhesive
+nature that Fergus had to be pulled out step by step by main force by
+his uncle, who deposited him on some stones at the other end, and then
+came back to assist the struggles of Wilfred, who was slowly proceeding
+with Jasper's help.
+
+'And that's the way we make you spend your Christmas holiday, Regie,'
+said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Never mind. Lily; mud was a congenial element to us both in old times,
+you know, so no wonder your brood take to it like ducks or
+hippopotamuses.  I say, we ought to have come in by the rear.  Couldn't
+that imp of a buttons of yours come and scrape us before we go
+upstairs?'
+
+'You are certainly grown older, Regie.  You never would have thought of
+that once.'
+
+'No more would you, Lily--so do yourself justice.'
+
+However, when five o'clock tea was spread in the drawing-room, and the
+Hacket ladies came in, Constance beheld such a splendid vision of a
+fine, fair, though sunburnt face, long, light moustaches, and tall
+figure, that she instantly assumed her most affected graces, and did
+not wonder the less that the Mohuns were all so very high.
+
+Dolores's strong desire for a private interview with her uncle died
+away when Constance carried off the cheque.  She knew he would tell her
+she had no right to give it, and she did not want to be told so, nor to
+have any special inquiries made. She was not sorry that an invitation
+from a neighbour kept him and Hal out shooting all Saturday, and, on
+the other hand, she so far shrank from Constance's talk about Mr.
+Flinders as not to be vexed that it was too wet on Sunday afternoon for
+any going down to Casement Cottages.
+
+It was on that wet afternoon, however, that Uncle Reginald, crossing
+the hall for once without his tail of followers, saw her slowly
+dragging downstairs with a book in her hand.
+
+'Well, Miss Doll,' he said; 'you don't look very jolly!  What's the
+matter?'
+
+'Nothing, Uncle Regie.'
+
+'I don't believe in nothing.  Here,' sitting down on the stairs, with
+an arm round her, 'tell me all about it, Dolly, we are old chums, you
+know.  Have you got into a row?'
+
+'Oh no!'
+
+'Is there anything I can put straight?'
+
+'No, thank you, Uncle Regie.'
+
+'There's something amiss!' said the good-natured, puzzled uncle.  'What
+is it?  I should have thought you would have got on with these young
+folks like--like a house on fire.'
+
+'That's all you know about it,' thought Dolly.  What she said was, 'One
+never does.'
+
+'I don't understand that generalization,' answered her uncle; then, as
+she did not answer, he added, 'I am sure your Aunt Lily is very anxious
+to make you happy.  Have you anything to complain of?'
+
+'No,' said Dolores, 'I don't complain of anything.'
+
+She was thinking of Valetta's notion that she wanted to 'make up
+stories of them,' and therefore she said it in a manner which conveyed
+that she had a good deal to complain of, if she would, though really
+she would have been a good deal puzzled to produce a grievance that a
+man like Uncle Reginald would understand, though she had plenty for
+sympathy like Constance's.
+
+However, it was not to be expected that a private conference should
+last long in that house, and Mysie appeared at that moment, looking for
+her cousin, to say that 'Mamma was ready for her.'  Dolores went off
+with more alacrity than usual, and Uncle Reginald beckoned up his other
+niece, and observed: 'I say, Mysie, what's the matter with Dolly?'
+
+'She is always like that, uncle,' answered Mysie.
+
+'Don't you hit it off with her, then?'
+
+'I can't, uncle,' said Mysie, looking up, with a sudden wink now and
+then to stop her tears.  'I thought we should have been such friends;
+but she won't let me.  I didn't mean to be stupid and disagreeable,
+like the girls in 'Ashenden Schoolroom,' but she doesn't care for
+anybody but Miss Constance and Maude Sefton.'
+
+'I hope you are all very kind to her,' said Uncle Reginald, rather
+wistfully.
+
+'We try,' said Mysie, who was not going to betray Wilfred and Valetta,
+and could honestly say so of herself and Gillian.
+
+And there again came an interruption, in the shape of Gillian.  'Mysie,
+mamma says we may finish up our sacred illuminated cards, for it will
+be Sunday work.'
+
+'Oh, jolly!' cried Mysie, jumping up.  'And will you give me one rub of
+your real good carmine Gilly-flower, dear.'
+
+'And of my ultramarine, too,' responded Gillian, wherewith the two
+sisters disappeared, radiant with goodwill and gratitude; while poor
+Uncle Reginald, who had intended to devote this wet Sunday afternoon to
+writing to his brother that Dolores was perfectly happy and thriving in
+Lily's care, and like a sister to his other favourite, Mysie, remained
+disappointed and perplexed, wondering whether the poor little maiden
+were homesick, or whether no children could be depended on for kindness
+when out of sight, and deciding that he should defer his letter till he
+had seen a little more, and talked to his sister Jane, who could see
+through a milestone any day.
+
+It was understood that mamma preferred home-made cards to bought ones,
+so there was always a great manufacture of them in the weeks previous
+to Christmas, the comparative failures being exchanged among the
+younger members.
+
+The presents were always reserved for Valetta's birthday and the tree,
+and this rendered the circulation of the cards doubly interesting. In
+the immediate family alone, there were thirteen times thirteen, besides
+those coming from, and going to outsiders, so that it was as well that
+a good many should be of domestic manufacture, either with pencil and
+brush, or of tiny leaves carefully dried and gummed.  And mamma had
+kept an album, with names and dates, into which all these home efforts
+were inserted, and nothing else!  This year's series began with a
+little chestnut curl of Primrose's hair, fastened down on a card by
+Gillian, and rose to a beautiful drawing of a blue Indian Lotus lily,
+with a gorgeous dragon-fly on it, sent by Alethea.  The Indian party
+had sent a card for every one--the girls, beautiful drawings of birds,
+insects, and scenery; the brother, a bundle of rice-paper figured with
+costumes, and papa, some clever pen-and-ink outlines of odd figures,
+which his daughters beguiled from him in his leisure moments!
+
+As to the home circle, it is enough to say that their performances were
+highly satisfactory to the makers, and were rewarded by mamma's kisses,
+and the text or verse she had secretly illuminated for each.  She had
+no time to do more, and the series were infinitely prized and laid up
+as treasures.  There were plenty of ornamental cards from without to be
+admired: the Brighton and Beechcroft aunts; the Stokesley cousins, and
+whole multitudes of friends pouring them in as usual; so that the
+entire review seemed to occupy all those free moments of the Christmas
+Day, when the young folks were neither at church, nor at meals, nor
+singing carols themselves, nor hearing the choir sing in the hall, nor
+looking over photograph books and hearing old family stories. This last
+occupation was received in the family as the regular evening pleasure,
+ending in all singing, 'When shepherds watch their flocks by night.'
+
+Dolores had a card from her aunt and each of her cousins, besides one
+of the parcel Uncle Reginald had brought.  She did not think enough of
+the very bad drawing and smeared painting of the ambitious attempts she
+received, to feel at all disconcerted at having no reciprocity to
+offer.  The only cards she had sent were to Constance Hacket, to
+Fraulein, and to Maude Sefton--the last with a sore sense of the long
+interval since she had heard.
+
+However, there was a card from Maude, but it was a very poor one,
+looking very much like a last year's possession, and the letter was not
+much better, being chiefly an apology for having been too busy to
+write.  Maude was going to lectures with Nona Styles--Nona was such a
+darling girl--and breaking off because she was wanted to rehearse
+Cinderella with this same darling Nona.
+
+It made Dolores's heart go down farther, though there was a beautiful
+and unexpected card from Mrs. Sefton, one from her former servant,
+Caroline, also from Fraulein, and three or four from old friends of her
+mother, who had remembered the solitary girl.  In truth, she had more
+beautiful ones than anybody else, but she kept these in their
+envelopes, and showed herself so much averse to free fingering and
+admiration of them that Lady Merrifield had to call off Valetta, remind
+her that her cousin had a right to her own cards, and hear in return
+that Dolores was so cross.
+
+'Dolly,' said Uncle Reginald, in a low voice, since he was permitted to
+look over the cards with her, 'I think I have found out part of your
+troubles.'
+
+She looked at him in alarm.
+
+He put his finger on a card bearing the words, 'Goodwill to men.'
+
+'Umph,' said she.  'I don't want everything of mine messed and spoilt.'
+
+And as his eye fell on Fergus's cards, he felt there was reason in what
+she said.
+
+Aunt Lily had taken her for a quarter of an hour that morning, trying
+to infuse the real thought underlying the joy that makes it Christmas,
+not only yule-tide.  But it all fell flat--it was all lessons to her--
+imposed on her on a day that she had not been used to see made what she
+called 'goody.'  Last year her father had shut himself up after church,
+and she had spent the evening in noisy mirth with the Seftons.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX
+
+
+
+Aunt Adeline was afraid of winter journeys as well as of the tumultuous
+festivities of Silverton; so at twelve o'clock.  Colonel Mohun drove
+the pony-carriage to meet the little trim Brownie who stepped out of
+the station, the porter carrying behind her a huge thing, long, and
+swathed in brown paper.  'It is quite light; it won't hurt,' she said,
+'It must go with us.  Put your legs across it, Regie.  That's right.'
+
+'Then what becomes of yours?'
+
+'Mine can go anywhere,' said Miss Mohun, crumpling herself up in some
+mysterious manner under the fur rug, while they drove off, her luggage
+sticking far off on either side of the splashboard.
+
+'What, in the name of wonder, are you smuggling in there?'
+
+'If you must know, it is the body of a mummy over whose dissection you
+will have to assist.'
+
+'Ah!  Rotherwood is coming.'
+
+'Rotherwood!'
+
+'And his little girl.  Just like him.  Lily gets a note this morning
+from London, telling her to telegraph if she can't have them by the
+5.20 train.  I've just been ordering a fly.  It seems that Lady
+Rotherwood, going to meet Ivinghoe at the station, coming from school,
+found he had measles coming out!  So they packed off his sister to
+Beechcroft without having seen him, and thence Rotherwood took her to
+London.'
+
+'And is having a fine frolic with her, no doubt; but he might as well
+have given Lily more notice, considering that a marquess or two makes
+more difference to her household than it does to his.'
+
+'Oh! she is glad enough, only in some trepidation as to how Mrs.
+Halfpenny may receive the unspecified maid that the child may bring.'
+
+'How jolly we shall be! I wish Ada had come.'
+
+'I tried to drag her out, but it gets harder and harder to shake her
+up.  You must come back with me and see her.'
+
+'I say, Jane, have you seen Maurice's child lately?'
+
+'Not very.  She wouldn't come with the others last week.'
+
+'What do you think about her?  I thought leaving her with Lily would
+have been the making of her.  Indeed, I told Maurice there could not be
+a better brought up set anywhere than the Merrifields, and that Lily
+would mother her like one of her own; and now I find her moping about,
+looking regularly down in the mouth.  I got hold of her one day and
+tried to find out what was the matter, but she only said she would not
+complain. Can they bully her?'
+
+'I'll tell you what, Maurice, Lily is a great deal too kind to her. She
+has a kind of temper that won't let them make friends with her.'
+
+'Come now! She was a nice jolly little girl at home. She and I have had
+no end of larks together, and it is hard to blame her for fretting
+after her home, poor child--Aye! I know you never liked her, or she
+might have done better with you and Ada than turned in among a lot of
+imps.'
+
+'I'm thankful it was otherwise!'
+
+'Now do, Jane, set your mind to it. Don't be prejudiced, but make those
+sharp eyes of some use. I really feel bound to give Maurice an account
+of Dolly, and tell him what is best for her.'
+
+'I believe,' said Jane, 'that there is some counter-influence at work,
+and I am trying to find it out; but, after all, I believe patience is
+the only thing, and that Lily will conquer her if nobody meddles.'
+
+''Tis not Lily I am afraid of, but her children.'
+
+'Nonsense, Regie; one would think you had never been turned loose into
+school to be licked into shape.'
+
+'She is a girl, not a cub like me.'
+
+'A worse cub, for she has not your temper, sir, and, moreover, you had
+had the wholesome discipline of a large family. Besides, nobody teases
+but Wilfred. Gillian and Mysie behave like angels to the tiresome
+puss.'
+
+'Well, I'm bound to believe you, Jenny, but I don't like the looks of
+it.'
+
+Aunt Jane's mysterious parcel was greeted rapturously, and conveyed
+into the dining-room, which had a semi-circular end, filled with glass,
+and capable of being shut off with heavy curtains when the season made
+snugness desirable. This bay had been set apart from the first for her
+operations, the tree, whose second season it was, having been taken up
+and already erected in the centre of the room, not much the worse for
+last year's excursion, for, if rather stunted, that was all the better.
+No one was excluded from the decoration thereof, since that was the
+best part of the sport to those too old for the mystery--and yet young
+enough to fasten sconces where their candles would infallibly set fire
+to the twigs above them. The only defaulters were Jasper, who had
+preferred going down to the meadows with his gun; and Dolores, who had
+retired to the drawing-room with a book, on having a paper star removed
+from immediate risk of conflagration. 'They were determined not to let
+her help,' she said.
+
+So she only emerged when the workers halted for a merry, hurried meal
+in the schoolroom, where Jasper appeared, very late, very cross at
+having had to make himself fit to be seen, and, likewise, at having
+brought home no spoil, the snipes having been so malicious as to escape
+him. Having sallied forth before the post came in, it was only now that
+it broke on him that visitors were expected, and he did not like it at
+all.
+
+'I thought we had got rid of a11 the enemy!' he growled, at his end of
+the table.
+
+'That's what he calls Constance.' thought Dolores.
+
+'Polite,' observed Gillian.
+
+'This will be worse still, being lord and ladies grumbled on Jasper, 'I
+hate swells.'
+
+'Oh! but these aren't like horrid, common, fine lords and ladies,'
+cried Mysie; 'why, you know all mamma's old stories about the fun they
+had with cousin Rotherwood.
+
+'What's the good of that!  That's a hundred years ago.  He'll just make
+mamma and Uncle Regie of no good at all! And then there's a girl too--'
+(in a tone of inconceivable disgust)  'I don't want strange girls--an
+awful stuck-up swell of a Londoner, not able to do anything!  I wish I
+had gone to spend Christmas with Bruce!  I would if I had known it was
+to be like this.'
+
+The speech brought Mysie to the verge of tears.  Aunt Jane's sharp ears
+heard it, and she looked at the head of the table, expecting to hear a
+rebuke; but Lady Merrifield turned a deaf ear on that side.  Only after
+the meal, she called her son, 'Jasper,' she said, 'I want to send a
+note to Redford, if you like to ride over with it.  You need not come
+home till eight o'clock, if it is moonlight, it the boys are
+disengaged, and if you do really wish to keep out of the way.'
+
+Jasper's eyes fell under hers.
+
+'Mamma, I don't want that.'
+
+'Only you said more than you meant, Japs. If it relieves your mind, it
+hurts other people. But I do want the note taken, so go and come back
+in time for the sports; which I don't think you will find much
+damaged.'
+
+Meantime, Aunt Jane had ensconced herself behind the curtains; where
+she admitted no one but Miss Vincent and Uncle Reginald, and in process
+of time, mamma and Macrae. The others were still fully employed in
+garnishing the tree, though it was only to bear lights, ornaments and
+sweets. All solid articles had been for some time past committed to a
+huge box, or ottoman, the veteran companion of the family travels,
+which stood in the centre of the bay. Into its capacious interior
+everybody had been dropping parcels of various sizes and shapes, with
+addresses in all sorts of hands, which were to find their destination
+on this great evening.  This was part of the mystery that kept Mysie
+and Valetta in one continual dance and caper. It was all they could do
+not to peep between the curtains when the privileged mortals went in
+and out, bearing all sorts of mysterious loads well covered up from all
+eyes.  Wilfred did make one attempt, but something extraordinary
+snapped at his nose, with a sharp crack, and drove him back with a
+start.
+
+A lamp had been taken thither, and there really was nothing more to do
+to the tree, the scraps of packing had been picked up, and the hands,
+tingling from fir-needle pricks, had been washed, though not without
+protest from Valetta that it wasn't worth while, and from Wilfred that
+it was all along of these horrid swells--!
+
+The sound of wheels summoned Lady Merrifield and her brother from the
+place of mystery, and they were in the hall when a fresh gust of keen
+air came in from the door, an ulstered figure hurried in, and something
+small and furred was put into the lady's embrace.
+
+'Here's my Fly, Lily--! Look, Fly, here they all are--all the cousins.
+Off with the hat. Let us see your funny little face.'
+
+It was a funny little smiling face, set in short, light, wavy hair, not
+exactly pretty, but with a bright, quaint, confiding look, as if used
+to be shown off by her father, and ready to make friends on the spot.
+'And how is your boy?' as the round of greetings was completed, and the
+wraps thrown off.
+
+'Going on capitally, better than he deserves, the young scamp, for
+suppressing all symptoms for fear he should be hindered from coming
+home. His mother was in a proper fright, she showed him to the doctor
+on the way, who told her to put him to bed at once, and send his sister
+out of the house. She never set eyes on him, or I would not have
+brought her here.'
+
+'I am exceedingly glad you have,' said Lady Merrifield, bending for
+another kiss.
+
+'And Lily, I've done another awful thing. Victoria kept old nurse to
+help with Ivinghoe, and we brought the Swiss bonne, Louise, away with
+us, but the poor thing found her sister very ill in London, and I
+hadn't the heart to bring her away, so Phyllis said she would do for
+herself, if your maid, or some of them, would have an eye to her.'
+
+'There! I'm doubly glad, Rotherwood! If I had any fears it was not of
+you, or Phyllis; but that like Vich Ian Vhor, she should have her tail
+on. And, oh! Rotherwood, do you know what you are in for?'
+
+'High jinks of some sort, I've no doubt. We picked up a couple of boxes
+at Gunter's and Miller's with a view thereto. Who is master of the
+revels?'
+
+'Jane. She's too deep in preparations to come forth at present.
+Gillian, will you take Phyllis to the nursery, and take care of her. We
+are to have a very high tea at half-past six; but, Rotherwood, I
+promise that another day you shall have a respectable dinner in this
+house.'
+
+'Return to the prose of life, eh, Lily? Well, Fly, what do you think of
+it?'
+
+'Oh, daddy, aren't you glad we came?' she cried, dancing off, in
+Gillian's wake, arm-in-arm with Mysie and Valetta, while he called
+after her, 'Find the boxes, and make them over to the right quarter.'
+
+This was enough to make the whole bevy of children rush away, and only
+the three elders remained. Lord Rotherwood said, 'This is short notice.
+Lily; but I did not know Reginald was here, and I thought you might
+want help. Don't be frightened, only a queer thing has happened. I went
+to W.'s bank yesterday. I thought they looked at me as if something was
+up, and by-and-by one of the partners came and took me into his private
+room.  There he showed me a cheque, and asked my opinion whether the
+writing was Maurice's. And I should say it decidedly was, but it was
+actually for seventy pounds, payable to order of Miss Dolores M.
+Mohun.'
+
+'Seventy!'
+
+'Yes, and dated the 19th of August.'
+
+'Just before Maurice went.'
+
+There was a sudden silence, for the door opened; but it was to admit
+Miss Mohun, who began, 'Oh! Rotherwood, you are too munificent. Why,
+what's the matter?' Lady Merrifield hastily explained, as far as she
+yet understood, what had brought him.
+
+'How did they get the cheque?' she asked.
+
+'Sent up from the country bank where it had been cashed--Darminster.'
+
+'Ah!' came from both the aunts.
+
+Lord Rotherwood went on. 'They asked me who Miss Dolores Mohun was, and
+I could do no otherwise than tell them, and likewise where to find her,
+but I explained that she is a mere child; and I told them I would come
+down here, so I hope you will have as little annoyance as possible.'
+
+'It is very good of you, Rotherwood, but I can't understand it at all.
+Was her name on the back?'
+
+'Certainly; I told them I thought the whole thing must be a well got up
+forgery, and a confidential clerk was to go down today to Darminster to
+try to find out who gave it in there.'
+
+'Darminster! Flinders!' ejaculated Miss Mohun.
+
+'Regie,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield; 'what did you say about having seen
+some one like Dolores at Darminster station?'
+
+'I was nearly jumping out after her. I should have said it was herself,
+if it had not been impossible. Why she was with you at Rockstone, and
+it was a pouring, dripping day,' said the colonel.
+
+'No, she was not. She begged to spend the day with Constance Hacket,
+and we picked her up as we came home. Poor child, what has she been
+doing? I have not looked after her properly.'
+
+'But need she have had anything to do with it?' said Colonel Mohun.
+'How should a cheque of Maurice's come into her possession?'
+
+'She did tell me,' said Lady Merrifield,' that her father had left one
+with her to pay for some German scientific book that might be sent for
+him.'
+
+'I see, then!' cried Miss Mohun. 'That wretch Flinders must have got
+into communication with her, and induced her to fill up her father's
+cheque for him.'
+
+'But why should it be Flinders?' said Lord Rotherwood.
+
+'Jane found out that he is living at Darminster, and has been trying to
+put me on my guard,' returned Lady Merrifield.
+
+'It is all that fellow Flinders, depend upon it,' said Colonel Mohun.
+'He is quite capable of it, and you'll find poor Dolly has nothing to
+do with it. Quite preposterous. And look here, Lily, let the poor child
+alone to enjoy herself tonight. Most likely Rotherwood's clerk, or
+detective, or whatever he may be, will have ferreted out the rights of
+the matter at Darminster. I sincerely hope he will, and have Flinders
+in custody, and then you would have upset her and accused her all for
+nothing.'
+
+'I am glad you think so, Regie,' said Lady Merrifield. 'I am thankful
+enough to wait, and hope it will be explained without spoiling the
+children's evening.'
+
+'All right,' said the visitor; 'I only hope I have not spoilt yours.'
+
+'Oh! one learns to throw things off. I shall believe it is all
+Flinders, and none of it the child's,' said Lady Merrifield, carefully
+avoiding a glance that could show her any gesture of dissent on the
+part of her sister, and only looking up for her brother's nod of
+approval. 'Besides, how foolish it would be to worry myself when I have
+two such protectors! It was very good in you, Rotherwood, I only hope
+we shall take good care of your Fly, and that her mother will be
+satisfied about her.'
+
+'She knew the little woman and I should have a lark together,' said he.
+'The governess was safe out of reach, holiday-making, so I could have
+her all to myself. Victoria suggested her brother's, and we must go
+there before we have done, but business and the pantomime by good luck
+took us to London first. So when I wrote to you from the bank, I also
+let her know that I was obliged to take the little woman down here
+first. I couldn't take her to High Court till Louise is available
+again.'
+
+'So much the better, I'm sure.'
+
+'And what I was going to say is, that Rotherwood has been startlingly
+munificent and splendid,' said Aunt Jane. 'We shall have a set of new
+surprises.'
+
+'I don't in the least know what I brought. I only told each of them to
+put up such a box as they sent out for Christmas concerns. Do precisely
+what you please with them.'
+
+'Come and see, Lily, for I think there will be enough to reserve a
+fresh lot of things for Miss Hacket's affair. By-the-by, Regie, did you
+say it rained at Darminster?'
+
+'Poured all the way down.'
+
+'Well, we had it quite fine.'
+
+'Was it fine here?'
+
+'Yes, certainly,' said Lady Merrifield,' or Primrose would not have
+gone out. Take care of Rotherwood, Regie. You know his room.'
+
+And the two sisters crossed the hall, where the 'very high tea' was
+being laid; hearing from the regions above sounds of exquisite glee and
+merriment, as perfect and almost as inexpressive of anything else as
+the singing of birds, so that they themselves could not help answering
+with a laugh, before they vanished into the chamber of mystery.
+
+Indeed, Phyllis's conversation was like a fairy tale. Her brother's
+illness, which was not enough to damp any one's spirits, had prevented
+or hindered a grand children's party as the Butterfly's Ball, where she
+was to have been the Butterfly, and Lord Ivinghoe the Grasshopper, and
+all the children were to appear as one of the characters in Roscoe's
+pretty poem. Never was anything more delightful to the imagination of
+the little cousins, and they could not marvel enough at her seeming so
+little uneasy about anything so charming, and quite ready and eager to
+throw herself headlong into all their present enjoyments, making
+wonderful surmises as to the mystery in preparation.
+
+Dolores heard the laughing, and it did not suit with her vaguely uneasy
+and injured frame of mind; feeling dreadfully lonely too, as she came
+downstairs, dressed for the evening, but not knowing where to go, for
+the dining-room was engrossed, the schoolroom was dark and the fire
+out, the drawing-room occupied by the two gentlemen. She crouched down
+in one of the big arm-chairs on either side of the hearth in the hall,
+and began to read by the firelight. Presently Jasper came in from his
+ride, and began taking off his greatcoat, leggings, and boots,
+whistling as he did so, then, perceiving the tempting object of a black
+leg sticking out of the chair, he stole up across the soft carpet, and
+caught hold of the ankle. He received a vigorous kick in return (which
+perhaps he expected) but what he did not expect was the black figure
+that rose up in outraged dignity and indignation. 'For shame! I won't
+be insulted!'
+
+'Whew! I thought 'twas Val! I beg your pardon.'
+
+'I shall ask my aunt if I am to be insulted.'
+
+'Well, if you choose to take it in that way--A man can't do more than
+beg pardon! I'm sure I would never have presumed to touch you if I had
+known it was your Dolorousness.'
+
+And he turned to walk away, just as the babbling ripple of laughter
+began to flow downstairs, and a whole mass of little girls intertwined
+together was descending. 'I always hop,' said a voice new to him,
+'except on the great staircase, and mother doesn't like it there. But
+this is such a jolly stair. Can't you hop?'
+
+Hopping in a threefold embrace on a slippery stair was hardly a safe
+pastime, and before Jasper had time to utter more than' Holloa there!
+take care!' there descended suddenly on him an avalanche of little
+girls, 'knocking him off his feet, so that all promiscuously rolled
+down two or three steps together. Fergus and Primrose, who had somehow
+been holding on behind,' remained upright, but nevertheless screaming.
+The shrieks of the fallen were, however, laughter. There was a soft rug
+below, and by the time the gentlemen had rushed out of the dining-room,
+and the ladies from the curtained recess, giggling below and legs above
+were chiefly apparent.
+
+'Any one hurt?' was of course Lady Merrifield's cry.
+
+'Oh no, mamma. Only we are so mixed up we can't get up,' called out
+Mysie.
+
+'Is this arm you or me?' exclaimed Phyllis, following up the joke.
+
+'Come, sort yourselves, ladies and gentlemen,' said Lord Rotherwood.
+'What's this, a Fly's wing?'
+
+'No, it's mine,' cried Val, as his hand pulled her out, and the others
+extricated themselves, still laughing, go that they could hardly stand,
+and Fly declaring, 'Oh, daddy, daddy, it is such fun! I am so glad we
+came,' and taking a gratuitous leap into the air.
+
+'Every one to her taste,' said Lady Merrifield, 'I congratulate those
+to whom a compound tumble-down-stairs is felicity.'
+
+'She has found her congenial element, you see,' said her father, as the
+elders proceeded upstairs to their toilette.' 'Tis laughing-gas with
+her to be with other children, and the most laughingest of all are
+naturally yours, old Lily.'
+
+Meanwhile Jasper, risen on his stocking soles, looked all over at the
+little figure, dressed old picture fashion, in the simplest white frock
+with blue sash, and short-cut hair tied back with blue.
+
+'Well, you are a jolly little girl,' he said, 'and a cool customer,
+too! What do you mean by knocking a fellow over the first time you see
+him?'
+
+'And what do you mean by coming like a great--huge--big elephant in our
+way to stop up the stairs?' demanded Fly, in return.
+
+'Do you mean to insinivate that 'twas I that made you fall?' said
+Jasper--'I, that was quietly walking up the stairs, when down there
+came on me a shower--not cats and dogs, but worserer, far worserer!
+Why, I'm kilt! my nose is flat as a pancake, I shan't recover my beauty
+all the evening for the great swells that are coming.'
+
+'Jasper, Japs,' called his mother's warning voice, 'you must come up
+and dress, for tea is going in.'
+
+He obeyed, rushing two steps at a time; but meeting, at the bottom of
+the attic flight, his sister Gillian, he demanded, 'Gill, what awfully
+jolly little girl have they got down there?'
+
+'Why, Fly, of course, Lady Phyllis Devereux--'
+
+'No, no, nothing swell, a comical little soul, with no nonsense about
+her, in a white thing.'
+
+'Well, that's Phyllis. There's no one else there.'
+
+'I say. Gill, 'tis like sunshine and clouds. She and the other, I mean.
+Why, I gave a little pull to a foot I saw in the armchair, thinking it
+belonged to Val, and out breaks my Lady of the Rueful Countenance,
+vowing she'll complain that I've insulted her; and as to the other, the
+whole lot of them tumbled over me together on the stairs, and she did
+nothing but laugh and chaff.'
+
+'I hope she is not a romp,' said the staid Gillian, sagely, as she went
+downstairs.
+
+But on that score she was soon satisfied. Phyllis Devereux was a
+thorough little lady, wild and merry as she was, and enchanted to be in
+the rare fairyland of child companionship. And that indeed she had,
+Mysie and Valetta, between whose ages she stood, hung to her
+inseparably, and Jasper was quite transformed from his grim
+superciliousness into her devoted knight. At tea-time there was a
+competition for the seats next to her, determined by Valetta's taking
+one side, in right of the birthday, and Jasper the other, because he
+secured it, and Mysie gave way to him because he was Japs, and she
+always did. While Dolores laid up a store of moralizings on the
+adulation paid to the little lady of title, and at the same time
+speculated what concatenation of circumstances could ever make her Lady
+Dolores Mohun. On the whole, it would be more likely that her father
+should gain a peerage by putting down a Fijian rebellion than that it
+should be discovered that his mother, Lady Emily, had been the true
+heiress of the marquessate, and even so, an uncomfortable number of
+people must be disposed of before it could come to him. She had one
+consolation, however, for Uncle Reginald, always kind to her, was
+particularly affectionate this evening, as if he would not have that
+little foolish Fly set up before her.
+
+The tea and the tree both went off joyously. There is no need to
+describe the spectacle to folks who can count their Christmas-trees by
+the years of their life and the memorable part of this one was that
+much of the fruit that had been left hanging on it was now
+metamorphosed into something much more gorgeous--oranges had become
+eggs full of sugar-plums, gutta-percha monkeys grinned on the branches,
+golden flowers had sprung to life on the ends of the twigs, a lovely
+jewel-like lantern crowned the whole, and as to sweets, everybody-
+servants and all--had some delightful devices containing them, whether
+drum, bird, or bird's nest.
+
+Before the distribution was over, it was observed that Aunt Jane and
+Uncle Reginald, also Harry, had vanished from the scene. There was a
+pause, during which such tapers as began to burn perilously low, were
+extinguished, an operation as delightful apparently as the fixing them.
+Presently a horn was heard, and a start or shudder of mysterious
+ecstasy pervaded the audience, as a tall figure came through the
+curtains, and announced:
+
+'Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honour to inform you that a fresh
+discovery has been made in the secret chambers of the Pyramid of Chops,
+otherwise known as Te-Gun-Ter-ra. A mummy has been disinterred, which
+is about to be opened by the celebrated Egyptologist, Herr Professor
+Freudigfeldius, who has likewise discovered the means of making such a
+conjuration of the Sphynx that she will not only summon each of the
+present company by name, but will require of each of them to reply to a
+question. The penalty of a refusal is well known!'
+
+Therewith the curtains were drawn back, and a scene was presented which
+made some of the spectators start. Behind was the semblance of a wall
+marked with the joints of large stones, and lighted (apparently) with
+two brass lamps. On the floor lay extended an enormous mummy, with the
+regulation canvas case, and huge flaps of ears, between which appeared
+a small, painted face, and below lay a long, gaily coloured scroll in
+hieroglyphics. Exalted stiffly in a seat placed on a seeming block of
+stone, was a figure, with elbows, as it were glued to its sides, and
+hands crossed, altogether stone-coloured and monumental, and with the
+true Sphynx head, surrounded with beetles, lizards, and other mystic
+creatures (very chocolate-coloured). And beside her stood the Herr
+Professor, in a red fez, long dark gown, and spectacles, a flowing
+beard concealing the rest of his face. How delightful to see such an
+Egyptologist! Even though one perfectly knew the family beard and fez;
+also that the gown was papa's old dressing-gown, captured for the
+theatrical wardrobe. And how grand to hear him speak, even though his
+broken English continually became more vernacular.
+
+'Liebes Herrschaft,' he began, 'I would, nobles, gentry, and ladies
+say. You here see the embalmed rests of the celebrated monarch Nic-nac-
+ci-no. Lately up have I them graben, and likewise his tutelar Sphynx
+have found, and have even to give signs of animation compelled.'
+
+Touching the effigy with his wand, she emitted certain growls and
+hisses, which made Primrose hide her face in alarm at anything so
+uncanny, and Lord Rotherwood observe--
+
+'Nearly related to the cat-goddess Pasht; I thought so.'
+
+'There was something of the lion or cat in the Sphynx,' said Gillian,
+gravely, while the three little girls clasped each other's hands with
+delightful thrills of awe and expectation.
+
+'Observe,' continued the Professor, 'the outer case with the features
+of the deceased is painted. I should conclude that King Nic-nac,
+etcetera, had been of a peculiarly jolly--I mean frolich--nature,
+judging by the grin on his face. We proceed--'
+
+As he laid his hand on the wrapper, the Sphynx gave utterance to sounds
+so like the bad language of a cat that some looked round for one. The
+Professor waved at her, and she subsided. He turned back the covering,
+and demanded, 'Will the amiable Fraulein there. Mademoiselle Valetta,
+come and see what treasures she can discover in the secrets of the
+tomb?'
+
+Val, who in right of her birthday, had expected the first call, jumped
+up, but the Sphynx made awful noises as she advanced, and the Professor
+explained that she would have to answer the Sphynx's question first.
+
+'But I don't know Egyptian,' she observed.
+
+'Never mind, it will sound like English.'
+
+It did so, for it was, 'How many months old art thou, maiden?'
+
+Val's arithmetic was slightly scared. She clasped her hand nervously,
+and was indebted to the Professor for the sotto voce hint, 'twelve
+nines,' before she uttered 'a hundred and eight.'
+
+The Sphynx relapsed into stoniness, and the Herr Professor guided the
+hands, which trembled a little, to the interior of the mummy, whence
+they drew out a basket, labelled (wonderful to relate) 'Val,' and
+containing--oh! such treasures, a blue egg full of needlework
+implements, a new book, an Indian ivory case, a skipping-rope, a
+shuttlecock, and other delights past description. The exhibition of
+them was only beginning when the Professor called for Primrose, who was
+too much frightened to come alone, and therefore was permitted to be
+brought by Mrs. Halfpenny. The Sphynx was particularly amiable on this
+occasion, and only asked 'When Primroses came?' and as the little one,
+in her shy fright did not reply, nurse did so, with, 'Come, missie,
+can't you find a word to tell that mamma's Primrose came in spring.'
+This was allowed to pass, and Mrs. Halfpenny bore off her child,
+clutching a doll's cradle, stuffed with pretty things, and for herself
+a bundle wrapped up in a shawl from Sir Jasper himself.
+
+After Primrose was gone to bed, the Sphynx became much more ill-
+tempered and demonstrative, snarling considerably at the approach of
+some of the party, some of whom replied with convulsive laughter, some,
+such as Jasper, with demonstrations of 'poking up the Sphynx.' She had
+a question for everybody--Fly was asked, 'Which was best, a tree or a
+Butterfly's ball?' and answered, with truthful politeness, that where
+Mysie and Val were was best of all. She carried off a collection that
+had hastily been made of Indian curiosities, photographs of her two
+friends, and a book; and her father, after being asked, 'What was the
+best of insects?' and replying,  'On the whole, I think it is my house-
+fly, even when she isn't a butterfly,' received a letter-weight of
+brass, fashioned like an enormous fly, which Lady Merrifield had
+snatched up from the table for the purpose. The maids giggled at the
+well-known conundrums proposed to them, and Dolores had a very easy
+question --'  What was the weather this day week?'
+
+'A horrid wet day,' she promptly answered, and found herself endowed
+with a parcel containing some of the best presents of all, bangles from
+the Indian box, a beautiful pair of stork-like scissors, a writing-
+case, etc.
+
+'The Sphynx's invention is running low,' observed Jasper to Gillian,
+when the creature put the same question about last week's weather to
+Herbert, the page-boy, as a prelude to his discovering the treasures of
+the mummy, as a knife and an umbrella. His view of the weather was that
+it was 'A fine day ma'am! yes, a fine day.'
+
+Macrae came last, and the Sphynx asked him which of the two contrary
+views was right.
+
+'It was fine, ma'am, that I know. For I walked down with nurse, and
+little Miss Primrose into Silverton, to help to carry her in case she
+was tired, and we never had occasion to put up an umbrella.'
+
+Wherewith Macrae received his combination of gifts and retired; the
+mummy being completely rifled, and the construction of the body, a
+frame of light, open wicker-work, revealed. Aunt Jane had had it made
+at the basketmaker's, while as to the head and covering, her own
+ingenious fingers had painted and fashioned them. Everybody had to look
+at everybody's presents, a lengthened operation, and then there was a
+splendid game at blindman's-buff in the hall, in which all the elders
+joined, except mamma, who had to go and sit in the nursery with the
+restless and excited Primrose while Mrs. Halfpenny and Lots went down
+to the servants' festivity.
+
+When she came down again, it was to quiet the tempest of merriment, and
+send off the younger folks in succession to bed, till only the four
+elders and Hal remained on the scene, waiting till there was reason to
+think the household would be ready for prayers.
+
+'It was Dolores that you saw at Darminster, Reginald,' said Miss Mohun,
+quietly.
+
+'You Sphynx woman, how do you know?'
+
+'You said it was raining at Darminster.'
+
+'Yes, that it was, everywhere beyond the tunnel through the Darfield
+hills.'
+
+'Exactly, I know they make a line in the rainfall. Well, here it was
+dry, but Dolores called it a wet day.'
+
+'Now I call that too bad, Jane, to lay a trap for the poor child in the
+game,' cried Colonel Mohun, just as if they had still been boy and girl
+together.
+
+'It was to satisfy my own mind,' she said, colouring a little. 'I
+didn't want any one to act on it. Indeed, I think there will be no
+occasion.'
+
+'Besides,' he added, 'it is nothing to go upon! No doubt, if it wasn't
+raining, it was the next thing to it here, and bow was she to recollect
+at this distance of time? I won't have her caught out in that way!'
+
+'I am glad she has a champion, Regie,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Here come
+the servants.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+A CYPHER AND A TY.
+
+
+
+Dolores was coming down to breakfast the next morning when Colonel
+Mohun's door opened. He exclaimed, 'My little Dolly, good morning!'
+stooped down and kissed her.
+
+Then, standing still a moment, and holding her hand, he said--
+
+'Dolly, it was not you I saw at Darminster station?'
+
+It was a terrible shock.  Some one, no doubt, was trying to set him
+against her.  And should she betray Constance and her uncle? At any
+rate, almost before she knew what she was saying, 'No, Uncle Regie,'
+was out of her mouth, and her conscience was being answered with 'How
+do I know it was me that he saw? these fur capes are very common.'
+
+'I thought not,' he answered, kindly. 'Look here, Dolly, I want one
+word with you. Did your father ever leave anything in charge with you
+for Mr. Flinders? Did he ever speak to you about him?'
+
+'Never,' Dolores truly answered.
+
+'Because, my dear, though it's a hard thing to say, and your poor
+mother felt bound to him, he is a slippery fellow--a scamp, in fact,
+and if ever he writes to you here, you had better send the letter
+straight off to me, and I'll see what's to be done. He never has, I
+suppose?'
+
+'No,' said Dolores, answering the word here, and foolishly feeling the
+involvement too great, and Constance too much concerned in it for her
+to confess to her uncle what had really happened. Indeed, the first
+falsehood held her to the second; and there was no more time, for Lord
+Rotherwood was coming out of his room further down the passage. And
+after the greetings, as she went downstairs before the two gentlemen,
+she was sure she heard Uncle Regie say, 'She's all right.' What could
+it mean? Was a storm averted? or was it brewing? Could that spiteful
+Aunt Jane and her questions about the weather be at the bottom of it?
+
+The fun that was going on at breakfast seemed a mere roar of folly to
+her, and she had an instinct of nothing but getting away to Constance.
+She soon found that there would be opportunity enough, for the tree was
+to be taken down in a barrow, and all the youthful world was to carry
+down the decorations in baskets, and help to put them on. She dashed
+off among the first to put on her things, and then was disappointed to
+find that first all the pets were to be fed and shown off to Fly, who
+appreciated them far more than she had done--knew how to lay hold of a
+rabbit, nursed the guinea-pigs and puppies in turn, and was rapturous
+in her acceptance of two young guinea-pigs and one puppy.
+
+'I can keep them up in daddy's dressing-room while we are at High
+Court, and it will be such fun,' she said.
+
+'Will he let you?' asked Gillian, in some doubt.
+
+'Oh! daddy will always let me, and so will Griffin--his man, you know,
+only we left him in London because daddy said he would be in your
+butler's way, but I can't think why. Griffin would have helped about
+the tree and learnt to make a mummy when we have our party. Louise
+would not let me have them in the nursery, I know, but daddy and
+Griffin would, and I could go and feed them in the morning before
+breakfast.  Griffin would get me bran! That is, if we do go to High
+Court; I wish we were to stay on here. There's nobody to play with at
+High Court, and grandpapa always keeps daddy talking politics, so that
+I can hardly ever get him! Mysie, whatever do you do with your father
+away in India?'
+
+'Yes, it is horrid. But then, there's mamma,' said Mysie, whispering,
+however, as she saw Dolores near, and feared to hurt her feelings.
+
+'Ah!' said Fly, with a tender little shake of her head; ''tis worse for
+her to have no mother at all! Is that why she looks so sad?'
+
+'Cross' is the word,' said Wilfred. 'I can't think what she is come
+bothering down here for!'
+
+'Oh! for shame, Wilfred!' said Fly.  'You should be sorry for her.'
+And she went up to Dolores, and by way of doing the kindest thing in
+the world, said--
+
+'Here's my new puppy. Is not he a dear? I'll let you hold him,' and she
+attempted to deposit the fat, curly, satiny creature in Dolores's arms,
+which instantly hung down stiff, as she answered, half in fright, 'I
+hate dogs!'  The puppy fell down with a flop, and began to squeak,
+while the girls, crying, 'Oh! Dolly, how could you!' and 'Poor little
+pup!' all crowded round in pity and indignation, and Wilfred observed,
+'I told you so!'
+
+'You'll get no change but that out of the Lady of the Rueful
+Countenance,' said Jasper.
+
+Mysie had for once nothing to say in Dolores's defence, being equally
+hurt for Fly's sake and the puppy's. Dolores found herself virtually
+sent to Coventry, as she accompanied the party across the paddock, only
+just near enough to benefit by their protection from the herd of half-
+grown calves which were there disporting themselves; and, as if to make
+the contrast still more provoking, Fly, who had a natural affinity for
+all animals, insisted on trying to attract them, calling, 'Sukkey!
+sukkey!' and hold out bunches of grass, in vain, for they only galloped
+away, and she could only explain how tame those at home were, and how
+she went out farming with daddy whenever he had time, and mother and
+Fraulein would let her out.
+
+The tree meantime came trundling down, a wonderful spectacle, with all
+its gilt balls and fir-cones nodding and dangling wildly, and its other
+embellishments turning upside down. There were greetings of delight at
+Casement Cottage, and Miss Hacket had kissed everybody all round before
+Gillian had time to present the new-comer, and then the good lady was
+shocked at her own presumption, and exclaimed--
+
+'I beg your ladyship's pardon! Dear me! I had no notion who it was!'
+
+'Then please kiss me again now you do know!' said Fly, holding up her
+funny little face to that very lovable kind one, and they were all soon
+absorbed in the difficulty of getting the tree in at the front door,
+and setting it up in the room that had been prepared for it.
+
+Dolores had hoped to confide her alarms to Constance's sympathetic ear,
+but her friend, who had written and dreamt of many a magnificently
+titled scion of the peerage, but had never before seen one in her own
+house, had not a minute to spare for her, being far too much engrossed
+in observing the habits of the animal. These certainly were peculiar,
+since she insisted on a waltz round the room with the tabby cat, and
+ascended a step-ladder, merrily spurning Jasper's protection, to insert
+the circle of tapers on the crowning chandelier. There was nothing left
+for Dolores to do but to sit by in the window-seat, philosophizing on
+the remarkable effects of a handle to one's name, and feeling cruelly
+neglected.
+
+Suddenly she saw a fly coming up to the gate. There was a general
+peeping and wondering. Then Uncle Reginald and a stranger got out and
+came up to the door. There was a ring--everybody paused and wondered
+for a moment; then the maid tapped at the door and said, 'Would Miss
+Mohun come and speak to Colonel Mohun a minute in the drawing-room?'
+
+There was a hush of dread throughout the room. 'Ah!' sighed Miss
+Hacket, looking at Gillian, and all the elders thought without saying
+that some terrible news of her father had to be told to the poor child.
+They let her go, frightened at the summons, but that idea not occurring
+to her.
+
+'There!' said Uncle Regie, 'she can set it straight. Don't be
+frightened, my dear; only tell this gentleman whether that is your
+writing.'
+
+The stranger held a strip so that she could only just see 'Dolores M.
+Mohun,' and she unhesitatingly answered 'Yes'--very much surprised.
+
+'You are sure?' said her uncle, in a tone of disappointment that made
+her falter, as she added, 'I think so.' At the same time the stranger
+turned the paper round, and she knew it for the cheque that had so long
+resided in her desk, but with dilated eyes, she exclaimed, 'But--but--
+that was for seven pounds!'
+
+'That,' said the stranger, 'then, Miss Mohun, you know this draft?'
+
+'Only it was for seven,' repeated Dolores.
+
+'You mean, I conclude, that it was drawn for seven pounds, and that it
+was still for seven when it left your handy?'
+
+'Yes,' muttered Dolores, who was beginning to get very much frightened,
+at she knew not what, and to feel on her guard at all points.
+
+'There's nothing to be afraid of, my dear,' said Uncle Reginald,
+tenderly; 'nobody suspects you of anything. Only tell us. Did your
+father give you this paper?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'And when did you cash it?' asked the clerk.
+
+Dolores hung her head. 'I didn't,' she said.
+
+'But how did it get out of your possession?' said her uncle. 'You are
+sure this is your own writing at the back. It could surely not have
+been stolen from her?' he added to the stranger.
+
+'That could hardly be,' said that person. 'Miss Mohun, you had better
+speak out. To whom did you give this cheque?'
+
+There was a whirl of terror all round about Dolores, a horror of
+bringing herself first, then Uncle Alfred, Constance, and everybody
+else into trouble. She took refuge in uttering not a word.
+
+'Dolores,' said her uncle, and his tone was now much more grave and
+less tender, thus increasing her terror; 'this silence is of no use.
+Did you give this cheque to Mr. Flinders?'
+
+In the silence, the ticks of the clock on the mantel-piece seemed like
+a hammer beating on her ears.  Dolores thought of the morning's flat
+denial of all intercourse with Flinders!  Then the word give occurred
+to her as a loophole, and her mind did not embrace all the consequences
+of the denial, she only saw one thing at a time, 'I didn't give it,'
+she answered, almost inaudibly.
+
+'You did not give it?' repeated her uncle, getting angry and speaking
+loud.  'Then how did it get into his hands? Is there no truth in you?'
+he added, after a pause, which only terrified her more and more. 'Whom
+did you give it to?'
+
+'Constance!' The word came out she hardly knew how, as something which
+at least was true. Colonel Mohun knocked at the door of the room she
+had come from. It was instantly opened, and Miss Hacket began, 'The
+poor dear! Can I get anything for her, I am sure it is a terrible
+shock!' and as he stood, astonished, Gillian added, 'Oh! I see it isn't
+that. We were afraid it was something about Uncle Maurice.'
+
+'No, my dear, no such thing. Only would Miss Constance Hacket be kind
+enough to come here a minute?'
+
+'Oh! My apron! My fingers! Excuse me for being such a figure!'
+Constance ran on, as Colonel Mohun made her come across to the room
+opposite, where she looked about her in amazement. Was the stranger a
+publisher about to make her an offer for the 'Waif of the Moorland.'
+But Dolores's down-cast attitude and set, sullen face forbade the idea.
+
+'Miss Constance Hacket,' said the colonel, 'here is an uncomfortable
+matter in which we want your assistance. Will you kindly answer a
+question or two from Mr. Ellis, the manager of the .... Bank?'
+
+Then the manager politely asked her if she had seen the cheque before.
+
+'Yes--why--what's wrong about it? Oh! It is for seventy! Why, Dolores,
+I thought it was only for seven?'
+
+'It was for seven when you parted with it, then, Miss Hacket,' said the
+manager; 'let me ask whether you changed it yourself?'
+
+'No,' she said, 'I sent it to--' and there she came to a dead pause, in
+alarm.
+
+'Did you send it to Mr. Alfred Flinders?' said Mr. Ellis.
+
+'Yes--oh!' another little scream, 'He can't have done it. He can't be
+such a villain! Your own uncle, Dolores.'
+
+'He is no uncle of Dolores Mohun!' said the colonel.  'He is only the
+son of her mother's step-mother by her first marriage.'
+
+'Oh, Dolores, then you deceived me!' exclaimed Constance; 'you told me
+he was your own uncle, or I would never--and oh! my fifteen pounds.
+Where is he?'
+
+'That, madam,' said Mr. Ellis, gravely, 'I hope the police may
+discover. He has quitted Darminster after having cashed this cheque for
+seventy pounds. We have already telegraphed to the police to be on the
+look out for him, but I much fear that it will be too late.'
+
+'Oh! my fifteen pounds! What shall I do? Oh, Dolores, how could you? I
+shall never trust any one again!'
+
+Perhaps Uncle Reginald felt the same, but he only darted a look upon
+his niece, which she felt in every nerve, though to his eyes she only
+stood hard and stolid. The manager, who found Constance's torrent of
+words as hard to deal with as Dolores's silence, asked for pen and ink,
+and begged to take down Miss Hacket's statement to lay before a
+magistrate in case of Flinders's apprehension. It was not very easy to
+keep her to the point, especially as her chief interest was in her own
+fifteen pounds, of which Mr. Ellis only would say that she could
+prosecute the man for obtaining money on false pretences, and this she
+trusted meant getting it back again.  As to the cheque in question, she
+told how Dolores had entrusted it to her to send to her supposed uncle,
+Mr. Flinders, to whom it had been promised the day they went to
+Darminster, and she was quite ready to depose that when it left her
+hands, it was only for seven pounds.
+
+This was all that the bank manager wanted. He thanked her, told Colonel
+Mohun they should hear from him, and went off in a hurry, both to
+communicate with the police, and to leave the young ladies to be dealt
+with by their friends, who, he might well suppose, would rather that he
+removed himself.
+
+'Put on your hat, Dolores,' said Colonel Mohun, gravely; 'you had
+better come home with me! Miss Hacket, excuse me, but I am afraid I
+must ask whether you have been assisting in a correspondence between my
+niece and this Flinders?'
+
+'Oh! Colonel Mohun, you will believe me, I was quite deceived. Dolores
+represented that he was her uncle, to whom she was much attached, and
+that Lady Merrifield separated her from him out of mere family
+prejudice.'
+
+'I am afraid you have paid dearly for your sympathy,' said the colonel.
+'It certainly led you far when you assisted your friend to deceive the
+aunt who trusted you with her.'
+
+The movement that was taking place seemed like licence to that roomful,
+burning with curiosity to break out. Mysie was running after Dolores to
+ask if she could do anything for her, but Colonel Mohun called her back
+with 'Not now, Mysie.'  Miss Hacket came forward with agitated hopes
+that nothing was amiss, and, at sight of her, Constance collapsed
+quite. 'Oh, Mary,' she cried out, 'I have been so deceived! Oh! that
+man!' and she sunk upon a chair in a violent fit of crying, which
+alarmed Miss Hacket so dreadfully that she looked imploringly up to
+Colonel Mohun. He had meant to have left Miss Constance to explain, but
+he saw it was necessary to relieve the poor elder sister's mind from
+worse fears by saying, 'I am afraid it is my niece who deceived her, by
+leading her into forwarding letters and money to a person who calls
+himself a relation. He seems to have been guilty of a forgery, which
+may have unpleasant consequences. Children, I think you had better
+follow us home.'
+
+Dolores had come down by this time, and Colonel Mohun walked home, at
+some paces from her, very much as if he had been guarding a criminal
+under arrest.  Poor Uncle Reginald!  He had put such absolute trust in
+the two answers she had made him in the morning; and had been so sure
+of her good faith, that when the manager brought word that the cheque
+had been traced to Flinders, who had absconded, he still held that it
+was a barefaced forgery, entirely due to Flinders himself, and that
+Dolores could show that she had no knowledge of it, and he had gone
+down in the fly expecting to come home triumphant, and confute his
+sister Jane, who persisted in being mournfully sagacious. And he was
+indignant in proportion to the confidence he had misplaced; grieved,
+too, for his brother's sake, and absolutely ashamed.
+
+Once he asked, when they were within the paddock, out of the way of
+meeting any one, 'Have you nothing to say to me, Dolores?'
+
+It was not said in a manner to draw out an answer, and she made none at
+all.
+
+Again he spoke, as they came near the house:
+
+'You had better go up to your room at once. I do not know how to think
+of the blow this will be to your father.'
+
+It was so entirely what Dolores was thinking of, that it seemed to her
+barbarous to tell her of it  In fact she was stunned, scarcely
+understanding what had happened, and too proud and miserable to ask for
+an explanation, for had not every one turned against her, even Uncle
+Reginald and Constance--and what had happened to that cheque?
+
+She did not see Uncle Reginald turn into the drawing-room, and letting
+himself drop despairingly into an armchair, say, 'Well, Jane, you were
+right, more's the pity!'
+
+'She really gave him the cheque!'
+
+'Yes, but at least it was only for seven.  The rascal himself must have
+altered it into seventy.  She and the other girl both agree as to that.
+There's been a clandestine correspondence going on with that scamp ever
+since she has been here, under cover to that precious friend of hers--
+that Hacket girl.'
+
+'Ah! you warned me, Jenny,' said Lady Merrifield 'But I'm quite sure
+Miss Hacket knew nothing of it'
+
+'I don't suppose she did. She seemed struck all of a heap. Any way
+they've quarrelled now; the other one has turned King's evidence--has
+lost some money too, and says Dolores deceived her.  She's deceived
+every one all round, that's the fact. Why she told me two flat lies
+this very morning--lies--there's no other name for it. What will you do
+with her, Lily?'
+
+'I don't know,' said Lady Merrifield, utterly shocked, and
+recollecting, but not mentioning, the falsehood told to her about the
+note. Lord Rotherwood said, 'Poor child,' and Colonel Mohun groaned,
+'Poor Maurice.'
+
+'Then she did go to Darminster?' said Miss Mohun.
+
+'Yes; that came out from this Miss Constance, who seems to have been
+properly taken in about some publishing trash. Serve her right! But it
+seems Dolores beguiled her with stories about her dear uncle in
+distress. We left her nearly in hysterics, and I told the children to
+come away.'
+
+'What does Dolores say?' asked Jane.
+
+'Nothing! I could not get a word out of her after the first surprise at
+the alteration of the cheque. Not a word nor a tear. She is as hard--as
+hard as a bit of stone.'
+
+'Really,' said Lady Merrifield, 'I can't help thinking there's a good
+deal of excuse for her.'
+
+'What? That poor Maurice's wife was half a heathen, and afterwards the
+girl was left to chance?' said Colonel Mohun. 'I see no other. And you,
+Lily, are the last person I should expect to excuse untruth.'
+
+'I did not mean to do that, Regie; but you all say that poor Mary was
+fond of this man and helped him.'
+
+'That she did!' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and very much against the grain
+it went with Maurice.'
+
+'Then don't you see that this poor child, who probably never had the
+matter explained to her, may have felt it a great hardship to be cut
+off from the man her mother taught her to care for; and that may have
+led her into concealments?'
+
+'Well!' said Colonel Mohun, 'at that rate, at least one may be thankful
+never to have married.'
+
+'One--or two, Regie?' said Jane, as they all laughed at his sally. 'I
+think I had better go up and see whether I can get anything out of the
+child. Do you mean to have her down to dinner, Lily,' she added,
+glancing at the clock.
+
+'Oh yes, certainly.  I don't want to put her to disgrace before all the
+children and servants--that is, if she is not crying herself out of
+condition to appear, poor child.'
+
+'Not she,' said Uncle Reginald.
+
+On opening the door, the children were all discovered in the hall, in
+anxious curiosity, not venturing in uncalled, but very much puzzled.
+
+Gillian came forward and said, 'Mamma, may we know what is the matter?'
+
+'I hardly understand it myself yet, my dear, only that Dolores and
+Constance Hacket have let themselves be taken in by a sort of relation
+of Dolores's mother, and Uncle Maurice has lost a good deal of money
+through it. It would not have happened if there had been fair and
+upright dealing towards me; but we do not know the rights of it, and
+you had better take no notice of it to her.'
+
+'I thought,' said Valetta, sagaciously, 'no good could come of running
+after that stupid Miss Constance.'
+
+'Who can't pull a cracker, and screams at a daddy long-legs,' added
+Fergus.
+
+'But, mamma, what shall we do?' said Gillian. 'I came away because
+Uncle Regie told us, and Constance was crying so terribly; but what is
+poor Miss Hacket to do? There is the tree only half dressed, and all
+the girls coming to-night, unless she puts them off.'
+
+'Yes, you had better go down alone as soon as dinner is over, and see
+what she would like,' said Lady Merrifield. 'We must not leave her in
+the lurch, as if we cast her off, though I am afraid Constance has been
+very foolish in this matter.  Oh, Gillian, I wish we could have made
+Dolores happier amongst us, and then this would not have happened.'
+
+'She would never let us, mamma,' said Gillian.
+
+But Mysie, coming up close to her mother as they all went up the broad
+staircase to prepare for the midday meal, confessed in a grave little
+voice, 'Mamma, I think I have sometimes been cross to Dolly-more
+lately, because it has been so very tiresome.'
+
+Lady Merrifield drew the little girl into her own room, stooped down,
+and kissed her, saying, 'My dear child, these things need a great deal
+of patience. You will have to be doubly kind and forbearing now, for
+she must be very unhappy, and perhaps not like to show it. You might
+say a little prayer for her, that God will help us to be kind to her,
+and soften her heart.'
+
+'Oh yes, mamma; and, please, will you set it down for me?'
+
+'Yes, my dear, and for myself too. You shall have it before bed-time.'
+
+Aunt Jane had followed Dolores to her own room the girl, who was
+sitting on her bed, dazed, regretted that she had not bolted her door,
+as her aunt entered with the words, 'Oh, Dolores, I am very sorry I
+could not have thought you would so have abused the confidence that was
+placed in you.'
+
+To this Dolores did not answer. To her mind she was the person ill-used
+by the prohibition of correspondence, but she could not say so. Every
+one was falling on her; but Aunt Jane's questions could not well help
+being answered.
+
+'What will your father think of if?'
+
+'He never forbade me to write to Uncle Alfred' said Dolores.
+
+'Because he never thought of your doing such a thing. Did he give you
+this cheque?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'For yourself?'
+
+'N-n-o. But it was the same.'
+
+'What do you mean by that?'
+
+'It was to pay a man--a man's that's dead.'
+
+'That may be; but what right did that give you to spend the money
+otherwise? Who was the man?'
+
+'Professor Muhlwasser, for some books of plates.'
+
+'How do you know he is dead! Who told you so? Eh! Was it Flinders? Ah!
+you see what comes of trusting to an unprincipled man like that.  If
+you had only been open and straightforward with Aunt Lily, or with any
+of us, you would have been saved from this tissue of falsehood;
+forfeiting your Uncle Reginald's good opinion, and enabling Flinders to
+do your father this great injury.' She paused, and, as Dolores made no
+answer, she went on again--'Indeed, there is no saying what you have
+not brought on yourself by your deceit and disobedience.  If Flinders
+is apprehended, you will have to appear against him in court, and
+publicly avow that you gave away what your father trusted to you.'
+
+Dolores gave a little moan and start, and her aunt, perceiving that she
+had touched an apparently vulnerable spot, proceeded--'The only thing
+left for you to do is to tell the whole story frankly and honestly. I
+don't say so only for the sake of showing Aunt Lily that you are sorry
+for having abused her confidence. I wish I could think that you are;
+but, unless we know all, we cannot shield you from any further
+consequences, and that of course we should wish to do, for your
+father's sake.'
+
+Dolores did not feel drawn to confession, but she knew that when Aunt
+Jane once set herself to ask questions, there was no use in trying to
+conceal anything. So she made answers, chiefly 'Yes' or No,' and her
+aunt, by severe and diligent pumping, had extracted bit by bit what it
+was most essential should be known, before the gong summoned them.
+Dolores would rather have been a solitary prisoner, able to chafe
+against oppression, than have been obliged to come down and confront
+everybody; but she crept into the place left for her between Mysie and
+Wilfred. She had very little appetite, and never found out how Mysie
+was fulfilling her resolution of kindness by baulking Wilfred of sundry
+attempts to tease; by substituting her own kissing-crust for Dolly's
+more unpoetical piece of bread; and offering to exchange her delicious
+strawberry-jam tartlet for the black-currant one at which her cousin
+was looking with reluctant eyes.
+
+Mysie and Valetta were grievously exercised about their chances of
+returning to the G.F.S. Tree. Indeed Gillian went the length of telling
+them that Fly was behaving far better in her disappointment as to the
+Butterfly's Ball than they were as to this 'old second-hand tree.' Fly
+laughed and observed, 'Dear me, things one would like are always being
+stopped. If one was to mind every time, how horrid it would be! And
+there's always something to make up!'
+
+Then it occurred to Gillian, though not to her younger sisters, that
+Lady Phyllis Devereux lived in general a much less indulged, and more
+frequently disappointed, life than did herself and her sisters.
+
+However, there was great delight at that dinner-table. Jasper had
+ridden to get the letters of the second post, and Lord Rotherwood had
+his hands and his head full of them when he came in to luncheon--there
+being what Lady Merrifield called a respectable dinner in view.  In the
+first place. Lord Ivinghoe was getting on very well, and was up,
+sitting by the fire, playing patience. Nobody was catching the measles,
+and quarantine would be over on the 9th of January. Secondly, 'Fly,
+shall you be very broken-hearted if I tell you.'
+
+'Oh, daddy, you wouldn't look like that if it was anything very bad!
+Lion isn't dead?'
+
+'No; but I grieve to say your unnatural grand-parents don't want you!
+Grandmamma is nervous about having you without mamma. What did we do
+last time we were there, Fly?'
+
+'Don't you remember, daddy? they said there was nothing for me to ride
+to the meet, and you and Griffin put the side-saddle on Crazy Kate, and
+we went out with the hounds, and I've got the brush up in my room!'
+
+'I don't wonder grandmamma is nervous,' observed Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Will you be nervous, Lily,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'if this same
+flyaway mortal is left on your hands till the 9th?'
+
+Dinner, manners, silence before company, and all, could not repress a
+general scream of ecstacy, which called forth the reply. 'I should
+think you and her mother were the people to be nervous.
+
+'Oh! my lady has been duly instructed in Merrifield perfections, and
+esteems you a model mother.'
+
+The children's nods and smiles said 'Hear, hear!'
+
+'Well, you've got it all in her own letter,'  continued Lord
+Rotherwood.  'You see, they've got a caucus at High Court, and a
+dinner, and I must go up there on Monday; but if you'll keep this
+dangerous Fly--'
+
+'I can answer for the pleasure it will give,'
+
+'Well then, I'll come back for her by the 9th, and you've Victoria's
+letter, haven't you?'
+
+'Yes, it is very kind of her.'
+
+'Then I shall expect you to be ready to start with me for the
+Butterfly's Ball.  Eh, young ladies, what will you come out as?'
+
+'Oh daddy, daddy, is it?  Has mamma asked them?  Oh! it is more
+delicious than anything ever was.  Mysie, Mysie, what will you be?'
+
+'The sly little dormouse crept out of his hole,' quoted Mysie, in a
+very low, happy voice.
+
+'And I will be a jolly old frog,' shouted Fergus, finding the ordinance
+of silence broken and making the most of it, on the presumption that
+the whole family were invited.  However, the tone, rather than the
+uncomprehended words of his mother's answer, 'Nobody asked you, sir,'
+she said, reduced him to silence, and it became understood, through
+Fly's inquiries, that the invitation included Lady Merrifield must make
+her acceptance doubtful.  And besides, the question which three were to
+go was the unspoken drawback to full bliss, and yet the delight was
+exceedingly great in the prospect, great enough to make the contrast of
+gloom in poor Dolores's spirit all the darker, as she sat, left out of
+everything, and she could not now say, with absolute injustice, though
+she still clung to the belief that there was more misfortune than fault
+in her disgrace.
+
+She crept away, shivering with unhappiness, to the schoolroom, while
+the others frisked off discussing the wonderful Butterfly's Ball.  Lady
+Merrifield looked in on her, and she hardened herself to endure either
+another probing or fresh reproaches, but all she heard was, 'My dear,
+I cannot talk over this sad affair now, as I have to go out. But, if
+you can, I think you had better write to your father about it, and let
+him understand exactly how it happened. Or, if you had rather write
+than speak in explaining it to me, you can do so, and we can consider
+tomorrow what is to be done about it.'
+
+Then she went out with her brother and cousin to drive to some
+Industrial schools which Lord Rotherwood wanted to see.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL.
+
+
+
+Miss Mohun went to the Casement Cottages with Gillian to see what the
+elder Miss Hacket might wish and whether they could be of use to her;
+the young people being left to exercise themselves within call in case
+the Tree was to be continued.
+
+This proved to be an act of great kindness, for poor Mary Hacket was
+suffering all the distress of an upright and honourable woman at her
+sister's abuse of confidence; and had felt as if Colonel Mohun's
+summons to his nieces was the close of all intimacy with such an
+unworthy household. Moreover, the evenings entertainment could not be
+given up and Gillian was despatched to summon the eager assistants,
+while Aunt Jane repeated her assurances that Lady Merrifield perfectly
+understood Miss Hacket's ignorance of the doings in Constance's room--
+listening patiently even when the tender-hearted woman began to excuse
+her sister for having accepted Dolores's lamentations at being cut off
+from her so. called uncle. 'Dear Connie is so romantic, and so easily
+touched,' she said, 'though, of course, it was very wrong of her to
+suppose that Lady Merrifield could do anything harsh or unkind. She is
+in great grief now, poor darling, she feels so bitterly that her friend
+led her into it by deceiving her about the relationship and character.'
+
+This, Aunt Jane did not think the worst part of the affair, and she
+said that the girl had been brought up to call the man Uncle Alfred,
+and very possibly did not understand that he was only so by courtesy,
+nor that he was so utterly untrustworthy.
+
+'I thought so,' said Mary Hacket. 'I told Connie that such a child
+could not possibly have been a willing party to his fraud--for fraud, I
+fear, it was--Miss Mohun. Do you think there is any hope of her
+recovering the sum she advanced.'
+
+'I am afraid there is not, even if the wretched man is apprehended.'
+
+'Ah! if she had only told me what she wanted it for!'
+
+'I hope it was all her own.'
+
+'Oh, Miss Mohun, no doubt you know that two sisters living together
+must accommodate one another a little, and Connie's dress expenses, at
+her age, are necessarily more than mine. But here come the dear
+children, and we ought to dismiss all painful subjects, though I
+declare I am so nervous I hardly know what I am about.'
+
+However, by Miss Mohun's help, the good lady rose to the occasion, and
+when once busy, the trouble was thrown off, so that no guests would
+have detected how unhappy she had been in the forenoon.  Constance soon
+came down, and confided to Gillian a parcel directed to Miss D. Mohun,
+containing all the notes written to her, and all the books lent to her,
+by the false friend whom she had cast off, after which she threw
+herself into the interests of the present.
+
+The London ornaments, and the residue of the gifts and bonbons, made
+the Christmas-tree a most memorable one to the G.F.S. mind.
+
+As to Fly, she fraternized to a great extent with a very small maid, in
+a very long, brown dress, and very thick boots, who did not taste a
+single bonbon, and being asked whether she understood that they were
+good to eat, replied that she was keeping them for  'our Bertie and
+Minnie;'  and, on encouragement, launched into such a description of
+her charges--the blacksmith's small children--that Lady Phyllis went
+back, not without regrets that she could not be a little nurse who had
+done with school at twelve years old, and spent her days at the back of
+a perambulator.
+
+'Oh, daddy,' she said, 'I do wish you had come down; it was such lovely
+fun--the best tree I ever saw.  Why wouldn't you come?'
+
+'If thirty odd years should pass over that little head of yours, my
+Lady Fly, and you should then meet with Mysie and Val, maybe you will
+then learn the reason why.'
+
+'We will recollect that in thirty years' time.'
+
+'When our children go to a Christmas-tree.'
+
+'And we sit over the fire instead.'
+
+'Oh! but should we ever not care for a dear, delightful Christmas-
+tree?'
+
+'If we had each other instead.'
+
+'Then we would all go still together!'
+
+'And tell our little boys and girls all about this one, and the
+Butterfly's Ball!'
+
+'Perhaps our husbands would want us, and not let us go.'
+
+'Oh! I don't want a husband.  He'd be in the way.  We'd send him off to
+India or somewhere, like Aunt Lily's.'
+
+'Don't, Fly; it is not at all nice to have papa away.'
+
+'Oh yes, it would be ten hundred times better if he were at home.'
+
+Such were the mingled sentiments of the triad, as they went upstairs to
+bed, linked together in their curious fashion.
+
+Some time later, a bedroom discussion of affairs was held by Lady
+Merrifield and Miss Mohun, who had not had a moment alone together all
+day, to converse upon the two versions of the disaster which the latter
+had extracted from Dolores and Constance, and which fairly agreed,
+though Constance had been by far the most voluble, and somewhat
+ungenerously violent against her former friend, at least so Lady
+Merrifield remarked.
+
+'You should take into account the authoress's disappointed vanity.'
+
+'Yes, poor thing! How he must have nattered her!'
+
+'Besides, there is the loss of the money, which, I fear, falls as
+seriously on good Miss Hacket as on the goose herself.'
+
+'Does it, indeed?  That must not be.  How much is it?'
+
+'Fifteen pounds; and that foolish Constance fancies that poor Dolores
+assisted in duping her.  I really had to defend the girl; though I am
+just as angry myself when I watch her adamantine sullenness.'
+
+'I am the person to be angry with for having allowed the intimacy, in
+spite of your warnings, Jenny.'
+
+'You were too innocent to know what girls are made of.  Oh yes, you are
+very welcome to have six of your own, but you might have six dozen
+without knowing what a girl brought up at a second-rate boarding-school
+is capable of, or what it is to have had no development of conscience.
+What shall you do?  send her to school?'
+
+'After that recommendation of yours?'
+
+'I didn't propose a second-rate boarding-school, ma'am.  There's a High
+School starting after the holidays at Rockstone.  Let me have her, and
+send her there.'
+
+'Ada would not like it.'
+
+'Never mind Ada, I'll settle her.  I would keep Dolly well up to her
+lessons, and prevent these friendships.'
+
+'I suppose you would manage her better than I have been able to do,'
+said Lady Merrifield, reluctantly.  'Yet I should like to try again; I
+don't want to let her go.  Is it the old story of duty and love, Jane?
+Have I failed again through negligence and ignorance, and deceived
+myself by calling weakness and blindness love?'
+
+'You don't fail with your own, Lily.  Rotherwood runs about admiring
+them, and saying he never saw a better union of freedom and obedience.
+It was really a treat to see Gillian's ways tonight; she had so much
+consideration, and managed her sisters so well.'
+
+'Ah, but there's their father!  I do so dread spoiling them for him
+before he comes home; but then he is a present influence with us all
+the time.'
+
+'They would all clap their hands if I carried Dolly off.'
+
+'Yes, and that is one reason I don't want to give her up; it seems so
+sad to send Maurice's child away leaving such an impression.  One thing
+I am.  thankful for, that it will be all over before grandmamma and
+Bessie Merrifield come.'
+
+At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a small figure
+appeared in a scarlet robe, bare feet, and dishevelled hair.
+
+'Mysie, dear child!  What's the matter? who is ill?'
+
+'Oh, please come, mamma, Dolly is choking and crying in such a dreadful
+way, and I can't stop her.'
+
+'I give up, Lily.  This is mother-work,' said Miss Mohun.
+
+Hurrying upstairs, Lady Merrifield found very distressing sounds
+issuing from Dolores's room; sobs, not loud, but almost strangled into
+a perfect agony of choking down by the resolute instinct, for it was
+scarcely will.
+
+'My dear, my dear, don't stop it!' she exclaimed, lifting up the girl
+in her arms.  'Let it out; cry freely; never mind.  She will be better
+soon, Mysie dear.  Only get me a glass of water, and find a fresh
+handkerchief.  There, there, that's right!'  as Dolores let herself
+lean on the kind breast, and conscious that the utmost effects of the
+disturbance had come, allowed her long-drawn sobs to come freely, and
+moaned as they shook her whole frame, though without screaming.  Her
+aunt propped her up on her own bosom, parted back her hair, kissed her,
+and saying she was getting better, sent Mysie back to her bed.  The
+first words that were gasped out between the rending sobs were, 'Oh! is
+my--he--to be tried?'
+
+'Most likely not, my dear.  He has had full time to get away, and I
+hope it is so.'
+
+'But wasn't he there?  Haven't they got him?  Weren't they asking me
+about him, and saying I must be tried for stealing father's cheque?'
+
+'You were dreaming, my poor child.  They have not taken him, and I am
+quite sure you will not be tried anyway.'
+
+'They said--Aunt Jane and Uncle Reginald and all, and 'that dreadful
+man that came--'
+
+'Perhaps they said you might have to be examined, but only if he is
+apprehended, and I fully expect that he is out of reach, so that you
+need not frighten yourself about that, my dear.'
+
+'Oh, don't go!' cried Dolores, as her aunt stirred.
+
+'No, I'm not going.  I was only reaching some water for you.  Let me
+sponge your face.'
+
+To this Dolores submitted gratefully, and then sighed, as if under
+heavy oppression, 'And did he really do it?'
+
+'I am afraid he must have done so.'
+
+'I never thought it.  Mother always helped him.'
+
+'Yes, my dear, that made it very hard for you to know what was right to
+do, and this is a most terrible shock for you,' said her aunt, feeling
+unable to utter another reproach just then to one who had been so
+loaded with blame, and she was touched the more when Dolores moaned,
+'Mother would have cared so much.'
+
+She answered with a kiss, was glad to find her hand still held, and
+forgot that it was past eleven o'clock.
+
+'Please, will it quite ruin father?' asked Dolores, who had not out-
+grown childish confusion about large sums of money.
+
+'Not exactly, my dear.  It was more than he had in the bank, and Uncle
+Regie thinks the bankers will undertake part of the loss if he will let
+them.  It is more inconvenient than ruinous.'
+
+'Ah!'  There was a faintness and oppression in the sound which made
+Lady Merrifield think the girl ought not to be left, and before long,
+sickness came on.  Nurse Halfpenny had to be called up, and it was one
+o'clock before there was a quiet, comfortable sleep, which satisfied
+the aunt and nurse that it was safe to repair to their own beds again.
+
+The dreary, undefined self-reproach and vague alarms, intensified by
+the sullen, reserved temper, and culminating in such a shock,
+alienating the only persons she cared for, and filling her with terror
+for the future, could not but have a physical effect, and Dolores was
+found on the morrow with a bad head-ache, and altogether in a state to
+be kept in bed, with a fire in her room.
+
+Gillian and Mysie were much impressed by the intelligence of their
+cousin's illness when they came to their mother's room on the way to
+breakfast, and Mysie turned to her sister, saying, 'There Gill, you see
+she did care, though she didn't cry like us.  Being ill is more than
+crying.'
+
+'Well,'  said Gillian, 'it is a good deal more than such things as you
+and Val cry for, Mysie.'
+
+'It was a trial such as you don't understand, my dears,' said Lady
+Merrifield.  'I don't, of course, excuse much that she did, but she had
+been used to see her mother make every exertion to help the man.'
+
+'That does make a difference,' said Gillian, 'but she shouldn't have
+taken her father's money.  And wasn't it dreadful of Constance to
+smuggle her letters?  I'm quite glad Constance gets part of the
+punishment.'
+
+'Certainly, that might be just, Gillian, but unfortunately the loss
+falls infinitely more heavily upon Miss Hacket, who cannot afford the
+loss at all.'
+
+'Oh dear!' cried Mysie.
+
+'I'm very sorry,' said Gillian.
+
+'And, my dear girls, in all honour and honesty, we must make it up to
+her.'
+
+'Can't we save it out of our allowance?' said Mysie.
+
+'Sixpence a month from you, a shilling perhaps from Gill, how long
+would that take?  No, my dear girls, I am going to put you to a heavy
+trial.'
+
+'Oh, mamma, don't!' cried Gillian, seeing what she was driving at.
+'Don't give up the Butterfly's Ball.'
+
+'Oh, don't!'  implored Mysie, tears starting in her eyes.  'We never
+saw a costume ball, and Fly wishes it so.'
+
+'And I thought you had promised,' said Gillian.
+
+'Cousin Rotherwood assumes that I did; but I did not really accept.  I
+told him I could not tell, for you know your Grandmamma Merrifield
+talked of coming here, and I cannot put her off.  And now I see that it
+must be given up.'
+
+'It need only be calico!' sighed Gillian, sticking pins in and out of
+the pincushion.
+
+'Fancy dresses even in calico are very expensive.  Besides, I could not
+go to a place like Rotherwood without at least two new dresses, and it
+is not right to put papa to more expense.'
+
+'Oh, mamma! couldn't you?  You always do look nicer than any one,' said
+Mysie.
+
+'My dear, I am afraid nothing I have at present would be suitable for a
+General's wife at Lady Rotherwood's party, and we must think of what
+would be fitting both towards our hostess and papa.  Don't you see?'
+
+'Ah! your velvet dress!' sighed Gillian.
+
+'My poor old faithful state apparel,' smiled Lady Merrifield.  'Poor
+Gill, you did not think again to have to mourn for it, but I don't know
+that even that could have been sufficiently revivified, though it was
+my cheval de bataille for so many years.
+
+For Lady Merrifield's black velvet of many years' usefulness, had been
+put on for her p.p.c. party at Belfast, when Gillian, in abetting
+Jasper in roasting chestnuts over a paraffin-lamp, had set herself and
+the tablecloth on fire, and had been extinguished with such damages as
+singed hair, a scar on Jasper's hands, and the destruction of her
+mother's 'front breadth.'  There had been such relief and thankfulness
+at its being no worse that the 'state apparel' had not been much
+mourned, especially as the remains made a charming pelisse for
+Primrose;  and in the retirement of Silverton, it had not been missed
+till the present occasion.
+
+'Do gowns cost so very much?' said Mysie.
+
+'Indeed they do, my poor Mouse.  The lamented cost more than twenty
+pounds.  I had been thinking whether I could afford the requisite
+garments--not quite so costly--and thought I might get them for about
+sixteen, with contrivance; but you see I feel it my fault that I let
+Dolores go and lead Constance to get cheated, and I cannot take the
+money out of what papa gives for household expenses and your education,
+so it must come out of my own personal allowance.  Don't you see?'
+
+'Ye--es,'  said Gillian, apparently intent on getting a big, black-
+headed pin repeatedly into the same hole, while Mysie was trying with
+all her might not to cry.
+
+'You are thinking it is very hard that you should suffer for Dolly's
+faults.  Perhaps it is, but such things may often happen to you, my
+dears.  Christians bear them well for love's sake, you know.'
+
+'And it is a little my fault,' said Gillian, thoughtfully;  'for it was
+I that let the chestnut fall into the lamp.'
+
+'I--I don't think I should have minded so much,' said Mysie, almost
+crying, 'if we had done it our own selves--and Fly too--for some very
+poor woman in the snow.'
+
+'I know that very well, Mysie, and this is a much harder trial, as you
+don't get the honour and glory of it; and, besides, you will have to
+take care to say not a word of this reason to Fly or Valetta, or any
+one else.'
+
+'Val will be awfully disappointed,' said Gillian.
+
+'Poor Val!  But I should not have taken her anyway, so that matters the
+less.  I should have taken Jasper, for that would have been more
+convenient than so many girls.  In fact, I did not mean anybody to have
+heard of it till I had made up my mind, so that there would have been
+no disappointment; but that naughty Cousin Rotherwood could not keep it
+to himself; and so, my poor maidens, you have to bear it with a good
+grace, and to be treated as my confidential friends.'
+
+Mysie smiled and kissed her mother--Gillian cleared somewhat, but
+observing, 'I only wish it wasn't clothes;'  tried to dismiss the
+subject as the gong began to sound, but Mysie caught her mother's
+dress, and said, 'Mayn't I tell Fly, for a great secret?'
+
+'No, my dear, certainly not.  Fly is a dear little girl, but we don't
+know how she can keep secrets, and it would never do to let the
+Rotherwoods know; papa and Uncle William would be exceedingly annoyed.
+And only think of Miss Hacket's feelings if it came round.  It will be
+hard enough to get her to take it now.'
+
+'Perhaps she won't,' flashed into the minds of both girls; but Mysie
+said entreatingly, 'One moment more, mamma, please! What can I say to
+Fly that will be the truth?'
+
+'Say that I find we cannot go, and that I had never promised,' said
+Lady Merrifield.  'I trust you, my dears.'
+
+And as she opened the door to hurry down to prayers, the two sisters
+felt the words very precious and inspiriting.  Mysie lingered on the
+step and bravely asked Gillian whether her eyes looked like crying--
+
+'No, only a little twinkly,' answered the elder sister; 'they will be
+all right after prayers if you don't rub them.'
+
+'No, I won't, said Mysie; "I'll try to mean 'Thy will be done.'  For I
+suppose it is His will, though it is mamma's."
+
+'I'm glad you thought of that, Mysie,' said Gillian; 'you see it is
+mamma's goodness.'  And Gillian added to herself, "dear little Mysie
+too.  If it had not been for her, I believe I should have 'grizzled'
+all prayer-time, and now I hope I shall attend instead."
+
+When everybody rose up from their knees, Lady Merrifield was glad to
+see two fairly cheerful faces.  She tried to lessen the responsibility
+of the confidants, and to get the matter settled by telling Lord
+Rotherwood at once and publicly that she had thought his kind
+invitation over, and that she found she must not accept it.  Perhaps
+she warily took the moment after she had seen the postman coming up the
+drive, for he had only time to say, 'Now, that's too bad, Lily, you
+don't mean it,' and she to answer, 'Yes, in sad earnest, I do,'  before
+the letters came in, and the attention of the elders was taken off by
+the distribution.
+
+But Valetta whispered to Gillian, 'Not going; oh why?'
+
+'No; never mind, you wouldn't have gone, anyway--hush--' said Gillian,
+beginning, it may be, a little sharply, but then becoming dismayed as
+Valetta, perhaps a little unhinged by the late pleasures, burst forth
+into such a fit of crying as made everybody look up, and her mother
+tell her to go away if she could not behave better.  Gillian,
+understanding a sign of the head as permission, led her away, hearing
+Lord Rotherwood observe,--
+
+'There, you cruel party!' before again becoming absorbed in his letter.
+
+'Oh dear!' sighed Fly, turning to Mysie as they rose from table, 'I am
+so sorry! It would have been so nice; and I thought we were safe, as
+mamma had written herself!'
+
+'Ah! but my mamma hadn't accepted,' said Mysie.
+
+Phyllis seemed to take this as final, and sighed, but Mysie presently
+exclaimed, 'I say! can't we all play at Butterfly's Ball in the hall
+after lessons?'
+
+'Lessons?' said Fly; 'but it's holiday-time?'
+
+'Mamma always makes us do a sort of little lesson, even in the
+holidays, as she says we get naughty.  But I suppose you need not; and
+perhaps she will not make us now you are here.'
+
+Colonel Mohun and Lord Rotherwood were going to Darminster to see what
+was the state of the investigation about Mr.  Flinders.  They set out
+directly after breakfast, and after the feeding of the pets, where
+Valetta joined them, much consoled by the prospect of the extemporary
+Butterfly's Ball at home, Lady Phyllis, with her usual ready
+adaptability, repaired with the others to the schoolroom, where the
+Psalms and Lessons were read, and a small amount of French reading in
+turn from 'En Quarantaine' followed, with accompaniment of needlework
+or drawing, after which the children were free.
+
+Aunt Jane was going home to her Sunday school and the Rockstone
+festivities.  She came down for her final talk with her sister just in
+time to perceive the folding up of three five-pound notes.
+
+'Lily,' she said, with instant perception, 'I could beat myself for
+what I told you yesterday.'
+
+Lady Merrifield laughed.  'The girls are very good about it!' she said.
+'Now you have found it out, see whether that note will make Miss
+Hacket swallow it.'
+
+'Can't be better! But oh.  Lily, it is disgusting! Could not I rig up
+something fanciful for the children?'
+
+'That's not so much the point.  'The General's lady,' as Mrs.
+Halfpenny would say, is bound not to look like 'ane scrub,' as she
+would be unwelcome to Victoria, and what would be William's feelings?
+I could hardly have accomplished it even with this, and the catastrophe
+settles the matter.'
+
+'You could not get into my black satin?'
+
+'No, I thank you, my dear little Brownie,' said Lady Merrifield,
+elongating herself like a girl measuring heights.
+
+'Ada has a larger assortment, as well as a taller person,' continued
+Miss Jane, 'but then they are rather 'henspeckle,' and they have all
+made their first appearance at Rotherwood.'
+
+'No, no, thank you, my dear, Jasper would not like the notion--even if
+there was not more of me than of Ada.  I have no doubt it is much
+better for us.'
+
+'Should you have liked it, Lily?'
+
+'For once in a way.  For Rotherwood's sake, dear old fellow.  Yes, I
+should.'
+
+'Ah, well! You are a bit of a grande dame yourself.  Ada enjoys it,
+too, or I don't think I ever should go there.'
+
+'Surely Victoria behaves well to you?'
+
+'Far be it from me to say she is not exemplary in her perfect civility
+to all her husband's relations.  Ada thinks her charming; but oh.
+Lily, you've never found out what it is to be a little person in a
+great person's house, and to feel one's self scrupulously made one of
+the family, because her husband is so much attached to all of them.
+There's nothing spontaneous about it!  I dare say you would get on
+better, though You are not a country-town old maid; you would have an
+air of the world and of distinction even if you went in your old grey
+poplin.'
+
+'Well, I thought better of my lady.'
+
+'You ought not! She makes great efforts, I am sure, and is a pattern of
+graciousness and cordiality--only that's just what riles one, when one
+knows one is just as well born, and all the rest of it.  And then I'm
+provided with the clever men, and the philanthropical folk to talk to.
+I know it's a great compliment, and they are very nice, but I'd ten
+times rather take my chance among them.  However, now I've made the
+grapes sour for you, what do you think about Dolores?  Will you send
+her to us?'
+
+'Not immediately, at any rate, dear Jane.  It is very kind in you to
+wish to take her off our hands, but I do want to try her a little
+longer.  I thought she seemed to be softening last night.'
+
+'She was as hard as ever when I went in to wish her good-bye.'
+
+'I thought she had too much headache for conversation when I went in
+last; I think this is a regular upset from unhappiness and reserve.'
+
+'Alias temper and deceitfulness.'
+
+'Something of both.  You know the body often suffers when things are
+not thrown out in a wholesome explosion at once, but go simmering on;
+and I mean to let this poor child alone till she is well.'
+
+'Ah! here comes the pony-carriage.  Well, Lily, send her to me if you
+repent.'
+
+The sisters came out to find the Butterfly's Ball in full action.  Fly
+had become a Butterfly by the help of a battered pair of fairy wings,
+stretched on wire, which were part of the theatrical stock.  'The shy
+little Dormouse' was creeping about on all fours under a fur jacket,
+with a dilapidated boa for a long tail, but her 'blind brother the
+Mole' had escaped from her, and had been transformed into the Frog, by
+means of a spotted handkerchief over his back, and tremendous leap-frog
+jumps.  Primrose, in another pair of fairy wings, was personating the
+Dragon-fly and all his relations, 'green, orange, and blue.'  Valetta,
+in perfect content with the present, with a queer pair of ears, and a
+tail made of an old brush, sat up and nibbled as Squirrel.  The
+Grasshopper was performing antics which made him not easily
+distinguishable from the Frog, and the Spider was actually descending
+by a rope from the balusters, while his mother, standing somewhat
+aghast, breathed a hope that 'poor Harlequin's' fall was not part of
+the programme.  But she did not interfere, having trust in the
+gymnastics that were studied at school by Jasper, who had been beguiled
+into the game by Fly's fascinations.
+
+'A far more realistic performance than the Rotherwood Butterfly's Ball
+is likely to be,' said Aunt Jane, aside, as the various guests came up
+for her departing kiss.  'And much more entertaining, if they could
+only think so.  Where's Gillian?'
+
+Gillian appeared on the stairs in her own person at the moment.  She
+said Mrs.  Halfpenny had called her, and told her that 'Miss Dollars'
+was crying, and that she did not think the child ought to be left alone
+long to fret herself, but Saturday morning needments called away nurse
+herself, so she had ordered in Miss Gillian as her substitute.  Gillian
+was reading to her, and had only come away to make her farewells to
+Aunt Jane.
+
+'That is right, my dear,' said her mother; 'I will come and sit with
+her after luncheon.'
+
+For the whole youthful family were to turn out to superintend the
+replantation of the much-enduring fir, which, it was hoped, might
+survive for many another Christmas.
+
+However, Lady Merrifield could not keep her promise, for a whole party
+of visitors arrived just after the children's dinner was over.
+
+'And it's old Mrs. Norgood,' sighed Gillian, looking over the
+balusters, 'and she always slays for ages!'
+
+'One of you young ladies must bide with Miss Dollars,' said Nurse
+Halfpenny, decidedly, 'or we shall have her fretting herself ill
+again.'
+
+'Oh, nursie, can't you?' entreated Gillian.
+
+'Me, Miss Gillian! How can I, when Miss Primrose is going out with the
+whole clamjamfrie, and all the laddies, into the wet plantations?  Na--
+one of ye maun keep the lassie company.  Ye've had your turn, Miss
+Gillian, so it should be Miss Mysie.  It winna hurt ye, bairn, ye that
+hae been rampaging ower the house all the morning.'
+
+Mysie knew it was her turn, but she also knew that nurse always
+favoured Gillian and snubbed her.  She had a devouring longing to be
+with her dear Fly, and a certain sense that she was the preferred one.
+Must another pleasure be sacrificed to that very naughty Dolores, whose
+misdemeanours had deprived them of the visit to Rotherwood.  She looked
+so dismal that Gillian said good-naturedly,  'Really, Mysie, I don't
+think mamma would mind Dolores's being left a little while; I must go
+down to see about the Tree, because mamma gave me a message to old
+Webb,  but I'll come back directly.  Or perhaps Dolly is going to
+sleep, and does not want any one.  Go and see.'
+
+Mysie on this crept quietly into the room, full of hope of escape, but
+Dolores was anything but asleep.  'Oh, are you come, Mysie?  Now you'll
+go on with the story.  I tried, but my eyes ache at the back of them,
+and I can't.'
+
+Mysie's fate was sealed.  She sat down by the fire and took up the
+book, 'A Story for the Schoolroom,' one of the new ones given from the
+Tree.  It was the middle of the story, and she did not care about it at
+first, especially when she heard Fly's voice, and all the others
+laughing and chattering on the stairs.
+
+'Didn't they care for her absence?' and her voice grew thick, and her
+eyes dim; but Dolores must not think her cross and unwilling, and she
+made a great effort, became interested in the girls there described,
+and wondered whether staying with Fly would have turned her head, after
+the example of the heroine of the book.
+
+Dolores did not seem to want to talk.  In fact, she was clinging to the
+reading, because she could not bear to speak or think of the state of
+affairs, and the story seemed, as it were, to drown her misery.  She
+knew that her aunt and cousins were far less severe with her than she
+expected, but that could only be because she was ill.  Had not Uncle
+Reginald turned against her, and Constance?  It would all come upon her
+as soon as she came out of her room, and she was rather sorry to
+believe that she should be up and.  about to-morrow morning.
+
+Mysie read on till the short, winter day showed the first symptoms of
+closing in.  Then Lady Merrifield came up.  'You here, little nurse?'
+she said.  'Run out now and meet the others.  I'll stay with Dolly.'
+Mysie knew by the kiss that her mother was  pleased with her; but
+Dolores dreaded the talk with her aunt, and made herself sleepy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE.
+
+
+
+The two gentlemen who had gone to Darminster brought home tidings that
+the police who had been put on the track of Flinders had telegraphed
+that it was thought that a person answering to his description had
+embarked at Liverpool in an American-bound steamer.
+
+This idea, though very uncertain, was a relief, at least to all except
+the boys, who thought it a great shame that such a rascal should
+escape, and wanted to know whether the Americans could not be made to
+give him up.  They did not at all understand their elders being glad,
+for the sake of Maurice Mohun and his dead wife, that the man should
+not be publicly convicted, and above all that Dolores should not have
+to bear testimony against him in court, and describe her own very
+doubtful proceedings.  Besides, there would have been other things to
+try him for, since he had cheated the publishing house which employed
+him of all he had been able to get into his hands.  There was reason to
+believe that he had heavy debts, especially gambling ones, and that he
+had become desperate since he no longer had his step-sister to fall
+back upon.
+
+Looking into his room, among other papers, a half-burnt manuscript was
+found upon his grate among some exhausted cinders, as if he had been
+trying to use the unfortunate 'Waif of the Moorland' to eke out his
+last fire.  Moreover, the proprietor of the Politician told Colonel
+Mohun of having remonstrated with him on the exceeding weakness and
+poorness of the 'Constantia' poetry, 'which,' as that indignant
+personage added, 'was evidently done merely as a lure to the
+unfortunate young lady.'
+
+The fifteen pounds had been accepted in an honourable and ladylike
+manner by the elder sister--but without any overpowering expression of
+gratitude.  No doubt it was a bitter pill to her, forced down by
+necessity, and without guessing that it cost the donors anything.
+
+Dolores's mind was set at rest as to Flinders's evasion before night,
+and on the Sunday morning even Nurse Halfpenny could find out nothing
+the matter with her, so that she was obliged to make her appearance as
+usual.  Uncle Reginald did not kiss her, he only gave a cold nod, and
+said 'Good morning.'  Otherwise all went on as usual, and it was
+pleasant to find that Fly was as entirely used as they were to learning
+Collect and hymn, and copying out texts illustrating Catechism, and
+that she was expected to have them ready to repeat them to her mother
+some time in the afternoon.  There was something, too, that Mysie could
+not have described, but which she liked, in the manner in which, on
+this morning, Dolores accepted small acts of good nature, such as
+finding a book for her, getting a new pen and helping her to the
+whereabouts of a Scriptural reference.  It seemed for the first time as
+if she liked to receive a kindness, and her 'thank you' really had a
+sound of thanks, instead of being much more like 'I wish you would
+not.'  Mysie felt really encouraged to be kind, and when, on setting
+forth to church, everybody was crowding round trying to walk with Fly,
+and Dolores was going along lonely and deserted, Mysie resigned her
+chance of one side of the favourite Phyllis, and dropped back to give
+her company to the solitary one.  To her surprise and gratification,
+Dolores took hold of her hand, and listened quite willingly to her
+chatter about the schemes for the fortnight that Fly was to be left
+with them.  Presently Constance was seen going markedly by the other
+gate of the churchyard, quite out of her usual way, and not even
+looking towards them.
+
+It was the last day of the old year, and, in the midst of the Christmas
+joy, there were allusions to it in the services and hymns.  Something
+in the tune of 'Days and moments quickly flying,' touched some chord in
+Dolores's spirit, and set her off crying.  She would have done anything
+to stop it, but there was no helping it, great round splashes came
+down, and the more she was afraid of being noticed, the worse the
+choking grew.  At last, the very worst person--she thought--to take
+notice.  Uncle Reginald, did so, and, under cover of a general rising,
+said sternly, 'Stop that, or go out.'
+
+Stop that!  Much did the colonel know about a girl's tears, or how she
+would have given anything to check them.  But here was Aunt Lily edging
+down to her, taking her by the hand, leading her out, she did not know
+how, stopping all who would have come after them with help--then
+pausing a little in the open, frosty air.
+
+'Oh, Aunt Lily! I am very sorry!'
+
+'Never mind that, my dear.  Do you feel poorly?'
+
+'Oh no; I'm quite well--only--'
+
+'Only overcome--I don't wonder--my dear--can you walk quietly home with
+me?'
+
+'Yes, please.'
+
+Nothing was said till they had passed the 'idle corner,' where men and
+half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and
+stared at the lady making her exit, till they were through the short
+street with shop windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking,
+and had come into the quiet lane leading to the paddock.  Then Lady
+Merrifield laid her hand on the girl's shoulder very gently, and said,
+'It was too much for you, my dear, you are not quite strong yet.'
+
+'Oh yes; I'm well.  Only I am so very--very miserable,' and the gust of
+sobs and tears rushed on her again.
+
+'Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!'
+
+'You can't! I've done it! And--and they'll all be against me always--
+Uncle Regie and all!'
+
+'Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I'm sure he will forgive you when
+he sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a
+fresh start.  I am sure you were deceived.'
+
+'Yes,' said Dolores.  'I never could have thought he--Uncle Alfred--was
+such a dreadful man'
+
+'I expect that since he lost your mother's influence and help he may
+have sunk lower than when you had seen him before.  Did your father
+give you any directions about him?'
+
+'No.  Father hated to hear of him' and never spoke about him if he
+could help it; and we thought it was all Mohun high notions because he
+wasn't quite a gentleman.'
+
+'I see.  Indeed, my dear, though you have done very wrong, I have
+already felt that there was great excuse for you in trying to keep up
+intercourse with a person who belonged to your mother.  I wish you had
+told me, but I suppose you were afraid.'
+
+'Yes' said Dolores.  'And I thought you were sure to be cross and
+harsh,' she muttered.  And then suddenly looking up, 'Oh, Aunt Lily!
+everybody is angry but you--you and Mysie!  Please go on being kind! I
+believe you've been good to me always.'
+
+'My dear, I've tried,' said Lady Merrifield, with fears in her brown
+eyes and a choke in her voice caressing the hand that had been put into
+hers.  'I have wished very much to make you happy with us; but the ways
+of a large family must be a trial to a new-comer.'
+
+Dolores raised her face for a kiss, and said, 'I see it now.  But I did
+not like everything always, and I thought aunts were sure to be
+unkind.'
+
+'That was very hard.  And why?'
+
+She was heard to mutter something about aunts in books always being
+cross.
+
+'Ah! my dear! I suppose there are some unkind aunts, but I am sure
+there are a great many more who wish with all their hearts to make
+happy homes for their nieces.  I hope now we may do so.  I have more
+hope than ever I had, and so I shall write to your father.'
+
+'And please--please,' cried Dolores, 'don't let Uncle Regie write him a
+very dreadful letter! I know he will.'
+
+'I think you can prevent that best yourself, by telling Uncle Regie how
+sorry you are.  He was specially grieved because he thinks you told him
+two direct falsehoods.'
+
+'Oh! I didn't think they were that,' said Dolores, 'for it was true
+that father did not leave anything with me for Uncle Alfred.  And I did
+not know whether it was me whom he saw at Darminster.  I did tell you
+one once, Aunt Lily, when you asked if I gave Constance a note.  At
+least, she gave it to me, and not I to her.  Indeed, I don't tell
+falsehoods, Aunt Lily--I mean I never did at home, but Constance said
+everybody said those sort of things at school, and that one was driven
+to it when one was---'
+
+'Was what, my dear?'
+
+'Tyrannized over,' Dolores got out.
+
+'Ah! Dolly, I am afraid Constance was no real friend.  It was a great
+mistake to think her like Miss Hacket.'
+
+'And now she has sent back all my notes, and won't look at me or speak
+to me,' and Dolores's tears began afresh.
+
+'It is very ungenerous of her, but very likely she will be very sorry
+to have done so when her first anger is over, and she understands that
+you were quite as much deceived as she was.'
+
+'But I shall never care for her again.  It is not like Mysie, who never
+stopped being kind all the time--nor Gillian either.  I shall cut her
+next time!'
+
+'You should remember that she has something to forgive.  I don't want
+you to be intimate with her but I think it would be better if, instead
+of quarrelling openly, you wrote a note to say that you were deceived
+and that you are very sorry for what you brought on her.'
+
+'I should not have gone on with it but for her and Her stupid poems!'
+
+'Can you bear to tell me how it all was, my dear?  I do not half
+understand it.'
+
+And on the way home, and in Lady Merrifield's own room Dolores found it
+a relief to pour forth an explanation of the whole affair, beginning
+with that meeting with Mr.  Flinders at Exeter, of which no one had
+heard, and going on to her indignation at the inspection of her
+letters; and how Constance had undertaken to conduct her
+correspondence, 'and that made it seem as if she must write to some
+one,'--so she wrote to Uncle Alfred.  And then Constance, becoming
+excited at the prospect of a literary connection, all the rest
+followed.  It was a great relief to have told it all, and Lady
+Merrifield was glad to see that the sense of deceit was what weighed
+most heavily upon her niece, and seemed to have depressed her all
+along.  Indeed, the aunt came to the conclusion that though Dolores
+alone might still have been sullen, morose and disagreeable, perhaps
+very reserved, she never would have kept up the systematic deceit but
+for Constance.  The errors, regarded as sin, weighed on Lady
+Merrifield's mind, but she judged it wiser not to press that thought on
+an unprepared spirit, trusting that just as Dolores had wakened to the
+sense of the human love that surrounded her, hitherto disbelieved and
+disregarded, so she might yet awake to the feeling of the Divine love
+and her offence against it.
+
+The afternoon was tolerably free, for the gentlemen, including the
+elder boys, walked to evensong at a neighbouring church noted for its
+musical services, and Lady Merrifield, as she said, 'lashed herself up'
+to go with Gillian, carry back the remnant of the unhappy 'Waif,' and
+'have it out' with Constance, who would, she feared, never otherwise
+understand the measure of her own delinquency, and from whom, perhaps,
+evidence might be extracted which would palliate the poor child's
+offence in the eyes of Colonel Mohun.  Both the Hacket sisters looked
+terribly frightened when she appeared, and the elder one made an excuse
+for getting her outside the door to beseech her to be careful, dear
+Constance was so nervous and so dreadfully upset by all she had
+undergone.  Lady Merrifield was not the least nervous of the two, and
+she felt additionally displeased with Constance for not having said one
+word of commiseration when her sister had inquired for Dolores.  On
+returning to the drawing-room, Lady Merrifield found the young lady
+standing by the window, playing with the blind, and looking as if she
+wanted to make her escape.
+
+'I do not know whether you will be sorry or glad to see this,' said
+Lady Merrifield, producing a half-burnt roll of paper.  'It was found
+in Mr.  Flinders's grate, and my brother thought you would be glad that
+it should not get into strange hands.'
+
+'Oh, it was cruel! it was base! What a wicked man he is!' cried
+Constance, with hot tears, as she beheld the mutilated condition of her
+poor 'Waif.'
+
+'Yes, it was a most unfortunate thing that you.  should have run into
+intercourse with such an utterly untrustworthy person.'
+
+'I was grossly deceived, Lady Merrifield!' said Constance, clasping her
+hands somewhat theatrically.
+
+'I shall never believe in any one again!'
+
+'Not without better grounds, I hope,' was the answer.  'Your poor
+little friend is terribly broken down by all this.'
+
+'Don't call her my friend.  Lady Merrifield.  She has used me
+shamefully! What business had she to tell me he was her uncle when he
+was no such thing?'
+
+'She had been always used to call him so.'
+
+'Don't tell me, Lady Merrifield,' said Constance, who, after her first
+fright, was working herself into a passion.  'You don't know what a
+little viper you have been warming, nor what things she has been
+continually saying of you.  She told me--'
+
+Lady Merrifield held up her hand with authority.
+
+'Stay, Constance.  Do you think it is generous in you to tell me this?'
+
+'I am sure you ought to know.'
+
+'Then why did you encourage her?'
+
+'I pitied her--I believed her--I never thought she would have led me
+into this!'
+
+'How did she lead you?'
+
+'Always talking about her precious, persecuted uncle.  I believe she
+was in league with him all the time!'
+
+'That is nonsense,' said Lady Merrifield, 'as you must see if you
+reflect a little.  Dolores was too young to have been told this man's
+real character; she only knew that her mother, who had spent her
+childhood with him, treated him as a brother, and did all she could for
+him.  Dolores did very wrongly and foolishly in keeping up a connection
+with him unknown to me; but I cannot help feeling there was great
+excuse for her, and she was quite as much deceived as you were.'
+
+'Oh, of course, you stand by your own niece, Lady Merrifield.  If you
+knew what horrid things she said about your pride and unkindness, as
+she called it, you would not think she deserved it.'
+
+'Nay, that is exactly what does most excuse her in my eyes.  Her
+fancying such things of me was what did prevent her from confiding in
+me.'
+
+Constance had believed herself romantic, but the Christian chivalry of
+Lady Merrifield's nature was something quite beyond her.  She muttered
+something about Dolores not deserving, which made her visitor really
+angry, and say, 'We had better not talk of deserts.  Dolores is a mere
+child--a mother-less child, who had been a good deal left to herself
+for many months.  I let her come to you because she seemed shy and
+unhappy with us, and I did not like to deny her the one pleasure she
+seemed to care for.  I knew what an excellent person and thorough lady
+your sister is, and I thought I could perfectly trust her with you.  I
+little thought you would have encouraged her in concealment, and--I
+must say--deceit, and thus made me fail in the trust her father reposed
+in me.'
+
+'I would never have done it,' Constance sobbed, 'but for what she said
+about you.  Lady Merrifield!'
+
+'Well, and even if I am such a hard, severe person, does that make it
+honourable or right to help the child I trusted to you to carry on this
+underhand correspondence?'
+
+Constance hung her head.  Her sister had said the same to her, but she
+still felt herself the most injured party, and thought it very hard
+that she should be so severely blamed for what the girls at her school
+treated so lightly.  She said, 'I am very sorry.  Lady Merrifield,' but
+it was not exactly the tone of repentance, and it ended with: 'If it
+had not been for her, I should never have done it.'
+
+'I suppose not, for there would have been no temptation.  I was in
+hopes that you would have shown some kindlier and more generous feeling
+towards the younger girl, who could not have gone so far wrong without
+your assistance, and who feels your treatment of her very bitterly.
+But to find you incapable of understanding what you have done, makes me
+all the more glad that the friendship--if friendship it can be called--
+is broken off between you.  Good-bye.  I think when you are older and
+wiser, you will be very sorry to recollect the doings of the last few
+months.'
+
+Lady Merrifield walked away, and found on her return that Dolores had
+succeeded in writing to her father, and was so utterly tired out by the
+feelings it had cost her that she was only fit to lie on the sofa and
+sleep.
+
+Gillian was, of course, not seen till she came home from evening
+service.
+
+'Oh, mamma,' she said, 'what did you do to Constance?'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'Well, I heard you shut the front door.  And presently after there came
+such a noise through the wall that all the girls pricked up their ears,
+and Miss Hacket jumped up in a fright.  If it had been Val, one would
+have called it a naughty child roaring.'
+
+'What! did I send her into hysterics?'
+
+'I suppose, as she is grown up, it must have the fine name, but it
+wasn't a bit like poor Dolly's choking.  I am sure she did it to make
+her sister come! Well, of course, Miss Hacket went away, and I did the
+best I could, but what could one do with all these screeches and
+bellowings breaking out?'
+
+'For shame.  Gill!'
+
+'I can't help it, mamma.  If you had only seen their faces when the
+uproar came in a fresh gust! How they whispered, and some looked awe-
+struck.  I thought I had better get rid of them, and come home myself;
+but Miss Hacket met me, and implored me to stay, and I was weak-minded
+enough to do so.  I wish I hadn't, for it was only to be provoked past
+bearing.  That horrid girl has poisoned even Miss Hacket's mind, and
+she thinks you have been hard on her darling.  You did not know how
+nervous and timid dear Connie is!'
+
+'Well, Gill, I confess she made me very angry, and I told her what I
+thought of her.'
+
+'And that she didn't choose to hear!'
+
+'Did you see her again?'
+
+'No, I am thankful to say, I did not.  But Miss Hacket would go on all
+tea-time, explaining and explaining for me to tell you how dear Connie
+is so affectionate and so easily led, and how Dolores came over her
+with persuasions, and deceived her.  I declare I never liked Dolly so
+well before.  At any rate, she doesn't make professions, and not a bit
+more fuss than she can help.  And there was Miss Hacket getting brandy
+cherries and strong coffee, and I don't know what all, because dear
+Connie was so overcome, and dear Lady Merrifield was quite under a
+mistake, and so deceived by Dolores.  I told Miss Hacket you were never
+under a mistake nor deceived.'
+
+'You didn't, Gillian!'
+
+'Yes, I did, and the stupid woman only wanted to kiss me (but I
+wouldn't let her) and said I was very right to stand up for my dear
+mamma.  As if that had anything to do with it! What are you laughing
+at, mamma?  Why, Uncle Regie is laughing, and Cousin Rotherwood! What
+is it?'
+
+'At the two partisans who never stand up for their own families,' said
+Uncle Regie.
+
+'But it's true!' cried Gillian.
+
+'What! that I am never mistaken nor deceived?' said Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Except when you took Miss Constance for a sensible woman, eh?' said
+her brother.
+
+'That I never did! But I did take her for a moderately honourable one.'
+
+'Well, that was a mistake,' owned Gillian.  'And Miss Hacket is as bad!
+There's no gratitude---'
+
+'Hush!' broke in her mother; and Gillian stopped abashed, while Lady
+Merrifield continued, 'I won't have Miss Hacket abused.  She is only
+blinded by sisterly affection.'
+
+'I don't think I can go there again,' said Gillian, 'after what she
+said about you.'
+
+'Nonsense!' said her mother.  'Don't be as bad as Constance in trying
+to make me angry by telling me all poor Dolly's grumblings.'
+
+'Follow your mother's example, Gillian,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and, if
+possible, never hear, certainly never attend to, what any one says of
+you behind your back.'
+
+'Is said to have said of you, you should add, Rotherwood,' put in the
+colonel.  'It is a decree worse than eavesdropping.'
+
+'Oh, Regie!' exclaimed his sister.
+
+'Well, not perhaps for your own honour and conscience, but the keyhole
+is a more trustworthy medium than the reporter.'
+
+'That's a strong way of stating it, but, at any rate, the keyhole has
+no temper nor imagination, or prejudice of its own,' said Lady
+Merrifield.
+
+'No, and as far as it goes, it enables you to judge of the frame in
+which the words, even if correctly reported, were spoken,' added
+Colonel Mohun.
+
+'The moral of which is,' said Lord Rotherwood, drolly, 'that Gillian is
+not to take notice of anyone's observations upon her unless she has
+heard them through the keyhole.'
+
+'And so one would never hear them at all.'
+
+'Q. E. D.,' said Lord Rotherwood.  'And now, Lily, do you.  ever sing
+the two evening-hymns.  Ken and Keble, now, as the family used to do on
+Sundays at the Old Court, long ere the days of  'Hymns Ancient and
+Modern'?
+
+'Don't we?' said Lady Merrifield.  'Only all our best voices will be
+singing it at Rawul Pindee!'
+
+And, as she struck a note on the piano, all the younger people still
+up, Mysie, Phyllis, Wilfred and Valetta, gathered round from the outer
+room to join in their evening Sunday delight.  Fly put her hand into
+her father's and whispered, 'You told me about it, daddy.'  He began to
+sing, but his voice thickened as he missed the tones once associated
+with it.  And Lady Merrifield, too, nearly broke down as with all her
+heart she sang, hopefully,
+
+
+                   'Now Lord, the gracious work begin.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+THE STONE MELTING.
+
+
+
+It was with a strange feeling that Dolores woke on the New Year's
+morning, that something was very sad and strange, and yet that there
+was a sense of relief.   For one thing, that terrible confession to her
+father was written, and was no longer a weight hanging over her.  And
+though his answer was still to come, that was months away.  There was
+Uncle Regie greatly displeased with her; there was Constance treating
+her as a traitor; there was the mischief done, and yet something hard
+and heavy was gone?  Something sweet and precious had come in on her!
+Surely it was, that now she knew and felt that she could trust in Aunt
+Lilias--yes, and in Mysie.  She got up, quite looking forward to
+meeting those gentle, brown eyes of her aunt's, that she seemed never
+before to have looked into, and to feeling the sweet, motherly kiss
+which had so mud,  more meaning in it now, as almost to make up for
+Uncle Reginald's estrangement.
+
+She even anticipated gladly those ten minutes alone with her aunt,
+which she used to dislike so much, hoping that the holiday-time would
+not hinder them.  Really wishing to please her aunt, she had learnt her
+portion perfectly, and Lady Merrifield showed that she appreciated the
+effort, though still it was more a lesson than a reality.
+
+'My dear!' she said, 'I am afraid this is another blow for you--it came
+this morning.'
+
+It was the account from Professor Muhlwasser's German publisher,
+amounting to a few shillings more than six pounds.  And an announcement
+that the books were on the way.
+
+'Oh,' cried Dolores, 'I thought he was dead! He told me so! Uncle
+Alfred, I mean! And it was only to get the money! How could he be so
+wicked?'
+
+'I am afraid that was all he cared for.'
+
+'And what shall I do.  Aunt Lily?  Will you pay it, please, and take
+all my allowance till it is made up?'
+
+'I think it will be more comfortable for you if I do something of that
+sort, though I don't think you should go entirely without money.  You
+have a pound a quarter.  I was going to give you yours at once.'
+
+'Oh, take it--pray--'
+
+'Suppose I give you five shillings, instead of twenty.  I do not think
+it well to leave you with nothing for a year and a half, and this is
+nearly what Mysie has.'
+
+'A shilling a month--very well.  I wish I could pay it all at once!'
+
+'No doubt you do, my dear, but this will keep you in mind for a long
+time what a dangerous thing you did in giving away money you had no
+right to dispose of.'
+
+'Yes,' said Dolores.  'Mother earned money for him.  I know she never
+took father's without asking him; but I couldn't earn, and couldn't
+ask.'
+
+Lady Merrifield kissed her, for very joy, to hear no sullenness in her
+tone; and then all went to church together on the New Year's day that
+was to be the beginning of better things.  Lord Rotherwood had just
+time to go before meeting the train which was to take him to High
+Court, leaving his Fly too much used to his absences to be distressed
+about them, and, in fact, somewhat crazy about a notion which Gillian
+had started that morning, of getting up a little play to surprise him
+when he came back for Twelfth Day, as he promised to do.
+
+Mamma declared that if it was in French, and the words were learnt
+every morning before half-past eleven, it should supersede all other
+lessons; but such was the hatred of the whole boy faction to French,
+that they declared they had rather do rational sensible lessons twice
+over than learn such rot, and this carried the day.  The drama proposed
+was that one in an old number of  'Aunt Judy,' where the village mayor
+is persuaded by the drummer to fine the girls for wearing lace caps.
+The French original existed in the house, and Fly started the idea that
+the male performers should speak English and the female French; but
+this was laughed down.
+
+In the midst Uncle Reginald came to the door and called, 'Lilias, can
+you speak to me a minute?'
+
+Lady Merrifield went out into the hall to him.
+
+'Here's a policeman come over, Lily.  They have got the fellow!'
+'Flinders?'
+
+
+'Yes; arrested him on board a steamer at Bristol.'
+
+'Oh, I wish they had let it alone!'
+
+'So do I.  They are bringing him back.  The Darminster City bench sits
+to-day, and they want that unlucky child over there to make her
+deposition for his committal.'
+
+'Can't they commit him without her?'
+
+'Not for the forgery.  The bank people are bent on prosecuting for
+that, and we can't stop them.  I suppose she can be depended on?'
+
+'Reginald, don't! I told you the deceit was an unnatural growth from
+Constance's pseudo sentiment.'
+
+'Well, get her ready to come with me,' said the colonel, with a gesture
+of doubt; 'we must catch the 12.50.  The superintendent brought a fly.'
+
+'You will frighten her out of her senses.  I can't let her go alone
+with you in this mood.'
+
+'As you please, if you choose to knock yourself up.  I'll tell the
+superintendent, and walk on to the station.  You've not a moment to
+lose, so don't let her stand dawdling and crying.'
+
+It was a hard task for Lady Merrifield.  She called Dolores, whom Mysie
+was inviting to be one of the village maidens, and bade her put on her
+things quickly.  She ordered cold meat and wine into the dining-room,
+called Gillian into her room, and explained while dressing, and bade
+her keep the others away.  Then, meeting Dolores on the stairs took her
+into the dining-room and made her swallow some cold beef, and drink
+some sherry, before telling her that the magistrates at Darminster
+wanted to ask her some questions.  Dolores looked pale and frightened,
+and exclaimed,
+
+'Oh, but he has got away!'
+
+'My dear, I am grieved to say that he has not.'
+
+Dolores understood, and submitted more quietly and resignedly than her
+aunt had feared.  She was a barrister's daughter, and once or twice her
+father had taken her and her mother part of the way on circuit with
+him, and she had been in court, so that she had known from the first
+that if her uncle were arrested there was no choice but that she must
+speak out.  So she only trembled very much and said--
+
+'Aunt Lily, are you going with me?'
+
+'Indeed I am, my poor child.  Uncle Regie is gone on.'
+
+No more was spoken then, but Dolores put her cold hand into her aunt's
+muff.
+
+Gillian kept all  the flock prisoned in the schoolroom.  Wilfred, Val,
+and Fergus rushed to the window, and were greatly disappointed not to
+see a policeman on the box, 'taking Dolores to be tried'--as Fergus
+declared, and Wilfred insisted, just because Gillian and Mysie
+contradicted it with all their might.  He continued to repeat it with
+variations and exaggerations, until Jasper heard him, and declared that
+he should have a thorough good licking if he said so again,
+administering a cuff by way of earnest.  Wilfred howled, and was
+ordered not to be such an ape, and Fly looked on in wonder at the
+domestic discipline.
+
+The superintendent had, in fact, walked on with Uncle Reginald, and
+Dolores saw nothing of him, but was put into an empty first-class
+carriage, into which her aunt followed her, but her uncle, observing,
+'You know how to manage her, Lily,' betook himself to a smoking-
+carriage, and left them to themselves.
+
+Dolores was never a very talking girl, and the habit of silence had
+grown upon her.  She leant against her aunt and she put her arm round
+her, and did not attempt to say anything till she asked,
+
+'Will he be there?'
+
+'I don't know, I am afraid he will.  It is very sad for you, my poor
+Dolly; but we must recollect that, after all, it may be much better for
+him to be stopped now than to go on and get worse and worse in some
+strange country.'
+
+Dolores did not ask what she was to do, she knew enough already about
+trials to understand that she was only to answer questions, and she
+presently said,
+
+'This can't be his trial.  There are no assizes now.'
+
+'No, this is only for the committal.  It will very soon be over, if you
+will only answer quietly and steadily.  If you do so, I think Uncle
+Regie will be pleased, and tell your father!  I am sure I shall!'
+
+Dolores pressed up closer and laid her cheek against the soft sealskin.
+In the midst of her trouble there was a strange wonder in her.  Could
+this be really the aunt whom she had thought so cruel, unjust, and
+tyrannical, and from whom she had so carefully hidden her feelings?
+Nobody got into the carriage, and just before reaching Darminster, Lady
+Merrifield made a great effort over her own shyness and said,
+
+'Now, Dolly, we will pray a little prayer that you may be a faithful
+witness, and that God may turn it, all to good for your poor uncle.'
+
+Dolores was very much surprised, and did not know whether she liked it
+or not, but she saw her aunt's closed eyes and uplifted hands, and she
+tried to follow the example.
+
+The train stopped, and her uncle came to the door, looking inquiringly
+at her.
+
+'She will be good and brave,' said her aunt; and quickly passing across
+the platform, Dolores found herself beside her aunt, with her uncle
+opposite in another fly.
+
+Things had been arranged for them considerately, and after they came to
+the Guildhall, where the city magistrates were sitting, Colonel Mohun
+went at once into court; the others were taken to a little room, and
+waited there a few minutes before Colonel Mohun came to call for his
+niece.  It was a long room, with a rail at one end, and Dolores knew,
+with a strange thrill which made her shudder, that Mr. Flinders was
+there, but she could not bear to look at him, and only squeezed hard at
+the hand of her aunt, who asked, in a somewhat shaky voice, if she
+might come with her niece.
+
+'Certainly, certainly.  Lady Merrifield,' said one of the magistrates,
+and chairs were set both for her and Colonel Mohun.
+
+'You are Miss Mohun, I think--may I ask your Christian name in full?'
+And then she had to spell it, and likewise tell her exact age, after
+which she was put on oath--as she knew enough of trials to expect.
+
+'Are you residing with Lady Merrifield?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'But your father is living?'
+
+'Yes, but he is in the Fiji Islands.'
+
+'Will you favour us with his exact name?'
+
+'Maurice Devereux Mohun.'
+
+'When did he leave England?'
+
+'The fifth of last September.'
+
+'Did he leave any money with you?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'In what form?'
+
+'A cheque on W----'s Bank.
+
+'To bearer or order?'
+
+'To order.'
+
+'What was the date?'
+
+'I think it was the 31st of August, but I am not sure.'
+
+'For how much?'
+
+'For seven pounds.'
+
+'When did you part with it?'
+
+'On the Friday before Christmas Day.'
+
+'Did you do anything to it first?'
+
+'I wrote my name on the back.'
+
+'What did you do with it.'
+
+'I sent it to--' her voice became a little hoarse, but she brought out
+the words--'to Mr. Flinders.'
+
+'Is this the same?'
+
+'Yes--only some one has put 'ty' to the 'seven' in writing, and 0 to
+the figure 7.'
+
+'Can you swear to the rest as your father's writing and your own?'
+
+The evidence of the banker's clerk as to the cashing of the cheque had
+been already taken, and the magistrate said, 'Thank you.  Miss Mohun, I
+think the case is complete, and we need not trouble you any more.'
+
+But the prisoner's voice made Dolores start and shudder again, as he
+said,
+
+'I beg your pardon, sir, but you have not asked the young lady'--there
+was a sort of sneer in his voice--'how she sent this draft.'
+
+'Did not you send it direct by the post?' demanded the magistrate.
+
+'No; I gave it to--' Again she paused, and the words 'Gave it to--?'
+were authoritatively repeated, so that she had no choice.
+
+'I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send.'
+
+'You will observe, sir,' said Flinders, in a somewhat insolent tone,
+'that the evidence which the witness has been so ready to adduce is
+incomplete.  There is another link between her hands and mine.'
+
+'You may reserve that point for your defence on your trial,' rejoined
+the magistrate.  'There is quite sufficient evidence for your
+committal.'
+
+There was already a movement to let Dolores be taken away by her uncle
+and aunt, so as to spare her from any reproach or impertinence that
+Flinders might launch at her.  She was like some one moving in a dream,
+glad that her aunt should hold her hand as if she were a little child,
+saying, as they came out into the street, 'Very clearly and steadily
+done, Dolly! Wasn't it, Uncle Regie?'
+
+'Yes,' he said, absently.  'We must look out, or we shan't catch the
+4.50 train.'
+
+He almost threw them into a cab, and made the driver go his quickest,
+so that, after all, they had full ten minutes to spare.  It made
+Dolores sick at heart to go near the waiting and refreshment-rooms
+where she and Constance had spent all that time with Flinders; but she
+could not bear to say so before her uncle, and he was bent on getting
+some food for Lady Merrifield.
+
+'Not soup, Regie; there might not be time to swallow it.  A glass of
+milk for us each, please; we can drink that at once, and anything solid
+that we can take with us.  I am sure your mouth must be dry, my dear.'
+
+Very dry it was, and Dolores gladly swallowed the milk, and found, when
+seated in the train, that she was really hungry enough to eat her full
+share of the sandwiches and buns which the colonel had brought in with
+him; and then she sat resting against her aunt, closed her eyes, and
+half dozed in the rattle of the train, not moving in the pause at the
+stations, but quite conscious that Colonel Mohun said, 'Not a spark of
+feeling for anybody, not even for that man! As hard as a stone!'
+
+'For shame, Regie!' said her aunt.  'How angry you would have been if
+she had made a scene.'
+
+'I should have liked her better.'
+
+'No, you wouldn't, when you come to understand.  There's stuff in her,
+and depth too.'
+
+'Aye, she's deep enough.'
+
+'Poor child!' said Lady Merrifield, tenderly.  And then the train went
+on, and the noise drowned the voices, so that Dolores only partly
+heard, 'You will see how she will rise,' and the answer, 'You may be
+right; I hope so.  But I can't get over deliberate deceit.'
+
+He settled himself in his corner, and Lady Merrifield durst not move
+nor raise her voice lest she should break what seemed such deep
+slumber, but which really was half torpor, half a dull dismay, holding
+fast eyes, lips, and limbs, and which really became sleep, so that
+Dolores did not hear the next bit of conversation during the ensuing
+halt.
+
+'I say, Lily, I did not like the fellow's last question.  He means to
+give trouble about it.'
+
+'I was sorry the other name was brought in, but it must have come
+sooner or later.'
+
+'That's true; but if she can't swear to the figures on the draft, ten
+to one that the fellow will get off.'
+
+'You don't doubt--'
+
+'No, no; but there's the chance for the defence, and he was sharp
+enough to see it.'
+
+'There is nothing to be said or done about it, of course.'
+
+'Of course not.  There's nothing for it but to let it alone.'
+
+They went on again, and when the train reached Silverton, Dolly was
+dreaming that her father had come, and that he said Uncle Alfred should
+be hanged unless she found the money for Professor Muhlwasser.  She
+even looked about for him, and said, 'Where's father?' when she was
+wakened to get out.
+
+Gillian came up to her mother's room to hear what had happened, and to
+give an account of the day, which had gone off prosperously by Harry's
+help.  He had kept excellent order at dinner, and 'there's something
+about Fly which makes even Wilfred be mannerly before her.'  And then
+they had gone out and had made Fly free of the Thorn Fortress.
+
+'My dear, that must have been terribly damp and cold at this time of
+year.'
+
+'I thought of that, mamma, and so we didn't sit down, and made it a
+guerrilla war; only Fergus couldn't understand the difference between
+guerrillas and gorillas, and would thump upon himself and roar when
+they were in ambush.'
+
+'Rather awkward for the ambush!'
+
+'Yes, Wilfred said he was a traitor, and tied him to a tree, and then
+Fly found him crying, and would have let him out; but she couldn't get
+the knots undone; and what do you think?  She made Wilfred cut the
+string himself with his own knife! I never knew such a girl for making
+every one do as she pleases.  Then, when it got dark, we came in, and
+had a sort of a kind of a rehearsal, only that nobody knew any of the
+parts, or what each was to be.'
+
+'A sort of a kind, indeed, it must have been!'
+
+'But we think the play will be lovely! You can't think how nice Fly
+was.  You know we settled for her to be Annette, the dear, funny,
+naughty girl, but as soon as she saw that Val wanted the part, she said
+she didn't care, and gave it up directly, and I don't think we ought to
+let her, and Hal thinks so too; and all the boys are very angry, and
+say Val will make a horrid mess of it.  Then Mysie wanted to give up
+the good girl to Fly, and only be one of the chorus, but Fly says she
+had rather be one of the chorus ones herself than that.  So we settled
+that you should fix the parts, and we would abide by your choice.'
+
+'I hope there was no quarrelling.'
+
+'N--no; only a little falling upon Val by the boys, and Fly put a stop
+to that.  Oh, mamma, if it were only possible to turn Dolly into Fly! I
+can't help saying it, we seemed to get on so much better just because
+we hadn't poor Dolly to make a deadweight, and tempt the boys to be
+tiresome: while Fly made everything go off well.  I can't describe it,
+she didn't in the least mean to keep order or interfere, but somehow
+squabbles seem to die away before her, and nobody wants to be
+troublesome.'
+
+'Dear little thing! It is a very sweet disposition.  But, Gill, I do
+believe that we shall see poor Dolly take a turn now!'
+
+'Well! having quarrelled with that Constance is in her favour!'
+
+'Try and think kindly of her trouble.  Gill, and then it will be easier
+to be kind to her.'
+
+Gillian sighed.  Falsehood and determined opposition to her mother were
+the greatest possible crimes in her eyes; and at her age it was not
+easy to separate the sin from the sinner.
+
+New Year's night was always held to be one of especial merriment, but
+Lady Merrifield was so much tired out by her expedition that she hardly
+felt equal to presiding over any sports, and proposed that instead the
+young folk should dance.  Gillian and Hal took turns to play for them,
+and Uncle Reginald and Fly were in equal request as partners.  It was
+Mysie who came to draw Dolores out of her corner, and begged her to be
+her partner--'If you wouldn't very much rather not,' she said, in a
+pleading, wistful, voice.
+
+Dolores would 'very much rather not;' but she saw that Mysie would be
+left out altogether if she did not consent, as Hal was playing and
+Uncle Regie was dancing with Primrose.  She thought of resolutions to
+turn over a new leaf, and not to refuse everything so she said, 'Yes,
+this once,' and it was wonderful how much freshened she felt by the gay
+motion, and perhaps by Mysie's merry, good-natured eyes and caressing
+hand.  After that she had another turn with Gillian and one with Hal,
+and even one with Fergus because, as he politely informed her, no one
+else would have him for a quadrille.  But, just as this was in
+progress, and she could not help laughing at his ridiculous mistakes
+and contempt of rules she met Uncle Reginald's eye fixed on her in
+wonder  'He thinks I don't care,' thought she to herself.  All her
+pleasure was gone, and she moved so dejectedly that her aunt, watching
+from the sofa, called her and told her she was over-tired, and sent her
+to bed.
+
+Dolores was tired, but not in the way which made it harder instead of
+easier to sleep, or, rather, she slept just enough to relax her full
+consciousness and hold over herself, and bring on her a misery of
+terror and loneliness, and feeling of being forsaken by the whole
+world.  And when she woke fully enough to understand the reality, it
+was no better; she felt, then, the position she had put herself into,
+and almost saw in the dark, Flinders's malicious vindictive glance
+Constance's anger, Uncle Regie's cold, severe look and, worse than all,
+her father reading her letter'
+
+She fell again into an agony of sobbing, not without a little hope that
+Aunt Lily would be again brought to her side.  At last the door was
+softly pushed open in the dark, but it was not Aunt Lily, it was
+Mysie's little bare feet that patted up to the bed, her arms that
+embraced, her cheek that was squeezed against the tearful one--'Oh,
+Dolly, Dolly! please don't cry so sadly!'
+
+'Oh! it is so dreadful, Mysie!'
+
+'Are you ill--like the other night?'
+
+'No--but--Mysie--I can't bear it!'
+
+'I don't want to call mamma,' said Mysie, thoughtfully, 'for she is so
+much tired, and Uncle Regie and Gill said she would be quite knocked
+up, and got her to come up to bed when we went.  Dolly, would it be
+better if I got into your bed and cuddled you up?'
+
+'Oh yes! oh yes! please do, there's a dear good Mysie.'
+
+There was not much room, but that mattered the less, and the hugging of
+the warm arms seemed to heal the terrible sense of being unloved and
+forsaken, the presence to drive away the visions of angry faces that
+had haunted her; but there was the longing for fellow-feeling on her,
+and she said, 'That's nice! Oh, Mysie! you can't think what it is like!
+Uncle Regie said I didn't care, and he could never forgive deliberate
+deceit--and I was so fond of Uncle Regie!'
+
+'Oh! but he will, if you never tell a story again,' said Mysie--and, as
+she felt a gesture implying despair--'Yes, they do; I told a story
+once.'
+
+'You, Mysie! I thought you never did?'
+
+'Yes, once, when we were crossing to Ireland and nurse wouldn't let
+Wilfred tie our handkerchiefs together and fish over the side, and he
+was very angry, and threw her parasol into the sea when she wasn't
+looking; and I knew she would be so cross, that when she asked me if I
+knew what was become of it, I said 'No,' and thought I didn't, really.
+But then it came over me, again and again, that I had told a story,
+and, oh! I was so miserable whenever I thought of it--at church, and
+saying my prayers, you know; and mamma was poorly, and couldn't come to
+us at night for ever so long, but at last I could bear it no longer, I
+heard her say, 'Mysie is always truthful,' and then I did get it out,
+and told her.  And, oh! she and papa were so kind, and they did quite
+and entirely forgive me!'
+
+'Yes, you told of your own accord; and they were your own--not Uncle
+Regie.  Ah! Mysie, everybody hates me.  I saw them all looking at me.'
+
+'No, no! Don't say such things.  Dolly.  None of us do anything so
+shocking.'
+
+'Yes, Jasper does, and Wilfred and Val!'
+
+'No! no! no! they don't hate; only they are tiresome sometimes; but if
+you wouldn't be cross they would be nice directly--at least Japs and
+Val.  And 'tisn't hating with Willie, only he thinks teasing is fun.'
+
+'And you and Gillian.  You can only just bear me.
+
+'No! no! no!' with a great hug, 'that's not true.'
+
+'You like Fly ever so much better!'
+
+'She is so dear, and so funny,' said Mysie, the truthful, 'but somehow,
+Dolly dear, do you know, I think if you and I got to love one another
+like real friends, it would be nicer still than even Fly--because you
+are here like one of us, you know; and besides, it would be more,
+because you are harder to get at.  Will you be my own friend.  Dolly?'
+
+'Oh, Mysie, I must!' and there was a fresh kissing and hugging.
+
+'And there's mamma,' added Mysie.
+
+'Yes, I know Aunt Lily does now; but, oh! if you had seen Uncle
+Alfred's face, and heard Uncle Regie,' and Dolly began to sob again as
+they returned on her.  'I see them whenever I shut my eyes!'
+
+'Darling,' whispered Mysie, 'when I feel bad at night, I always kneel
+up in bed and say my prayers again!'
+
+'Do you ever feel bad?'
+
+'Oh yes, when I'm frightened, or if I've been naughty, and haven't told
+mamma.  Shall we do it, Dolly?'
+
+'I don't know what that has to do with it, but we'll try.'
+
+'Mamma told me something to say out of.'
+
+The two little girls rose up, with clasped hands in their bed, and
+Mysie whispered very low, but so that her companion heard, and said
+with her a few childish words of confession, pleading and entreating
+for strength, and then the Lord's Prayer, and the sweet old verse:--
+
+
+         'I lay my body down to sleep,
+          I give my soul to Christ to keep,
+          Wake I at morn, as wake I never,
+          I give my soul to Christ for ever.'
+
+
+'Ah! but I am afraid of that.  I don't like it,' said Dolores, as they
+lay down again.
+
+'It won't make one never wake,' returned Mysie;  'and I do like to give
+my soul to Christ.  It seems so to rest one, and make one not afraid.'
+
+'I don't know,' said Dolores; 'and why did you say the Lord's Prayer?
+That hasn't anything to do with it!'
+
+'Oh, Dolly, when He is our Father near, though our own dear fathers are
+far away, and there's deliver us from evil--all that hurts us, you
+know-and forgive us.  It's all there.'
+
+'I never thought that,' said Dolores.  'I think you have some different
+prayers from mine.  Old nurse taught me long ago.  I wish you would
+always say yours with me.  You make them nicer.'
+
+Mysie answered with a hug, and a murmured 'If I can,' and offered to
+say the 121st Psalm, her other step to comfort, and, as she said it,
+she resolved in her mind whether she could grant Dolores's request; for
+she was not sure whether she should be allowed  to leave her room
+before saying her own, and she I knew enough of Dolores by this time to
+be aware that to say she would ask mamma's leave would put an end to
+all.  'I know,' was her final decision; 'I'll say my own first, and
+then come to Dolly's room.'
+
+But by that time Dolores was asleep, even if Mysie had not been too
+sleepy to speak.
+
+She meant to have rushed to the room she shared with Valetta before it
+was time to get up, but Lots found the black head and the brown
+together on Dolores's pillow, wrapped in slumber; and though Mysie flew
+home as soon as she was well awake, Mrs. Halfpenny descended on her
+while she was yet in her bath, and inflicted a sharp scolding for the
+malpractice of getting into her cousin's bed.
+
+'But Dolly was so miserable, nurse, and mamma was too tired to call.'
+
+'Then you should have called me, Miss Mysie, and I'd have sorted her
+well! You kenned well 'tis a thing not to be done and at your age; ye
+should have minded your duties better.'
+
+And nurse even intercepted Mysie on her way to Dolores's room, and
+declared she would have no messing and gossiping in one another's
+rooms.  Miss Mysie was getting spoilt among strangers.
+
+Mysie went down with a strong sense of having been disobedient, as well
+as of grief for Dolores's disappointment.  Happily mamma was late that
+morning, and nobody was in her room but Primrose.  Poor Mysie had soon,
+with tears in her eyes, confessed her transgression.  Her mother's
+tears, to her great surprise, were on her cheek together with a kiss.
+'Dear child, I am not displeased.  Indeed, I am not;  I will tell
+nurse.  It must not be a habit, but this was an exception, and I am
+only thankful you could comfort her.
+
+'And, mamma, may I go now to her.  She said I could help her to say her
+prayers, and I think she only has little baby ones that her nurse
+taught her and she doesn't see into the Lord's Prayer.'
+
+'My dear, my dear, if you can help her to pray you will do the thing
+most sure to be a blessing to her of all.'
+
+And when Mysie was gone, Lady Merrifield knelt down afresh in
+thankfulness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+MYSIE AND DOLORES.
+
+
+
+Things were going on more quietly at Silverton.  That is to say, there
+were no outward agitations, for the house was anything but quiet.  Lady
+Merrifield had no great love for children's parties, where, as she
+said, they sat up too late, to eat and drink what was not good for
+them, and to get presents that they did not care about; and though at
+Dublin it had been necessary on her husband's account to give and take
+such civilities, she had kept out of the exchange at Silverton.  But,
+on the other hand, there were festivals, and she promoted a full amount
+of special treats at home among themselves, or with only an outsider or
+two, and she endured any amount of noise, provided it was not
+quarrelsome, over-boisterous, or at unfit times.
+
+There was the school tea, and magic-lantern, when Mr. Pollock acted as
+exhibitor, and Harry as spokesman, and worked them up gradually from
+grave and beautiful scenes like the cedars of Lebanon, the Parthenon
+and Colosseum, with full explanations, through dissolving views of
+cottage and bridge by day and night, summer and winter, of life-boat
+rescue, and the siege of Sevastopol, with shells flying, on to Jack and
+the Beanstalk and the New Tale of a Tub, the sea-serpent, and the nose-
+grinding! Lady Phyllis's ecstacy was surpassing, more especially as she
+found her beloved little maid-of-all-work, and was introduced to all
+that small person's younger brothers and sisters.
+
+Here they met Miss Hacket, who was in charge of a class.  She comported
+herself just as usual, and Gillian's dignity and displeasure gave way
+before her homely cordiality.  Constance had not come, as indeed
+nothing but childhood, sympathy with responsibility for childhood,
+could make the darkness, stuffiness, and noise of the exhibition
+tolerable.  Even Lady Merrifield trusted her flock to its two elders,
+and enjoyed a tete-a-tete evening with her brother, who profited by it
+to advise her strongly to send Dolores to their sister Jane before harm
+was done to her own children.
+
+'I would not see that little Mysie of yours spoilt for all the world,'
+said he.
+
+'Nor I; but I don't think it likely to happen.'
+
+'Do you know that they are always after each other, chattering in their
+bedrooms at night.  I hear them through the floor.'
+
+'Only one night--Mysie told me all about it--I believe Mysie will do
+more for that poor child than any of us.'
+
+Uncle Regie shrugged his shoulders a little.
+
+'Yes, I know I was wrong before, when I wouldn't take Jane's warning;
+but that was not about one of my own, and, besides, poor Dolores is
+very much altered.'
+
+'I'll  tell you what, Lily, when any one, I don't care who, man, or
+woman, or child, once is given up to that sort of humbug and deceit,
+carrying it on a that girl, Dolores, had done, I would never trust
+again an inch beyond what I could see.  It eats into the very marrow of
+the bones--everything is acting afterwards.'
+
+'That would be saying no repentance was possible--that Jacob never
+could become Israel.'
+
+'I only say I have never seen it.'
+
+'Then I hope you will, nay, that you do.  I believe your displeasure is
+the climax of all Dolly's troubles.'
+
+But Colonel Reginald Mohun could not forgive the having been so
+entirely deceived where he had so fully trusted; and there was no
+shaking his opinion that Dolores was essentially deceitful and devoid
+of feeling and that the few demonstrations of emotion that were brought
+before him were only put on to excite the compassion of her weakly,
+good-natured aunt, so he only answered, 'You always were a soft one
+Lily.'
+
+To which she only answered, 'We shall see knowing that in his present
+state of mind he would only set down the hopeful tokens that she
+perceived either to hypocrisy on the girl's side, or weakness on hers.
+
+Dolores had indeed gone with the others rather because she could not
+bear remaining to see her uncle's altered looks than because she
+expected much pleasure.  And she had the satisfaction of sitting by
+Mysie, and holding her hand, which had become a very great comfort in
+her forlorn state--so great that she forebore to hurt her cousin's
+feelings by discoursing of the dissolving views she had seen at a
+London party.  Also she exacted a promise that this station should
+always be hers.
+
+Mysie, on her side, was in some of the difficulties of a popular
+character, for Fly felt herself deserted, and attacked her on the first
+opportunity.
+
+'What does make you always go after Dolly instead of me, Mysie?  Do you
+like her so much better?'
+
+'Oh no! but you have them all, and she has nobody.'
+
+'Well, but she has been so horridly naughty, hasn't she?'
+
+'I don't think she meant it.'
+
+'One never does.  At least, I'm sure I don't--and mamma always says it
+is nonsense to say that.'
+
+'I'm not sure whether it is always,' said Mysie, thoughtfully, 'for
+sometimes one does worse than one knows.  Once I made a mouse-trap of a
+beautiful large sheet of bluey paper, and it turned out to be an order
+come down to papa.  Mamma and Alethea gummed it up as well as ever they
+could again, but all the officers had to know what had happened to it.'
+
+'And were you punished?'
+
+'I was not allowed to go into papa's room without one of the elder ones
+till after my next birthday, but that wasn't so bad as papa's being so
+vexed, and everybody knowing it; and Major Denny would talk about mice
+and mouse-traps every time he saw me till I quite hated my name.'
+
+'And I'm sure you didn't mean to cut up an important paper.'
+
+'No; but I did do a little wrong, for we had no leave to take anything
+not quite in the waste basket, and this had been blown off the table,
+and was on the floor outside.  They didn't punish me so much I think
+because of that.  Papa said it was partly his own fault for not
+securing it when he was called off.  You see little wrongs that one
+knows turn out great wrongs that one would never think of, and that is
+so very dreadful, and makes me so very sorry for Dolores.'
+
+'I didn't think you would like a cross, naughty girl like that more
+than your own Fly.'
+
+'No, no! Fly, don't say that.  I don't really like her half so well,
+you know, only if you would help me to be kind to her.'
+
+'I am sure my mother wouldn't wish me to have anything to do with her.
+I don't think she would have let me come here if she had known what
+sort of girl she is.'
+
+'But your papa knew when he left you--'
+
+'Oh, papa! yes; but he can never see anything amiss in a Mohun; I heard
+her say so.  And he wants me to be friends with you; dear, darling
+friends like him and your Uncle Claude, Mysie, so you must be, and not
+be always after that Dolores.'
+
+'I want to be friends with both.  One can have two friends.'
+
+'No! no! no! not two best friends.  And you are my best friend, Mysie,
+ever so much better than Alberta Fitzhugh, if only you'll come always
+to me this little time when I'm here, and sit by me instead of that
+Dolly.'
+
+'I do love you very much, Fly.'
+
+'And you'll sit by me at the penny reading to-night?'
+
+'I promised Dolly.  But she may sit on the other side.'
+
+'No,' said Phyllis, with jealous perverseness.  'I don't care if that
+Dolly is to be on the other side, you'll talk to nobody but her! Now,
+Mysie, I had been writing to ask daddy to let you come home with me,
+you yourself, to the Butterfly's Ball, but if you won't sit by me, you
+may stay with your dear Dolores.'
+
+'Oh, Fly! When you know I promised, and there is the other side.'
+
+But Fly had been courted enough by all the cousinhood to have become
+exacting and displeased at having any rival to the honour of her hand--
+so she pouted and said, 'I don't care about it, if you have her.  I
+shall sit between Val and Jasper.'
+
+One must be thirteen, with a dash of the sentiment of a budding
+friendship, to enter into all that 'sitting by' involves; and in
+Mysie's case, here was her compassionate promise standing not only
+between her and the avowed preference of one so charming as Fly, but
+possibly depriving her of the chances of the wonders of the Butterfly's
+Ball.  No wonder that disconsolate tears came into her eyes as she
+uttered another pleading, 'Oh, Fly, how can you?'
+
+'You must choose,' said the offended young lady; 'you can't have us
+both.'
+
+To which argument she stuck, being offended as well as scandalized at
+being set aside for such a culprit as Dolores, whose misdemeanours and
+discourtesy were equally shocking to her imagination.
+
+Mysie could confide her troubles to no one, for she was aware that
+caring about sitting together was treated by the elders as egregious
+folly; but a promise was a promise with her, and she held staunchly to
+her purpose, though between Dolores and Miss Vincent she lost all those
+delightful asides which enhanced the charms of the amusing parts of the
+penny reading and beguiled the duller ones--of which there were many,
+since it was more concert than penny reading, people being rather shy
+of committing themselves to reading--Hal, Mr.  Pollock and the
+schoolmaster being the only volunteers in that line.
+
+Gillian had, sorely against the grain, to play a duet with Constance
+Hacket.  The two young ladies had met one another with freezing
+civility in the classroom, and to those who understood matters, the
+stiffness of their necks and shoulders, as they sat at the piano, spoke
+unutterable things.  But there had never been any real liking between
+Constance and the younger Merrifields, and the mother did not trouble
+herself much about this, knowing that the vexation of the elder sister,
+about whom she did care, would pass off with friendly intercourse.
+
+Fly's displeasure did not last long, for Mysie bad more attractions for
+her than any one else, and she was a good-humoured creature.  There was
+a joyous Twelfth-Night, with home-made cake and home-characters,
+prepared by mamma and Gillian, and followed up by games, in which
+Dolores had a share, promoted by her aunt, who was very anxious to keep
+her from feeling set apart from every one; but this was difficult to
+manage, as she was so generally disliked, that even Gillian was only
+good-natured to her in accordance with her mother's desire that she
+should not be treated as 'out of the pale of humanity.'  Mysie alone
+sought her out and brought her forward with any real earnestness, and
+good little Mysie had a somewhat difficult part to play between
+kindness to her and Fly's occasional little jealous tiffs and decided
+disapproval.  Mysie never thought, however, about the situation or its
+difficulties, she simply followed the moment's call of kindness to
+Dolores, and, when it was possible, followed her own inclinations, and
+enjoyed Fly's lively society.
+
+And Dolores was certainly softening and improving.  A word to Mrs.
+Halfpenny had secured the two girls being permitted to say their
+prayers together in Dolores's room unmolested; and what was a reality
+to a contemporary became less and less to Dolores a mere lesson imposed
+by the authority of an elder.  That link between religious instruction
+and daily life, which is all important, yet so difficult to find, was
+being gradually put into Dolores's hands by her little cousin-friend.
+Lady Merrifield hoped and guessed it might be thus, from the questions
+that Mysie asked her at times, and from the quickened attention Dolores
+showed to her religious lessons, and her less dull and indifferent air
+at church.
+
+It could not be said that she was different with the others.  She was
+depressed, and wanted spirits for enjoyment, nor would active romping
+diversions ever be pleasant to her.  She had not the nature for them,
+and was not young enough to learn to like them.  It could not but seem
+foolish to her to race about as a Croat or a savage, and she only
+beheld with wonder Gillian's genuine delight in games not merely
+entered into for the sake of the little ones.  But there was a strong
+devotion growing up in her to her aunt and to Mysie, and what they
+asked of her she did--even when on a wet day her aunt condemned her to
+learn battledore and shuttle-cock of Gillian, who was equally to be
+pitied for the awkwardness of her pupil and the banter of her brothers,
+while Dolly picked up her shuttlecock and tossed it off with grim
+determination, as if doing penance for this dismal half hour.  She
+managed better in the games where ready sharpness of intellect or
+memory was wanted, and she liked these, and would have liked them still
+better if Uncle Reginald had not always looked astonished if she
+laughed.
+
+She did her part, too, in the little play, being one of the chorus of
+the maidens who 'make a vow to make a row.'  Lady Merrifield had,
+according to the general request, saved disputes by casting the parts,
+Gillian being the sage old woman who brought the damsels to reason.
+Fly, the prime mover of the tumult, and Mysie, her confidante, while
+Val and Dolly made up the mob.  A little manipulation of skirts,
+tennis-aprons, ribbons, and caps made very nice peasant costumes.  Hal
+was the self-important Bailli, and Jasper the drummer, the part of
+gens-d'armes being all that Wilfred and Fergus could be trusted with.
+
+Lord Rotherwood came back, and his little daughter's ecstacy was goodly
+to see, as she danced about her daddy, almost bursting with the secret
+of what he was to see after dinner, and showing herself so brilliantly
+well and happy that he congratulated himself upon her mother's
+satisfaction.
+
+While the elders were at dinner, Gillian, with Miss Vincent's help,
+finished off the arrangements.  There were no outsiders, except the
+Vicar and Mr.  Pollock who had been asked to dinner, for Lady
+Merrifield said she never liked to make her children an exhibition.
+
+'You are an old-fashioned Lily,' said her cousin, 'and happily not
+concerned with popularity.  It is a fine thing to be able to consult
+one's children's absolute best.'
+
+The performance went off beautifully--at least so thought both actors
+and spectators.  The dignity of the Bailli and the meddling of the
+drummer were alike delightful; Fly was charmingly arch and mutinous;
+Mysie very straightforward; and the least successful personation was
+that of Gillian, who had a fit of stage-fright, forgot sentences, and
+whirred her spinning-wheel nervously, all the worse for being scolded
+by her brothers behind the scenes, and assured that she was making a
+mull of the whole affair.  And she had been so spirited at the
+rehearsals, but she was at a self-conscious age, and could not forget
+the four spectators.  Very little was required of Dolores, but that
+little she did simply and well, and Lord Rotherwood, after watching her
+all the evening, observed to Lady Merrifield, 'I should say your
+difficulties were diminishing, are they not?  The thunder-cloud seems
+to be a little lightened.'
+
+'I am so glad you think so, Rotherwood.  I feel sure that all this
+distress has drawn her nearer to us, only Regie won't believe it.'
+
+'Regie is prejudiced.'
+
+'Is he?  I thought him specially fond of Maurice's child, and that this
+was revulsion of feeling; but what I am afraid of is, that he will
+never believe in her or like her again, whatever she may be, and she is
+really fond of him.'
+
+'Yes, Reginald is not over disposed to believe in any woman's truth--
+outside his own family and sisters.  Poor fellow! I can't say he was
+well used.'
+
+'What?  I suppose be has bad his romance like other people--his little
+episode, as my husband calls it.'
+
+'Yes; and I am afraid we were accountable for it.  You remember we were
+at Harthope Castle for the first two years after I was married, while
+Rotherwood was brought up to the requirements of the Victorian age.
+
+The ---th was quartered at Harfield, within easy distance, and a
+splendid looking fellow like Regie was invaluable to Victoria, whenever
+she wanted anything to go off well.  Well, in those days I had a ward,
+my mother's great niece, Maude Conway.  A pretty winsome creature it
+was, and an heiress in a moderate sort of way, and poor old Redge,
+after all his little affairs, and he had had his share of them, was
+evidently in for it at last.  Victoria thought, as well as myself, it
+was the best thing for them both.  He was the sound-hearted, good
+fellow to keep her matters straight, and she had enough for comfort
+without overweighting the balance.  So they were engaged but unluckily
+they had to wait till she was of age, about eight months off, and they
+were both ridiculously shy, and would not have the thing known, though
+Victoria said it was unwise.  I don't think even Jane suspected it.'
+
+'No; I don't think she could have done so.'
+
+'Well, there was the season, and Victoria was not in condition for
+going out, and Maude was all for staying quietly with her; but old Lady
+Conway came about--a regular schemer--a woman I never could abide.  She
+had married off her own daughters, and wanted her niece to practise on,
+that was the fact.  Victoria says she always knew that she, Maude I
+mean, was very impressionable and impulsive, and so she wanted to have
+her out of harm's way; but one could not prevent her aunt from getting
+hold of her and taking her out.  Then people told us of her goings on
+with that scamp Clanmacklosky and that sister of his.  Victoria talked
+to her by the yard, but she denied it, and we thought it all gossip.
+Regie came up for a couple of nights, and she was as sweet on him as
+ever, and sent him away thinking it all right; but the end of it was,
+she fought off going down to Rotherwood with us, but went to Brighton
+with Lady Conway, and the next thing we heard was that she wrote to
+throw Reginald over, and she married Clanmacklosky a month after she
+was twenty-one! I don't think I ever saw Victoria so cut up, for we had
+really liked the girl and thought well of her.  To this hour I believe
+it was all that woman's doing, and that poor Maude has supped sorrow.
+She has lost all her good looks.'
+
+'And Regie has never got over it?'
+
+'Not so as to believe in a woman again.'
+
+'He used to be rather a joke for susceptibility, and was still a
+regular boy when we went out to Gibraltar.  I thought him much graver.'
+
+'Exactly; since that affair his soul has gone into his regiment.  It's
+a wife to him, and luckily he got his promotion in time, so as not to
+be shelved.'
+
+'I suppose it was really an escape.'
+
+'I don't know--she would have done very well in his hands.  She is the
+sort of woman to be as you make her, and even now is a world too good
+for Clan.  Victoria can never be quite cordial with her, but I can't
+see the poor harassed thing without thinking what a sweet creature she
+once was, and wishing I'd had the sense to look after her better.  But
+what I came here for, Lily, was to say you must let me have that Mysie
+of yours, since you won't come yourself to this concern of ours.  I'm
+afraid you won't think much good has come of us, but we couldn't do the
+Country Mouse much harm in a fortnight; and you know it is the wish of
+my heart that my lonely Fly should grow up on such terms with your
+flock as Florence and I did with you all.'
+
+He pleaded quite piteously, and he was backed up by a letter from his
+wife, very grateful for her little Phyllis's happy visit, reiterating
+the invitation to Lady Merrifield, and begging that if she still could
+not come herself, she would at least send Jasper and Mysie for the
+Butterfly's Ball.  Mysie's fancy dress would be ready for her, only
+waiting for the final touches after it was tried on.  Lady Florence
+Devereux, too, was near at hand, and wrote to promise to look after
+Mysie.
+
+There was no refusing after this.  Lady Florence was not far from being
+like a sister to her cousins.  She had tended her mother's old age, and
+had subsequently settled down into the lady of all work of Rotherwood
+parish.  Lady Merrifield had much confidence in her, and indeed all she
+saw of Fly gave her a great respect for Lady Rotherwood's management of
+her child.  Harry was going to his uncle's at Beechcroft for some
+shooting, and would bring Mysie home when Jasper went back to school.
+
+So Gillian was called to her mother's room to be told first of the
+arrangement, which certainly in some aspects was rather hard on her.
+
+'I could not help it, my dear,' said Lady Merrifield, 'without
+absolutely asking for an invitation for you.'
+
+'No, mamma; and it is Mysie who is Fly's friend, being the same age and
+all.  It is quite right, and I understand it.'
+
+'My dear, I am so glad I can do such a thing as this.  If there were
+small jealousies among you, I could not venture on letting you be set
+aside, for I know the disappointment was quite as great to you as to
+Mysie, when we gave it up.'
+
+'But she was better about it than I,' said Gillian; 'mamma, your
+trusting me in that way is better than a dozen balls.  Besides, I know
+I should hate being there without you; I'm a great old thing, as Jasper
+says, neither fish nor fowl, you know, not come out, and not a little
+girl in the schoolroom, and it would be very horrid going to a grand
+place like that on one's own account.'
+
+'That's right, Gillyflower. 'Tis very wholesome to discover the
+sourness of the grapes.  And as I think grandmamma is really coming, I
+shall want you at home, and to look after Dolores.'
+
+'That's the worst of it, mamma; I shall never get on with her as Mysie
+does.'
+
+'We must do our best, for I do think really the poor child is
+improving.'
+
+'Lessons will begin again! That's one comfort,' said Gillian, rather
+quaintly, thinking of the length of time that Dolores would thus be off
+her hands.
+
+'And now call Mysie.  I must speak to her.'
+
+As for Mysie, she was in a state of rapture.  She knew her bliss before
+her mother had communicated it, for Lord Rotherwood could not refrain
+from telling his daughter that consent was gained, and Fly darted
+headlong to embrace Mysie, dance round her and rejoice.  The boys
+declared that Mysie at once sprang into the air like a chamois, and
+that her head touched the ceiling, but this is believed to be a figment
+of Jasper's.
+
+It was only on the summons to her mother's room that Mysie discovered
+that Gillian was not going with her.  It dimmed the lustre of her
+delight for a little while, 'Oh, Gill, aren't you very sorry?  You
+ought to have had the first turn.'
+
+'Never mind, Mysie, you are Fly's friend,'--and the two sisters' looks
+at one another at that moment were a real pleasure to their mother.
+
+Mysie was of a less shy nature than Gillian, as well as at a less
+awkward age, so that the visiting without her mother was less
+formidable, and she rushed about wild with delight; but Dolores was
+very disconsolate.
+
+'Every one I care for goes away and changes,' she said in her
+melancholy little sentiment.
+
+'But it's only for a fortnight, Dolly, I don't think I could change so
+fast.'
+
+'Oh yes, you will, among all those swells.  You like Fly ever so much
+better than me.'
+
+Mysie looked grieved and puzzled, but then exclaimed, in the tone of a
+discovery, 'There are different sorts of likings, Dolly, don't you see.
+I do love Fly very much, but you know you are like a sort of almost
+twin sister to me.  I like her best, but I care about you most!'
+
+With which curious distinction Dolores had to put up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS.
+
+
+
+Colonel Mohun took Wilfred to his school, which began its term earlier
+than did Jasper's, and Silver-ton was wonderfully quiet.  The elder
+Mrs.  Merrifield was not to come for nearly a week, so that it would
+have been possible for her daughter-in-law to go to the Rotherwood
+festivities without interfering with her visit, but this no one except
+Gillian and Mysie knew, and they kept the secret well.
+
+The departure of the boys was a great relief to Dolores.  Her aunt did
+not rank her with Valetta and Fergus, but let her consort with herself
+and Gillian, and this suited her much better.  Even Gillian allowed
+that she was ever so much nicer when there was no one to tease her.  It
+was true that Jasper certainly, and perhaps Wilfred, would not have
+molested her if she had not offended the latter, and offered herself as
+fair game; but Gillian, who had to forestall and prevent their pranks,
+could not feel their absence quite the privation her sisterly spirit
+usually did!
+
+Valetta and Fergus were harmless without them, but they were forlorn,
+being so much used to having their sports led by their two seniors that
+they hardly knew what to do without them, and the entreaty, or rather
+the whine, 'I want something to do,' was heard unusually often.  This
+led to Gillian's being often called off to attend to them during the
+course of wet days that ensued, and thus Dolores was a good deal alone
+with her aunt, who was superintending her knitting a pair of silk
+stockings to send out to her father, it was hoped in time for his next
+birthday.
+
+At the first proposal, Dolores looked dull and unwilling, and at last
+she squeezed out, 'I don't think father will ever want me to do
+anything for him again.'
+
+'My poor child, do you think a father does not forgive and love all the
+more one who is in deep sorrow for a fault?'
+
+'I don't think my letter seemed sorry! I was not half so sorry then as
+I am now,' then at a kind word from her aunt her eyes overflowed, and
+she said, 'No, I wasn't; I didn't know how good you were, or how bad I
+was!'
+
+And when Aunt Lily kissed her, she put her arms round the kind neck
+that bent down to her, and laid her head against it, as if it was quite
+a rest to feel that love.  Her aunt encouraged her to write again to
+her father, and to try to express something of her grief and entreaty
+for forgiveness, and she was somewhat cheered after this; as though
+something of the load on her mind was removed.  One day she brought
+down all the books in her room and said, 'Please, Aunt Lily, look at
+them, and let them be with the rest in the schoolroom, I want to be
+just like the others.'
+
+Lady Merrifield was much pleased with this surrender.  Some of the
+books were really well worth having and reading, indeed, the best of
+them she knew, but there were eight or ten which she suspected of being
+what Mysie called silly stories, and she kept them back to look over.
+She had been trying in this quiet interval to get Dolly to read
+something besides mere childish stories for recreation; and when she
+saw how well worn the story books were, and how untouched the 'easy
+history,' and the books about animals and foreign countries were, she
+saw why so clever a girl as Dolores seemed so stupid about everything
+she had not learnt as a lesson, and entirely ignorant of English
+poetry.
+
+Lady Merrifield read to her and Gillian in the evenings, and how they
+did enjoy it, and bemoaned the coming of grandmamma, to spoil their
+snugness and occupy 'mamma.' For Dolores began so to call Lady
+Merrifield.  She had never so termed her own mother, and it seemed to
+her that with the words 'Aunt Lily' she put away all sorts of foolish,
+sinister feelings.
+
+'Mrs.  Merrifield was a wonderful old lady, brisk of mind and body,
+though of great age.  She had been spending Christmas with her eldest
+son, the Admiral, at Stokesley, and was going to take on her way the
+daughter-in-law, of whom she knew but little in comparison; and with
+her she brought the granddaughter, Elizabeth Merrifield, who--since her
+own daughter had died--generally lived with her in London, to take care
+of her.
+
+'It will be all company and horrid, and nobody will be allowed to make
+a noise!' sighed Valetta to Fergus, as the waggonette, well shut up,
+drove to the door.
+
+'There's cousin Bessie,' said Fergus.
+
+'Oh, cousin Bessie is thirty-four, and that is as bad as being as old
+as grandmamma!'
+
+And they hung back while the old lady was helped out, and brought
+across the hall into the warm drawing-room before her fur cloak was
+taken off.  There was a quiet little person with her, and Val
+whispered, 'She'll be just like Aunt Jane.'
+
+But the eyes that Bessie turned on her cousins were not at an like Aunt
+Jane's little searching black ones.  They were of a dark shade of grey,
+and had a wonderful softness and sweetness in them.  Gillian knew her a
+little already, but very little, for there had always been the elder
+sisters at their former short meetings.  Mamma lamented that there
+should be so few grandchildren at home to be shown, though, as she
+said,  'the full number might have been too noisy.'
+
+Grandmamma shook her head.  'I like the house full,' she said, 'I'm all
+right, but it is a pity to see the nest emptied, like Stokesley, now.
+Nobody left at home but Susan and little Sally! Make the most of them
+while you have them about you!'
+
+The old lady was quite delighted to find Primrose so nearly a baby, and
+to have one grandchild still quite as small or smaller than some of her
+great grandchildren whom she had never seen.  Her great pleasure,
+however, soon proved to be in talking about her son Jasper, and hearing
+all his wife could tell her about his life in India; and as Lady
+Merrifield liked no other subject so well, they were very happy
+together, and quite absorbed.
+
+Meanwhile Bessie made herself a companion to Gillian and Dolores, and
+though so much older, seemed to consider herself as a girl like them.
+Then, living for the most part in town, she could talk about London
+matters to Dolly, and this was a great treat, while yet she had country
+tastes enough to suit Gillian, and was not in the least afraid of a
+long walk to the fir plantations to pick up Weymouth pine cones, and
+the still more precious pinaster ones.
+
+For the first time Gillian began to see Dolores as Uncle Reginald used
+to know her, free from that heavy mist of sullen dislike to everything
+and everybody.  It seemed to bring them together, but, in spite of
+Bessie's charms, they both continually missed Mysie, out of doors and
+in, in schoolroom and drawing-room, and, above all, in Dolly's bedroom.
+She seemed to be, as Gillian told Bessie, 'a sort of family cement,
+holding the two ends, big and little, together;' and Bessie responded
+that her elder sister Susan was one of that sort.
+
+The evenings now were quite unlike the usual ones.  Dinner was late,
+and the two girls came down to it.  Afterwards the young ones sat round
+the fire in the hall, where Bessie, who was a wonderful story-teller,
+kept Fergus and Valetta quiet and delighted, either with invented tales
+or histories of the feats of her own brothers and sisters, who were so
+much older than their Silverton first cousins as to be like an elder
+generation.
+
+When the two young ones were gone to bed, the others came into the
+drawing-room, where mamma and grandmamma were to be found, either going
+over papa's letters, or else Mrs.  Merrifield talking about her
+Stokesley grandchildren, the same whose pranks Bessie had just been
+telling, so that it was not easy to believe in Sam, a captain in the
+navy.  Harry and John farming in Canada, David working as a clergy-man
+in the Black Country, George in.  a government office, Anne a
+clergyman's wife, and mother to the great grandchildren who were always
+being compared to Primrose, Susan keeping her father's house, and
+Sarah, though as old as Alethea, still treated as the youngest--the
+child of the family.
+
+The bits of conversation came to the girls as they sat over their work,
+and Bessie would join in, and tell interesting things, till she saw
+that grandmamma was ready for her nap, and then one or other gave a
+little music, during which Dolly's bed-time generally came.
+
+'You can't think how grateful I am to you for helping to brighten up
+that poor child in a wholesome way!' said Lady Merrifield to Bessie,
+under cover of Gillian's performance.
+
+'One can't help being very sorry for her,' said Elizabeth, who knew
+what was hanging over Dolly.
+
+'Yes, it is a terrible punishment, especially as she has a certain
+affection for her step-uncle, or whatever he should be called, for her
+mother's sake.  It really was a perplexed situation.'
+
+'But why did she not consult you?'
+
+'Do you know, I think I have found out.  She held aloof from us all,
+and treated us--especially me--as if we were her natural enemies, and I
+never could guess what was the reason till the other day; she
+voluntarily gave me up all her books to be looked over and put into the
+common stock, which you saw in the schoolroom.'
+
+'You look over all the children's books?'
+
+'Yes.  While we were wandering, they did not get enough to make it a
+very arduous task, and now I find that they want weeding.  If children
+read nothing but a multitude of stories rather beneath their capacity,
+they are likely never to exert themselves to anything beyond novel
+reading.'
+
+'That is quite true, I believe.'
+
+'Well, among this literature of Dolly's I found no less than four
+stories based on the cruelty and injustice suffered by orphans from
+their aunts.  The wicked step-mothers are gone out, and the barbarous
+aunts are come in.  It is the stock subject.  I really think it is
+cruel, considering that there are many children who have to be adopted
+into uncles' families, to add to their distress and terror, by raising
+this prejudice.  Just look at this one'--taking up Dolly's favourite,
+'Clare; or No Home'--'it is not at all badly written, which makes it
+all the worse.'
+
+'Oh, Aunt Lilias,' cried Bessie, whose colour had been rising all this
+time.  'How shall I tell you? I wrote it!'
+
+'You! I never guessed you did anything in that line.'
+
+'We don't talk about it.  My father knows, and so does grandmamma, in a
+way; but I never bring it before her if I can help it, for she does not
+half like the notion.  But, indeed, they aren't all as bad as that! I
+know now there is a great deal of silly imitation in it; but I never
+thought of doing harm in this way.  It is a punishment for
+thoughtlessness,' cried poor Bessie, reddening desperately, and with
+tears in her eyes.
+
+'My dear, I am so sorry I said it! If I bad not one of these aunts, I
+should think it a very effective story.'
+
+'I'm afraid that's so much the worse!  Let me tell you about it, Aunt
+Lilias.  At home, they always laughed at me for my turn for
+dismalities.'
+
+'I believe one always has such a turn when one is young.'
+
+'Well, when I went to live with grandmamma, it was very different from
+the houseful at home, I had so much time on my hands, and I took to
+dreaming and writing because I could not help it, and all my stories
+were fearfully doleful.  I did not think of publishing them for ever so
+long, but at last when David terribly wanted some money for his mission
+church, I thought I would try, and this Clare was about the best.  They
+took it, and gave me five pounds for it, and I was so pleased and never
+thought of its doing harm, and now I don't know how much more mischief
+it may have done!'
+
+'You only thought of piling up the agony! But don't be unhappy about
+it.  You don't know how many aunts it may have warned.'
+
+'I'm afraid aunts are not so impressionable as nieces.  And, indeed,
+among ourselves story-books seemed quite outside from life, we never
+thought of getting any ideas from them any more than from Bluebeard.'
+
+'So it has been with some of mine, while, on the other hand, Dolores
+seemed to Mysie an interesting story-book heroine--which indeed she is,
+rather too much so.  But you have not stood still with Clare.'
+
+'No, I hope I have grown rather more sensible.  David set me to do
+stories for his lads, and, as he is dreadfully critical, it was very
+improving.'
+
+'Did you write 'Kate's Jewel'? That is delightful.  Aunt Jane gave it
+to Val this Christmas, and all of us have enjoyed it! We shall be quite
+proud of it--that is--may I tell the children?'
+
+'Oh, aunt, you are very good to try to make me forget that miserable
+Clare.  I wonder whether it will do any good to tell Dolores all about
+it.  Only I can't get at all the other girls I may have hurt.'
+
+'Nay, Bessie, I think it most likely that Dolores would have been an
+uncomfortable damsel, even if Clare had remained in your brain.  There
+were other causes, at any rate, here are three more persecuted nieces
+in her library.  Besides, as you observed, everybody does not go to
+story-books for views of human nature, and happily, also, homeless
+children are commoner in books than out of them, so I don't think the
+damage can be very extensive.'
+
+'One such case is quite enough! Indeed, it is a great lesson to think
+whether what one writes can give any wrong notion.'
+
+'I believe one always does begin with imitation.'
+
+'Yes, it is extraordinary how little originality there is in the world.
+In the literature of my time, everybody had small hands and high
+foreheads, the girls wanted to do great things, and did, or did not do,
+little ones, and the boys all took first classes, and the fashion was
+to have violet eyes, so dark you could not tell their colour, and
+golden hair.'
+
+'Whereas now the hair is apt to be bronze, whatever that may be like.'
+
+'And all the dresses, and all the complexions, and all the lace, and
+all the roses, are creamy.  Bessie, I hope you don't deal in
+creaminess!'
+
+'I'm afraid skim milk is more like me, and that you would say I had
+taken to the goody line.  I never thought of the responsibility then,
+only when I wrote for David's classes.'
+
+'It is a responsibility, I suppose, in the way in which every word one
+speaks and every letter one writes is so.  And now--here is Gillian
+finishing her piece.  How far is it a secret, my dear.'
+
+'It need not be so here, Aunt Lilias.  Only my people are rather old-
+fashioned, you know, and are inclined to think it rather shocking of
+me, so it ought not to go beyond the family, and especially don't  'let
+her,' indicating her grandmother, 'hear about it.  She knows I do such
+things--it would not be honest not to tell her--but it goes against the
+grain, and she has never heard one word of it all.'
+
+It appeared that Bessie daily read the psalms and lessons to
+grandmamma, followed up by a sermon.  Then, with her wonderful eyes,
+Mrs.  Merrifield read the newspaper from end to end, which lasted her
+till luncheon, then came a drive in the brougham, followed by a rest in
+her own room, dinner, and then Bessie read her to sleep with a book of
+travels or biography, of the old book-club class of her youth.  Her
+principles were against novels, and the tale she viewed as only fit for
+children.
+
+Lady Merrifield could not help thinking what a dull life it must be for
+Bessie, a woman full of natural gifts and of great powers of enjoyment,
+accustomed to a country home and a large family, and she said something
+of the kind.  'I did not like it at first,' said Bessie, 'but I have
+plenty of occupations now, besides all these companions that I've made
+for myself, or that came to me, for I think they come of themselves.'
+
+'But what time have you to yourself?'
+
+'Grandmamma does not want me till half-past ten in the morning, except
+for a little visit.  And she does not mind my writing letters while she
+is reading the paper, provided I am ready to answer anything
+remarkable.  I am quite the family newsmonger! Then there's always from
+four to half-past six when I can go out if I like.  There's a dear old
+governess of ours living not far off, and we have nice little
+expeditions together.  And you know it is nice to be at the family
+headquarters in London, and have every one dropping in.'
+
+'Oh dear! how good you are to like going on like that,' said Gillian,
+who had come up while this was passing; 'I should eat my heart out; you
+must be made up of contentment.'
+
+Elizabeth held up her hand in warning lest her grandmother should be
+wakened, but she laughed and said, 'My brothers would tell you I used
+to be Pipy Bet.  But that dear old governess.  Miss Fosbrook, was the
+making of me, and taught me how to be jolly like Mark Tapley among the
+rattlesnakes,' she finished, looking drolly up to Gillian.
+
+'And, Gill, you don't know what Bessie has made her companions instead
+of the rattlesnakes,' said Lady Merrifield.  'What do you think of
+"Kate's Jewel?"'
+
+Gillian's astonishment and rapture actually woke grandmamma; not that
+she made much noise, but there was a disturbing force about her
+excitement; and the subject had to be abandoned.
+
+As the great secret might be shared with Dolores, though not with the
+younger ones, whose discretion could not be depended upon, Gillian
+could enter upon it the more freely, though she was rather disappointed
+that an author was not such an extraordinary sight to Dolly as to
+herself.  But it was charming to both that Bessie let them look at the
+proofs of the story she was publishing in a magazine; and allowed them
+as well as mamma, to read the manuscript of the tale, romance, or
+novel, whichever it was to be called, on which she wished for her
+aunt's opinion.
+
+Bessie took care, when complying with the girls' entreaty, that she
+would tell them all she had written; to observe that, she thought
+'Clare' a very foolish book indeed, and that she wished heartily she
+had never written it.  Gillian asked why she had done it?
+
+'Oh,' said Dolores, 'things aren't interesting unless something horrid
+happens, or some one is frightened, or very miserable.'
+
+'I like things best just and exactly as they really are--or were,' said
+Gillian.
+
+'The question between sensation and character,' said Bessie to her
+aunt.  'I suppose that, on the whole, it is the few who are palpably
+affected by the mass of fiction in the world; but that it is needful to
+take good care that those few gather at least no harm from one's work--
+to be faithful in it, in fact, like other things.'
+
+And there was no doubt that Bessie had been faithful in her work ever
+since she had realized her vocation.  Her lending library books,
+written with a purpose, were excellent, and were already so much valued
+by Miss Hacket, that Gillian thought how once she should have felt it a
+privation not to be allowed to tell her whence they came; but to her
+surprise on the Sunday, instead of the constraint with which of late
+she had been treated at tea-time, the eager inquiry was made whether
+this was really the authoress, Miss Merrifield?
+
+Secrets are not kept as well as people think.  The Hackets' married
+sister was a neighbour of Bessie's married sister, and through these
+ladies it had just come round, not only who was the author of
+'Charlie's Whistle,' etc., but that she wrote in the ---- Magazine, and
+was in the neighbourhood.
+
+All offences seemed to be forgotten in the burning desire for an
+introduction to this marvel of success.  Constance had made the most of
+her opportunities in gazing at church; but if she called, would she be
+introduced?
+
+'Of course,' said Gillian, 'if my cousin is in the room.'  She spoke
+rather coldly and gravely, and Miss Hacket exclaimed--
+
+'I know we have been a little remiss, my dear, I hope Lady Merrifield
+was not offended.'
+
+'Mamma is never offended,' said Gillian--'but, I do think, and so would
+she and all of us, that if Constance comes, she ought to treat Dolores
+Mohun--as--as usual.'
+
+The two sisters were silent, perhaps from sheer amazement at this
+outbreak of Gillian's, who had never seemed particularly fond of her
+cousin.  Gillian was quite as much surprised at herself, but something
+seemed to drive her on, with flaming cheeks.  'Dolores is half broken-
+hearted about it all.  She did not thoroughly know how wrong it was;
+and it does make her miserable that the one who went along with her in
+it should turn against her, and cut her and all.'
+
+'Connie never meant to keep it up, I'm sure,' said Miss Hacket; 'but
+she was very much hurt.'
+
+'So was Dolly,' said Gillian.
+
+'Is she so fond of me?' said Constance, in a softened tone.
+
+'She was,' replied Gillian.
+
+'I'm sure,' said Miss Hacket, 'our only wish is to forget and forgive
+as Christians.  Lady Merrifield has behaved most handsomely, and it is
+our most earnest wish that this unfortunate transaction should be
+forgotten.'
+
+'And I'm sure I'm willing to overlook it all,' said Constance.  'One
+must have scrapes, you know; but friendship will triumph over all.'
+
+Gillian did not exactly wish to unravel this fine sentiment, and was
+glad that the little G.F.S. maid came in with the tea.
+
+Lady Merrifield was a good deal diverted with Gillian's report, and
+invited the two sisters to luncheon on the plea of their slight
+acquaintance with Anne--otherwise Mrs. Daventry--with a hint in the
+note not to compliment Mrs. Merrifield on Elizabeth's production.
+
+Then Dolores had to be prepared to receive any advance from Constance.
+She looked disgusted at first, and then, when she heard that Gillian
+had spoken her mind, said, 'I can't think why you should care.'
+
+'Of course I care, to have Constance behaving so ill to one of us.'
+
+'Do you think me one of you, Gillian?'
+
+'Who, what else are you?'
+
+And Dolores held up her face for a kiss, a heartier one than had ever
+passed between the cousins.  There was no kiss between the quondam
+friends, but they shook hands with perfect civility, and no stranger
+would have guessed their former or their present terms from their
+manner.  In fact, Constance was perfectly absorbed in the contemplation
+of the successful authoress, the object of her envy and veneration, and
+only wanted to forget all the unpleasantness connected with the dark
+head on the opposite side of the table.
+
+'Oh Miss Merrifield,' she asked, in an interval afterwards, when hats
+were being put on, 'bow do you make them take your things?'
+
+'I don't know,' said Bessie, smiling.  'I take all the pains I can, and
+try to make them useful.'
+
+'Useful, but that's so dull--and the critics always laugh at things
+with a purpose.'
+
+'But I don't think that is a reason for not trying to do good, even in
+this very small and uncertain way.  Indeed,' she added, earnestly.  'I
+have no right to speak, for I have made great mistakes; but I wanted to
+tell you that the one thing I did get published, which was not written
+conscientiously--as I may say--but only to work out a silly,
+sentimental fancy, has brought me pain and punishment by the harm I
+know I did.'
+
+This was a very new idea to Constance, and she actually carried it away
+with her.  The visit had restored the usual terms of intercourse with
+the Hackets, though there was no resumption of intimacy such as there
+had been, between Constance and Dolores.  It had, however, done much to
+make the latter feel that the others considered themselves one with
+them, and there was something that drew them together in the universal
+missing of Mysie, and eagerness for her letters.
+
+These were, however, rather disappointing.  Mysie had not a genius for
+correspondence, and dealt in very bare facts.  There was an enclosure
+which made Lady Merrifield somewhat anxious:
+
+
+'My Dear Mamma,
+'This is for you all by yourself.  I have been in sad mischief, for I
+broke the conservatory and a palm-tree with my umbrella; and I did
+still worse, for I broke my promise and told all about what you told me
+never to.  I will tell you all when I come home, and I hope you will
+forgive me.  I wish I was at home.  It is very horrid when they say one
+is good and one knows one is not; but I am very happy, and Lord
+Rotherwood is nicer than ever, and so is Fly.
+'I am your affectionate and penitent and dutiful little daughter,
+                                    'MARIA MILLICENT MERRIFIELD.'
+
+
+With all mamma's intuitive knowledge of her little daughter's mind and
+forms of expression, she was puzzled by this note and the various
+fractures it described.  She obeyed its injunctions of secrecy, even
+with regard to Gillian and Bessie, though she could not help wishing
+that the latter could have seen and judged of her Mysie.
+
+Grandmamma was somewhat disappointed to have missed her eldest
+grandson, but she was obliged to leave Silverton two days before his
+return with his little sister.  She had certainly escaped the full
+tumult of the entire household, but Bessie observed that she suspected
+that it might have been preferred to the general quiescence.
+
+In spite of all the regrets that Bessie's more coeval cousins, Alethea
+and Phyllis were not at home, she and her aunt each felt that a new
+friendship had been made, and that they understood each other, and
+Bessie had uttered her resolution henceforth always to think of the
+impression for good or evil produced on the readers, as well as of the
+effectiveness of her story.  'Little did I suppose that 'Clare' would
+add to any one's difficulties,' she said, 'still less to yours, Aunt
+Lilias.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE.
+
+
+
+Here were the travellers at home again, and Mysie clinging to her
+mother, with, 'Oh, Mamma!' and a look of perfect rest.  They arrived at
+the same time as Dolores had come, so late that Mysie was tired out,
+and only half awake.  She was consigned to Mrs. Halfpenny after her
+first kiss, but as she passed along the corridor, a door was thrown
+back, and a white figure sprang upon her.  'Oh, Mysie! Mysie!' and in
+spite of the nurse's chidings, held her fast in an embrace of delight.
+Dolores had been lying awake watching for her, and implored permission
+at least to look on while she was going to bed!
+
+Harry meanwhile related his experiences to his mother and Gillian over
+the supper-table.  The Butterfly's Ball had been a great success.  He
+had never seen anything prettier in his life.  Plants and lights had
+been judiciously disposed so as to make the hall a continuation of the
+conservatory, almost a fairy land, and the children in their costumes
+had been more like fairies than flesh and blood, pinafore and bread-
+and-butter beings.  There was a most perfect tableau at the opening of
+the scenery constructed with moss and plants, so as to form a bower,
+where the Butterfly and Grasshopper, with their immediate attendants,
+welcomed their company, and afterwards formed the first quadrille, Lady
+Phyllis, with Mysie and two other little girls staying in the house,
+being the butterflies, and Lord Ivinghoe and three more boys of the
+same ages, the grasshoppers, in pages' dresses of suitable colours.
+
+'I never thought,' said Harry, 'that our little brown mouse would come
+out so pretty or so swell.'
+
+'She wanted to be the dormouse,' said Gillian.
+
+'That was impracticable.  They were all heath butterflies of different
+sorts, wings very correctly coloured and dresses to correspond.
+Phyllis the ringlet with the blue lining, Mysie, the blue one, little
+Lady Alberta, the orange-tip, and the other child the burnet moth.'
+
+'How did Mysie dance?'
+
+'Very fairly, if she had not looked so awfully serious.  The dancing-
+mistress, French, of course, had trained them, it was more ballet than
+quadrille, and they looked uncommonly pretty.  Uncle William granted
+that, though he grumbled at the whole concern as nonsense, and wondered
+you should send your nice little girl into it to have her head turned.'
+
+'Do you think she was happy?'
+
+'Oh, yes, of course.  She always is, but she was in prodigious spirits
+when we started to come home. Lady Rotherwood said I was to tell you
+that no child could be more truthful and conscientious.  Still somehow
+she did not look like the swells.  Except that once, when she was got
+up regardless of expense for the ball, she always had the country mouse
+look about her.  She hadn't--'
+
+'The 'Jenny Say Caw,' as Macrae calls it?' said his mother.  'Well, I
+can endure that! You need not look so disgusted, Gill.  You didn't hear
+of her getting into any scrape, did you?'
+
+'No,' said Hal.  'Stay, I believe she did break some glass or other,
+and blurted out her confession in full assembly, but I was over at
+Beechcroft, and I am happy to say I didn't see her.'
+
+Mysie's tap came early to her mother's door the next morning, and it
+was in the midst of her toilette that Lady Merrifield was called on to
+hear the confession that had been weighing on the little girl's mind.
+
+'I was too sleepy to tell you last night, mamma, but I did want to do
+so.'
+
+'Well, then, my dear, begin at the beginning, for I could not
+understand your letter.'
+
+'The beginning was, mamma, that we had just come in from our walk, and
+we went out into the schoolroom balcony, because we could see round the
+corner who was coming up the drive.  And we began playing at camps,
+with umbrellas up as tents.  Ivinghoe, and Alberta, and I.  Ivy was
+general, and I was the sentry, with my umbrella shut up, and over my
+shoulder.  I was the only one who knew how to present arms.  I heard
+something coming, and called out, 'Who goes there?' and Alberta jumped
+up in such a hurry that the points other tent--her umbrella, I mean--
+scratched my face, and before I could recover arms, over went my
+umbrella, perpendicular, straight  smash through the glass of the
+conservatory, and we heard it.'
+
+'And what did you do? Of course you told!'
+
+"Oh yes! I jumped up and said, 'I'll go and tell Lady Rotherwood.'  I
+knew I must before I got into a fright, and Ivinghoe said I couldn't
+then, and he would speak to his mother and make it easy for me, and Ply
+says he really meant it; but I thought then that's the way the bad ones
+always get the others into concealments and lies.  So I wouldn't listen
+a moment, and I ran down, with him after me, saying, 'Hear reason,
+Mysie.' And I ran full butt up against some-body--Lord Ormersfield it
+was, I found--but I didn't know then.  I only said something about
+begging pardon, and dashed on, and opened the door.  I saw a whole lot
+of fine people all at five-o'clock tea, but I couldn't stop to get more
+frightened, and I went up straight to Lady Rotherwood and said,
+'Please, I did it.'  Mamma do you think I ought not?"
+
+'There are such things as fit places and times, my dear.  What did she
+say?'
+
+"At first she just said, 'My dear, I cannot attend to you now, run
+away;' but then in the midst, a thought seemed to strike her, and she
+said, rather frightened, 'Is any one hurt?' and I said, Oh no; only my
+umbrella has gone right through the roof of the conservatory, and I
+thought I ought to come and tell her directly.  'That was the noise,'
+said some of the people, and everybody got up and went to look.  And
+there were Fly and Ivy, who had got in some other way, and the umbrella
+was sticking right upright in the top of one of those palm-trees with
+leaves like screens, and somebody said it was a new development of
+fruit.  Lady Rotherwood asked them what they were doing there, and Ivy
+said they had come to see what harm was done.  Dear Fly ran up to her
+and said,  'We were all at play together, mother; it was not one more
+than another;'  but Lady Rotherwood only said, 'That's enough, Phyllis,
+I will come to you by-and-by in the schoolroom,' and she would have
+sent us away if Cousin Rotherwood himself had not come in just then,
+and asked what was the matter.  I heard some of the answers; they were
+very odd, mamma.  One was, 'A storm of umbrellas and of untimely
+confessions;' and another was, 'Truth in undress.'"
+
+'Oh, my dear? I hope you were fit to be seen?'
+
+'I forgot about that, mamma, I had taken off my ulster, and had my
+little scarlet flannel underbody, so as to make a better soldier.'
+
+'Oh!' groaned Lady Merrifield.
+
+'And then that dear, good Fly gave a jump and flew at him, and said,
+'Oh, daddy, daddy, it's Mysie, and she has been telling the truth like--
+like Frank, or Sir Thomas More, or George Washington, or anybody.' She
+really did say so, mamma.'
+
+'I can quite believe it of her, Mysie! And how did Cousin Rotherwood
+respond?'
+
+'He sat down upon one of the seats, and took Fly on one knee and me on
+the other, though we were big for it--just like papa, you know--and
+made us tell him all about it.  Lady Rotherwood got the others out of
+the way somehow--I don't know how, for my back was that way, and I
+think Ivinghoe went after them, but there was some use in talking to
+Cousin Rotherwood; he has got some sense, and knows what one means, as
+if he was at the dear, nice playing age, and Ivinghoe was his stupid
+old father in a book.'
+
+'Exactly,' said Lady Merrifield, delighted, and longing to laugh.
+
+'But that was the worst of it,' said Mysie, sadly; 'he was so nice that
+I said all sorts of things I didn't mean or ought to have said.  I told
+him I would pay for the glass if he would only wait till we had helped
+Dolores pay for those books that the cheque was for, because the man
+came alive again, after her wicked uncle said he was dead, and so
+somehow it all came out; how you made up to Miss Constance and couldn't
+come to the Butterfly's Ball for want of new dresses.'
+
+'Oh, Mysie, you should not have said that!  I thought you were to be
+trusted!'
+
+'Yes, mamma, I know,' said Mysie, meekly.  'I recollected as soon as I
+had said it; and told him, and he kissed me and promised he would never
+tell anyone, and made Fly promise that she never would.  But I have
+been so miserable about it ever since, mamma; I tried to write it in a
+letter, but I am afraid you didn't half understand.'
+
+'I only saw that something was on your mind, my dear.  Now that is all
+over, I do not so much mind Cousin Rotherwood's knowing, he has always
+been so like a brother; but I do hope both he and Fly will keep their
+word.  I am more sorry for my little girl's telling than about his
+knowing.'
+
+'And Ivinghoe said my running in that way on all the company was worse
+than breaking the glass or the palm-tree.  Was it, mamma?'
+
+'Well, you know, Mysie, there is a time for all things, and very likely
+it vexed Lady Rotherwood more to be invaded by such a little wild
+colt.'
+
+'But not Cousin Rotherwood himself, mamma,' said Mysie, 'for he said I
+was quite right, and an honourable little fellow, just like old times.
+And so I told Ivy.  And he said in such a way, 'Every one knew what his
+father was.' So I told him his father was ten thousand times nicer than
+ever he would be if be lived a hundred years, and I could not bear him
+if he talked in that wicked, disrespectful way, and Fly kissed me for
+it, mamma, and said her daddy was worth a hundred of such a prig as he
+was.'
+
+'My dear, I am afraid neither you nor Fly showed your good manners.'
+
+'It was only Ivinghoe, mamma, and I'm sure I don't care what he thinks,
+if he could talk of his father in that way.  Isn't it what you call
+metallical--no--ironical?'
+
+'Indeed, Mysie, I don't wonder it made you very angry, and I can't be
+sorry you showed your indignation.'
+
+'But please, mamma, what ought I to have done about the glass?'
+
+'I don't quite know; I think a very wise little girl might have gone to
+Cousin Florence's room and consulted her.  It would have been better
+than making an explosion before so many people.  Florence was kind to
+you, I hope.'
+
+'Oh yes, mamma, it was almost like being at home in her room; and she
+has such a dear little house at the end of the park.'
+
+A good deal more oozed out from Mysie to different auditors at
+different times.  By her account everything was delightful, and yet
+mamma concluded that all had not absolutely fulfilled the paradisiacal
+expectation with which her country mouse had viewed Rotherwood from
+afar.  Lady Rotherwood was very kind, and so was the governess, and
+Cousin Florence especially.  Cousin Florence's house felt just like a
+bit of home.  It really was the dearest little house--and fluffy cat
+and kittens, and the sweetest love birds.  It was perfectly delicious
+when they drank tea there, but unluckily she was not allowed to go
+thither without the governess or Louise, as it was all across the park,
+and a bit of village.
+
+And Fly? Oh, Fly was always dear and good and funny; but there was
+Alberta to be attended to, and other little girls sometimes, and it was
+not like having her here at home; nor was there any making a row in the
+galleries, nor playing at anything really jolly, though the great
+pillars in the hall seemed made for tying cords to make a spider's web.
+It was always company, except when Cousin Rotherwood called them into
+his den for a little fun.  But he had gentlemen to entertain most of
+the time, and the only day that he could have taken them to see the
+farm and the pheasants, Lady Rotherwood said that Phyllis was a little
+hoarse and must not get a cold before the ball.
+
+And as to the Butterfly's Ball itself? Imagination had depicted a
+splendid realization of the verses, and it was flat to find it merely a
+children's fancy ball, no acting at all, only dancing, and most of the
+children not attempting any characteristic dress, only with some insect
+attached to head or shoulder; nothing approaching to the fun of the
+rehearsal at Silverton, as indeed Fly had predicted.  The only attempt
+at representation had cost Mysie more trouble than pleasure, for the
+training to dance together had been a difficult and wearisome business.
+Two of the grass-hoppers had been greatly displeased about it, and
+called it a beastly shame, words much shocking gentle Mysie from
+aristocratic lips.  One of them had been as sulky, angry, and
+impracticable as possible, just like a log, and the other had consoled
+himself with all manner of tricks, especially upon the teacher and on
+Ivinghoe.  He would skip like a real grasshopper, he made faces that
+set all laughing, he tripped Ivinghoe up, he uttered saucy speeches
+that Mysie considered too shocking to repeat, but which convulsed every
+one with laughter, Fly most especially, and her governess had punished
+her for it.  'She would not punish me,' said Mysie, 'though I know I
+was just as bad, and I think that was a shame!' At last the practising
+had to be carried on without the boys, and yet, when it came to the
+point, both the recusants behaved as well and danced as suitably as if
+they had submitted to the training like their sisters! And oh! the
+dressing, that was worse.
+
+'I did not think I was so stupid,' said Mysie, 'but I heard Louise tell
+mademoiselle that I was trop bourgeoise, and mademoiselle answered that
+I was plutot petite paysanne, and would never have l'air de
+distinction.
+
+'Abominable impertinence!' cried Gillian.
+
+"They thought I did not understand,' said Mysie, 'and I knew it was
+fair to tell them, so I said, 'Mais non, car je suis la petite souris
+de compagne.'"
+
+'Well done, Mysie!' cried her sister.
+
+'They did jump, and Louise began apologizing in a perfect gabble, and
+mademoiselle said I had de l'esprit, but I am sure I did not mean it.'
+
+'But how could they?' exclaimed Gillian.  'I'm sure Mysie looks like a
+lady, a gentleman's child--I mean as much as Fly or any one else.'
+
+'I trust you all look like gentlewomen, and are such in refinement and
+manners, but there is an air, which comes partly of birth, partly of
+breeding, and that none of you, except, perhaps, Alethea, can boast of,
+and about which papa and I don't care one rush.'
+
+'Has Fly got it, mamma?' said Valetta.  'She seemed like one of
+ourselves.'
+
+'Oh, yes,' put in Dolores.  'It was what made me think her stuck up.  I
+should have known her for a swell anywhere.'
+
+'I'm sure Fly has no airs!' exclaimed Val, hotly, and Gillian was ready
+to second her; but Lady Merrifield explained.  'The absence of airs is
+one ingredient, Val, both in being ladylike, and in the distinction in
+which the maid justly perceived our Mouse to be deficient.  Come, you
+foolish girls, don't look concerned.  Nobody but the maid would have
+ever let Mysie perceive the difference.'
+
+Mysie coloured and answered, 'I don't know; I saw the Fitzhughs look at
+me at first as if they did not think I belonged, and Ivinghoe was
+always so awfully polite that I thought he was laughing at me.'
+
+'Ivinghoe must be horrid,' broke out Valetta.
+
+'The Fitzhughs said they would knock it out of him at Eton,' returned
+Mysie.  'They got very nice after the first day, and said Fly and I
+were twice as jolly fellows as he was.'
+
+It further appeared that Mysie had had plenty of partners at the ball,
+and on all occasions her full share of notice, the country neighbours
+welcoming her as her mother's daughter, but most of them saying she was
+far more like her Aunt Phyllis than her own mother.  The dancing and
+excitement so late at night had, however, tired her overmuch, she had
+cramp all the remainder of the night, could eat no breakfast the next
+day, and was quite miserable.
+
+'I should like to have cried for you, mamma' she said, 'but they were
+all quite used to it, and not a bit tired.  However, Cousin Florence
+came in, and she was so kind.  She took me to the little west room, and
+made me lie on the sofa, and read to me till I went to sleep, and I was
+all right after dinner and had a ride on Fly's old pony, Dormouse.  She
+has the loveliest new one, all bay, with a black mane and tail, called
+Fairy, but Alberta had that.  Oh it was so nice.'
+
+Altogether Lady Merrifield was satisfied that her little girl had not
+been spoilt for home by her taste of dissipation, though she did not
+hear the further confidence to Dolores in the twilight by the
+schoolroom fire.
+
+'Do you know, Dolly, though Fly is such a darling, and they all wanted
+to be kind as well as they knew how, I came to understand how horrid
+you must have felt when you came among the whole lot of us.'
+
+'But you knew Fly already?'
+
+'That made it better, but I don't like it.  To feel one does not
+belong, and to be afraid to open a door for fear it should be
+somebody's room, and not quite to know who every one is.  Oh, dear! it
+is enough to make anybody cross and stupid.  Oh, I am so glad to be
+back again.'
+
+'I'm sure I am glad you are,' and there was a little kissing match.
+'You'll always come to my room, won't you? Do you know, when Constance
+came to luncheon, I only shook hands, I wouldn't try to kiss her.  Was
+that unforgiving?'
+
+'I am sure I couldn't,' said Mysie; 'did she try?'
+
+'I don't think so; I don't think I ever could kiss her; for I never
+should have said what was not true without her, and that is what makes
+Uncle Reginald so angry still.  He would not kiss me even when he went
+away.  Oh, Mysie! that's worse than anything,' and Dolores's face
+contracted with tears very near at hand.  'I did always so love Uncle
+Regie, and he won't forgive me, and father will be just the same.'
+
+'Poor dear, dear Dolly,' said Mysie, hugging her.
+
+'But you know fathers always forgive, and we will try and make a little
+prayer about it, like the Prodigal Son's, you know.'
+
+'I don't blow properly,' said Dolores.
+
+'I think I can say him,' said Mysie, and the little girls sat with
+enfolded arms, while Mysie reverently went through the parable.
+
+'But he had been very wicked indeed,' objected Dolores, 'what one calls
+dissipated.  Isn't that making too much of such things as girls like us
+can do.'
+
+'I don't know,' said Mysie, knitting her young brows; 'you see if we
+are as bad as ever we can be while we are at home, it is really and
+truly as bad in us ourselves as in shocking people that run away,
+because it shows we might have done anything if we had not been taken
+care of.  And the poor son felt as if he could not be pardoned, which
+is just what you do feel.'
+
+'Aunt Lily forgives me,' said Dolores, wistfully.
+
+'And your father will, I'm sure,' said Mysie, 'though he is yet a great
+way off.  And as to Uncle Regie, I do wish something would happen that
+you could tell the truth about.  If you had only broken the palm-tree
+instead of me, and I didn't do right even about that!  But if any
+mischief does happen, or accident, I promise you, Dolly, you shall have
+the telling of it, if you have had ever so little to do with it, and
+then mamma will write to Uncle Regie that you have proved yourself
+truthful.'
+
+Dolores did not seem much consoled by this curious promise, and Mysie's
+childishness suddenly gave way to something deeper.  'I suppose,' she
+said, 'if one is true, people find it out and trust one.'
+
+'People can't see into one,' said Dolly.
+
+'Mamma says there is a bright side and a dark side from which to look
+at everybody and everything,' said Mysie.
+
+'I know that,' said Dolores; 'I looked at the dark side of you all
+when I came here.'
+
+'Some day,' said Mysie, 'your bright side will come round to Uncle
+Regie, as it has to us, you dear, dear old Dolly.'
+
+'But do you know, Mysie,' whispered Dolores, in her embrace, 'there's
+something more dreadful that I'm very much afraid of.  Do you know
+there hasn't been a letter from father since he was staying with Aunt
+Phyllis--not to me, nor Aunt Jane, nor anybody!'
+
+'Well, he couldn't write when he was at sea, I mean there wasn't any
+post.'
+
+'It would not take so long as this to get to Fiji; and besides.  Uncle
+Regie telegraphed to ask about that dreadful cheque, and there hasn't
+been any answer at all.'
+
+'Perhaps he is gone about sailing somewhere in the Pacific Ocean; I
+heard Uncle William saying so to Cousin Rotherwood.' He said, 'Maurice
+is not a fellow to resist a cruise.'
+
+'Then they are thinking about it.  They are anxious.'
+
+'Not very,' said Mysie, 'for they think he is sure to be gone on a
+cruise.  They said something about his going down like a carpenter into
+the deep sea.'
+
+'Making deep-sea soundings, like Dr. Carpenter! A carpenter, indeed!'
+said Dolores, laughing for a moment.  'Oh! if it is that, I don't
+mind.'
+
+The weight was lifted, but by-and-by, when the two girls said their
+prayers together, poor Dolores broke forth again, 'Oh, Mysie, Mysie,
+your papa has all--all of you, besides mamma, to pray that he may be
+kept safe, and my father has only me, only horrid me, to pray for him,
+and even I have never cared to do it really till just lately! Oh, poor,
+poor father!  And suppose he should be drowned, and never, never have
+forgiven me!'
+
+It was a trouble and misery that recurred night after night, though
+apparently it weighed much less during the day--and nobody but Mysie
+knew how much Dolores was suffering from it.  Lady Merrifield was
+increasingly anxious as time went on, and still no mail brought letters
+from Mr.  Mohun, but confidence based on his erratic habits, and the
+uncertainty of communication began to fail.  And as she grieved more
+for the possible loss, she became more and more tender to her niece,
+and strange to say, in spite of the terror that gnawed so achingly
+every night, and of the ordeal that the Lent Assizes would bring,
+Dolores was happier and more peaceful than ever before at Silverton,
+and developed more of her bright side.
+
+'I really think,' wrote Lady Merrifield to Miss Mohun, 'that she is
+growing more simple and child-like, poor little maid.  She is
+apparently free from all our apprehensions about dear Maurice, and I
+would not inspire her with them for the world.  Neither does she seem
+to dread the trial, as I do for her, nor to guess what cross-
+examination may be.  Constance Hacket has been subpoenaed, and her
+sister expatiates on her nervousness.  It is one comfort that Reginald
+must be there as a witness, so that it is not in the power of Irish
+disturbances to keep him from us! May we only be at ease about Maurice
+by that time!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+IN COURT AND OUT.
+
+
+
+How Dolores's heart beat when Colonel Mohun drove up to the door! She
+durst not run out to greet him among her cousins; but stood by her
+aunt, feeling hot and cold and trembling, in the doubt whether he would
+kiss her.
+
+Yes, she did feel his kiss, and Mysie looked at her in congratulation.
+But what did it mean? Was it only that it came as a matter of course,
+and he forgot to withhold it, or was it that he had given up hopes of
+her father, and was sorry for her? She could not make up her mind, for
+he came so late in the evening that she scarcely saw him before bed-
+time, and he did not take any special notice of her the next morning.
+He had done his best to save her from being long detained at
+Darminster, by ascertaining as nearly as possible when Flinders's case
+would come on, and securing a room at the nearest inn, where she might
+await a summons into court.  Lady Merrifield was going with them, but
+would not take either of her daughters, thinking that every home eye
+would be an additional distress, and that it was better that no one
+should see or remember Dolores as a witness.
+
+Miss Mohun met the party at the station, going off, however, with her
+brother into court, after having established Lady Merrifield and her
+niece in an inn parlour, where they kept as quiet as they could, by the
+help of knitting, and reading aloud.  Lady Merrifield found that
+Dolores had been into court before, and knew enough about it to need no
+explanation or preparation, and being much afraid of causing agitation,
+she thought it best only to try to interest her in such tales as
+'Neale's Triumphs of the Cross,' instead of letting her dwell on what
+she most dreaded, the sight of the prisoner, and the punishment her
+words might bring upon him.
+
+The morning ended, and Uncle Reginald brought word that his case would
+come on immediately after luncheon.  This he shared with his sister and
+niece, saying that Jane had gone to a pastrycook's with--with
+Rotherwood--thinking this best for Dolly.  He seemed to be in strangely
+excited spirits, and was quite his old self to Dolores, tempting her to
+eat, and showing himself so entirely the kind uncle that she would have
+been quite cheered up if she had not been afraid that it was all out of
+pity, and that he knew something dreadful.
+
+Lord Rotherwood met them at the hotel entrance, and took his cousin on
+his arm; Dolores following with her uncle, was sure that she gave a
+great start at something that he said; but she had to turn in a
+different direction to wait under the charge of her uncle, who treated
+her as if she were far more childish and inexperienced in the ways of
+courts than she really was, and instructed her in much that she knew
+perfectly well; but it was too comfortable to have him kind to her for
+her to take the least offence, and she only said 'Yes' and 'Thank you'
+at the proper places.
+
+The sheriff, meantime, had given Lord Rotherwood and Lady Merrifield
+seats near the judge, where Miss Mohun was already installed.  Alfred
+Flinders was already at the bar, and for the first time Lady Merrifield
+saw his somewhat handsome but shifty-looking face and red beard, as the
+counsel for the prosecution was giving a detailed account of his
+embarrassed finances, and of his having obtained from the inexperienced
+kindness of a young lady, a mere child in age, who called him uncle,
+though without blood relationship, a draft of her father's for seven
+pounds, which, when presented at the bank, had become one for seventy.
+
+As before, the presenting and cashing of the seventy pounds was sworn
+to by the banker's clerk, and then Dolores Mary Mohun was called.
+
+There she stood, looking smaller than usual in her black, close-fitting
+dress and hat, in a place meant for grown people, her dark face pale
+and set, keeping her eyes as much as she could from the prisoner.  When
+the counsel spoke she gave a little start, for she knew him, as one who
+had often spent an evening with her parents, in the cheerful times
+while her mother lived.  There was something in the familiar glance of
+his eyes that encouraged her, though he looked so much altered by his
+wig and gown, and it seemed strange that he should question her, as a
+stranger, on her exact name and age, her father's absence, the
+connection with the prisoner, and present residence.  Then came:
+
+'Did your father leave any money with you?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'What was the amount?'
+
+'Five pounds for myself; seven besides.'
+
+'In what form was the seven pounds?'
+
+'A cheque from W.'s bank.'
+
+'Did you part with it?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'To whom?'
+
+'I sent it to him.'
+
+'To whom if you please?'
+
+'To Mr. Alfred Flinders.' And her voice trembled.
+
+'Can you tell me when you sent it away?'
+
+'It was on the 22nd of December.'
+
+'Is this the cheque?'
+
+'It has been altered.'
+
+'Explain in what manner?'
+
+'There has 'ty' been put at the end of the written 'seven,' and a
+cipher after the figure 7 making it 70.'
+
+'You are sure that it was not so when it went out of your possession?'
+
+'Perfectly sure.'
+
+Mr. Calderwood seemed to have done with her, and said, 'Thank you;' but
+then there stood up a barrister, whom she suspected of being a man her
+mother had disliked, and she knew that the worst was coming when he
+said, in a specially polite voice too, 'Allow me to ask whether the
+cheque in question had been intended by Mr. Mohun for the prisoner?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Or was it given to you as pocket-money?'
+
+'No, it was to pay a bill.'
+
+'Then did you divert it from that purpose?'
+
+'I thought the man was dead.'
+
+'What man?'
+
+'Professor Muhlwasser.'
+
+'The creditor?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Mr. Calderwood objected to these questions as irrelevant; but the
+prisoner's counsel declared them to be essential, and the judge let him
+go on to extract from Dolores that the payment was intended for an
+expensive illustrated work on natural history, which was to be
+published in Germany.  Her father had promised to take two copies of it
+if it were completed; but being doubtful whether this would ever be the
+case, he had preferred leaving a draft with her to letting the account
+be discharged by his brother, and he had reckoned that seven pounds
+would cover the expense.
+
+'You say you supposed the author was dead.  What reason had you for
+thinking so?'
+
+'He told me; Mr. Flinders did.'
+
+'Had Mr. Mohun sanctioned your applying this sum to any other purpose
+than that specified?'
+
+'No, he had not.  I did wrong,' said Dolores, firmly.
+
+He wrinkled up his forehead, so that the point of his wig went upwards,
+and proceeded to inquire whether she had herself given the cheque to
+the prisoner.
+
+'I sent it.'
+
+'Did you post it?'
+
+'Not myself.  I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send it for me.'
+
+'Can you swear to the sum for which it was drawn when you parted with
+it?'
+
+'Yes.  I looked at it to see whether it was pounds or guineas.'
+
+'Did you give it loose or in an envelope?'
+
+'In an envelope.'
+
+'Was any other person aware of your doing so?'
+
+'Nobody.'
+
+'What led you to make this advance to the prisoner?'
+
+'Because he told me that he was in great distress.'
+
+'He told you.  By letter or in person?'
+
+'In person.'
+
+'When did he tell you so?'
+
+'On the 22nd of December.'
+
+'And where?'
+
+'At Darminster.'
+
+'Let me ask whether this interview at Darminster took place with the
+knowledge of the lady with whom you reside?'
+
+'No, it did not,' said Dolores, colouring deeply.
+
+'Was it a chance meeting?'
+
+'No--by appointment.'
+
+'How was the appointment made?'
+
+'We wrote to say we would come that day.'
+
+'We--who was the other party?'
+
+'Miss Constance Hacket.'
+
+'You were then in correspondence with the prisoner.  Was it with the
+sanction of Lady Merrifield?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'A secret correspondence, then, romantically carried on--by what
+means?'
+
+'Constance Hacket sent the letters and received them for me.'
+
+'What was the motive for this arrangement?'
+
+'I knew my aunt would prevent my having anything to do with him.'
+
+'And you--excuse me--what interest had you in doing so?'
+
+'My mother had been like his sister, and always helped him.'
+
+All these answers were made with a grave, resolute straightforwardness,
+generally with something of Dolores's peculiar stony look, and only
+twice was there any involuntary token of feeling, when she blushed at
+confessing the concealment from her aunt, and at the last question,
+when her voice trembled as she spoke of her mother.  She kept her eyes
+on her interrogators all the time, never once glancing towards the
+prisoner, though all the time she had a sensation as if his reproachful
+looks were piercing her through.
+
+She was dismissed, and Constance Hacket was brought in, looking about
+in every direction, carrying a handkerchief and scent bottle, and not
+attempting to conceal her flutter of agitation.
+
+Mr. Calderwood had nothing to ask her but about her having received the
+cheque from Miss Mohun and forwarded it to Flinders, though she could
+not answer for the date without a public computation back from
+Christmas Day, and forward from St. Thomas's.  As to the amount--
+
+'Oh, yes, certainly, seven pounds.'
+
+Moreover she had posted it herself.
+
+Then came the cross-examination,
+
+'Had she seen the draft before posting it?'
+
+'Well--she really did not remember exactly.'
+
+'How did she know the amount then?'
+
+'Well, I think--yes--I think Dolores told me so.'
+
+'You think,' he said, in a sort of sneer.  'On your oath.  Do you
+know?'
+
+'Yes, yes, yes.  She assured me! I know something was said about
+seven.'
+
+'Then you cannot swear to the contents of the envelope you forwarded?'
+
+'I don't know.  It was all such a confusion and hurry.'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'Oh! because it was a secret.'
+
+The counsel of course availed himself of this handle to elicit that the
+witness had conducted a secret correspondence between the prisoner and
+her young friend without the knowledge of the child's natural
+protectors.  'A perfect romance,' he said, 'I believe the prisoner is
+unmarried.'
+
+Perhaps this insinuation would have been checked, but before any one
+had time to interfere, Constance, blushing crimson, exclaimed, 'Oh! Oh!
+I assure you it was not that.  It was because she said he was her uncle
+and that they ill-used him.'
+
+This brought upon her the searching question whether the last witness
+had stated the prisoner to be really her uncle, and Constance replied,
+rather hotly, that she had always understood that he was.
+
+'In fact, she gave you to understand that the prisoner was actually
+related to her by blood.  Did you say that she also told you that he
+was persecuted or ill-used by her other relations?'
+
+'I thought so.  Yes, I am sure she said so.'
+
+'And it was wholly and solely on these grounds that you assisted in
+this clandestine correspondence?'
+
+'Why--yes--partly,' faltered Constance, thinking of her literary
+efforts, 'so it began.'
+
+There was a manifest inclination to laugh in the audience, who
+naturally thought her hesitation implied something very different; and
+the judge, thinking that there was no need to push her further, when
+Mr. Calderwood represented that all this did not bear on the matter,
+and was no evidence, silenced Mr. Yokes, and the witness was dismissed.
+
+The next point was that Colonel Reginald Mohun was called upon to
+attest that the handwriting was his brother's.  He answered for the
+main body of the draft, and the signature, but the additions, in which
+the forgery lay, were so slight that it was impossible to swear that
+they did not come from the hand of Maurice Mohun.
+
+'Had application been made to Mr. Mohun on the subject?'
+
+'Yes, Colonel Mohun had immediately telegraphed to him at the address
+in the Fiji Islands.'
+
+'Has any answer been received?'
+
+'No!' but Colonel Mohun had a curious expression in his eyes, and Mr.
+Calderwood electrified the court by begging to call upon Mr. Maurice
+Mohun.
+
+There he was in the witness-box, looking sunburnt but vigorous.  He
+replied immediately to the question that the cheque was his own, and
+that it had been left under his daughter's charge, also that it had
+been for seven pounds, and the 'ty' and the cypher had never been
+written by him.  The prisoner winced for a moment, and then looked at
+him defiantly.
+
+The connection with Alfred Flinders was inquired into and explained,
+and being asked as to the term 'Uncle,' he replied, 'My daughter was
+allowed to get into the habit of so terming him.'
+
+The sisters saw his look of pain, and Jane remembered his strong
+objection to the title, and his wife's indignant defence of it.
+
+Dolores stood trembling outside in the waiting-room, by her Uncle
+Reginald, from whom she heard that her father had come that morning
+from London with Lord Rotherwood, but that it had been thought better
+not to agitate her by letting her know of it before she gave her
+evidence.
+
+'Has he had my letter?' she asked.
+
+'No; he knew nothing till he saw Rotherwood last night.'
+
+All the misery of writing the confession came back upon poor Dolores,
+and she turned quite white and sick, but her uncle said kindly, 'Never
+mind, my dear, he was very much pleased with your manner of giving
+evidence.  Such a contrast to your friend's.  Faugh!'
+
+In a few more seconds Mr. Mohun had come out.  He took the cold,
+trembling hands in his own, pressed them close, met the anxious eyes
+with his own, full of moisture, and said, 'My poor little girl,' in a
+tone that somehow lightened Dolly's heart of its worst dread.
+
+'Will you go back into court?' asked the colonel.
+
+'You don't wish it, Dolly?' said her father.
+
+'Oh no! please not.'
+
+'Then,' said the colonel, 'take your father back to the room at the
+hotel, and we will come to you.  I suppose this will not last much
+longer.'
+
+'Probably not half an hour.  I don't want to see that fellow either
+convicted or acquitted.'
+
+Then Dolores found herself steered out of the passages and from among
+the people waiting or gazing, into the clearer space in the street, her
+father holding her hand as if she had been a little child.  Neither of
+them spoke till they had reached the sitting-room, and there, the first
+thing he did when the door was shut, was to sit down, take her between
+his knees, put an arm round her, and kiss her, saying again, 'My poor
+child!'
+
+'You never got my letter!' she said, leaning against him, feeling the
+peace and rest his embrace gave.
+
+'No; but I have heard all.  I should have warned you, Dolly; but I
+never imagined that he could get at you there; and I was unwilling to
+accuse one for whom your mother had a certain affection.'
+
+'That was why I helped him,' whispered Dolores.
+
+'I knew it,' he said kindly.  'But how did he find you out, and how had
+he the impertinence to write to you at your Aunt Lily's--'
+
+'I wrote to him first,' she said, hanging down her head.
+
+'How was that? You surely had not been in the habit of doing so whilst
+I was at home.'
+
+'No; but he came and spoke to me at Exeter, the day you went away.
+Uncle William was not there, he had gone into the town.  And he--Mr.
+Flinders, said he was going down to see you, and was very much
+disappointed to hear that you were gone.'
+
+'Did he ask you to write to him?'
+
+'I don't think he did.  Father, it seems too silly now, but I was very
+angry because Aunt Lilias said she must see all my letters except yours
+and Maude Sefton's, and I told Constance Hacket.  She said she would
+send anything for me, and I could not think of any one I wanted to
+write to, so I wrote to--to him.'
+
+'Ah! I saw you did not get on with your aunt,' was the answer, 'that
+was partly what brought me home.' And either not hearing or not heeding
+her exclamation, 'Oh, but now I do,' he went on to explain that on his
+arrival at Fiji he had found that circumstances had altered there, and
+that the person with whom he was to have been associated had died, so
+that the whole scheme had been broken up.  A still better appointment
+had, however, been offered to him in New Zealand, on the resignation of
+the present holder after a half-year's notice, and he had at once
+written to accept it.  A proposal had been made to him to spend the
+intermediate time in a scientific cruise among the Polynesian Islands;
+but the letters he had found awaiting him at Vanua Levu had convinced
+him that the arrangements he had made in England had been a mistake,
+and he had therefore hurried home via San Francisco, as fast as any
+letter could have gone, to wind up his English affairs, and fetch his
+daughter to the permanent home in Auckland, which her Aunt Phyllis
+would prepare for her.
+
+Her countenance betrayed a sudden dismay, which made him recollect that
+she was a strangely undemonstrative girl; but before she had recovered
+the shock so as to utter more than a long 'Oh!' they were interrupted
+by the cup of tea that had been ordered for Dolores, and in a minute
+more, steps were heard, and the two aunts were in the room.  'Seven
+years,' were Jane's first words, and 'My dear Maurice,' Lady
+Merrifield's, 'Oh! I wish I could have spared you this,' and then among
+greetings came again, 'Seven years,' from the brother and cousin who
+had seen the traveller before.
+
+'I'm glad you were not there, Maurice,' said Lady Merrifield.  'It was
+dreadful.'
+
+'I never saw a more insolent fellow!' said Lord Rotherwood.
+
+'That Yokes, you mean,' said Miss Mohun.  'I declare I think he is
+worse than Flinders!'
+
+'That's like you women, Jenny,' returned the colonel; 'you can't
+understand that a man's business is to get off his client!'
+
+'When he gave him up as an honest man altogether!' cried Lady
+Merrifield.
+
+'And cast such imputations!' exclaimed Aunt Jane.  'I saw what the
+wretch was driving at all the time of the cross-examination; and if I'd
+been the judge, would not I have stopped him?'
+
+'There you go.  Lily and Jenny!' said the colonel, 'and Rotherwood just
+as bad! Why, Maurice would have had to take just the same line if he
+had been for the defence.'
+
+'He would not have done it in such a blackguard fashion though,' said
+Lord Rotherwood.
+
+'I saw what his defence would be,' said Mr. Mohun, briefly.
+
+'There!' said Colonel Mohun, with a boyish pleasure in confuting his
+sisters; but they were not subdued.
+
+'Now Maurice,' cried Jane, 'when that man was known to be utterly
+dishonourable and good for nothing, was it fair--was it not contrary to
+all common sense--to try to cast the imputation between those two poor
+girls? So the judge and jury felt it, I am happy to say! but I call it
+abominable to have thrown out the mere suggestion--'
+
+'Nay now, Jane,' said the colonel, 'if the man was to be defended at
+all, how else was it to be done?'
+
+'I wouldn't have had him defended at all! but, unfortunately, that's
+his right as an Englishman.'
+
+'That's another thing! But as the cheque did not alter itself, one of
+the three must have done it, and nothing was left but to show that
+there had been an amount of shuffling, and--in short, nonsense--that
+might cast enough doubt on their evidence to make it insufficient for a
+conviction.'
+
+'Reginald! I can't think how you can stand up for such a wretch, a
+vulgar wretch,' cried Miss Mohun.  'You put it delicately, as a
+gentleman who had the misfortune to be counsel in such a case might do,
+but he was infinitely worse than that, though that was bad enough.'
+
+'It was Yokes,' put in Mr. Mohun; 'but what did he say?' looking
+anxiously at his daughter.
+
+'It was not so bad about her,' said her uncle, 'he only made her out a
+foolish child, easily played upon by everybody, and possibly ignorant
+and frightened, or led away by her regard for her supposed relation.
+It was the other poor girl--
+
+'The amiable susceptibilities of romantic young ladies!' broke out Lady
+Merrifield.  'Oh, the creature!'  To think of that poor foolish
+Constance sitting by to hear it represented that the expedition to
+Darminster, and all the rest of it, was because she was actually
+touched by that fellow.  I really felt ready to take her part.'
+
+'She had certainly brought it on herself,' said Aunt Jane; 'but it was
+atrocious of him and if the other counsel had only known it, he stopped
+the cross examination just at the wrong time, or it would have come out
+that it was literary vanity that was the lure.  No doubt he would have
+made a laughing-stock of that, but it would not have been as bad as the
+other.'
+
+'Poor thing,' said Lady Merrifield; 'it was a trying retribution for
+schoolgirl folly and want of conscientiousness.  I should think she was
+a sadder and a wiser woman.'
+
+'He must have overdone it,' said Mr. Mohun, 'he is a vulgar fellow, and
+always does so; but, as Reginald says, the only available defence was
+to enhance the folly and sentiment of the girls; but of course the
+judge charged the other way--
+
+'Entirely,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'he brought Dolly rather well out of
+it, saying that as he understood it, a young girl who had seen a needy
+connection assisted from her home might think herself justified in
+corresponding with him, and even in diverting to his use money left in
+her charge, when it was probable that it would not be required for the
+original object.  He did not say it was right, but it was an error of
+judgment by no means implying swindling--in fact.  He disposed of Miss
+Hacket in the same way--foolish, sentimental, unscrupulous, but not to
+that degree.  Girls might be silly enough in all conscience, but not so
+as to commit forgery or perjury.  That was the gist of it, and happily
+the jury were of the same opinion.'
+
+'Happily? Well, I suppose so,' said Mr. Mohun, with a certain
+sorrowfulness of tone, into which his little daughter entered.
+
+'I say, Rotherwood,' exclaimed the colonel, as the town clock's two
+strokes for the half-hour echoed loudly, 'if you mean to catch the
+4.50, you must fly.'
+
+'Fly!' he coolly repeated.  'Tell Mysie, Lily, that Fly has never
+ceased talking of her.  That child has been saving her money to fit out
+one of Florence's orphan's.  She--'
+
+'Rotherwood,' broke in Mr. Mohun, 'your wife charged me to see that you
+were in time for that dinner.  A ministerial one.'
+
+'Don't encourage him, Lily,' chimed in the colonel.  'I'll call a cab.
+See him safe off, Maurice.'
+
+And off he was hunted amid the laughter of the ladies; the manner of
+all to one another was so exactly what it had been in the old times.
+
+'I could hardly help telling him to take care, or Victoria would never
+let him out again,' said Miss Mohun.  'Poor old fellow, it would have
+been a fine chance for him with four of us together.'
+
+'You can come back with us, Jenny!'
+
+'I brought my bag in case of accidents.'
+
+'And we'll telegraph to Adeline to join us tomorrow,' said Mr. Mohun,
+who seemed to have been seized with a hunger for the sight of his
+kindred.
+
+'Telegraph!  My dear Maurice, Ada's nerves would be torn to smithereens
+by a telegram without me to open it for her.  I've a card here to post
+to her; but I expect that I must go down tomorrow and fetch her, which
+will be the best way, for I have a meeting.'
+
+'Jenny, I declare you are a caution even to Miss Hacket,' said Colonel
+Reginald, re-entering.
+
+'Well, Ada always was the family pet.  Besides, I told you I had a
+G.F.S. meeting.  Did you get a cab for us; Lily has had quite walking
+enough.'
+
+The ladies went in a cab, while the gentlemen walked.  There was not
+much time to spare, and in the compartment into which the first comers
+threw themselves, they found both the Hacket sisters installed, and the
+gentlemen coming up in haste, nodded and got into a smoking-carriage,
+on seeing how theirs was occupied.
+
+'Oh, we could have made room,' said Constance, to whom a gentleman was
+a gentleman under whatever circumstances.
+
+'Dear Miss Dolores's papa! Is it indeed?' said Miss Hacket.
+
+'So wonderfully interesting,' chimed in Constance.  And they both made
+a dart at Dolores to kiss her in congratulation, much against her will.
+
+The train clattered on, and Lady Merrifield hoped it would hush all
+other voices, but neither of the Hackets could refrain from discussing
+the trial, and heaping such unmitigated censure on the counsel for the
+prisoner, that Miss Mohun felt herself constrained to fly in the face
+of all she had said at the hotel, and to maintain the right of even
+such an Englishman to be defended, and of his advocate to prevent his
+conviction if possible.  On which the regular sentiment against
+becoming lawyers was produced, and the subject might have been dropped
+if Constance had not broken out again, as if she could not leave it.
+'So atrocious, so abominably insolent, asking if he was unmarried.'
+
+'Evidently flattered!' muttered Aunt Jane, between her teeth, and
+unheard; but the speed slackened, and Constance's voice went on,
+
+'I really thought I should have died of it on the spot.  The bare idea
+of thinking I could endure such a being.'
+
+'Well,' said Dolores, just as the clatter ceased at a little station.
+'You know you did walk up and down with him ever so long, and I am sure
+you liked him very much.'
+
+An indignant 'You don't understand' was absolutely cut off by an
+imperative grasp and hush from Miss Hacket the elder; Aunt Jane was
+suffocating with laughter, Lady Merrifield, between that and a certain
+shame for womanhood, which made her begin to talk at random about
+anything or everything else.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+NAY.
+
+
+
+'What a mull they have made of it!' were Mr. Maurice Mohun's first
+words when he found the compartment free for a tete-a-tete with his
+brother.
+
+'All's well that ends well,' was the brief reply.
+
+'Well, indeed! Mary would not have thought so.'  To which the colonel
+had nothing to say.
+
+'It serves me out,' his brother went on presently.  'I ought to have
+done something for that wretched fellow before I went, or, at any rate,
+have put Dolly on her guard; but I always shirked the very thought of
+him.'
+
+'Nothing would have kept him out of harm's way.'
+
+'It might have kept the child; but she must have been thicker with him
+than I ever knew.  However I shall have her with me for the future, and
+in better hands.'
+
+'You really mean to take her out?'
+
+'That's what brought me home.  She isn't happy; that is plain from her
+letters; and Jane does not know what to make of her, nor Lilias
+either.'
+
+'When were your last letters dated?'
+
+'The last week in September.'
+
+'Early days,' muttered the colonel.
+
+'I thought it an experiment, you know; but you said so much about
+Lily's girls being patterns, that I thought Jasper Merrifield might
+have made her more rational and less flighty, and all that sort of
+thing; but of course it was a very different tone from what the child
+was used to, and you couldn't tell what the young barbarians were out
+of sight.'
+
+'So I began to think last winter; but I fancy you will find that she
+and Lily understand one another a good deal better than they did at
+first.'
+
+'I thought she did not receive my intelligence as a deliverance.  I am
+glad if she can carry away an affectionate remembrance, but I want to
+have her under my own eye.'
+
+'I suppose that's all right,' was the half reluctant reply.
+
+'There's Phyllis.  She is full of good sense, with no nonsense about
+her or May, and her girls are downright charming.'
+
+'Very likely; but I say, Maurice, you must not underrate Lilias.  She
+has gone through a good deal with Dolores, and I believe she has been
+the making of her.  You've had to leave the poor child a good deal to
+herself and Fraulein, and, as you see by this affair, she had some ways
+that made it hard for Lily to deal with her at first.'
+
+Her father plainly did not like this.  'There was no harm in the poor
+child, but as I should have foreseen, there's always an atmosphere of
+sentiment and ritual and flummery about Lilias, totally different from
+what she was used to.'
+
+Colonel Mohun had nearly said, 'So much the better,' but turned it
+into, 'I think you will change your opinion.'
+
+Brothers and sisters, and cousins, whatever they may be to the external
+world, always remain relatively to each other pretty much as they knew
+one another when a single home held them all.  The familiar Christian
+names seemed to revive the old ways, and it was amusing to see the
+somewhat grave and silent colonel treated by his elder brother as the
+dashing, heedless boy, needing to be looked after, while his sister
+Jane remained the ready helper and counsellor, and Lady Merrifield was
+still in his eyes the unpractical, fanciful Lily with an unfortunately
+suggestive rhyme to her name.
+
+Perhaps it maintained him in this opinion, that when he had answered
+all questions about Captain and Mrs.  Harry May, and had dilated on
+their pretty house in the suburbs of Auckland, his sisters expected him
+to tell of the work of the Church among the Maoris and Fijians.  He
+laughed at them for thinking colonists troubled their heads about
+natives.
+
+'I know Phyllis does.  One of Harry May's brothers went out as a
+missionary.'
+
+'Disenchanted and came home again when his wife came into a fortune.'
+
+'Not a bit of it,' said Aunt Jane.  'I know him and all about him.  He
+stayed till his health broke, and now he is one of the most useful men
+in the country.  He is coming to speak for the S.P.G. at Rockquay,
+Lily; and you must come and meet him and his charming wife.  They will
+tell you a very different story about Harry's doings.'
+
+'Well,' allowed Mr. Mohun, 'there are apparitions of brown niggers done
+up as smart as twopence prancing about the house.  Perfectly
+uninteresting, you know, the savage sophisticated out of his
+picturesqueness.  I made a point of asking no questions, not knowing
+what I might be let in for.'
+
+'Then you heard nothing of Mr. Ward, the Melanesian missionary, whom
+Phyllis keeps a room for when he comes to New Zealand to recruit.'
+
+'The man who was convicted of murder on circumstantial evidence!  Oh
+yes.  I heard of him.  I believe the labour-traffic agents heartily
+wish him at Portland still, he makes the natives so much too sharp.'
+
+'Aye,' said the colonel, 'as long as Britons aren't slaves they have no
+objection to anything but the name for other people.'
+
+'Wait till you get out there, Regie, and see what they all say about
+those lazy fellows--except, of course, ladies and parsons, and a few
+whom they've bitten, like May.'
+
+'The few are on the Christian side, of course,' said Lady Merrifield,
+with irony in her tone.
+
+Indeed, she was not at all sure that half this colonial prejudice was
+not assumed in order to tease her, just as in former times her brother
+would make game of her enthusiasms about school children; for he was
+altogether returned to his old self, his sister Jane, who had seen the
+most of him, testifying that the original Maurice had revived, as never
+in the course of his married life.
+
+Dolores tried to forget or disbelieve the words she had heard about his
+having come to fetch her away, and said no word about them until they
+had been unmistakably repeated.  Then she felt a sort of despair at the
+idea of being separated from her aunt and Mysie, for indeed they had
+penetrated to affections deeper than had ever been consciously stirred
+in her before.  Yet she was old enough to shrink from allowing to her
+father that she preferred staying with them to going with him, and it
+was to her Aunt Jane that she had recourse.  That lady, after returning
+from her expedition to bring her sister Adeline to Silverton, was
+surprised by a timid knock at the door, and Dolores's entrance.
+
+'Oh, if you please, Aunt Jane, may I come in? I do so want to speak to
+you alone.  Don't you think it is a sad pity that I should go away from
+the Cambridge examination? Could not you tell my father so?'
+
+'You want to stay for the Cambridge examination,' said Aunt Jane, a
+little amused at the manner of touching on the subject, though sorry
+for the girl.
+
+'I have been taking great pains under Miss Vincent, and it does seem a
+pity to miss it.'
+
+'I don't think it will make much difference to you.'
+
+'Oh, but I do want to be thoroughly well educated.  I meant to go
+through them all, like Gillian and Mysie, and I am sure father must
+wish it too.  I know he meant it when he went out last year.'
+
+'Yes, he did,' said Miss Mohun.  'It was very unlucky that he did not
+get any of our later letters.'
+
+'I have tried to tell him that it is all different now, but he does not
+seem to care,' said Dolores.
+
+'He has quite made up his mind,' said her aunt.
+
+'Has he quite?' said Dolores.  'I thought perhaps if you talked to him
+about the examination and the confirmation too--'
+
+'But, Dolly, you are not going to a heathen country.  Your confirmation
+will be as much attended to in New Zealand as here.'
+
+'Oh, but I should be confirmed with Mysie, and Aunt Lily would read
+with me, and help me!'
+
+'Yes, I see.'
+
+'Do please tell him.  Aunt Jane.  He heeds what you say more than any
+one.  Do tell him that the only hope of my being good is if I stay with
+Aunt Lily just these few years!'
+
+'Ah, Dolly, that is what you really mean and care about--not the
+Cambridge business.'
+
+'Of course it is.  Please tell him, Aunt Jane--somehow I can't--that I
+was bad and foolish when I wrote all the letters he had; but now I know
+better, and--and--I don't want to vex him, but I shall be ever so much
+better a daughter to him if he will leave me with Aunt Lily, to learn
+some of her goodness'--and there were tears in her eyes, for these
+months had softened her greatly.
+
+'My poor Dolly!' said Aunt Jane, much more tenderly than she generally
+spoke.  'I am very sorry for you.  I do think Aunt Lily has been the
+making of you, and that it is very hard that you should have to be
+uprooted from her, just as you had learnt to value her, I will tell
+your father so; but honestly, I do not think it is likely to make him
+change his mind.'
+
+Miss Mohun sought her brother out the next day, and told him that they
+had all been waiting in patience when thinking that his daughter's
+residence at Silverton was an unsuccessful experiment.  The explosion
+she had predicted had come, and Dolores had been a different creature
+ever since, owing to Lady Merrifield's management of her in the crisis;
+and she added that the girl was most unwilling to leave her aunt, and
+that she herself thought it would be much better to leave her for a few
+years to the advantages of her present training, where her affections
+had been gained.  Mr.  Mohun could not see it in the same light.  The
+intimacy with Constance Hacket was in his eyes a folly, consequent on
+his sister's passion for Sunday schools and charities; and Jane, being
+infected with the like ardour, he disregarded her explanations.  The
+underhand correspondence could not have been carried on without great
+blindness and carelessness, or, at least, injudiciousness, on Lady
+Merrifield's part, and there was no denying that she had trusted to a
+sense of honour that was nonexistent.  Nor did he appreciate Jane's
+argument that the conquest of the heart and will had thus been far more
+thoroughly gained than it would have been by constant thwarting and
+watching.  It was hard to forgive such an exposure as had taken place,
+or to believe that it had not been brought about by unjustifiable
+errors, more especially as Lady Merrifield was the first to accuse
+herself of them.   Moreover, he had become sensible of a strong natural
+yearning for the presence of his only child, and he had been so much
+struck with his sister Phyllis's family that he sincerely believed
+himself consulting the girl's best interests.  He was by no means an
+irreligious or ungodly man, but he had always thought his sister Lilias
+more or less of an enthusiast, and he did not wish to see Dolores the
+same.  Perhaps, indeed, the poor child's manifest clinging to her aunt
+and cousins made him all the more resolute to remove her before her
+affection should be entirely weaned from himself.
+
+He made his headquarters at Silverton, and during the next two months
+modified his opinions so far as to confess to his sister Jane that
+Lilias was a much more sensible woman than he had believed her, and had
+her children well in hand.  He even allowed that Dolores was improved,
+and owed much to her kindness; and when the first sting of the exposure
+was over, he could see that the treatment had been far from injudicious
+as regarded the girl's own character.  He was even glad that warm love
+and friendship had grown up towards her aunt and cousins; but all this
+left his purpose unchanged; although, after the first, nothing was said
+about it, Dolores tried to forget it, and hoped that the sight of her
+going on well and peaceably would convince him of the inexpediency of
+disturbing her.  She could not even mention it to Mysie, lest the dread
+should become a reality by being uttered.  So no more passed on the
+subject till it became necessary to take her outfit in hand, and he
+also wished to take her to Beechcroft, that the old family home which
+he regarded with fresh tenderness might be impressed on her memory.
+
+Then, though she never durst directly oppose the fate which he destined
+for her, she surprised him by a violent burst of tears and sobbing, and
+an entreaty that he would not take her away from Aunt Lily and Mysie a
+moment sooner than could be helped.
+
+She clung to everything, even to the guinea-pigs, and she was the first
+in the Easter holidays to beg for the 'Thorn Fortress.' Indeed, Mysie
+was a little shocked at her grief, as disloyal and unfilial.  'One
+ought not to mind going anywhere with one's father,' she said; 'we all
+thought it a great honour for Phyllis and Alethea.'
+
+'They are grown up!' said Dolores, 'and Aunt Lily does get into one so!
+Oh, don't say there's Aunt Phyllis.  I hate the very name of her.'
+
+'She must be nice,' said Mysie, 'Whenever the 'grown-ups' are pleased
+with me they say I am getting like her, as if it was the best thing one
+could be.'
+
+'But I don't want Mysie old and grown up, I want my Mysie now, as you
+are!--And you'll forget and leave off writing, like Maude Sefton.'
+
+'Never!' cried Mysie.  'Eight across the world you will always be my
+own twin cousin.'
+
+The wishes of the girl were so far fulfilled that Lady Merrifield took
+her to London to provide her outfit, and Mysie accompanied them.  A
+room and its dressing-room received the three at old Mrs.
+Merrifield's, and the two cousins thought their close quarters
+ineffably precious.
+
+Mysie was introduced to Maude Sefton, who seemed entirely unconscious
+of her treachery to friendship.  'One had so little time, and couldn't
+always be writing,' she said, when Dolores reproached her; 'exercises
+were enough to tire out one's hand!'
+
+They also drank tea with Lady Phyllis Devereux and her governess.  Fly
+could not pour forth questions and reminiscences fast enough about all
+the beloved animals at Silverton, not forgetting the little G.F.S.
+nursemaid, for whom she had actually made an apron in her plain-work
+lessons.  Moreover, she deemed Dolores's fate most enviable, to be
+going off with her father to strange countries, away from lessons, and
+masters, and towns.  It would be almost as good as Leila on the island.
+
+As to the Beechcroft visit, Mr. and Mrs. Mohun collected all the
+brothers and sisters in England there for a week, and still Mysie and
+Dolores were allowed to be together, squeezed into a corner of Lady
+Merrifield's room.  It was high summer, bright and glowing, and so dry,
+and even the invalidish sisters, Lady Henry Gray and Miss Adeline Mohun
+could not object to the sitting out on the lawn, among the dragon-
+flies, as in days of yore.
+
+Much of old thought and feeling was then and there taken up again, and
+it was on one of the last evenings of the visit that Mr. Mohun, walking
+up and down the alley with Lady Merrifield, said--
+
+'Well, Lily, I think my determination to take Dolly away was hasty.  I
+cannot leave her now, but if I had understood all that I see at
+present, I should have been both content and grateful to have her among
+your children.  I am afraid I have been ungracious.'
+
+'I never thought so, Maurice.  It is quite right that she should be
+with you, and Phyllis will do every-thing for her much better than I.'
+
+'Poor child! I believe she is very sorry to go,' said Mr. Mohun; 'but,
+at any rate, she will remember Silverton as, I hope, a lasting
+influence on her life.'
+
+Dolores truly believed that so it would be, and that her aunt's
+guidance would be always looked back upon as the turning-point of her
+life.
+
+'It is my own fault,' she said, as on the last night she clung
+tearfully to Lady Merrifield; 'if I had behaved better I might have
+gone on just like one of your own.'
+
+'You will still be in my heart like one of my own, dear child,' said
+Lady Merrifield.  'We know the way in which we all can hold together as
+one; keep to that, and the distance apart will matter the less.'
+
+And as they watched Dolores and her father driven away to the station
+the next morning, Jane Mohun laid her hand on her sister's arm and
+said, 'You thought you had made a great failure.  Lily, but is not the
+other side of a failure often a success?'
+
+By-and-by came letters from Dolores.  She seemed after the first to
+have enjoyed her journey, for, as she wrote to Lady Merrifield, in a
+letter, very private, and all to her own self, 'Father was so very good
+and kind to me, I don't know how to tell you.  It was as if a little
+bit of mother had got into him, and now I am here I think I shall like
+the Mays.  Indeed, I am trying to remember your advice, and not
+beginning by hating everybody and thinking who they are not.  Aunt
+Phyllis is very nice indeed, and sometimes her eyes and mouth get like
+Mysie's, and her voice is just exactly yours.   Only she is plump and
+roundabout, not a dear, tall, graceful figure like my White Lily Aunt.
+Please don't call it nonsense, for indeed I mean it, and Aunt Phyllis
+does like your photograph so much.  I have the whole group hung up in
+my room, and you over it, and I wish you all good morning every day,
+for I never, never, as long as I live, shall love anybody like you and
+Mysie.'
+
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD ***
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+Title: The Two Sides of the Shield
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+Author: Charlotte M. Yonge
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD ***
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+</pre>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD<br>
+BY<br>
+CHARLOTTE M YONGE</h1>
+
+<h3>PREFACE</h3>
+
+<p>It is sometimes treated as an impertinence to revive the personages of one
+story in another, even though it is after the example of Shakespeare, who
+revived Falstaff, after his death, at the behest of Queen Elizabeth. This
+precedent is, however, a true impertinence in calling on the very great to
+justify the very small!</p>
+
+<p>Yet many a letter in youthful handwriting has begged for further information
+on the fate of the beings that had become favourites of the school-room; and
+this has induced me to believe that the following out of my own notions as to
+the careers of former heroes and heroines might not be unwelcome; while I have
+tried to make the story stand independently for new readers, unacquainted with
+the tale in which Lady Merrifield and her brothers and sisters first appeared.</p>
+
+<p>'Scenes and Characters' was, however, published so long ago, that the young
+readers of this generation certainly will only know it if it has had the good
+fortune to have been preserved by their mothers. It was only my second book, and
+in looking back at it so as to preserve consistency, I have been astonished at
+its crudeness.</p>
+
+<p>It will explain a few illusions to state that it is the story of the
+motherless family of Mohuns of Beechcroft, with a kindly deaf father at the
+head, Mr. Mohun, whose pet name was the Baron of Beechcroft, owing to a romantic
+notion of his daughters made fun of by his sons. The eldest sister, a stiff,
+sensible, dry woman, had just married and gone to India, leaving her post to the
+next in age, Emily, who was much too indolent for the charge. Lilies, the third
+in age, with her head full of the kind of high romance and sentiment more
+prevalent thirty or forty years ago than now, imagined that whereas the
+household had formerly been ruled by duty, it now might be so by love. Of
+course, confusion dire was the consequence, chiefly with the younger boys, the
+scientific, cross-grained Maurice, and the high-spirited, turbulent Reginald,
+all the mischief being fomented by Jane's pertness and curiosity, and only
+mitigated by the honest simplicity and dutifulness of eight years old Phyllis.
+The remedy was found at last in the marriage of the eldest son William with
+Alethea Weston, already Lilias's favourite friend and model.</p>
+
+<p>That in a youthful composition there should be a cavalier ancestry, a family
+much given to dying of consumption, and a young marquess cousin is, perhaps,
+inevitable. Lord Rotherwood was Mr. Mohun's ward, and having a dull home of his
+own, found his chief happiness as well as all the best influences of his life,
+in the merry, highly-principled, though easy-going life at his uncle's, whom he
+revered like a father, while his eager, somewhat shatter-brained nature often
+made him a butt to his cousins. All this may account for the tone of camaraderie
+with which the scattered members of the family meet again, especially around
+Lilias, who had, with her cleverness and enthusiasm, always been the leading
+member of the group.</p>
+
+<p>It should, perhaps, also be mentioned that Lord Rotherwood's greatest friend
+was also Lilias's favourite brother, Claude, who had become a clergyman and died
+early. Aunt Adeline had been the spoilt child and beauty of the family, the
+youngest of all.</p>
+
+<p><b>C. M. YONGE.</b></p>
+<p><b>March 8th, 1885.</b></p>
+
+
+<h3>CONTENTS</h3>
+
+<p>CHAPTER I. WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?<br>
+CHAPTER II. THE MERRIFIELDS<br>
+CHAPTER III. GOOD BYE<br>
+CHAPTER IV. TURNED IN AMONG THEM<br>
+CHAPTER V. THE FIRST WALK<br>
+CHAPTER VI. PERSECUTION<br>
+CHAPTER VII. G.F.S.<br>
+CHAPTER VIII. MY PERSECUTED UNCLE<br>
+CHAPTER IX. LETTERS<br>
+CHAPTER X. THE EVENING STAR<br>
+CHAPTER XI. SECRET EXPEDITIONS<br>
+CHAPTER XII. A HUNT<br>
+CHAPTER XIII. AN EGYPTIAN SPHINX<br>
+CHAPTER XIV. A CYPHER AND A TY<br>
+CHAPTER XV. THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL<br>
+CHAPTER XVI. THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE<br>
+CHAPTER XVII. THE STONE MELTING<br>
+CHAPTER XVIII. MYSIE AND DOLORES<br>
+CHAPTER XIX. A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS<br>
+CHAPTER XX. CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE<br>
+CHAPTER XXI. IN COURT AND OUT<br>
+CHAPTER XXII. NAY</p>
+
+<h1>THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD</h1>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I<br>
+WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?</h3>
+
+<p>A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which showed a table of small
+dimensions, with a vase of somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses in the centre,
+and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentleman had helped himself and a
+young girl of about thirteen, without much apparent consciousness of what he was
+about, being absorbed in a pile of papers, pamphlets, and letters, while she on
+her side kept a book pinned open by a gravy spoon. The elderly maid-servant, who
+set the dishes before them, handed the vegetables and changed the plates, really
+came as near to feeding the pair as was possible with people above three years
+old.</p>
+
+<p>The one was a dark, thin man, with a good deal of white in his thick beard
+and scanty hair, the absence of which made the breadth of his forehead the more
+remarkable. The girl would have shown an equally remarkable brow, but that her
+dark hair was cut square over it, so as to take off from its height, and give a
+heavy over-hanging look to the upper part of the face, which below was tin and
+sallow, well-featured, but with a want of glow and colour. The thick masses of
+dark hair were plaited into a very long thick tail behind, hanging down over a
+black evening frock, whose white trimmings were, like everything else about the
+place, rather dingy. She was far less absorbed than her father, and raised a
+quick, wistful brown eye whenever he made the least sound, or shuffled his
+papers. Indeed, it seemed that she was reading in order to distract her anxiety
+rather than for the sake of occupation.</p>
+<p>It was not till after the last pieces of cheese had been offered and refused,
+and the maid had retired, leaving some dull crackers and veteran biscuits, with
+two decanters and a claret-jug, that he spoke.</p>
+<p>'Dolores!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, father.'</p>
+<p>But he only cleared his throat, and looked at his letter again, while she
+fixed her eager eyes upon him so earnestly that he let his fall again, and
+looked once more over his letters before he spoke again.</p>
+<p>'Dolores,' and the tone was dry, as if all feeling were driven from it.</p>
+<p>'Yes, father.'</p>
+<p>'You know that I have accepted this appointment?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, father.'</p>
+<p>'And that I shall be absent three years at the least?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'Then comes the question, how you are to be disposed of in the meantime?'</p>
+<p>'Could not I go with you?' she said, under her breath.</p>
+<p>'No, my dear.' And somehow the tone had more tenderness in it, though it was
+so explicit. 'I shall have no fixed residence, no one with whom to leave you;
+and the climate is not fit for you. Your Aunt Lilias has kindly offered to take
+charge of you.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, father!'</p>
+<p>'Well?'</p>
+<p>'If you would only let me stay here with Caroline and Fraulein. I like it so
+much better.'</p>
+<p>'That cannot be, Dolly. I have this morning promised to let the house as it
+is to Mr. Smithson.'</p>
+<p>'And Caroline?'</p>
+<p>'If Caroline takes my advice, she will remain here as his housekeeper, and I
+think she will. Well, what is it? You do not mean that you would prefer going to
+your Aunts Jane and Ada?'</p>
+<p>'Oh no, no; only if I might go to school.'</p>
+<p>'This is nonsense, Dolores. It will be much better for you on all accounts to
+be with your aunt at Silverfold. I have no fear that she and her girls will not
+do their best to make you happy and good, and to give you what you have sadly
+wanted, my poor child. I have always wished you could have seen more of her.'</p>
+<p>There could be no doubt from the tone, in the mind of any one who knew Mr.
+Maurine Mohun, that the decision was final; but perhaps Dolores would have asked
+more if the door-bell had not rung at the moment and Mr. Smithson had not been
+announced. Fate was closing in on her. She retired into her book, and remained
+as long as she possibly could, for the sake of seeing her father and hearing his
+voice; but after a time she was desired to call Caroline, and to go to bed
+herself, for it was a good deal past nine o'clock.</p>
+<p>She had been aware, she could hardly tell how, that her father had been
+offered a government appointment connected with the Fiji Islands, and then that,
+glad to escape from the dreariness which had settled down on the house since his
+wife's death, about eighteen months previously, he had accepted it, and she had
+speculated much on her probable fate; but had never before been officially
+informed of his designs for himself or for her.</p>
+<p>He was a barrister, who spent all his leisure time on scientific studies, and
+his wife had been equally devoted to the same pursuits. Dolores had been her
+constant companion; but after the mother's death, from an accident on a glacier,
+a strange barrier of throwing himself into the ways of a girl past the charms of
+infancy. It was as if they had lost their interpreter.</p>
+<p>The German governess, chosen by Mrs. Mohun, was very German indeed, and
+greatly occupied in her own studies. When she found that the armes-liebes
+Madchen shrank from being wept over and caressed on the mournful return, she
+decided that the English had no feeling, and acquiesced in the routine of
+lessons and expeditions to classes. She was never unkind, but she did not try to
+be a companion; and old Caroline was excellent in the attention she paid to the
+comforts of her master and his daughter, but had no love of children, and would
+not have encouraged familiarities, even if Dolores had not been too entirely a
+drawing-room child to offer them.</p>
+<p>The morning came, and everything went on as usual; Dolores poured out the
+coffee, Mr. Mohun read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but afterwards he asked
+for a few minutes' conversation with Fraulein. All that Dolores heard of the
+result of it was 'So,' and then lessons went on until twelve o'clock, when it
+was the custom that the girl should have an hour's recreation, which was, in any
+tolerable weather, spent in the gardens of the far west Crescent, where she
+lived. There she was nearly certain of meeting her one great friend, Maude
+Sefton, who was always sent out for her airing at the same time.</p>
+<p>They spied each other issuing from their doors, met, linked their arms, and
+entered together. Maude was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow bush down her
+back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great deal bigger.</p>
+<p>'My dearest Doll!'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, it is come.'</p>
+<p>'Then he is really going? I heard the pater and mater talking about it
+yesterday, and they said it would be an excellent thing for him.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Maude! Then they did not say anything about what we hoped?'</p>
+<p>'What, the mater's offering for you to come and live with us, darling? Oh no;
+and I's afraid it is of no use to ask her, for she said of herself, that she
+knew Mr. Mohun had sisters, and--'</p>
+<p>'And what? Tell me, Maude. You must!'</p>
+<p>'Well, then, you know you made me, and I think it is a shame. She said she
+was glad she wasn't one of them, for you were such a peculiar child.'</p>
+<p>'Dear me, Maude, you needn't mind telling me that! I'm sure I don't want to
+be like everybody else.'</p>
+<p>'And are you going to one of your aunts?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, to Aunt Lilias. Oh, Maude, he would not hear a word against it, and I
+know it will be so horrid! Aunts are always nasty!'</p>
+<p>'Kate is very fond of her aunt,' said Maude, who did not happen to have any
+personal experiences to oppose to this sweeping assertion.</p>
+<p>'Oh, I don't mean proper aunts, but aunts that have orphans left to them.'</p>
+<p>'But you are not an orphan, darling.'</p>
+<p>'I dare say I shall be. 'Tis a horrible climate, and there are no end of
+cannibals there, so that he would not take me out for anything,--and sharks, and
+volcanoes, and hurricanes.'</p>
+<p>'I don't think they eat people there now.'</p>
+<p>'It's bad enough if they don't! And you know those aunts begin pretty well,
+while they are in fear of the father, but then they get worse.'</p>
+<p>'There was Ada Morton,' said Maude, in a tone of conviction, 'and Anna Ross.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, and another book, 'Rose Turquand.' It was a grown-up book, that I
+read once--long ago,' said Dolores, who had in her mother's time been allowed a
+pretty free range of 'book-box.'</p>
+<p>&quot;And there's 'Under the Shield,' but that was a boy.&quot;</p>
+<p>'There are lots and lots,' said Dolores. 'They are ever so much worse than
+the stepmothers! Not that there is any fear of that!' she added quickly.</p>
+<p>'But isn't this Aunt Lilias nice? It's a pretty name. Which is she? You have
+one aunt a Lady Something, haven't you?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, it is this one, Lady Merrifield. Her husband is a general, Sir Jasper
+Merrifield, and he is gone out to command in some place in India; but she cannot
+stand the climate, and is living at home at a place called Silverfold, with a
+whole lot of children. I think two are gone out with their father, but there are
+a great many more.'</p>
+<p>'Don't you know them at all?'</p>
+<p>'No, and don't want to! I think my aunts were unkind to mother!'</p>
+<p>'Oh!' exclaimed Maude.</p>
+<p>'I am sure of it. They were horrid, stuck-up, fine ladies, and looked down on
+her, though she was ever so much nicer, and cleverer, and more intellectual than
+they; and she looked down on them.'</p>
+<p>'Are you sure?' asked Maude, to whom it was as good as a story.</p>
+<p>'Yes, indeed. She was civil, of course, because they were father's sisters,
+but I know she couldn't bear them. If any of them came to London, there was a
+calling, but all very stupid, and a dining at Lord Rotherwood's; but she never
+would, except once, when I can hardly remember, go to stay at their slow places
+in the country. I've heard father try to persuade her when they didn't think I
+understood. You know we always went abroad, or to the sea or something, except
+last year, when we were at Beechcroft. That wasn't so bad, for there were lots
+of books, and Uncle Reginald was there, and he is jolly.'</p>
+<p>'Can't you get Mr. Mohun to send you there?'</p>
+<p>'No, I don't think they would have me, for every body there is grown up, and
+father seems to have a wish for me to be with this Aunt Lilias, because she has
+a schoolroom.'</p>
+<p>'I wonder he should wish it, if she was unkind to Mrs. Mohun.'</p>
+<p>'Well, she was out of the way most of the time. They have lived at Malta and
+Gibraltar, and Belfast, and all sorts of places, so they will all have regular
+garrison frivolous manner, and think of nothing but officers and balls. I know
+she was a beauty, and wants to be one still.'</p>
+<p>'Maude, whose father was a professor, looked quite appalled and said--</p>
+<p>'You will be the one to infuse better things.' She felt quite proud of the
+word.</p>
+<p>'Perhaps,' returned Dolores; 'they always do that in time, but not till
+they've been awfully bullied. All the cousins are jealous, and the aunt spites
+them because they are nicer and prettier than her own.'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Maude, 'but then there's always some tremendously nice
+boy-cousin, or uncle, or something, that makes up for it all. Will Sir Jasper
+Merrifield's eldest son be a Sir?'</p>
+<p>'Oh no; he's not a baronet, but a G.C.B., Knight Grand Cross of the Bath,
+that is. Besides, I don't care for love, and titles, and all that nonsense,
+though father is first cousin to Lord Rotherwood.'</p>
+<p>'And you never saw any of them?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Aunt Lilias was at the Charing Cross Hotel with Uncle Jasper and the
+two eldest daughters, Alethea and Phyllis, and some more of them, just before
+they sailed; and father took me there on Sunday to luncheon; but there were so
+many people, and such a talk, and such a bustle, that I hardly knew which was
+which. Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada were a talking that it made my head turn round;
+but I saw how affected Aunt Lilias is, and I knew that whenever they looked at
+me they said 'poor child,' and I always hate any one who does that! All I was
+afraid of then was that father would let Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada come and live
+with us; but this is ever so much worse.'</p>
+<p>'You have such a lot of aunts and uncles!' said Maude, 'and I have not got
+anything but one old uncle.'</p>
+<p>'Uncles are all very well,' said Dolores, said Maude. 'There are the two Miss
+Mohuns--'</p>
+<p>'Oh, that's beginning at the wrong end. Aunt Ada is the youngest of them all,
+and she thinks she is a young lady still, and wears little curls on her
+forehead, and a tennis pinafore, and makes her waist just like a wasp. She and
+Aunt Jane live together at Rockquay, because she has bad health--at least she
+has whenever she likes; and Aunt Jane does all sorts of charities and worries,
+and sets everybody to rights,' said Dolly, in a very grown-up voice, speaking
+partly from her own observation, and partly repeating what she had caught from
+her elders.</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, I know her,' said Maude. 'She asked me questions about all I did,
+and she did bother mamma so about a maid she recommended that we are never going
+to take another from her.'</p>
+<p>'Aunt Phyllis comes between them, I believe; but she has married a sailor
+captain and gone to settle in New Zealand, and I have not seen her since I was a
+very little girl. Then there's Aunt Emily, who is a very great swell indeed. Her
+husband was a canon, Lord Henry Grey; but he is dead, and she lives at Brighton,
+a regular fat, comfortable down-pillow of a woman, who isn't bad to lunch with,
+only she sends one out to the Parade with her maid, as if one was a baby. Mother
+used to laugh at her. And I think there was an older one who went to India and
+died long ago.'</p>
+<p>'I have seen your two uncles. There's Major Mohun. Oh! he is fun!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, dear old Uncle Regie! I wish he was not in Ireland. He will be so sorry
+to miss seeing father off, but he can't get leave. And there was a clergyman who
+is dead, and father grieved for very much. I think he did something to make them
+all nicer to mother, for it was just after that we went to stay at Beechcroft
+with Uncle William. You know him, and how mother used to call him the very model
+of a country squire; and I like his wife, Aunt Alethea. Only it is very pokey
+and slow down there, and they are always after flannel petticoats and soup
+kitchens, and all the old fads that are exploded. I should get awfully tired of
+it before a year was out, only I should not be teased with strange children, and
+there would be no one to be jealous of me.'</p>
+<p>'Can't you get your father to change and send you there?'</p>
+<p>'Not a chance. You see Aunt Lilias had offered, and they haven't, and I must
+go on with my education. I hope, though I shall have no advantages, I shall
+still be able to go up for the Cambridge examination, if Aunt Lilias has not
+prejudices, as I dare say she has, since of course none of her own will be able
+to try.'</p>
+<p>'You'll come up to us for the examination, Dolly dear, and we shall do it
+together, and that will be nice!'</p>
+<p>'If they will let me; but I don't expect to be allowed to do anything that I
+wish. Only perhaps father may be come home by that time.'</p>
+<p>'Is it three years?'</p>
+<p>'Yes. It is a terrible time, isn't it? However, when I'm seventeen perhaps he
+will talk to me, and I can really keep house.'</p>
+<p>'And then you'll come back here?'</p>
+<p>'Do you know, Maudie--listen--I've another uncle, belonging to mother.</p>
+<p>'Oh, Dolly! I thought she had no one!'</p>
+<p>'He told me he was my Uncle Alfred once when he met me in the park with
+Fraulein, and gave me a note for mother. He is called Mr. Flinders.'</p>
+<p>'But I thought your mother was daughter to Professor Hay?'</p>
+<p>'But this is a half-brother; my grandmother was married before. Uncle Alfrey
+has an immense light beard, and I think he is very poor. He came once or twice
+to see mother, and they always sent me out of the room; but I am sure she gave
+him money--not father's housekeeping money, but what she got for herself by
+writing. Once I heard father go out of the house, saying, 'Well, it's your own
+to do as you please with.' And then mother went to her room, and I know she
+cried. It was the only time that ever mother cried!' And as Maude listened, much
+impressed--'Once when she had got eleven pounds, and we were going to have
+bought father such a binocular for a secret as a birthday present, Mr. Flinders
+came, and she gave him ten of it, and we could only buy just a few slides for
+father. And she told me she was grieved, but she could not help it, and it would
+be time for me to understand when I was older.'</p>
+<p>'I don't think this Uncle Alfrey can be nice,' said Maude.</p>
+<p>''Tis quite disgusting if he kisses me,' said Dolly; 'but you see he is poor,
+and all the Mohuns are stuck up, except father, and they wanted mother to
+despise him, and not help him. And you see, she stuck to him. I don't like him
+much; but you see nobody ever was like her! Oh, Maude, if she wasn't dead!'</p>
+<p>And poor Dolores cried as she had not done even at the time of the accident,
+or in the terrible week that followed, or at the desolate home coming.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II<br>
+THE MERRIFIELDS.</h3>
+<p>The cool twilight of a long sunny summer's day was freshening the pleasant
+garden of a country house, and three people were walking slowly along a garden
+path enjoying the contrast with the heat, glare, and noise of the day. The
+central one was a tall, slender lady, with a light shawl hung round her
+shoulders. On one side was a youth who had begun to overtop her, on the other a
+girl of shorter and sturdier mould, who only reached up to her shoulder.</p>
+<p>'So she is coming!' the girl said.</p>
+<p>'Yes, Uncle Maurice has answered my letter very kindly.'</p>
+<p>'I should think he would be very much obliged,' observed the boy.</p>
+<p>'Please, mamma, do tell us all about it,' said the girl. 'You know I stopped
+directly when you made me a sign not to go on asking questions before the little
+ones. And you said you should have to make us your friends while papa and the
+grown-ups are away.'</p>
+<p>'Well, Gillian, I know you can be discreet when you are warned, and perhaps
+it is best that you should know how things stand. Do you remember anything about
+it, Hal?'</p>
+<p>'Only a general perception that there were tempests in the higher regions,
+but I think that was more from hearing Alley and Phyl talk than from my native
+sagacity.'</p>
+<p>'So I should suppose, since you were only six years old, at the utmost.'</p>
+<p>'But Uncle Maurice always was under a cloud, wasn't he, especially at
+Beechcroft, where I never saw him or his wife in the holidays except once, when
+I believe she was not at all liked, and was thought to be very proud, and
+stuck-up, and pretentious.'</p>
+<p>'But was she just nobody? not a lady?' cried Gillian. 'Aunt Emily always
+called her, '&quot;Poor thing.&quot;'</p>
+<p>'Perhaps she did the same by Aunt Emily,' returned Hal.</p>
+<p>'And I am sure I have heard Aunt Ada say that she wasn't a lady; and Aunt
+Jane that she had all sorts of discreditable connections.'</p>
+<p>'Come now, Gill, if you chatter so, how is mamma to get a word in between?'</p>
+<p>'I'm afraid we have all been hard on her, poor thing!'</p>
+<p>'There now, mamma has done it, just like Aunt Emily!'</p>
+<p>'Anybody would be poor who got killed in a glacier!'</p>
+<p>'No, but one doesn't say poor when people are--nice.'</p>
+<p>'When I said poor,' now put in Lady Merrifield, 'it was not so much that I
+was thinking of her death as of her having come into a family where nobody
+welcomed her, and I really do not suppose it was her fault.'</p>
+<p>'Moreover, she seemed to do very well without a welcome,' added Hal.</p>
+<p>'Who is interrupting now?' cried Gillian, 'but was she a lady?'</p>
+<p>'I never saw her, you know,' said the mother; 'but from all I ever heard of
+her, I should think she was, and cleverer and more highly educated than any of
+us.'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Hal, 'that was the kind of pretension that exasperated them all
+at Beechcroft, especially Uncle William.'</p>
+<p>'I wonder if Dolores will have it!' said Gillian. 'I suppose she will know
+much more than we do.'</p>
+<p>'Probably, being the only child of such parents, and with every advantage
+London can give. Maurice was always much the cleverest of us all, and with a
+very strong mechanical and scientific turn, so that I now think it might have
+been better to have let him follow his bent. But when we were young there was a
+good deal of mistrust of anything outside the beaten tracks of gentlemanlike
+professions, and my dear old father did not like what he heard of the course of
+study for those lines. Things were not as they are now. So Maurice went to
+Cambridge, and was fifth wrangler of his year, and then had to go to the bar. It
+somehow always gave him a thwarted, injured feeling of working against the
+grain, and he cultivated all these scientific pursuits to the utmost, getting
+more and more into opinions and society that distressed grandpapa and Uncle
+William. So he fell in with Mr. Hay, a professor at a German university. I can
+hear William's tone of utter contempt and disgust. I believe this poor man was
+exceedingly learned, and had made some remarkable discoveries, but he was very
+poor, and lived in lodgings at Bonn with his daughter in the small way people
+are content to do in Germany. As to his opinions, we all took it for granted
+that he was a freethinker; but I can't tell how that might be. Maurice lodged in
+the same house one year when he went to learn German and attend lectures, and he
+went back again every long vacation. At last came your dear grandfather's death.
+Maurice hurried away from Beechcroft immediately after the funeral, and the next
+thing that was heard of him was that he had married Miss Hay. It was no wonder
+that your Uncle William was bitterly hurt and offended at the apparent
+disrespect to our father, and would make no move towards Maurice.'</p>
+<p>'It was when we were at the Cape, wasn't it?' asked Hal.</p>
+<p>'Yes, the year Gillian was born. Well, your dear Uncle Claude went to see
+Maurice in London, and found there was much excuse. Maurice had learnt that the
+old professor was dying, and his daughter had nothing, and would have had to be
+a governess, so that Maurice had married her in haste in order to be able to
+help them.'</p>
+<p>'Then it really was very kind and noble in him!' exclaimed Gillian.</p>
+<p>'And I believe every one would have felt it so; but for his unfortunately
+reserved way of concealing the extent of the acquaintance, and showing that he
+would not be interfered with. Claude did his best to close the breach, but there
+had been something to forgive on both sides, and perhaps SHE was prouder than
+the Mohuns themselves. Oh! my dears, I hope you will never have a family quarrel
+among you! It is so sad to look back upon a change after the happy years when we
+were all together, and were laughing and making fun of one another!'</p>
+<p>'But you were quite out of it, mamma.'</p>
+<p>'So I was in a way, but I knew nothing of the justification till too late for
+any advances from us to take much effect. I am four years older than Maurice, we
+had never been a pair, and had never corresponded. And when I wrote to him and
+to his wife, I only received stiff, formal answers. They were abroad when we
+were in London on coming home, and they would not come to see us at Belfast, so
+that I could never make acquaintance with her; but I believe she was an
+excellent wife, suiting him admirably in every way, and I expect to find this
+little daughter of theirs very well brought up, and much forwarder than honest
+old Mysie.'</p>
+<p>'Mysie is in perfect raptures at the notion of having a cousin here exactly
+of her own age,' said Gillian. 'What she would wish is that the two should be so
+much alike as to be taken for twins. I have been trying to remember Dolores on
+that dreadful Sunday at the hotel, when Uncle Maurice came to see us, just when
+papa was setting off for Bombay, but it all seems confusion. I can think of
+nothing but a little black, shy figure. I remember Phyllis telling me that she
+thought I ought to do something to entertain her, but I could not think of a
+word to say to her.'</p>
+<p>'For which perhaps she was thankful,' said her brother.</p>
+<p>'I am not sure. You are all too apt, when you are shy, to console yourself
+with fancying that you are doing as you would be done by. It might have worried
+her then perhaps, but it would have made it easier for her to begin among us
+now! I am very glad her father consents to my having her! I do hope we may make
+her happy.'</p>
+<p>'Happy!' said Gillian. 'Anybody must be happy with such a number to play
+with, and with you to mother her, mamma.'</p>
+<p>'I am afraid she will not feel me much like her own mother, poor child! But
+it will not be for want of the will. When I look back now I feel sorry for
+myself for the early loss of my mother, for though we were all merry enough as
+children and young people, there always seems to have been a lack of something
+fostering and repressing. There was a kind of desolateness in our life, though
+we did not understand it at the time. I am thankful you have not known it, my
+dears.' There was a strange rush of tears nearly choking her voice, and she
+shook them away with a sort of laugh. 'That I should cry for that at this time
+of day!'</p>
+<p>Gillian raised her face for a kiss, and even Harry did the same. Their hearts
+were very full, as the perception swept over them in one flash what their lives
+would have been without mamma. It seemed like the solid earth giving way under
+their feet!</p>
+<p>'I am very sorry for poor Dolores,' said Gillian presently. 'It seems as if
+we could never be kind enough to her.'</p>
+<p>'Yes. Indeed I hope we may do something towards supplying her with a real
+home, wandering sprites as we have been,' said Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'What a name it is! Dolores! It is as bad as Peter Grievous! How did she get
+it?' grumbled Harry.</p>
+<p>'That I cannot tell, but I think we must call her Dora or Dolly, as I fancy
+your Aunt Jane told me she was called at home. I hope Wilfred will not get hold
+of it and tease her about it. You must defend her from that.'</p>
+<p>'If we can,' said Gillian; 'but Wilfred is rather an imp.'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Harry. 'I found Primrose reduced to the verge of distraction
+yesterday because 'Willie would call her Leg of Mutton.''</p>
+<p>'I hope you boxed his ears!' cried Gillian.</p>
+<p>'I did give it to him well,' said Hal, laughing.</p>
+<p>'Thank you,' said his mother. 'A big brother is more effective in such cases
+than any one else can be. Wilfred is the only one of you all who ever seemed to
+take pleasure in causing pain--and I hardly know how to meet the propensity.'</p>
+<p>'He is the only one who is not quite certain to be nice with Dolores,' said
+Gillian.</p>
+<p>'And I really don't quite see how to manage,' said the mother. 'If we show
+him our anxiety to shield her, it is very likely to direct his attention that
+way.'</p>
+<p>'She must take her chance,' said Hal, 'and if she is any way rational, she
+can soon put a stop to it.'</p>
+<p>'But, oh dear! I wish he could go to school,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'So do I, my dear,' returned her mother; 'but you know the doctors say we
+must not risk it for another year, and I can only hope that as he grows
+stronger, he may become more manly. Meantime we must be patient with him, and
+Hal can help more than any one else. There--what's that striking?'</p>
+<p>'Three quarters.'</p>
+<p>'Then we must make haste in, or we shall not have finished supper before
+ten.'</p>
+<p>Lilias Mohun had married a soldier, and after many wanderings through
+military stations, the health and education of a large proportion of her family
+had necessitated her remaining at home with them, while her husband held a
+command in India, taking out with him the two grown-up daughters and the second
+son, who was on his staff. She was established in a large house not far from a
+country town, for the convenience of daily governess, tutor, and masters. She
+herself had grown up on the old system which made education depend more on the
+family than on the governess, and she preferred honestly the company and
+training of her children to going into society in her husband's absence.
+Therefore she arranged her habits with a view to being constantly with them, and
+though exchanging calls, and occasionally accepting invitations in the
+neighbourhood, it was an understood thing that she went out very little. The
+chief exceptions were when her eldest son, Harry, was at home from Oxford. He
+was devotedly fond of her, and all the more pleased and proud to take her about
+with him because it had not always been possible that his holidays in his school
+life should be spent at home, and thus the privilege was doubly prized.</p>
+<p>The two sisters above and one brother below him were in India with their
+father, and Gillian was not yet out of the schoolroom, though this did not cut
+her off from being her mother's prime companion. Then followed a schoolboy at
+Wellington, named Jasper, two more girls, a brace of boys, and the five-year-old
+baby of the establishment--sufficient reasons to detain Lady Merrifield in
+England after more than twenty years of travels as a soldier's wife, so that
+scarcely three of her children had the same birthplace. She had been able to see
+very little of her English relations, being much tied by the number of her
+children while all were very young, and the expense of journeys; but she was now
+within easy reach of her two unmarried sisters, and after the Cape, Gibraltar,
+Malta, and Dublin, the homes of her eldest sister, and of her eldest brother did
+not seem very far off.</p>
+<p>Indeed Beechcroft, the home of her childhood, had always been the
+headquarters of herself and her children on their rare visits to England. Her
+elder boys had been sure of a welcome there in the holidays, and loved it
+scarcely less than she did herself; and when looking for her present abode, the
+whole family had stayed there for three months. Her brother Maurice, however,
+she had scarcely seen, and she had been much pained at being included in his
+persistent avoidance of the whole family, who felt that he resented their
+displeasure at his marriage even more since his wife's death than he had done
+during her lifetime, as if he felt doubly bound, for her sake, not to forgive
+and forget. At least so said some of the family, while others hoped that his
+distaste to all intercourse with them only arose from the apathy succeeding a
+great blow.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER III<br>
+GOOD-BYE</h3>
+
+<p>A passage was offered to Mr. Mohun in a Queen's ship, and this hurried the
+preparations so much that to Dolores it appeared that there was nothing but
+bustle and confusion, from the day of her conversation with Maude, until she
+found herself in the railway carriage returning from Plymouth with her eldest
+uncle. Her father had intended to take her himself to Silverfold; but detentions
+at the office in London, and then a telegram from Plymouth, had disconcerted his
+plans, and when he found that his eldest brother would come and meet him at the
+last, he was glad to yield to his little daughter's earnest desire to be with
+him as long as possible.</p>
+<p>Shy and reserved as both were, and almost incapable of finding expression for
+their feelings, they still clung closely together, though the only tears the
+girl was seen to shed came in church on the last Sunday evening, blinding and
+choking, and she could barely restrain her sobs. Her father would have taken her
+out, but she resisted, and leant against him, while he put his arm round her.
+After this, whenever it was possible, she crept up to him, and he held her
+close.</p>
+<p>There had been no further discussion on her home. Lady Merrifield had written
+kindly to her, as well as to her father, but that was small consolation to one
+so well instructed by story books in the hypocrisy of aunts until fathers were
+at a distance. And her father was so manifestly gratified by the letter, that it
+would be of no use to say a word to him now. Her fate was determined, and, as
+she heroically told Maude in their last interview, she was determined to make
+the best of it. She would endure the unjust aunt, and jealous, silly cousins,
+and be so clever, and wise, and superior, that she would force them to admire
+and respect her, and by-and-by follow her example, and be good and sensible, so
+that when father came home, he would find them acknowledging that they owed
+everything to her; she had saved two or three of their lives, nursed half of
+them when the other half were helpless, fainting, and hysterical, and, in short,
+been the Providence of the household. Then father would look at her, and say,
+'My Mary again!' and he would take her home, and talk to her with the free
+confidence he had shown her mother, and would be comforted.</p>
+<p>This was the hope that had carried her through the last parting, when she
+went on board with her uncle and saw her father's cabin, and looked with a dull
+kind of entertainment at all the curious arrangements of the big ship. It seemed
+more like sight-seeing than good-bye, when at last they were sent on shore, and
+hurried up to the station just in time for the train.</p>
+<p>Uncle William was a very unapproachable person. He did not profess to
+understand little girls. He looked at Dolores rather anxiously, afraid, perhaps,
+that she was crying, and put her into the carriage, then rushed out and brought
+back a handful of newspapers, giving her the Graphic, and hiding himself in the
+Times.</p>
+<p>She felt too dull and stunned to read, or to look at the pictures, though she
+held the paper in her hands, and she gazed out dreamily at the Ton's and rocks
+and woody ravines of Dartmoor as they flew past her, the leaves and ferns all
+golden brown with autumn colouring. She had had little sleep that night; her
+little legs had all the morning been keeping up with the two men's hasty steps,
+and though an excellent meal had been set before her in the ship, she had not
+been able to swallow much, and she was a good deal worn out. So when at last
+they reached Exeter, and finding there would be two hours to wait, her uncle
+asked whether she would come down into the town with him and see the Cathedral,
+she much preferred to stay where she was. He put her under the care of the woman
+in the waiting-room, who gave her some tea, took off her hat, and made her lie
+down on a couch, where she slept quite sound for more than an hour, until she
+was roused by some ladies coming in with a crying baby.</p>
+<p>It was, she thought, nearly time to go on, for the gas was being lighted. She
+put on her hat, and went out to look for her uncle on the platform, so as to get
+into a better light to see the face of her mother's little Swiss watch, which
+her father had just made over to her. She had just made out that there was not
+more than a quarter of an hour to spare, when she heard an exclamation.</p>
+<p>'By Jove! if that ain't Mary's little girl!' and, looking up she saw Mr.
+Flinders' huge, bushy, light-coloured beard. 'Is your father here?' he asked.</p>
+<p>'No; he sailed this afternoon.'</p>
+<p>'Always my luck! Ticket wasted! Sailed--really?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes. We did not come back till the ship was out of harbour.'</p>
+<p>He muttered some exclamation, and asked--</p>
+<p>'Whom are you with?'</p>
+<p>'Uncle William. Mr. Mohun--my eldest uncle. He will be back directly.'</p>
+<p>Mr. Flinders whistled a note of discontent.</p>
+<p>'Going to rusticate with him, poor little mite?' he asked.</p>
+<p>'No. I'm to live with my Aunt Lilias--Lady Merrifield.'</p>
+<p>'Where?'</p>
+<p>'At Silverfold Grange, near Silverfold.'</p>
+<p>'Well, you'll get among the swells. They'll make you cut all your poor
+mother's connections. So there's an end of it. She was a good creature--she
+was!'</p>
+<p>'I'll never forget any one that belongs to her,' said Dolores. 'Oh, there's
+Uncle William!' as on the top of the stairs she spied the welcome sight of his
+grey locks and burly figure. Before he had descended, her other uncle had
+vanished, and she fancied she had heard something about, 'Mum about our meeting.
+Ta ta!'</p>
+<p>Uncle William's eyes being less sharp than hers, he was on his way to the
+waiting-room before she joined him, and as he had not seen her encounter, she
+would not tell him. They were settled in the carriage again, and she was
+tolerably refreshed. Mr. Mohun fell asleep, and she, after reading by the
+lamp-light as long as she could find anything to read, gazed at the odd
+reflections in the windows till she, too, nodded and dozed, half waking at every
+station.</p>
+<p>At last, she was aware of a stop in earnest, voices, and being called. There
+was her uncle saying, 'Well, Hal, here we are!' and she was lifted out and set
+on the platform, with gas all round. Her uncle was saying, 'We didn't get away
+in time for the express,' and a young man was answering, 'We'd better put Dolly
+into the waggonette at once. Then I'll see to the luggage.'</p>
+<p>Very like a parcel, so stiff were her legs, she was bundled into the dark
+cavern of a closed waggonette, and, after a little lumbering, her uncle and the
+young man got in after her, saying something about eleven o'clock.</p>
+<p>She was more awake now, and knew that they were driving through lighted
+streets, and then, after an interval, turned into darkness, upon gravel, and
+stopped at last before a door full of light, with figures standing up dark in
+it. She heard a 'Well, William!' 'Well Lily, here we are at last!' Then there
+were arms embracing her, and a kiss on each cheek, as a soft voice said, 'My
+poor little girl! They wanted to sit up for you, but it was too late, and I dare
+say you had rather be quiet.'</p>
+<p>She was led into a lamp-lit room, which dazzled her. It was spread with food,
+but she was too much tired to eat, and her aunt saw how it was, and telling
+Harry to take care of his uncle, she took the hand--though it did not close on
+hers--and, climbing up what seemed to Dolores an endless number of stairs, she
+said--</p>
+<p>'You are up high, my dear; but I thought you would like a room to yourself.'</p>
+<p>'Poked away in an attic,' was Dolores's dreamy thought; while her aunt added,
+to a tall, thin woman, who came out with a lamp in her hand--</p>
+<p>'She is so tired that she had better go to bed directly, Mrs. Halfpenny. You
+will make her comfortable, and don't let her be disturbed in the morning till
+she has had her sleep out.'</p>
+<p>Dolly found herself undressed, without many words, till it came to--'Your
+prayers, Miss Dora. I am sure you've need not to miss them.'</p>
+<p>She did not like to be told, besides, poor child, prayers were not much more
+than a form to her. She did not contest the point, but knelt down and muttered
+something, then laid her weary head on the pillow, was tucked up by Mrs.
+Halfpenny, and left in the dark. It was a dreary half sleep into which she fell.
+The noise of the train seemed to be still in her ears, and at the same time she
+was always being driven up--up--up endless stairs, by tall, cruel aunts; or they
+were shutting her up to do all their children's work, and keeping away father's
+letters from her. Then she awoke and told herself it was a dream, but she missed
+the noises of the street, and the patch of light on the wall from the gas lamps,
+and recollected that father was gone, and she was really in the power of one of
+these cruel aunts; and she felt like screaming, only then she might have been
+heard; and a great horrid clock went on making a noise like a church bell, and
+striking so many odd quarters that there was no guessing when morning was
+coming. And after all, why should she wish it to come? Oh, if she could but
+sleep the three years while father was away!</p>
+<p>At last, however, she fell into a really calm sleep, and when she awoke, the
+room was full of light, but her watch had stopped; she had been too much tired
+to remember to wind it; and she lay a little while hearing sounds that made it
+clear that the world was astir, and she could see that preparations had been
+made for her getting up.</p>
+<p>'They shan't begin by scolding me for being late,' she thought, and she began
+her toilette.</p>
+<p>Just as she came to her hair, the old nurse knocked and asked whether she
+wanted help.</p>
+<p>'Thank you, I've been used to dress myself,' said Dolores, rather proudly.</p>
+<p>'I'll help you now, missy, for prayers are over, and they are all gone to
+breakfast, only my lady said you were not to be disturbed, and Miss Mysie will
+be up presently again to bring you down.'</p>
+<p>She spoke low, and in an accent that Dolores afterwards learnt was Scotch;
+and she was a tall, thin, bony woman, with sandy hair, who looked as if she had
+never been young. She brushed and plaited the dark hair in a manner that seemed
+to the owner more wearisome and less tender than Caroline's fashion; and did not
+talk more than to inquire into the fashion of wearing it, and to say that Miss
+Mohun's boxes had been sent from London, demanding the keys that they might be
+unpacked.</p>
+<p>'I can do that myself,' said Dolores, who did not like any stranger to meddle
+with her things.</p>
+<p>'Ye could tak them oot, nae doubt, but I must sort them. It's my lady's
+orders,' said Mrs. Halfpenny, with all the determination of the sergeant, her
+husband, and Dolores, with a sense of despair, and a sort of expectation that
+she should be deprived of all her treasures on one plea or another, gave up the
+keys.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Halfpenny then observed that the frock which had been worn for the last
+two days on the railway, and evening and morning, needed a better brushing and
+setting to rights than she had had time to give it. She had better take out
+another. Which box were her frocks in?</p>
+<p>Dolores expected her heartless relations to insist on her leaving off her
+mourning, and she knew she ought to struggle and shed tears over it; but, to
+tell the truth, she was a good deal tired of her hot and fusty black; and when
+she had followed Mrs. Halfpenny into a passage where the boxes stood uncorded;
+and the first dress that came to light was a pretty fresh-looking holland that
+had been sent home just before the accident, she exclaimed--</p>
+<p>'Oh, let me put that on.'</p>
+<p>'Bless me, miss, it has blue braid, and you in mourning for your poor mamma!'</p>
+<p>Dolores stood abashed, but a grey alpaca, which she had always much disliked,
+came out next, and Mrs. Halfpenny decided that with her black ribbons that would
+do, though it turned out to be rather shockingly short, and to show a great
+display of black legs; but as the box containing the clothes in present wear had
+not come to hand, this must stand for the present--and besides, a voice was
+heard, saying, 'Is Dora ready?' and a young person darted up, put her arms round
+her neck, and kissed her before she knew what she was about. 'Mamma said I
+should come because I am just your age, thirteen and a half,' she said. 'I'm
+Mysie, though my proper name is Maria Millicent.'</p>
+<p>Dolores looked her over. She was a good deal taller than herself, and had
+rich-looking shining brown hair, dark brown eyes full of merriment, and a bright
+rosy colour, and she danced on her active feet as if she were full of perpetual
+life. 'All happy and not caring,' thought Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Now don't fash Miss Mohun with your tricks. She has stood like a lamb,' said
+Mrs. Halfpenny reprovingly. 'There, we'll not keep her to find an apron.'</p>
+<p>'I don't wear pinafores,' said Mysie, 'but I don't mind pretty aprons like
+this. 'Why, my sisters had them for tennis, before they went out to India. Come
+along, Dora,' grasping her hand.</p>
+<p>'My name isn't Dora,' said the new-comer, as they went down the passage.</p>
+<p>'No,' said Mysie, in a low voice; 'but mamma told Gill--that's Gillian, and
+me, that we had better not tell anybody, because if the boys heard they might
+tease you so about it; for Wilfred is a tease, and there's no stopping him when
+mamma isn't there. So she said she would call you Dora, or Dolly, whichever you
+liked, and you are not a bit like a Dolly.'</p>
+<p>'They always called me Dolly,' said Dolores; 'and if I am not to have my
+name, I like that best; but I had rather have my proper name.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, very well,' said Mysie; 'it is more out of the way, only it is very
+long.'</p>
+<p>By this time they had descended a long narrow flight of uncarpeted stairs,
+'the back ones,' as Mysie explained, and had reached a slippery oak hall with
+high-backed chairs, and all the odds and ends of a family-garden hats,
+waterproofs, galoshes, bats, rackets, umbrellas, etc., ranged round, and a great
+white cockatoo upon a stand, who observed--'Mysie, Cockie wants his breakfast,'
+as they went by towards the door, whence proceeded a hubbub of voices and a
+clatter of knives and jingle of teaspoons and cups, a room that as Mysie threw
+open the door seemed a blaze of sunshine, pouring in at the large window, and
+reflected in the glass and silver. Yes, and in the bright eyes and glossy hair
+of the party who sat round the breakfast-table, further brightened by the fire,
+pleasant in the early autumn.</p>
+<p>Eyes, as it seemed to Dolores, eyes without number were levelled on her, as
+Mysie led her in, saying--</p>
+<p>'Here's a place by mamma; she kept it for you, between her and Uncle
+William.'</p>
+<p>'No, don't all jump up at once and rush at her,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Give
+her a little time. Here, my dear;' and she held out her hand and drew in the
+stranger to her, kissing her kindly, and placing her in a chair close to
+herself, as she presided over the teacups--not at the end, but at the middle of
+the table--while all that could be desired to eat and drink found its way at
+once to Dolores, who had arrived at being hungry now, and was glad to have the
+employment for hands and eyes, instead of feeling herself gazed at. She was not
+so much occupied, however, as not to perceive that Uncle William's voice had a
+free, merry ring in it, such as she had never heard in his visits to her father,
+and that there was a great deal of fun and laughter going on over the thin
+sheets of an Indian letter, which Aunt Lily was reading aloud.</p>
+<p>No one seemed to be attending to anything else, when Dolores ventured to cast
+a glance around and endeavour to count heads as she sat between her uncle and
+aunt. Two boys and a girl were opposite. Harry, who had come to meet them last
+night, was at one end of the table, a tall girl, but still a schoolroom girl,
+was at the other, and Mysie had been lost sights of on her own side of the
+table; also there was a very tiny girl on a high chair on the other side of her
+mamma. 'Seven,' thought Dolores with sinking heart. 'Eight oppressors!'</p>
+<p>They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures. One boy, at the further
+corner, had a cast in his eye, and was thin and wizen-looking, and when he saw
+her eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got rid of like a flash of
+lightning before any one else could see it, but her heart sank all the more for
+it. He must be Wilfred, the teaser.</p>
+<p>Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in some kind of soft grey,
+with a little carnation colour at her throat, and a pretty lace cap on her still
+rich, abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search could only detect a very
+few white threads. Her complexion was always of a soft, paly, brunette tint, and
+though her cheeks showed signs that she was not young, her dark, soft,
+long-lashed eyes and sweet-looking lips made her face full of life and
+freshness; and the figure and long slender hands had the kind of grace that some
+people call willowy, but which is perhaps more like the general air of a young
+birch tree, or, as Hal had once said, 'Early pointed architecture reminded him
+of his mother.'</p>
+<p>The little one was getting restless, and two of the boys began filliping
+crumbs at one another.</p>
+<p>'Wilfred! Fergus!' said the mother quite low and gently; but they stopped
+directly. 'We will say grace,' she said, lifting the little one down. 'Now,
+Primrose.'</p>
+<p>Every one stood up, to Dolores' surprise, a pair of little fat hands were put
+together, a little clear voice said a few words of thanksgiving perfectly
+pronounced.</p>
+<p>'You may go, if you like,' she said. 'Hal, take care of Prim.'</p>
+<p>Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who took the hand of little
+Primrose, a beautiful little maiden with rich chestnut wavy curls. They all
+paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the girls a little curtsey.
+Primrose's was as pretty a little 'bob' as ever was seen.</p>
+<p>'I am glad you keep that custom up,' said Mr. Mohun.</p>
+<p>'Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it to be the habit among us;
+and I find it a great protection against bouncing and rudeness.'</p>
+<p>But Dolly's blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, military nonsense. She
+would never give in to it, if they made her live on bread and water!</p>
+<p>The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened out their breakfast from
+politeness to her, had finished when she had, and the pony-chaise came to the
+door, in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the station. Everybody flocked
+to the door to bid him good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias stooped down to ask
+Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite well, Mysie standing anxiously
+by as if she felt her a great charge.</p>
+<p>'Quite well, quite rested, thank you,' the girl answered in her stiff, shy
+way.</p>
+<p>'There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent comes. The children
+generally spend it in feeding the creatures. I am not going to give a holiday,
+because I think people get more pleasantly acquainted over something, than over
+nothing, to do, but you need not begin lessons to-day if you had rather settle
+your thoughts and write your letters.'</p>
+<p>'I had rather begin at once,' said Dolores, who thought she would now
+establish her pre-eminence at the cost of any amount of jealousy.</p>
+<p>'Very well, then, when you hear the gong--'</p>
+<p>'Mamma,' said Mysie solemnly, after long waiting, 'she says she had rather
+not be called out of her name.'</p>
+<p>'I thought you had been called Dolly, my dear.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, at home,' with a strong emphasis.</p>
+<p>'Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to keep to your proper name at
+once. We won't take liberties with it, till you feel as if you could call this
+home,' said Lady Merrifield, looking as if she would have kissed her niece on
+the slightest encouragement, but no one ever looked less kissable than Dolores
+Mohun at that moment. Was it not cruel and hypocritical to talk of this tiresome
+multitude as ever making home?</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER IV.<br>
+TURNED IN AMONG THEM</h3>
+
+<p>'Do you like pets?' asked Mysie eagerly, as her mother left the two girls
+together.</p>
+<p>'I never had any,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Oh how dreadful! Why, old Cockie, and Aga and Begum, the two oldest pussies,
+have been everywhere with us. And, besides, there's Basto, the big Pyrenean dog,
+and,--oh, here comes little Quiz, mamma's little Maltese--Quiz, Quiz.'</p>
+<p>Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or cats; and the little
+spun-glass looking dog smelt about her.</p>
+<p>'I must go and feed my guinea-pig,' said Mysie; 'won't you come? Here are
+some over shoes and Poncho.'</p>
+<p>Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but it turned out to be a sort
+of cape, and she discovered that all the cloaks and most of the sticks had names
+of their own. She was afraid to be left standing on the steps alone lest any
+amount of animals or boys should fall on her there, so she consented to
+accompany Mysie, who shuffled along in a pair of overshoes vastly too big for
+her, since she had put her cousin into the well-fitting ones. She chattered all
+the way.</p>
+<p>'We do like this place so. It is the nicest we have ever been in. All that is
+wanting is that papa will buy it, and then we shall never go away again.'</p>
+<p>It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a homely-looking, roomy, red-brick
+house, covered with creepers--the Virginian one with its leaves just beginning
+to be painted. There was a bright sunny garden full of flowers in front, and
+then a paddock, with cows belonging to a farmer, Mysie said. It was her ambition
+to have them of their own 'when papa came home,' when all good things were to
+happen. Behind there were large stable-yards and offices, too large for Lady
+Merrifield's one horse and one pony, and thus available for the children's
+menagerie of rabbits, guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like. On the way Mysie was
+only too happy to explain the family as she called it, when she had recovered
+from her astonishment that Dolores, always living in England, could not 'count
+up her cousins.' 'Why they always had been shown their photographs on a Sunday
+evening after the Bible pictures, and even little Primrose knew all the
+likeness, even of those she had never seen.'</p>
+<p>The catalogue of names and ages followed.</p>
+<p>Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, and a sense that one Maude
+was worth all the eight put together with whom she was called on to be familiar.
+She found herself standing in a court, rather grass-grown, where Gillian, with
+little Primrose by her side, was flinging peas to a number of pigeons, grey,
+white, and brown, who fluttered round her. Valetta and Fergus were on the
+granary steps, throwing meal and sop mixed together to a host of cackling,
+struggling fowls, who tried to leap over each other's backs. Wilfred seemed busy
+at some hutches where some rabbits twitched their noses at cabbage leaves. Mysie
+proceeded to minister to some black and rust-coloured guinea-pigs, which Dolores
+thought very ugly, uninteresting, and odorous.</p>
+<p>Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, and cats and kittens parading
+before people's feet, so that Dolores felt as if she had been turned into a den
+of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again venturing into the court at
+'feeding-time.' A big bell gathered all the children up together into a race to
+the house. There was another scurry to change shoes and wash hands, and then
+Mysie conducted her cousin into a large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the ground
+floor, with deep windows, and numerous little, solid-looking deal tables. There
+were Lady Merrifield and a young lady in spectacles, to whom Dolores was
+presented as 'your new pupil,' and every one sat down at one of the little
+tables, on which there were Bibles and Prayer-books.</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her. Dolores found a
+table ready for her with the books. A passage in the New Testament was given out
+and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, which was the Parable of the
+Tares, and then Lady Merrifield gave a short lesson on it, asking questions, and
+causing references to be found, according to a book of notes, she had ready at
+hand.</p>
+<p>'Just like a charity school,' thought Dolores, when she was able to glance at
+the time-table, and saw that two days in the week there was Old Testament, two
+days New, one day Catechism, one day Prayer-book. Only half an hour was thus
+appropriated, but to her mind it was an old-fashioned waste of time, and very
+tiresome.</p>
+<p>Then came a ring at the door-bell. 'Mr. Poulter,' she heard, and to her
+amazement, she found that Gillian and Mysie, as well as their brothers, had
+Latin lessons in the dining-room with the curate. The two girls and Fergus only
+went to him every other day, Wilfred every day, as Gillian was learning Greek
+and mathematics. What was Dolores to do?</p>
+<p>'Have you done any Latin, my dear?' asked her aunt.</p>
+<p>'Not yet. Father wished to be quite convinced that the professor was a good
+scholar,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Very well. We will wait a little,' said Aunt Lilias, and Dolores indignantly
+thought that she was amused.</p>
+<p>Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-room, whither her mother
+followed with Primrose's little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano to
+Valetta, and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss Vincent examined
+the new-comer, which she did by giving her some questions to answer in writing,
+and some French and German to translate and parse also in writing.</p>
+<p>The music was inconvenient to a girl who had always prepared her work alone.
+She could do the language work easily, but the questions teased her. They seemed
+to her of no use, and quite out of her beat. No dates, none of the subject she
+had specially got up. Why, if Miss Vincent did not know that people were not to
+be expected to answer stupid questions about history quite out of their own
+line, that was her fault.</p>
+<p>She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top of her pen till her aunt
+came back, and there was a change in occupations all round, resulting in her
+having to read French aloud, which she knew she did well; but it was provoking
+to find that Gillian read quite as well, and knew a word at which she had made a
+shot, and a wrong one.</p>
+<p>She heard the observation pass between her aunt and the governess, 'Languages
+fair, but she seems to have very little general information.'</p>
+<p>General information, indeed! Just as if she who had lived in London, gone to
+lectures, and travelled on the Continent, must not know more than these children
+cast up and down in a soldier's life; and as if her Fraulein, with all her
+diplomas, must not be far superior to a mere little daily governess, and a
+mother! It was all for the sake of depreciating her.</p>
+<p>At twelve o'clock, to her further indignation, she found there was to be an
+hour of reading aloud and of needlework-actual plain needlework. The three girls
+were making under-garments for themselves; and on Dolores proving to have no
+work of any sort, her aunt sent Gillian to the drawer, and produced a child's
+pinafore, which she was desired to hem. Each, however, had a quarter of an
+hour's reading aloud of history to do in turn, all from one big book, a history
+of Rome, and there was a map hung up over the black board, where they were in
+turn to point to the places mentioned. Before Gillian began reading, the date,
+and something about the former lesson was required to be told by the children,
+and it came quite readily, Valetta especially declaring that she did love
+Pyrrhus, which the others seemed to think very bad taste.</p>
+<p>Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and thought it foolish to study
+anything that did not tell in a Cambridge examination; but she supposed they
+knew no better down there; and when it came to her turn to read, she mangled the
+names so, that Val burst out laughing when she spoke of A-pious-Claudius. Lady
+Merrifield hushed this at once, and the girl read in a bewildered manner, and as
+one affronted. She saw he aunt looking at her piece of hemming, which, to say
+the truth, would not have done credit to Primrose, and the recollection came
+across her of all the oppressed orphans who had been made household drudges, so
+that her reading did not become more intelligible. As the clock struck one, a
+warning gong was heard; everybody jumped up, the work was folded away, and with
+the obeisance at the door, Gillian and Val ran away.</p>
+<p>Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to tidy the room; and Lady
+Merrifield said to Dolores--</p>
+<p>'I must teach you how to hold your needle tomorrow, my dear.'</p>
+<p>'I hate work,' responded Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Val does not like it,' said her aunt; 'nor indeed did I at your age; but one
+cannot be an independent woman without being able to take care of one's own
+clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn better than I did. Do
+you like a take a run with Mysie before dinner? Or there is the amusing shelf.
+Books may be taken out after one o'clock, and they must be put back at eight, or
+they are confiscated for the ensuing day,' she added, pointing to a paper below
+where this sentence was written.</p>
+<p>Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to make friends with the
+books than with the cousins. There were fewer than she expected, and nothing
+like so many absolute stories as she was used to reading with Maude Sefton.</p>
+<p>'Those are such grown-up books,' she said to Mysie, who came to assist her
+choice, and pointed to the upper shelves.</p>
+<p>'Oh, but grown-up books are nicest!' returned Mysie; 'at least, when they
+don't begin being stupid and marrying too soon. They must do it at last to get
+out of the story, and it's nicer than dying, but they can have lots of nice
+adventures first. But here are the 'Feats on the Fiords' and the 'Crofton Boys'
+and 'Water Babies,' and all the volumes of 'Aunt Judy,' if you like the younger
+sort. Or the dear, dear 'Thorn Fortress;' that's good for young and old.'</p>
+<p>'Haven't you any books of your own?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes; this 'Thorn Fortress' is Val's, and 'A York and a Lancaster Rose' is
+mine, but whenever any one gives us a book, if it is not a weeny little gem like
+Gill's 'Christian Year,' or my 'Little Pillow,' or Val's 'Children in the Wood,'
+we bring it to mother, and if it is nice, we keep it here, for every one to
+read. If it is just rather silly, and stupid, we may read it once, and then she
+keeps it; and if it is very silly indeed, she puts it out of the way.'</p>
+<p>Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal.</p>
+<p>'Have you got many books?'</p>
+<p>'Yes; but I don't mean to have them knocked about by all the boys, nor put
+out of the way neither.'</p>
+<p>'Mamma said we were to be all like sisters,' said Mysie, with rather a
+craving for the new books; but Dolores tossed up her head and said--</p>
+<p>'We can't be. It's nonsense to say so.'</p>
+<p>To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady Merrifield, who was looking at
+some exercises that Miss Vincent had laid before her.</p>
+<p>'Mamma,' she said, 'is it fair that Dolores should read our books, if she
+won't give you up hers to look over, and be like ours?'</p>
+<p>'Mysie,' said Lady Merrifield, 'you can't expect Dolores to like all our home
+plans till she is used to them. No, my dear, you need not be afraid; you shall
+keep your books in your own room, and nobody shall meddle with them. I am sure
+your cousins would not wish to be so unkind as to deprive you of the use of
+theirs.'</p>
+<p>By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take 'Tom Brown,' it was time for
+the general flight to prepare for dinner, and she found her room made to look
+very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her books and little knickknacks had
+been put out, not quite as she preferred, but still so as to make the place seem
+like her own. She was pleased enough to be quite gracious to Mysie and Val who
+came to visit her, and to offer to let them read any of her books; when they
+both thanked her and said--</p>
+<p>'If mamma lets us.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, then you won't have them,' said Dolores; 'I'm not going to let her have
+my books to take away.'</p>
+<p>'You don't think she would take them away, when she said she wouldn't?' said
+Mysie, hotly.</p>
+<p>'Why, what would she do if she didn't happen to approve of them?'</p>
+<p>'Only tell us not to read them.'</p>
+<p>'And wouldn't you?'</p>
+<p>'Why, Dolores!' in such a tone as made her ashamed of her question; and she
+said, 'Well, father never makes any fuss about what I read. He has other things
+to think of.'</p>
+<p>'How do you get books, then?'</p>
+<p>'I buy them. And Maude Sefton, she's my great friend, has lots given to her,
+but nobody bothers about reading them. They aren't grown-up books, you know.'</p>
+<p>'How stupid,' said Val. 'You had better read the 'Talisman,' and then you'll
+see how nice a grown-up book is.'</p>
+<p>'The 'Talisman!' Why, Maude Sefton's brother had to get it up for his holiday
+task, and he said it was all rot and bosh.'</p>
+<p>'What a horridly stupid boy he must be,' returned Mysie. 'Why, I remember
+when Jasper once had the 'Talisman' to do, and the big ones were so delighted.
+Mamma read it out, and I was just old enough to listen. I remembered all about
+Sir Kenneth and Roswal.'</p>
+<p>'Tom Sefton's not stupid!' said Dolores, in wrath; 'but--but the book is
+stupid and out of date! I heard father and the professor say it was gone by.'</p>
+<p>Mysie and Valetta looked perfectly astounded, and Dolores pursued her
+advantage.</p>
+<p>'Of course it is all very well for you that have never lived in London, nor
+had any advantages.'</p>
+<p>'But we have advantages!' cried Val.</p>
+<p>'You don't know what advantages are,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'There's the gong,' cried Mysie, and down they all plunged into the
+dining-room, where the family were again collected, with Hal at one end and his
+mother at the other.</p>
+<p>Dolores was amazed when, at the first pause, after every one was help,
+Valetta's voice arose.</p>
+<p>'Mamma, what are advantages?'</p>
+<p>'Don't you know, Val?'</p>
+<p>'Dolores says we haven't any. And I said we have. And she says I don't know
+what advantages are.'</p>
+<p>Hal and Gillian were both laughing with all their might. Their mother kept
+her countenance, and said--</p>
+<p>'I suppose every one has advantages of some sort, and perhaps without knowing
+them.'</p>
+<p>'I'm sure I know,' cried Fergus.</p>
+<p>'Well, what are they?' asked Harry.</p>
+<p>'Having mamma!' cried the little boy.</p>
+<p>'Hear, hear! That's right, Fergy man! Couldn't be better!' cried Harry, and
+there was a general acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie with the fear that
+her motherless cousin might feel the contrast, and, though against rules, she
+whispered--</p>
+<p>'She will make you like one of us.'</p>
+<p>'That wasn't what I meant,' returned Dolores, a little contemptuously.</p>
+<p>'What did you mean?' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Why, you've no classes, nor lectures, nor master, and only just a mere daily
+governess.'</p>
+<p>Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her neighbour, but Mysie
+demanded--</p>
+<p>'What, do you want to be doing lessons all day long?'</p>
+<p>'No, but good governesses never are daily!'</p>
+<p>'That's a pity,' said Gillian, turning round on her. 'Perhaps you don't know
+that Miss Vincent has a First Class Cambridge Certificate in everything, and is
+daily, because she likes to live with her mother.'</p>
+<p>'I think,' added Lady Merrifield, with a smile, 'that Dolores has been in the
+way of seeing more clever people, and getting superior teaching of some kind,
+but we will do the best we can for her, and try not to let her miss many
+advantages.'</p>
+<p>Dolores felt a little abashed, and decidedly angry at being put in the wrong.</p>
+<p>The elders kindly turned away the general attention from her. There was a
+great deal of merry family fun going on, which was quite like a new language to
+her. Fergus and Primrose wanted to go out in search of blackberries. Gillian
+undertook to drive them in the cart, but as the donkey had once or twice refused
+to cross a little stream of water that traversed the road, the brothers foretold
+that she would ignominiously come back again.</p>
+<p>'Gill and water are perilous!' observed Hal.</p>
+<p>'Jack's not here,' said Gillian; 'besides, it is down, not up the hill, and
+I'm sure I don't want to draw a pail of water.'</p>
+<p>'No--Sancho will do that.'</p>
+<p>'The gong will sound and sound, buzz and roar,' said Wilfred. 'No Gill! no
+little ones! We shall send out and find them stuck fast in the lane, Sancho with
+his feet spread out wide, Gill with three or four sticks lying broken on the
+road round her, the kids reduced to eating blackberries like the children in the
+wood.'</p>
+<p>'Don't Fred,' said Gillian. 'You'll frighten them.'</p>
+<p>'Little donkeys!' said Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'If they were, we shouldn't want Sancho,' said Val.</p>
+<p>It was not a very sublime bit of wit, but there was a great laugh at it all
+round the table. Val and Fergus declared they would go too, till they heard that
+Nurse Halfpenny said she would not let the little ones go out without her to
+tear their clothes to pieces.</p>
+<p>Every one unanimously declared that would be no fun at all, and turned to
+mamma to beg her to forbid nurse to come out and spoil everything.</p>
+<p>'That's just her view,' said mamma, laughing; 'she thinks you spoil
+everything.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, that's clothes! Spoiling fun is worse.'</p>
+<p>'But were you really going with the old Halfpenny, Gill?' said Mysie, turning
+to her.</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Gillian. 'You know I can manage her pretty well when it is only
+the little ones and they wouldn't have any pleasure otherwise.'</p>
+<p>'Oh come, Gill,' intreated Fergus, 'or nurse will make us sit in the
+donkey-cart all the time while Lois picks the blackberries!'</p>
+<p>'Mamma, do tell her not to come,' intreated Valetta, and more of them joined
+in with her.</p>
+<p>'No, my dears, I don't like to vex her when she thinks she is doing her
+duty.'</p>
+<p>'She wouldn't come if you did, mamma,' and there was a general outcry of
+intreaty that mamma would come with them, and defend them from Mrs. Halfpenny,
+as Fergus, who was rather a formal little fellow, expressed it, and mamma, after
+a little consideration, consented to drive the pony-carriage in that direction,
+and to announce to Nurse Halfpenny that she herself would take charge of the
+children. Whereupon there was a whoop and a war-dance of jubilee, quite
+overwhelming to Dolores, who could not but privately ask Mysie if Nurse
+Halfpenny was so very cross.</p>
+<p>'Awfully,' said Mysie, and Wilfred added--</p>
+<p>'As savage as a bear with a sore head.'</p>
+<p>'Like Mrs. Crabtree?' asked Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Exactly. Jasper called her so when he wanted to lash her up, till at lash
+she got hold of his 'Holiday House' and threw it into the sea, and it was in
+Malta and we couldn't get another,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'And haven't you one?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Gill and I save for it; but mamma only let us have it on condition we
+made a solemn promise never to tease nurse about it.'</p>
+<p>'And does she go at you with that dreadful thing--what's it name--the tawse?'</p>
+<p>'Ah! you'll soon know,' said Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'No, no; nonsense, Fred,' said Mysie, as Dolores' face worked with
+consternation. 'She never hits us, not if we are ever so tiresome. Papa and
+mamma would not let her.'</p>
+<p>'But why do they let her be so dreadful? Maude's nurse used to be horrid and
+slap her, and when her mother found it out the woman was sent away directly.'</p>
+<p>Nurse Halfpenny isn't that sort,' said Mysie. 'Her husband was papa's
+colour-sergeant, and he got a sun-stroke and died, and then she came when
+Gillian was just born, and so weak and tiny that she would never have lived if
+nurse hadn't watched her day and night, and so Gillian's her favourite, except
+the youngest, and she is ever so good, you know. I've heard the ladies, when we
+were with the dear old 111th, telling mamma how they envied her her trustworthy
+treasure.'</p>
+<p>'I'm sure they might have had her at half-price,' said Wilfred. 'She's be
+dear at a farthing!'</p>
+<p>At that moment Mrs. Halfpenny's voice was heard demanding if it were really
+her ladyship's pleasure to go out, fatiguing herself to the very death with all
+the children rampaging about her and tearing themselves to pieces, if not
+poisoning themselves with all sorts of nasty berries.</p>
+<p>'Indeed I'll take care of them and bring them back safe to you,' responded
+her ladyship, very much in the tone of one of her own children making promises.
+'Put them on their brown hollands and they can't come to much harm.'</p>
+<p>'Well, if it's your wish, ma'am, my leddy; what must be, must, but I know how
+it will be--you'll come back tired out, fit to drop, and Miss Val and Miss
+Primrose won't have a rag fit to be seen on them. But if it's your will, what
+must be must, for you're no better than a bairn yourself, general's lady though
+you be, and G.C.B.'</p>
+<p>'No, nurse, you'll be G.C.B.--Grand Commander of the Bath--when we come
+home,' called out Hall, who was leaning on the banister at the bottom, and there
+was a general laugh, during which Dolly tardily climbed the stairs, so tardily
+that her aunt, meeting her, asked whether she was still tired, and if she would
+rather have the afternoon to arrange her room.</p>
+<p>She said 'yes,' but not 'thank you,' and went on, relieved that Mysie did not
+offer to stay and help her, and yet rather offended at being left alone, while
+all the others went their own way. She heard them pattering and clattering,
+shouting and calling up and down the passages, and then came a great silence,
+while they could be seen going down the drive, some on foot, some in the
+pony-chaise or donkey-cart.</p>
+<p>Her things had all been unpacked and put in order, and her room had a very
+cheerful window. It was prettily furnished with fresh pink and white dimity, and
+choice-looking earthenware, but to London eyes like those of Dolores it seemed
+very old-fashioned and what she called 'poked up.' The paper was ugly, the
+chimney-piece was a narrow, painting thing, of the same dull, stone-colour as
+the door and the window-frame. And then the clear air, the perfect stillness,
+the absence of anything moving in the view from the window gave the city-bred
+child a sense of dreadful loneliness and dreariness as she sat on the side of
+her bed, with one foot under her, gazing dolefully round her, and in he head
+composing her own memoirs.</p>
+<p>'Fully occupied with their own plans and amusements, the lonely orphan was
+left in solitude. Her aunt knew not how her heart ached after the home she had
+left, but the machine of the family went its own way and trod her under its
+wheels.'</p>
+<p>This was such a fine sentence that it was almost a comfort, and she thought
+of writing it to Maude Sefton, but as she got up to fetch her writing-case from
+the schoolroom, she saw that her books were standing just in the way she did not
+like, and with all the volumes mixed up together. So she tumbled them all out of
+the shelves on the floor, and at that moment Mrs. Halfpenny looked into the
+room.</p>
+<p>'Well, to be sure!' she exclaimed, 'when me and Lois have been working at
+them books all the morning.'</p>
+<p>'They were all nohow--as I don't like them,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Oh, very well, please yourself then, miss, if that's all the thanks you have
+in your pocket, you may put them up your own way, for all I care. Only my lady
+will have the young ladies' rooms kept neat and orderly, or they lose marks for
+it.'</p>
+<p>'I don't want any help,' said Dolores, crossly, and Mrs. Halfpenny shut the
+door with a bang. 'The menials are insulting me,' said Dolores to herself, and a
+tear came to her eye, while all the time there was a certain mournful
+satisfaction in being so entirely the heroine of a book.</p>
+<p>She went to work upon her books, at first hotly and sharply, and very
+carefully putting the tallest in the centre so as to form a gradual ascent with
+the tops and not for the world letting a second volume stand before its elder
+brother, but she soon got tired, took to peeping at one or two parting gifts
+which she had not yet been able to read, and at last got quite absorbed in the
+sorrows of a certain Clare, whose golden hair was cut short by her wicked aunt,
+because it outshone her cousin's sandy locks. There was reason to think that a
+tress of this same golden hair would lead to her recognition by some grandfather
+of unknown magnificence, as exactly like that of his long-lost Claribel, and
+this might result in her assuming splendours that would annihilate the aunt.
+Things seemed tending to a fracture of the ice under the cruellest cousin of
+all, and her rescue by Clare, when they would be carried senseless into the
+great house, and the recognition of Clare and the discomfiture of her foes would
+take place. How could Dolores shut the book at such a critical moment!</p>
+<p>So there she was sitting in the midst of her scattered books, when the
+galloping and scampering began again, and Mysie knocked at the door to tell her
+there were pears, apples, biscuits, and milk in the dining-room, and that after
+consuming them, lessons had to be learnt for the next day, and then would follow
+amusements, evening toilette, seven o'clock tea, and either games or reading
+aloud till bedtime. As to the books, Mysie stood aghast.</p>
+<p>'I thought nurse and Lois had done them all for you.'</p>
+<p>'They did them all wrong, so I took them down.'</p>
+<p>Oh, dear! We must put them in, or there'll be a report.'</p>
+<p>'A report!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Nurse Halfpenny reports us whenever she doesn't find our rooms tidy,
+and then we get a bad mark. Perhaps mamma wouldn't give you one this first day,
+but it is best to make sure. Shall I help you, or you won't have time to eat any
+pears?'</p>
+<p>Dolores was thankful for help, and the books were scrambled in anyhow on the
+shelves; for Mysie's good nature was endangering her share of the afternoon's
+gouter, though perhaps it consoled her that her curiosity was gratified by a
+hasty glance at the backs of her cousin's story-books.</p>
+<p>By the time the two girls got down to the dining-table, every one had left
+the room, and there only remained one doubtful pear, and three baked apples,
+besides the loaf and the jug of milk. Mysie explained that not being a regular
+meal, no one was obliged to come punctually to it, or to come at all, but these
+who came tardily might fare the worse. As to the blackberries, for which Dolores
+inquired, the girls were going to make jam of them themselves the next day; but
+Mysie added, with an effort, she would fetch some, as her cousin had had none in
+the gathering.</p>
+<p>'Oh no, thank you; I hate blackberries,' said Dolores, helping herself to an
+apple.</p>
+<p>'Do you?' said Mysie, blankly. 'We don't. They are such fun. You can't think
+how delicious the great overhanging clusters are in the lane. Some was up so
+high that Hal had to stand up in the cart to reach them, and to take Fergus up
+on his shoulder. We never had such a blackberrying as with mamma and Hal to help
+us. And only think, a great carriage came by, with some very grand people in it;
+we think it was the Dean; and they looked down the lane and stared, so surprised
+to see what great mind to call out, 'Fee, faw, fum.' You know nothing makes such
+a good giant as Fergus standing on Hal's shoulders, and a curtain over them to
+hide Hal's face. Oh dear, I wish I hadn't told you! You would have been a new
+person to show it to.'</p>
+<p>Dolores made very little answer, finished her apple, and followed to the
+schoolroom, where an irregular verb, some geography, and some dates awaited her.</p>
+<p>Then followed another rush of the populace for the evening meal of the live
+stock, but in this Dolores was too wary to share. She made her way up to her
+retreat again, and tried to lose the sense of her trouble and loneliness in a
+book. Then came the warning bell, and a prodigious scuffling, racing and
+chasing, accompanied by yells as of terror and roars as of victory, all cut
+short by the growls of Mrs. Halfpenny. Everything then subsided. The world was
+dressing; Dolores dressed too, feeling hurt and forlorn at no one's coming to
+help her, and yet worried when Mysie arrived with orders from Mrs. Halfpenny to
+come to her to have her sash tied.</p>
+<p>'I think a servant ought to come to me. Caroline always does,' said the only
+daughter with dignity.</p>
+<p>'She can't, for she is putting Primrose to bed. Oh, it's so delicious to see
+Prim in her bath,' said Mysie, with a little skip. 'Make haste, or we shall miss
+her, the darling.'</p>
+<p>Dolores did not feel pressed to behold the spectacle, and not being in the
+habit of dressing without assistance, she was tardy, and Mysie fidgeted about
+and nearly distracted her. Thus, when she reached the nursery, Primrose was
+already in her little white bed-gown, and was being incited by Valetta to caper
+about on her cot, like a little acrobat, as her sisters said, while Mrs.
+Halfpenny declared that 'they were making the child that rampageous, she should
+not get her to sleep till midnight.'</p>
+<p>They would have been turned out much sooner, and Primrose hushed into
+silence, if nurse's soul had not been horrified by the state of Dolores' hair
+and the general set of her garments.</p>
+<p>'My certie!' she exclaimed--a dreadful exclamation in the eyes of the family,
+who knew it implied that in all her experience Mrs. Halfpenny had never known
+the like! And taking Dolores by the hand, she led the wrathful and indignant
+girl back into her bedroom, untied and tied, unbuttoned and buttoned, brushed
+and combed in spite of the second bell ringing, the general scamper, and the
+sudden apparition of Mysie and Val, whom she bade run away and tell her
+leddyship that 'Miss Mohoone should come as soon as she was sorted, but she
+ought to come up early to have her hair looked to, for 'twas shame to see how
+thae fine London servants sorted a motherless bairn.'</p>
+<p>Dolores felt herself insulted; she turned red all over, with feelings the old
+Scotchwoman could not understand. She expected to hear the message roared out to
+the whole assembly round the tea-table, but Mysie had discretion enough to
+withhold her sister from making it public.</p>
+<p>The tea itself, though partaken of by Lady Merrifield, seemed an indignity to
+the young lady accustomed to late dinners. After it, the whole family played at
+'dumb crambo.' Dolores was invited to join, and instructed to 'do the thing you
+think it is;' but she was entirely unused to social games, and thought it only
+ridiculous and stupid when the word being a rhyme to ite, Fergus gave rather too
+real a blow to Wilfred, and Gillian answered, ''Tis not smite;' Wilfred held out
+a hand, and was told, ''Tis not right;' Val flourished in the air as if holding
+a string, and was informed that 'kite' was wrong; when Hal ran away as if
+pursued by Fergus by way of flight; and Mysie performed antics which she was
+finally obliged to explain were those of a sprite. Dolores could not recollect
+anything, and only felt annoyed at being made to feel stupid by such nonsense,
+when Mysie tried to make her a present of a suggestion by pointing to the back
+of a letter. Neither write nor white would come into her head, though little
+Fergus signalized himself, just before he was swept off to bed, by seizing a pen
+and making strokes!</p>
+<p>After his departure, Lady Merrifield read aloud 'The Old oak Staircase,'
+which had been kept to begin when Dolores came, Hal taking the book in turn with
+his mother. And so ended Dolores' first day of banishment.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER V.<br>
+THE FIRST WALK</h3>
+
+<p>'What a lot of letters for you, mamma!' cried Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Papa!' exclaimed Fergus and Primrose.</p>
+<p>'No, it is not the right day, my dears. But here is a letter from Aunt Ada.'</p>
+<p>'Oh!' in a different tone.</p>
+<p>'She writes for Aunt Jane. They will come down here next Monday because Aunt
+Jane is wanted to address the girls at the G.F.S. festival on Tuesday.'</p>
+<p>'Aunt Jane seems to have taken to public speaking,' said Harry. 'It would be
+rather a lark to hear her.'</p>
+<p>'You may have a chance,' said Lady Merrifield, 'for here is a note from Mrs.
+Blackburn to ask if I will be so very kind as to let them have the festival
+here. They had reckoned upon Tillington Park, where they have always had it
+before, but they hear that all the little Tillingtons have the measles, and they
+don't think it safe to venture there.'</p>
+<p>'It will be great fun!' said Gillian. 'We will have all sorts of games, only
+I'm afraid they will be much stupider than the Irish girls.'</p>
+<p>'And ever so much stupider than the dear 111th children,' sighed Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Aren't they all great big girls?' asked Valetta, disconsolately.</p>
+<p>'I believe twelve years old is the limit,' said her mother. 'Twelve-year-old
+girls have plenty of play in them, Vals, haven't they, Mysie? Let me see--two
+hundred and thirty of them.'</p>
+<p>'For you to feast?' asked Harry.</p>
+<p>'Oh, no--that cost comes out of their own funds, Mrs. Blackburn takes care to
+tell me, and Miss Hacket will find some one in Siverfold who will provide tables
+and forms and crockery. I must go down and talk to Miss Hacket as soon as
+lessons are over. Or perhaps it would save time and trouble if I wrote and asked
+her to come up to luncheon and see the capabilities of the place. Why, what's
+the matter?' pausing at the blank looks.</p>
+<p>'The jam, mamma--the blackberry jam!' cried Valetta.</p>
+<p>'Well?'</p>
+<p>'We can't do it without Gill, and she will have to be after that Miss
+Constance,' explained Val.</p>
+<p>'Oh! never mind. She won't stay all the afternoon,' said Gillian, cheerfully.
+'Luncheon people don't.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but then there will be lessons to be learnt.'</p>
+<p>'Look here, Val,' said Gillian, 'if you and Mysie will learn your lessons for
+tomorrow while I'm bound to Miss Con., I'll do mine some time in the evening,
+and be free for the jam when she is gone.'</p>
+<p>'The dear delicious jam!' cried Val, springing about upon her chair; and Lady
+Merrifield further said--</p>
+<p>'I wonder whether Mysie and Dolores would like to take the note down. They
+could bring back a message by word of mouth.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, thank you, mamma!' cried Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Then I will write the note as soon as we have done breakfast. Don't dawdle,
+Fergus boy.'</p>
+<p>'Mayn't I go?' demanded Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'No, my dear. It is your morning with Mr. Poulter. And you must take care not
+to come back later than eleven, Mysie dear; I cannot have him kept waiting.
+Dolores, do you like to go?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, please,' said Dolores, partly because it was at any rate gain to escape
+from that charity-school lesson in the morning, and partly because Valetta was
+looking at her in the ardent hope that she would refuse the privilege of the
+walk, and it therefore became valuable; but there was so little alacrity in her
+voice that her aunt asked her whether she were quite rested and really liked the
+walk, which would be only half a mile to the outskirts of the town.</p>
+<p>Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, and replied that she was
+quite well, and didn't mind.</p>
+<p>So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were sent off to get ready, while
+Aunt Lilias wrote her note in pencil at the corner of the table, which she never
+left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their meal; but she had to
+silence a storm at the 'didn't mind'--Gillian even venturing to ask how she
+could send one to whom it was evidently no pleasure to go. 'I think she likes it
+more than she shows,' said the mother, 'and she wants air, and will settle to
+her lessons the better for it. What's that, Val?'</p>
+<p>'It was my turn, mamma,' said Valetta, in an injured voice.</p>
+<p>'It will be your turn next, Val,' said her mother, cheerfully. 'Dolores comes
+between you and Mysie, so she must take her place accordingly. And today we
+grant her the privilege of the new-comer.'</p>
+<p>Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, while she was going
+upstairs to put on her hat, the recollection had not occurred to her of one of
+the victim's of an aunt's cruelty who was always made to run on errands while
+her favoured cousins were at their studies. Was this the beginning? Somehow,
+though her better sense knew this was a foolish fancy, she had a secret pleasure
+in pitying herself, and posing to herself as a persecuted heroine. And then she
+was greatly fretted to find the housemaid in her room, looking as if no one else
+had any business there. What was worse, she could not find her jacket. She
+pulled out all her drawers with fierce, noisy jerks, and then turned round on
+the maid, sharply demanding--</p>
+<p>'Who has taken my jacket?'</p>
+<p>'I'm sure I don't know, Miss Dollars. You'd best ask Mrs. Halfpenny.'</p>
+<p>'If--' but at that moment Mysie ran in, holding the jacket in her hand. 'I
+saw it in the nursery,' she said, triumphantly. 'Nurse had taken it to mend!
+Come along. Where's your hat?'</p>
+<p>But there was pursuit; Mrs. Halfpenny was at the door. 'Young ladies, you are
+not going out of the policy in that fashion.'</p>
+<p>'Mamma sent us. Mamma wants us to take a note in a hurry. Only to Miss
+Hacket,' pleaded Mysie, as Mrs. Halfpenny laid violent hands on her brown
+Holland jacket, observing--</p>
+<p>'My leddy never bade ye run off mair like a wild worricow than a general
+officer's daughter, Miss Mysie. What's that? Only Miss Hacket, do you say? You
+should respect yourself and them you come of mair than to show yourself to a
+blind beetle in an unbecoming way. 'Tis well that there's one in the house that
+knows what is befitting. Miss Dollars, you stand still; I must sort your necktie
+before you go. 'Tis all of a wisp. Miss Mysie, you tell your mamma that I should
+be fain to know her pleasure about Miss Dollars' frocks. She've scarce got
+one--coloured or mourning--that don't want altering.'</p>
+<p>Mrs. Halfpenny always caused Dolores such extreme astonishment and awe that
+she obeyed her instantly, but to be turned about and tidied by an authoritative
+hand was extremely disagreeable to the independent young lady. Caroline had
+never treated her thus, being more willing to permit untidiness than to endure
+her temper. She only durst, after the pair were released, remonstrate with Mysie
+on being termed Miss Dollars.</p>
+<p>'They can't make out your name,' said Mysie. 'I tried to teach Lois, but
+nurse said she had no notion of new-fangled nonsense names.'</p>
+<p>'I'm sure Valetta and Primrose are worse.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! but Val was born at Malta, and mamma had always loved the Grand Master
+La Valetta so much, and had written verses about him when she was only sixteen.
+And Primrose was named after the first primrose mamma had seen for twelve
+years--the first one Val and I had ever seen.'</p>
+<p>'They called me Miss Mohun at home.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but we can't here, because of Aunt Jane.'</p>
+<p>All this was chattered forth on the stairs before the two girls reached the
+dining-room, where Mysie committed the feeding of her pets to Val, and received
+the note, with fresh injunctions to come home by eleven, and bring word whether
+Miss Hacket and Miss Constance would both come to luncheon.</p>
+<p>'Oh dear!' sighed Gillian, and there was a general groan round the table.</p>
+<p>'It can't be helped, my dear.'</p>
+<p>'Oh no, I know it can't,' said Gillian, resignedly.</p>
+<p>'You see,' said Mysie. 'Yes, come along, Basto dear. You see Gill has to
+be--down, Basto, I say!--a young lady when-- Never mind him, Dolores, he won't
+hurt. When Miss Constance Hacket and--leave her alone, Basto, I say!--and she is
+such a goose. Not you, Dolores, but Miss Constance.'</p>
+<p>'Oh that dog! I wish you would not take him.'</p>
+<p>'Not take dear old Basto! Why 'tis such a treat for him to get a walk in the
+morning--the delight of his jolly old black heart. Isn't he a dear old fellow?
+and he never hurt anybody in his life! It's only setting off! He will quiet down
+in a minute; but I couldn't disappoint him. Could I, my old man?'</p>
+<p>Never having lived with animals nor entered into their feelings, Dolores
+could not understand how a dog's pleasure could be preferred to her comfort, and
+felt a good deal hurt, though Basto's antics subsided as soon as they were past
+the inner gate shutting in the garden from the paddock, which was let out to a
+farmer. Mysie, however, ran on as usual with her stream of information--</p>
+<p>'The Miss Hacket were sister or daughters or something to some old man who
+used to be clergyman here, and they are all married up but these two, and
+they've got the dearest little house you ever saw. They had a nephew in the
+111th, and so they came and called on us at once. Miss Hacket is a regular old
+dear, but we none of us can bear Miss Constance, except that mamma says we ought
+to be sorry for her because she leads such a confined life. Miss Hacket and Aunt
+Jane always do go on so about the G.F.S. They both are branch secretaries, you
+know.'</p>
+<p>'I know! Aunt Jane did bother Mrs. Sefton so that she says she will never
+have another of those G.F.S. girls. She says it is a society for interference.'</p>
+<p>'Mamma likes it,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Oh! but she is only just come.'</p>
+<p>'Yes; but she always looked after the school children at Beechcroft before
+she married, and she and Alethea and Phyllis had the soldiers' children up on
+Sunday. Alethea taught the little drummer boys, and they were so funny. I wonder
+who teaches them now! Gill always goes down to help Miss Hacket with her G.F.S.
+classes. She has one on Sunday afternoon, and one on Tuesday for sewing, and she
+is the only young lady in the place who can do plain needlework properly.'</p>
+<p>'Sewing-machines can work. What the use of fussing about it!'</p>
+<p>'They can't mend,' said Mysie. 'Besides, do you know, in the American war,
+all the sewing-machines in the Southern States got out of order, and as all the
+machinery people were in the north, the poor ladies didn't know what to do, and
+couldn't work without them.'</p>
+<p>'Sewing-machines are a recent invention,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Oh! you didn't think I meant the great old War of Independence. No, I meant
+the war about the slaves--secession they called it.'</p>
+<p>'That is not in the history of England,' said Dolores, as if Mysie had no
+business to look beyond.</p>
+<p>'Why! of course not, when it happened in America. Papa told us about it. He
+read it in some paper, I think. Don't you like learning things in that way?'</p>
+<p>'No. I don't approve of irregular unsystematic knowledge.'</p>
+<p>Dolores has heard her mother say something of this kind, and it came into her
+head most opportunely as a defence of her father--for she would not for the
+world have confessed that he did not talk to her as Sir Jasper Merrifield seemed
+to have done to his children. In fact she rather despised the General for so
+doing.</p>
+<p>'Oh! but it is such fun picking up things out of lesson time!' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'That is the Edge--,' Dolores was not sure of the word Edgeworthian, so she
+went on to 'system. Professor Sefton says he does not approve of harassing
+children with cramming them with irregular information at all sorts of times.
+Let play be play and lessons be lessons, he says, not mixed up together, and so
+Rex and Maude never learnt anything--not a letter--till they were seven years
+old.'</p>
+<p>'How stupid!' cried Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Maude's not stupid!' cried Dolores, 'nor the professor either! She's my
+great friend.'</p>
+<p>'I didn't say she was stupid,' said Mysie, apologetically, 'only that it must
+be very stupid not to be able to read till one was seven. Could you?'</p>
+<p>'Oh, yes. I can't remember when I couldn't read. But Maude used to play with
+a little girl who could read and talk French at five years old, and she died of
+water upon her brain.'</p>
+<p>'Dear me! Primrose can read quite well,' said Mysie, somewhat alarmed; 'but
+then,' she went on in a reassured voice, 'so could all of us except Jasper and
+Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibraltar that they were quite stupid
+while they were there.'</p>
+<p>This discussion brought the two girls across the paddock out into a road with
+a broad, neat footpath, where numerous little children were being exercised with
+nurses and perambulators. At first it was bordered by fields on either side, but
+villas soon began to spring up, and presently the girls reached what looked like
+a long, low 'cottage residence,' but was really two, with a verandah along the
+front, and a garden divided in the middle by a paling covered with canary
+nasturtium shrubs. The verandah on one side was hung with a rich purple pall of
+the dark clematis, on the other by a Gloire de Dijon rose. There were bright
+flower beds, and the dormer windows over the verandah looked like smiling eyes
+under their deep brows of creeper-trimmed verge-board. What London-bred Dolores
+saw was a sight that shocked her--a lady standing unbonnetted just beyond the
+verandah, talking to a girl whose black hat and jacket looked what Mysie called
+'very G.F.S.-y.'</p>
+<p>The lady did not turn out to be young or beautiful. She was near middle age,
+and looked as if she were far too busy to be ever plump; she had a very
+considerable amount of nose and rather thin, dark hair, done in a fashion which,
+like that of her navy blue linen dress, looked perfectly antiquated to Dolores.
+As she saw the two girls at the gate she came down the path eagerly to welcome
+them.</p>
+<p>'Ah! my dear Mysie! so kind of your dear mother! I thought I should hear from
+her.' And as she kissed Mysie, she added, 'And this is the new cousin. My dear,
+I am glad to see you here.'</p>
+<p>Dolores thought her own dignified manner had kept off a kiss, not knowing
+that Miss Hacket was far too ladylike to be over-familiar, and that there was no
+need to put on such a forbidding look.</p>
+<p>Mysie gave her message and note, but Miss Hacket could not give the verbal
+answer at once till she had consulted her sister. She was not sure whether
+Constance had not made an engagement to play lawn-tennis, so they must come in.</p>
+<p>There sounded 'coo-roo-oo coo-roo-oo' in the verandah, and Mysie cried--</p>
+<p>'Oh, the dear doves!'</p>
+<p>Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them when the G.F.S. girl arrived,
+and as Mysie came to a halt in delight at the aspect of a young one that had
+just crept out into public life, the sister was called to the window. She was a
+great deal younger and more of the present day in style than her sister, and had
+pensive-looking grey eyes, with a somewhat bored languid manner as she shook
+hands with the early visitors.</p>
+<p>The sisters had a little consultation over the note, during which Dolores
+studied them, and Mysie studied the doves, longing to see the curious process of
+feeding the young ones.</p>
+<p>When Miss Hacket turned back to her with the acceptance of the invitation,
+she thought she might wait just to help Miss Hacket to put in the corn and the
+sop. Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Did you arrive yesterday?'</p>
+<p>'No, the day before.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! it must be a great change to you.'</p>
+<p>'Indeed it is.'</p>
+<p>'This must be the dullest place in England, I think,' said Miss Constance.
+'No variety, no advantages of any kind! And have not you lived in London?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'That is my ambition! I once spent six weeks in London, and it was an
+absolute revelation--the opening of another world. And I understand that Mr.
+Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that you saw a great deal of his
+friends.'</p>
+<p>'I used,' said Dolores, thinking of those days of her mother when she was the
+pet and plaything of the guests, incited to say clever and pert things, which
+then were passed round and embellished till she neither knew them nor
+comprehended them.</p>
+<p>'That is what I pine for!' exclaimed Miss Constance. 'Nobody here has any
+ideas. You can't conceive how borne and prejudiced every one her who is used to
+something better! Don't you love art needlework?'</p>
+<p>'Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey Gander on a toilet-cover.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! how sweet! We never get any new patterns here! Do come in and see, I
+don't know which to take; I brought three beginnings home to choose from, and I
+am quite undecided.'</p>
+<p>'Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns,' said Dolores. 'Something she gets ideas
+from Lorenzo Dellman--he's an artist, you know, and a regular aesthete! He made
+her do a dado all sunflowers last year, but they are a little gone out now, and
+are very staring besides, and I think she will have some nymphs dancing among
+almond-trees in blue vases instead, as soon as she has designed it.'</p>
+<p>'Isn't that lovely! Oh! what would I not give for such opportunities? Do let
+me have your opinion.'</p>
+<p>So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three patterns, one of tall
+daisies; another of odd-looking doves, one on each side of a red Etruscan vase,
+where the water must have been as much out of their reach as that in the pitcher
+was beyond the crow's; and a third, of Little Bo Peep. Having given her opinion
+in favour of Bo Peep, she was taken upstairs to inspect the young lady's store
+of crewels, and choose the colours.</p>
+<p>Dolores neither knew nor cared anything about fancy work, but to be treated
+as an authority was quite soothing, and she fully believed that the mere
+glimpses she had had of Mrs. Sefton's work and the shop windows, enabled her to
+give great enlightenment to this poor country mouse; so she gladly went to the
+bedroom, with a muslin-worked toilet-cover, embroidered curtains, plates
+fastened against the wall, and table all over knick-knacks, which Miss Constance
+called her little den, where she could study beauty after her own bent, while
+her sister Mary was wholly engrossed with the useful, and could endure nothing
+but the prose of the last century.</p>
+<p>Meantime Mysie had forgotten how time flew in her belief that in one minute
+more the young doves would want to be fed, and then in amusement at seeing them
+pursue their parents with low squeaks and flutterings, watching, too, the airs
+and graces, bowing, cooing, and laughing of the old ones. When at last she was
+startled by hearing eleven struck, there had to be a great hunt for Dolores in
+the drawing-room and garden, and when at last Miss Hacket's calls for her sister
+brought the tow downstairs more than ten minutes had passed! Mysie was too much
+dismayed, and in too great a hurry to do anything but cry, 'Come along,
+Dolores,' and set off at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner, even when
+Mysie recollected that it was too public a place for running, and slackened her
+pace. Dolores was soon gasping, and with a stitch in her side. Mysie would have
+exclaimed, 'What were you doing with Miss Constance?' but breathlessness happily
+prevented it. The way across the paddock seemed endless, and Mysie was chafed at
+having to hold back for her companion, who panted in distress, leant against a
+tree, declared she could not go on, she did not care, and then when, Mysie set
+off running, was seized with fright at being left alone in this vast unknown
+space, cried after her and made a rush, soon ending in sobbing breath.</p>
+<p>At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just coming out of the dining-room
+greeted them with, 'A quarter to twelve. Won't you catch it? Oh my!'</p>
+<p>'Are they come?' said Lady Merrifield, looking out of the schoolroom. 'My
+dear children! Did Miss Hacket keep you?'</p>
+<p>'No, mamma,' gasped Mysie. 'At least it was my fault for watching the doves.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message next time. Mr. Poulter has been
+waiting these twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit to take a lesson
+now. Dolores looks quite done up! I shall send you both to lie down on your beds
+and learn your poetry for an hour. And you must write an apology to Mr. Poulter
+this afternoon. No, don't go in now. Go up at once, Gillian shall bring your
+books. Does Miss Hacket come?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, mamma,' said Mysie humbly, looking at Dolores all the time. She was too
+generous to say that part of the delay had been caused by looking for her
+cousin, and having to adapt her pace to the slower one, but she decidedly
+expected the avowal from Dolores, and thought it mean not to make it. 'And, oh,
+the jam!' she mourned as she went upstairs. While, on the other hand, Dolores
+considered what she called 'being sent to bed' an unmerited and unjust sentence
+given without a hearing; when their tardiness had been all Mysie's fault, not
+hers. She had no notion that her aunt only sent them to lie down, because they
+looked heated, tired, and spent, and was really letting them off their morning's
+lessons. It was a pity that she felt too forlorn and sullen even to complain
+when Gillian brought up Macaulay's 'Armada' for her to learn the first twelve
+lines, or she might have come to an understanding, but all that was elicited
+from her was a glum 'No,' when asked if she knew it already. Gillian told her
+not to keep her dusty boots on the bed, and she vouchsafed no answer, for she
+did not consider Gillian her mistress, though, after she was left to herself,
+she found them so tight and hot that she took them off. Then she looked over the
+verses rather contemptuously--she who always learnt German poetry; and she had a
+great mind to assert her independence by getting off the bed, and writing a
+letter to Maude Sefton, describing the narrow stupidity of the whole family, and
+how her aunt, without hearing her, had send her to be for Mysie's fault. However
+she felt so shaky and tired that she thought she had better rest a little first,
+and somehow she fell fast asleep, and was only awakened by the gong. She jumped
+up in haste, recollecting that the delightful sympathizing Miss Constance was
+coming to luncheon, and set her hair and dress to rights eagerly, observing,
+however, to herself, that her horrid aunt was quite capable of imprisoning her
+all the time for not having learnt that stupid poetry.</p>
+<p>She hesitated a little where to go when she reached the hall, but the
+schoolroom door was open, and she heard a mournful voice concluding with a
+gasp--</p>
+<p>'Our glorious semper eadem, the banner of our pride.'</p>
+<p>And Miss Vincent saying, 'Now, my dear, go and wash your face, and try not to
+be such a dismal spectacle.'</p>
+<p>And then Mysie came out, with heavy eyes and a mottled face, showing that she
+had been crying all the time she had been learning, over her own fault
+certainly, but likewise over mamma's displeasure and Dolly's shabbiness.</p>
+<p>'Well, Dora,' said Miss Vincent, 'have you come to repeat your poetry?'</p>
+<p>'No,' said Dolores. 'I went to sleep instead.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! I'm glad of that. I wish poor Mysie had done the same. I believe it was
+what Lady Merrifield intended, you both looked so knocked up.'</p>
+<p>Dolores cleared up a little at this, especially as Miss Vincent was no
+relation, and she thought it a good time to make her protest against mere
+English.</p>
+<p>'Oh!' she said. 'I supposed that was the reason she gave me such a stupid,
+childish, sing-song nursery rhyme to learn. I can say lots of Schiller and some
+Goethe.'</p>
+<p>'I advise you not to let any one hear you call Lord Macaulay's poem a nursery
+rhyme, or it might never be forgotten,' said Miss Vincent gaily. Then seeing the
+cloud return to Dolores's face, she added, 'You have been brought forward in
+German, I see. We must try to bring your knowledge of English literature up to
+be even with it.'</p>
+<p>Dolores liked this better than anything she had yet heard, chiefly because
+she had learnt from her books that governesses were not uniformly so cruel as
+aunts. And besides, she felt that she had been spared a public humiliation.</p>
+<p>By this time the guests were ringing at the door, and Miss Vincent, with her
+had on, only waiting till their entrance was made to depart. Dolores asked
+whether to go into the drawing-room, and was told that Lady Merrifield preferred
+that the children should only appear in the dining-room on the sound of the
+gong, which was not long in being heard.</p>
+<p>The Merrifields were trained not to chatter when there was company at table,
+besides Mysie and Val were in low spirits about the chance of the blackberry
+cookery. Miss Hacket sat on one side of Lady Merrifield, and talked about what
+associates had answered her letters, and what villages would send contingents of
+girls, and it sounded very dull to the young people. Miss Constance was next to
+Hal. She looked amiable and sympathetic at Dolores on the opposite side of the
+table, but discussed lawn-tennis tournaments with her neighbour, which was quite
+as little interesting to the general public as was the G.F.S. However, as soon
+as Primrose had said grace, Lady Merrifield proposed to take Miss Hacket down to
+the stable-yard; and the whole train followed excepting the two girls, who
+trusted Hal to see whether their pets would suffer inconvenience. However it
+soon was made evident to Gillian that she was not wanted, and that Dolores and
+Constance had no notion of wandering about the paved courts and bare
+coach-houses, among the dogs and cats, guinea-pigs, and fowls. Indeed,
+Constance, who was at least seven years older than Gillian, and a full-blown
+young lady, dismissed her by saying 'that she was going to see Miss Mohun's
+books.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, certainly,' said Gillian, in a voice as though she were rather
+surprised, though much relieved.</p>
+<p>So off the friends went together--for of course they were to be friends. The
+Miss Mohun had been uttered in a tone that clearly meant to be asked to drop it,
+so they were to be Dolores and Constance henceforth, if not Dolly and Cons.
+Dolores was such a lovely name that Constance could not mangle it, and was sure
+there was some reason for it. The girl had, in fact, been named after a Spanish
+lady, whom her mother had known and admired in early girlhood, and to whom she
+had made a promise of naming her first daughter after her. No doubt Dolores did
+not know that Mrs. Mohun had regretted the childish promise which she had felt
+bound to keep in spite of her husband's dislike to the name, which he declared
+would be a misfortune to the child.</p>
+<p>Dolores was really proud of its peculiarity, and delighted to have any one to
+sympathize with her, in that and a great deal besides, which she communicated to
+her new friend in the window-seat of her room. When the two ladies went home,
+Constance told her sister that 'dear little Dolores was a remarkable character,
+sadly misunderstood among those common-place people, the Merrifields, and
+unjustly used, too, and she should do her best for her!'</p>
+<p>Meantime Gillian, finding herself not wanted, had repaired to the schoolroom.</p>
+<p>'Oh, it is of no use,' sighed Mysie, disconsolately. 'I've ever so much
+morning's work to make up, too. And I never shall! I've muzzled my head!'</p>
+<p>By which remarkable expression Mysie signified that fatigue, crying, and
+dinner had made her brains dull and heavy; but Gillian was a sensible elder
+sister.</p>
+<p>'Don't try your sum yet, then,' she said. 'Practise your scales for half an
+hour, while I do my algebra, and then we'll go over your German verbs together.
+I'll tell Miss Vincent, and she wont' mind, and I think mamma will be pleased if
+you try.'</p>
+<p>Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able to work an equation, and
+prepare her Virgil, to the sound of scales, and Mysie was a good deal restored
+by them and by hope.</p>
+<p>So when at length Constance had been summoned by her sister, who tore herself
+away from the arrangements, being bound to five-o'clock tea elsewhere, Mysie was
+discovered with a face still rather woe-begone, but hopeful and persevering, and
+though there still was a 'bill of parcels' where 11 and 3/4 lbs. of mutton at 13
+and 1/2d. per lb. refused to come right, Lady Merrifield kissed her, said she
+had been a diligent child, and sent her off prancing in bliss to the old
+'still-room' stove, where they were allowed a fire, basins, spoons, and
+strainers, and where the sugar lay in a snowy heap, and the blackberries in a
+sanguine pile.</p>
+<p>'There's partiality!' thought Dolores, and scowled, as she stood at the front
+door still gazing after Constance.</p>
+<p>'Won't you come, Dolly?' said Mysie. 'Or haven't you learnt your lessons?'</p>
+<p>'No,' said Dolly, making one answer serve for both questions.</p>
+<p>'Oh! then you can't. Shall I ask mamma to let you off?'</p>
+<p>'No, I don't care. I don't like messes! And what's the use if you haven't a
+cookery class?'</p>
+<p>'It's such fun,' said Val.</p>
+<p>'And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin and taught Gill,' added
+Mysie.</p>
+<p>'But if you haven't done your lessons, you can't go,' said Valetta decidedly.</p>
+<p>Off they went, and Lady Merrifield presently crossed the hall, and saw
+Dolores' attitude.</p>
+<p>'My dear, are you waiting to say those verses?' she said kindly.</p>
+<p>'I hadn't time to learn them, I went to sleep,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'A very good thing too, my dear. Suppose we go over them together.'</p>
+<p>Aunt Lilias took the unwilling hand, led Dolores into the schoolroom, and for
+half an hour she went over the verses with her, explaining what was new to the
+girl, and vividly describing the agitation of Plymouth, and the flocks of people
+thronging in. 'I must show her that I will be minded, but I will make it
+pleasant to her, poor child,' she thought.</p>
+<p>And it could not have been otherwise than pleasant to her, but that she was
+reflecting all this time that she was being punished while Mysie was enjoying
+herself. Therefore she put the lid on her intellect, and was inconceivably
+stupid.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER VI.<br>
+PERSECUTION</h3>
+
+<p>On Monday afternoon Dolores was sitting at the end of the long garden walk,
+upon a green garden-bench, with a crocodile's head and tail roughly carved. The
+shouts of the others were audible in the distance beyond the belt of trees. Aunt
+Lily had driven into the town to meet her sisters, taking Fergus with her,
+whereas Dolores had never been out in the carriage. There was partiality!
+Though, to be sure, Fergus was to have a tooth out! Harry and Gillian were
+playing with the rest, and she had been invited to join, but she had made answer
+that she hated romping, and on being assured that no romping was necessary, she
+replied that she only wanted to read in peace. She had refused the &quot;Thorn
+Fortress,' which she was told would explain the game, and had hunted out
+&quot;Clare, or No Home,' to compare her lot with that of the homeless one.</p>
+<p>Certainly, she had not yet been sent to bed with a box on the ear because a
+countess had shown symptoms of noticing her more than her ugly, over-dressed
+cousin. But then Aunt Lily would not allow her to walk down alone to the
+Casement Villas to see dear Constance, and would let that farmer keep all those
+dreadful cows in the paddock, so that even going escorted was a terror to her.</p>
+<p>Nor had her handsome mourning been taken from her and old clothes of her
+cousin substituted for it. No, but she had been cruelly pulled about between
+Mrs. Halfpenny and the Silverton dressmaker with a mouthful of pins; and Aunt
+Lily had insisted on her dress being trimmed with velvet, instead of the
+jingling jet she preferred.</p>
+<p>Did they intercept her letters? She had had one from her father, sent from
+Falmouth, but only one from Maude Sefton in ten days! Moreover, she had one from
+Constance in her apron pocket, arrived that very afternoon, asking her to come
+down with Gillian on the Sundays, that the friends might enjoy themselves
+together while the classes were going on; but she made sure that all were so
+jealous of her friendship with Constance that no consent would be given.</p>
+<p>She did not hear or notice the whisperings in the laurels behind her--</p>
+<p>'Do you see that sulky old Croat, smoking his pipe under the tree?'</p>
+<p>'No, he is a Black Brunswicker.'</p>
+<p>'Nonsense, Willie; the Black Brunswickers weren't till Bonaparte's time.'</p>
+<p>'I don't care, he is anything black and nasty; here goes!'</p>
+<p>'Oh stop; don't shoot. I believe he is only a vivandiere. Besides, it's
+treacherous--'</p>
+<p>'I tell you he is laying a train to blow up the tower. There!'</p>
+<p>An arrow struck the bench beside Dolores, who, more angry than she had ever
+been in her life, snatched it up, unheeding that it had no point to speak of,
+rushed headlong in pursuit, while, with a tremendous shout, Valetta and Wilfred
+flew before her to a waste overgrown place at the end of the kitchen garden.</p>
+<p>'We've shot a Croat!'</p>
+<p>'No, a Black Brunswicker.'</p>
+<p>'Oh ah! They are coming--the enemy! Into the fortress! Bar the wolf's
+passage!'</p>
+<p>And as Dolores struggled through the bushes, she saw the whole family dashing
+into an outhouse, and the door slammed. She pushed against it, but an unearthly
+compound of howls, yells, shouts and bangs replied.</p>
+<p>'Gillian! Harry, I say,' she cried in great anger; 'come out, I want to speak
+to you.'</p>
+<p>But her voice was lost in the war-whoops within, and the louder she knocked,
+the louder grew the din, till she walked off, swelling with grief and
+indignation. Mysie, after all her professions of friendship, to use her in this
+way! And Harry and Gillian, who should have kept the others within bounds!</p>
+<p>Slowly she crossed the lawn, just as Lady Merrifield, the other two aunts,
+and Fergus, all came out from the glass door of the drawing-room. Aunt Jane, a
+trim little dark-eyed woman, looking at two and forty much the same as she might
+have done at five and twenty; and Aunt Adeline, pretty and delicately fair, with
+somewhat of the same grace as Lady Merrifield, but more languor, and an air as
+if everything about her were for effect. Though not specially fond of theses
+aunts, Dolores was glad to have them as witnesses of her ill-usage.</p>
+<p>'There stands Dolly, like a statue of Diana, dart in hand,' exclaimed Aunt
+Adeline.</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Dolores; 'I wish to know, Aunt Lilias, if Wilfred and Valetta are
+to call me names, and shoot arrows at me?'</p>
+<p>'What do you mean, my dear?'</p>
+<p>'They came at me while I was sitting quietly reading--there--and shot at me,
+and called me such horrid names I can't repeat them, and ran away. Then the
+others, Gillian and Harry and all, would not listen to me, but shut themselves
+up in an out-house and shouted at me.'</p>
+<p>'I think there must be some mistake, Dolores,' said her aunt. 'Where are
+they?'</p>
+<p>'Out beyond there,' said Dolores, pointing in the direction in which Fergus
+was running.</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield set off with her, and the other two ladies followed more
+slowly.</p>
+<p>'I thought it would not do,' said Aunt Jane.</p>
+<p>'Lily's children are so rough,' added Aunt Adeline.</p>
+<p>'I am not so sure that the fault is theirs,' was the reply. 'She is a
+priggish little puss, who wants shaking up.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! here come the hordes,' sighed Adeline, shrinking a little, as the entire
+population, summoned by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the advancing mother.</p>
+<p>'How is this, Wilfred? Have you been shooting arrows at your cousin?'</p>
+<p>'Mama!' cried Valetta, indignantly, 'he did not shoot at her; he only
+pretended, and shot the old crocodile-bench. He never meant any more. It was
+only play.'</p>
+<p>'Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the direction of any person?'</p>
+<p>'Nor I didn't!' said Wilfred. 'I only shot the crocodile. I never tried to
+hit her. She is quite big enough to miss.'</p>
+<p>'And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma,' added Valetta. 'We were scouts
+out of the Thorn Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly dodge to steal
+upon one of the enemy.'</p>
+<p>'You should have warned her.'</p>
+<p>Then it would not have been a surprise,' said Val, seriously.</p>
+<p>'Was she not at play with you?'</p>
+<p>'No, mamma,' said Mysie. 'We asked her, and she would not. I say,' pausing in
+consternation, 'Dolores, was it you that came and called at the door of the
+Wolf's passage?'</p>
+<p>'Of course. I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred behaved to me.'</p>
+<p>I thought it was Fergus come home to be the enemy.'</p>
+<p>'Didn't you know her voice?' asked the mother</p>
+<p>'We were all making such a noise ourselves in the dark,' said Gillian, 'that
+there was no hearing any one; and Primrose was rather frightened, so that Hal
+was attending to her. Indeed, Dolores, I am very sorry. If we had guessed that
+it was you, we would have opened the door at once, and then you would have known
+that it was all fun and play, and not have troubled mamma about it.'</p>
+<p>'Wilfred and Valetta knew,' said Dolores, rather sullenly.</p>
+<p>'Oh! but it was such fun,' said Val.</p>
+<p>'It was fun that became unkindness on your part,' said her mother. 'You ought
+not to have kept it up without warning to her. And what do I hear about names? I
+hope that was also misunderstanding of the game. What did you call her?'</p>
+<p>'Only a Croat,' said Valetta, indignantly, 'and a Black Brunswicker.'</p>
+<p>'Was that it, Dolores?'</p>
+<p>'Perhaps,' she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh from her Aunt Jane.</p>
+<p>'I do not know what you took them for,' said Lady Merrifield, 'but you see
+some part of this trouble arose from a mistake on you part. Now, Wilfred and
+Valetta, remember that is not right to force a person into play against her
+will. And as to the shooting near, but not at her, you both know perfectly well
+that it is forbidden. So give me your bow, Wilfred. I shall keep it for a week,
+that you may remember obedience.'</p>
+<p>Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed. Dolores could not call her aunt unjust,
+but as she look round, she met glances that made her think it prudent to shelter
+herself among the elders. Aunt Jane asked what the game was.</p>
+<p>'The Thorn Fortress,' said Gillian. 'It comes out of that delightful S.P.C.K.
+book so called, where, in the 'Thirty Years' War,' all the people of a village
+took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the middle of a forest guarded by a
+tremendous hedge of thorns. Val had it for a birthday present, and the children
+have been acting it ever since.'</p>
+<p>'It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, which used to be a regular
+stage in these children's lives. Every voyage we have taken, somebody has come
+to ask whether there was any hope of being wrecked on one.'</p>
+<p>'Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition,' observed Harry.</p>
+<p>On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five o'clock tea in the
+drawing-room, the juniors to gouter in the dining-room. As Dolores entered, she
+beheld a row of all her five younger cousins drawn up looking at her as if se
+had committed high treason, and she was instantly addressed--</p>
+<p>'Tell-take tit!' began Valetta.</p>
+<p>'Sneak!' cried Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'I will call her Croat!' added Fergus.</p>
+<p>'Worse than Croat! Bashi Bazouk!' exclaimed Valetta.</p>
+<p>'Worse than Crow!' chimed in Primrose.</p>
+<p>'Oh, Dolores! How could you?' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'To get poor Willie punished!' said Val.</p>
+<p>Dolores stood her ground. 'It was time to speak when it came to shooting
+arrows at me.'</p>
+<p>'Hush! hush! Willie,' cried Mysie. 'I told you so. Now Dolores, listen.
+Nobody ever tells of anybody when it is only being tiresome and they don't mean
+it, or there never would be any peace at all. That's honour! Do you see? One may
+go to Gill sometimes.'</p>
+<p>'One's a sneak if one does,' put in Wilfred; but Mysie, unheeding went on--</p>
+<p>'And Gill can help without a fuss or going to mamma.'</p>
+<p>'Mamma always knows,' said Val.</p>
+<p>'Mamma knows all about everything,' said Mysie. 'I think it's nature; ad if
+she does not always take notice at the time, she will have it out sooner or
+later.' Then resuming the thread of her discourse: 'So you see, Dolly, we have
+made up our minds that we will forgive you this time, because you are an only
+child and don't know what's what, and that's some excuse. Only you mustn't go on
+telling tales whenever an evident happens.'</p>
+<p>Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, but the force against her
+was overpowering, though still she hesitated. 'But if I promise not to tell,'
+she said, 'how do I know what may be done to me?'</p>
+<p>'You might trust us,' cried Mysie, with flashing eyes.</p>
+<p>'And I can tell you,' added Wilfred, 'that if you do tell, it will be ever so
+much the worse for you--girl that you are.'</p>
+<p>'War to the knife! Cried Valetta, and everybody except Mysie joined in the
+outcry. 'War to the knife with traitors in the camp.'</p>
+<p>Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again acted orator. 'You see, Dolores,
+if you did tell, it would not be possible for mamma or Gill to be always looking
+after you, and I couldn't do you much good--and if all these three are set
+against you, and are horrid to you, and I couldn't do you much good--horrid to
+you, you'll have no peace in your life; and, after all, we only ask of you to
+give and take in a good-natured sort of way, and not to be always making a fuss
+about everything you don't like. It is the only way, I assure you.'</p>
+<p>Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said--</p>
+<p>'Very well.'</p>
+<p>'You promise?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'Then we forgive you, and here's the box of chocolate things Aunt Ada
+brought. We'll have a cigar all round and be friends. Smoke the pipe of peace.'</p>
+<p>Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would have been to have replied,
+'Dolores Mohun will never be intimidated;' but the fact was that her spirit did
+quail at the thought of the tortures which the two boys might inflict on her if
+Mysie abandoned her to their mercy, and she was relieved, as well as surprised
+to find that her offence was condoned, and she was treated as if nothing had
+happened.</p>
+<p>Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing-room, 'How do you get on?'</p>
+<p>'Fairly well,' was Lady Merrifield's answer. 'We shall work together in
+time.'</p>
+<p>'What does Gill say?' asked the aunt, rather mischievously.</p>
+<p>'Well,' said the young lady, 'I don't think we get on at all, not even poor
+Mysie, who works steadily on at her, gets snubbed a dozen times a day, and never
+seems to feel it.'</p>
+<p>I hoped her father would have sent her to school,' said Aunt Adeline. 'I knew
+she would be troublesome. She has all her mother's pride.'</p>
+<p>'The proudest people are those who have least to be proud of,' said Aunt
+Jane.</p>
+<p>'School would have hardened the crust and kept up the alienation,' said Lady
+Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'Perhaps not. It might teach her to value the holidays, and learn that blood
+is thicker than water,' said Miss Jane.</p>
+<p>'It is always in reserve,' added Miss Adeline.</p>
+<p>'Yes, Maurice told her to send her if I grew tired of her, as he said,'
+replied Lady Merrifield, 'but of course I should not think of that unless for
+very strong reasons.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, mamma!' and Gillian remained with her mouth open.</p>
+<p>'Well?' said Aunt Jane.</p>
+<p>'I meant to have told you mamma, but Mr. Leadbitter came in about the G.F.S.
+and stopped me, and I have never seen you to speak to since. Yesterday you know,
+I stayed from evensong to look after the little ones, and you said Dolores might
+do as she pleased, so she stayed at home. The children were looking at the book
+of Bible Pictures, and it came out that Dolly knew nothing at all about Joshua
+and the walls of Jericho, nor Gideon and the lamps in the pitchers, nor anything
+else. Then, when I was surprised, she said that it was not the present system to
+perplex children with the myths of ancient Jewish history.'</p>
+<p>Gillian was speaking rapidly, in the growing consciousness that her mother
+had rather have had this communication reserved for her private ear--and her
+answer was, 'Poor child!'</p>
+<p>'Just what I should expect!' said Aunt Jane.</p>
+<p>'Probably it was jargon half understood, and repeated in defence of her
+ignorance,' said Lady Merrifield. 'She is an odd mixture of defiant loyalty and
+self-defence.'</p>
+<p>'What shall you do about this kind of talk?' asked her sister.</p>
+<p>'One must hear it sooner or later,' said Harry.</p>
+<p>'That is true,' returned his mother, 'but I suppose Fergus and Primrose did
+not hear or understand.'</p>
+<p>'Oh no, mamma. I know they did not, for they were squabbling because Primrose
+wanted to turn over before Fergus had done with Gideon.'</p>
+<p>'Then I don't think there is any harm done. If it comes before Mysie or Val I
+will talk to them, and I mean to take this poor child alone for a little while
+each day in the week and try to get at her.'</p>
+<p>'There's another thing,' said Gillian. 'Is she to go down with me always to
+Casement Cottages on Sunday afternoons when I take the class?'</p>
+<p>'To teach or to learn?' ironically exclaimed Aunt Jane.</p>
+<p>'Neither,' said Gillian. 'To chatter to Constance Hacket. They both spoke to
+me about it yesterday before I went home, and I believe Constance has written a
+note to her to ask her today! Fancy, that goose told me my sweet cousin was a
+dear, and that we didn't appreciate her. Even Miss Hacket gave me quite a
+lecture on kindness and consideration to an orphan stranger.'</p>
+<p>'Not uncalled for, perhaps,' said Aunt Jane. 'I hope you received it in an
+edifying manner.'</p>
+<p>'Now, Aunt Jane! Well, I believe I said we were as kind as she would let us
+be, especially Mysie.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield here made the move to conduct her sisters to their rooms;
+Miss Mohun detained her when they had reached hers, and had left Adeline to rest
+on her sofa. The two, though very unlike, had still the habits of absolute
+confidential intimacy belonging to sisters next in age.</p>
+<p>'Lily,' said Miss Mohun, 'Gillian spoke of a note. Did Maurice give you any
+directions about this child's correspondence?'</p>
+<p>'You know I did not see him. I was so much disappointed. I would give
+anything to have talked her over with him.'</p>
+<p>'I am not sure that you would have gained much. I doubt whether he knows much
+about her, poor fellow. But the letters?'</p>
+<p>'He wrote that she had been a good deal with Professor Sefton's family, and
+he thought they might like to keep up their intercourse.'</p>
+<p>'Nothing about Flinders? He ought to have warned you.'</p>
+<p>'No. Who is he?'</p>
+<p>'A half-brother--no, a step-brother to poor Mary. He was the son by a former
+marriage of her father's first wife, and has been always a thorn in their sides.
+He is a low, dissipated kind of creature; writes theatrical criticisms for
+third-rate papers, or something of that kind, when he is at his best. I believe
+Mary was really fond of him, and helped him more than Maurice could well bear,
+and since her death the man has perfectly pestered him with appeals to her
+memory. I really believe one reason he welcomed this post was to get out of his
+reach.'</p>
+<p>'You always know everything Jenny. Now how did you know this?'</p>
+<p>'I called once in the midst of an interview between him and Mary. And
+afterwards I came on poor Maurice when he was really very much provoked, and had
+it all out; ad since her death--well, I saw him get a begging letter from the
+man, and he spoke of it again. I wish I had advised him to warn you against the
+wretch.'</p>
+<p>'I don't suppose he knows where the child is. He is no relation to her, you
+say?'</p>
+<p>'None at all, happily. But on that occasion, when I was an uncomfortable
+third, Maurice was very angry that she should have been allowed to call him
+Uncle Alfred; and Mary screwed up her little mouth, and evidently rather liked
+the aggravation to Mohun pride.'</p>
+<p>'Poor Maurice, so he had a skeleton! Well, I don't see how it can hurt us.
+The man probably knows nothing about us, and even if he could trace the girl, he
+must know that she can do nothing for him.'</p>
+<p>'You had better keep an eye on her letters. He is quite capable of asking for
+the poor child's half sovereigns. I wish Maurice had given you authority.'</p>
+<p>'Perhaps he spoke to her about it. At any rate, what he said of the Seftons
+is quite sufficient to imply that there is no sanction to any other
+correspondence.'</p>
+<p>'That is true. Really, Lily, I believe you are the most likely person to do
+some good with her, though I don't think you know what you are in for. But
+Gillian does!'</p>
+<p>'I believe it is very good for the children to have to exercise a little
+forbearance. In spite of all our knocking about the world, our family
+exclusiveness is pretty much what ours was in the old Beechcroft days--'</p>
+<p>'When Rotherwood and Robert Mohun were out only outsiders and the Westons
+came on us like new revelations!'</p>
+<p>'It is curious to look back on,' said Lady Merrifield. 'It seems to me that
+the system, or no system, on which we were brought up was rather passing away
+even then.'</p>
+<p>'Specks we growed,' said Jane. 'What do you call the system?'</p>
+<p>'Just that people thought it their own business to bring up their children
+themselves, and let the actual technical teaching depend upon opportunities,
+whereas now they get them taught, but let the bringing up take it chance.'</p>
+<p>'People lived with their children then--yes, I see what you mean, Lily. Poor
+Eleanor, intending with all her might to be a mother to us, brought us up, as
+you call it, with all her powers; but public opinion would never have suffered
+us to get merely the odd sort of teaching that she could give us. It was
+regular, or course; but oh! do you remember the old atlas, with Germany divided
+into circles, and everything as it was before the Congress of Vienna?'</p>
+<p>'You liked geography; I hated it.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, I was young enough to come in for the elder boys' old school atlases,
+which had some sense in them. It seems to me that we had more the spirit of
+working for ourselves according to our individual tastes than people have now.
+We learnt, they are taught.'</p>
+<p>'Well! and what did we learn?'</p>
+<p>'As much as we could carry,' said Aunt Jane, laughing. 'Assimilate, if you
+like it better; and I doubt if people will turn out to have done more now. What
+becomes of all the German that is crammed down girl's throats, whether they have
+a turn for languages or not? Do they ever read a German book? Now you learnt it
+for love of Fouque and Max Piccolomini, and you have kept it up ever since.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, by cramming it down my children's throats. But what I complain of,
+Jane, in the young folk that come across me is not over-knowledge, but want of
+knowledge--want of general culture. This Dolores, for instance, can do what she
+has been taught better than Mysie, some tings better than Gillian, but she has
+absolutely no interest in general knowledge, not even in the glaciers which she
+has seen; she does not know whether Homer wrote in Greek or Latin, considers
+&quot;Marmion' a lesson, cannot tell a planet from a star, and neither knows nor
+cares anything about the two Napoleons. Now we seem to have breathed in such
+things. Why! I remember being made into Astyanax for a very unwilling Andromache
+(poor Eleanor) for caress, and being told to shudder at the bright copper
+coal-scuttle, before Harry went to school.'</p>
+<p>'Of course poor Maurice could not cultivate his child. Yet, after all, we
+grew up without a mother; but then the dear old Baron lived among us, and knew
+what we were doing, instead of shutting us up in a schoolroom with some one,
+with only knowledge, not culture. Those very late dinners have quite upset all
+the intelligent intercourse between fathers and children not come out.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Jasper and I have felt that difficulty. But after all, Jenny, when I
+look back, I cannot say I think ours was a model bringing up. What a strange
+year that was after Eleanor's marriage!'</p>
+<p>'Ah! you felt responsible and were too young for it, but to me it was a very
+jolly time, though I suppose I was an ingredient in your troubles. Yes, we
+brought ourselves up; but I maintain that it was better alternative than being
+drilled so hard as never to think of anything but arrant idling out of
+lesson-time.'</p>
+<p>'Lessons should be lessons, and play, play, is one of the professor's maxims
+to which that poor child has treated us.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! on that system, where would have been all your grand heraldic pedigrees?
+I've got them still.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! Jenny, you good old Brownie, have you? How I should like to look at them
+again and show them the Gillian and Mysie. Do you remember the little scalloped
+line we drew round all the true knights?'</p>
+<p>'Ay! and where would have been all your romancing about Sir Maurice de Mohun,
+the pride of his name? For my part, I much prefer a cavalier dead two hundred
+years ago as the object of a girl's enthusiasm--if enthusiasm she must have--to
+the existing lieutenant, or even curate.'</p>
+<p>'Certainly; I should be sorry to have been bred up to history with individual
+interest and romance squeezed out of it. You see when Jasper came home from the
+Crimea he exactly continued mine.'</p>
+<p>'You have fulfilled your ideal better than falls to the lot of most people,
+even to the item of knighthood.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! you should have heard us grumble over the expense of it. And, after all,
+I dare say Sir Maurice found his knight's fee quite as inconvenient! Oh!' with a
+start, 'there's the first bell, and here have I been dawdling here instead of
+minding my business! But it is so nice to have you! I day, Jenny, we will have
+one of our good old games at threadpaper verses and all the rest tonight. I want
+you to show the children how we used to play at them.'</p>
+<p>And the party played at paper games for nearly two hours that evening, to the
+extreme delight of Gillian, Mysie, and Harry, to say nothing of their mother and
+aunts, who played with all their might, even Aunt Adeline lighting up into
+droll, quiet humour. Only Dolores was first bewildered, then believed herself
+affronted, and soon gave up altogether, wondering that grown-up people could be
+so foolish.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER VII.<br>
+G.F.S.</h3>
+
+<p>The first thought of Dolores was that she should see Constance Hacket, when
+she heard 'Hurrah for a holiday!' resounding over the house.</p>
+<p>As she came out of her room Mysie met her. 'Hurrah! Aunt Jane has got us a
+holiday that we may help get ready for the G.F.S.! Mamma has sent down notes to
+Miss Vincent and Mr. Pollock. Oh! jolly, jolly!'</p>
+<p>And, obvious of past offences, Mysie caught her cousin's arms, and whirled
+her round and round in an exulting dance, extremely unpleasant to so quiet a
+personage. 'Don't!' she cried. 'You hurt! You make me dizzy!'</p>
+<p>'My certie, Miss Mysie!' exclaimed Mrs. Halfpenny at the same time, 'ye're
+daft! Gae doon canny, and keep your apron on, for if I see a stain on that clean
+dress--'</p>
+<p>Mysie hopped downstairs without waiting to hear the terrible consequences.'</p>
+<p>Aunt Adeline did not come down to breakfast, but Aunt Jane appeared, fresh
+and glowing, just in time for prayers, having been with Gillian and Harry to
+survey the scene of operations, and to judge of the day, which threatened
+showers, the grass being dank and sparkling with something more than September
+dews.</p>
+<p>'The tables must be in the coach-house,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Happily, our
+equipages are not on a large scale, and we must not get the poor girls' best
+things drenched.'</p>
+<p>'No; and it is rather disheartening to have to address double ranks of
+umbrellas,' said Aunt Jane. 'Is the post come?'</p>
+<p>'It is always infamously late here,' said Harry. 'We complained, as the
+appointed hour is eight, but we were told 'all the other ladies were satisfied.'
+I do believe they think no one not in business has a right to wish for letters
+before nine.'</p>
+<p>'Here it comes, though,' said Gillian; and in due time the locked letter-bag
+was delivered to Lady Merrifield, and Primrose waited eagerly to act as postman.</p>
+<p>It was not the day for the Indian mail, but Aunt Jane expected some last
+directions, and Lady Merrifield the final intelligence as to the numbers of each
+contingent of girls. Dolores was on the qui vive for a letter from Maude Sefton,
+and devoured her aunt and the bag with her eyes. She was quite sure that among
+the bundle of post-cards that were taken out there was a letter. Also she saw
+her aunt give a little start, and put it aside, and when she demanded. 'Is there
+no letter for me?' Lady Merrifield's answer was,' None, my dear, from Miss
+Sefton.'</p>
+<p>Hot indignation glowed in Dolores's cheeks and eyes, more especially as she
+perceived a look pass between the two aunts. She sat swelling while talk about
+the chances of rain was passing round her, the forecasts in the paper, the cats
+washing their faces, the swallows flying low, the upshot being that it might be
+fine, but that emergencies were to be prepared for. All the time that Lady
+Merrifield was giving orders to children and servants for the preparations,
+Dolores kept her station, and the instant there was a vacant moment, she said
+fiercely--</p>
+<p>'Aunt Lilias, I know there is a letter for me. Let me have it.'</p>
+<p>'Your father told me you might have letter from Miss Sefton, and there is
+none from her,' said Lady Merrifield, with a somewhat perplexed air.</p>
+<p>'I may have letters from whom I choose.'</p>
+<p>'My dear, that is not the custom in general with girls of your age, and I
+know your father would not wish it. Tell me, is there any one you have reason to
+expect to hear from?'</p>
+<p>Dolores had an instinct that all the Mohuns were set against the person she
+was thinking of, but she had an answer ready, true, but which would serve her
+purpose.</p>
+<p>'There was a person, Herr Muhlwausser, that father ordered some scientific
+plates from--of microscopic zoophytes. He said he did not know whether anything
+would come of it, but, in case it should, he gave my address, and left me a
+cheque to pay him with. I have it in my desk upstairs.'</p>
+<p>'Very well, my dear,' said Lady Merrifield, 'you shall have the letter when
+it comes.'</p>
+<p>'The men are come, my lady, to put up the tables. Miss Mohun says will you
+come down?' came the information at that moment, sweeping away Aunt Lilias and
+everybody else into the whirl of preparation; while Dolores remained, feeling
+absolutely certain that a letter was being withheld from her, and she stood on
+the garden steps burning with hot indignation, when Mysie, armed with the key of
+the linen-press, flashed past her breathlessly, exclaiming--</p>
+<p>'Aren't you coming down, Dolly? 'Tis such fun! I'm come for some
+table-cloths.'</p>
+<p>This didn't stir Dolores, but presently Mysie returned again, followed by
+Mrs. Halfpenny, grumbling that 'A' the bonnie napery that she had packed and
+carried sae mony miles by sea and land should be waured on a wheen silly
+feckless taupies that 'tis the leddies' wull to cocker up till not a lass of 'em
+will do a stroke of wark, nor gie a ceevil answer to her elders.'</p>
+<p>Mysie, with a bundle of damask cloths under her arm, paused to repeat, 'Are
+you not coming Dolly? Your dear Miss Constance is there looking for you?'</p>
+<p>This did move Dolores, and she followed to the coach-house, where everybody
+was buzzing about like bees, the tables and forms being arranged, and upon them
+dishes with piles of fruit and cakes, contributions from other associates. All
+the vases, great and small, were brought out, and raids were made on the flower
+garden to fill them. Little scarlet flags, with the name of each parish in
+white, were placed to direct the parties of guests to their places, and Harry,
+Macrae, and the little groom were adorning the beams with festoons. The men from
+the coffee-tavern supplied the essentials, but the ladies undertook the
+decoration, and Aunt Adeline, in a basket-chair, with her feet on a box,
+directed the ornamentation with great taste and ability. Constance Hacket had
+been told off to make up a little bouquet to lay beside each plate, and Dolores
+volunteered to help her.</p>
+<p>'Well, dearest, will you come to me on Sunday?'</p>
+<p>'I don't know. I have not been able to ask Aunt Lilias yet, and Gillian was
+very cross about it.'</p>
+<p>'What did she say?'</p>
+<p>'She said she did not think Aunt Lilias approved of visiting and gossiping on
+Sunday.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! now. What does Gillian do herself?' said Constance in a hurt voice. 'She
+does come and teach, certainly, but she stays ever so long talking after the
+class is over. Why should we gossip more than she does?'</p>
+<p>'Yes; but people's own children can do no wrong.'</p>
+<p>There Constance became inattentive. Mr. Poulter had come up, and wanted to be
+useful, so she jumped up with a handful of nosegays to instruct him in laying
+them by each plate, leaving Dolores to herself, which she found dull. The other
+two, however, came back again, and the work continued, but the talk was entirely
+between the gentleman and lady, chiefly about music for the choral society, and
+the voices of the singers, about which Dolores neither knew nor cared.</p>
+<p>By one o'clock the long tables were a pretty sight, covered with piles of
+fruit and cakes, vases of flowers and little flags, establishments of teacups at
+intervals, and a bouquet and pretty card at every one of the plates.</p>
+<p>Then came early dinner at the house, and such rest as could be had after it,
+till the pony-chaise, waggonette, and Mrs. Blackburne's carriage came to the
+door to convey to church all whom they could carry, the rest walking.</p>
+<p>The church was a sea of neat round hats, mostly black, with a considerable
+proportion of feathers, tufts, and flowers. On their dark dresses were pinned
+rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to which parish they belonged.
+There was a bright, short service, in which the clear, high voices of the
+multitudinous maidens quite overcame those of the choir boys, and then an
+address, respecting which Constance pronounced that 'Canon Fremont was always so
+sweet,' and Dolores assented, without in the least knowing what it had been
+about.</p>
+<p>Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept guard, in the walk from
+church, over the white-rosed Silverton detachment; but another shower was
+impending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must not get wet, rushed up and
+packed her into the waggonette, where Dolores was climbing after, when at a
+touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield looked round.</p>
+<p>'Dolores,' she said, 'you forget that Miss Hacket walked to church.'</p>
+<p>Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black as thunder, and Miss
+Hacket protested that she was not tired, and could not leave her girls.</p>
+<p>'Never mind the girls, I will look after them; I meant to walk. Don't stand
+on the step. Come down,' she added sharply, but not in time, for the horses gave
+a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, down tumbled Dolores, or would have
+tumbled, but that she was caught between her aunt and Miss Hacket, who with one
+voice admonished her never to do that again, for there was nothing more
+dangerous. Indeed, there was more anger in Lady Merrifield's tone than her niece
+had yet heard, and as there was no making out that there was the least injury to
+the girl, she was forced to walk home, in spite of all Miss Hacket's
+protestations and refusals, which had nearly ended in her exposing herself to
+the same peril as Dolores, only that Lady Merrifield fairly pushed her in and
+shut the door on her. Nothing would have compensated to Dolores but that her
+Constance should have jumped out to accompany her and bewail her aunt's cruelty,
+but devotion did not reach to such an extent. Her aunt, however, said in a tone
+that might be either apology or reproof--</p>
+<p>'My dear, I could not let poor Miss Hacket walk after all she has done and
+with all she has to do today.'</p>
+<p>Dolores vouchsafed no answer, but Aunt Jane said--</p>
+<p>'All which applies doubly to you, Lily.'</p>
+<p>'Not a bit; I am not run about like all of you,' she answered, brightly.
+'Besides, it is such fun! I feel like Whit Monday at Beechcroft! Don't you
+remember the pink and blue glazed calico banners crowned with summer snowballs?
+And the big drum? What a nice-looking set of girls! How pleasant to see rosy,
+English faces tidily got up! They were rosy enough in Ireland, but a great deal
+too picturesque. Now these are a sort of flower of maidenhood--'</p>
+<p>'You are getting quite poetical, Lily.'</p>
+<p>'It's the effect of walking in procession--there's something quite
+exhilarating in it; ay, and of having a bit of old Beechcroft about me. Do tell
+me who that lady is; I ought to know her, I'm sure! Oh, Miss Smith, good
+morning. How many girls have you brought? Oh! the crimson rosettes, are they?
+York and Lancaster?--indeed. I'm glad we have some shelter for them; I'm afraid
+there is another shower. Have you no umbrella, my dear? Come under mine.'</p>
+<p>It was a fierce scud of hail, hitting rather than wetting, but Dolores had
+the satisfaction of declaring the edges of her dress to be damp and going off to
+change it, though Aunt Jane pinched the kilting and said the damp was
+imperceptible, and Wilfred muttered, 'Made of sugar, only not so sweet.'</p>
+<p>In fact, she hoped that Constance, who had told of her hatred to these great
+functions and willingness to do anything to avoid them, would avail herself of
+the excuse; but though the young lady must have seen her go, she never attempted
+to follow; and Dolores, feeling her own room dull, came down again to find the
+drawing-room empty, and on the next gleam of sunshine, she decided on going to
+seek her friend.</p>
+<p>What a hum and buzz pervaded the stable-yard! There was a coach-house with
+all its great doors open, and the rows of girls awakening from their first shy
+and hungry silence into laughter and talking. There were big urns and fountains
+steaming, active hands filling cups, all the cousins, all their congeners, and
+four or five clergymen acting as waiters, Aunt Adeline pouring out tea a the
+upper table for any associate who had time to swallow it, and Constance Hacket
+talking away to a sandy-haired curate, without so much as seeing her friend!
+Only Wilfred, at sight of his cousin again, getting up a violent mock cough,
+declaring that he thought she had gone to bed with congealed lungs or else Brown
+Titus, as the old women called it. His mother, however, heard the cough--which,
+indeed, was too remarkable a sound not to attract any one--and with a short,
+sharp word to him to take care, she put Dolores down under Aunt Ada's wing, and
+provided her with a lovely peach and a delicious Bath bun. Constance just looked
+up and nodded, saying, 'You dear little thing, I couldn't think what was become
+of you,' and then went on with her sandy curate, about--what was it?--Dolores
+know not, only that it seemed very interesting, and she was left out of it.</p>
+<p>Down came the rain, a hopeless downpour, and there was a consultation among
+the elders, some laughing, some doubtful looks, and at last Harry, with Macrae
+and one of the curates, disappeared. Then grace was sung, and speeches
+followed--one by the rector, Mr. Leadbitter, fatherly and prosy;--a paper read
+by the Branch Secretary, about affairs in general; and a very amusing speech by
+Miss Mohun, full of anecdotes of example and warning. 'You know,' she said, 'all
+the school story-books end--when the grown up books marry their people--with the
+good girl going out to service under her young lady, and there she lives happy
+ever after! But some of us know better! We don't know how far the marrying ones
+always do live very happy ever after--'</p>
+<p>'For shame, Jenny!' muttered Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'But,' went on Miss Mohun, 'even you that have been lucky enough to get under
+your own young ladies know that life here is all new beginnings at the bottom,
+just as when you were very proud of yourselves for getting out of the infant
+school, you found it was only being at the bottom of the upper one; and I can
+tell the twelve-year-olds--I see some of them--that it is often a finer thing to
+be at the head of the school than the last in the house. Ay, you've got to work
+up there again, and it is a long business and a steady business, but it is to be
+done. I knew a girl, thirty-five years ago, that my sister-in-law took from
+school, and she was not a genius either, and I am quite sure she could not do
+rule-of-three, nor tell what is the capital of Dahomey, as I dare say every one
+here can do, but I'll tell you what she did, and that was, her best, and there
+she has been ever since; and the last time I saw her was sitting up in her
+housekeeper's room, in her silk gown, with her master's grandchildren hanging
+about her, respected and loved by us all. And I knew another, a much clever girl
+at school, with prettier ways to begin with, but--I'm sorry to say, her finger
+were too clever, and it was not very happy ever after, though she did right
+herself.' And then Aunt Jane went on to the difficulties of having to deal with
+such quantities of pots and pans, and knives and forks, and cloths and brushes,
+each with a use of its very own, just as if she had been a scullery-maid
+herself; telling how sense and memory must be brought to bear on these things
+just as much as in analyzing a sentence, and how even those would not do without
+the higher motive of faithfulness to Him whose servants we all are. Her finish
+was a picture of the roving servant girl, always saying, 'I don't like it,' and
+always seeking novelty, illustrated by her experience of a little maid who left
+one place because she could not sleep alone, and another because the little girl
+slept with her, a third because it was so lonesome, and a fourth because it was
+so noisy, and quitted her fifth within a half year because she could not eat
+twice cooked meat.</p>
+<p>Aunt Jane varied her voice in the most comical way, and the girls, as well as
+all her audience, laughed heartily.</p>
+<p>'Bravo, Jenny!' said a voice close to her, and a gentleman with a rather bald
+head, a fluffy, light beard touched with white, dancing eyes, and a slim,
+youthful figure, was seen standing in the group.</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield and her sisters cried with one glad voice, 'Oh! Rotherwood!'
+holding out their hands.</p>
+<p>'Yes. I found I'd a few hours between the trains, so I ran down to look you
+up. I met Harry at the house, and he told me I should find Jane qualifying for
+the female parliament.'</p>
+<p>'It's such a pity you should fall on all this turmoil,' said Aunt Ada.</p>
+<p>'Pity! I wouldn't have missed Jenny's wisdom for the world. What is it, Lily?
+Temperance, or have you set up a Salvation Army?</p>
+<p>'G.F.S., of course, you Rotherwood of old! And now you are come, you shall
+save me from what has been my bugbear for the last week. You shall give the
+premiums.'</p>
+<p>'Come, it's no use making faces and pretending you know nothing about it,'
+added Miss Mohun. 'I know very well that Florence is deep in it!'</p>
+<p>'Ay, they'll have you over to repeat that splendid harangue about pots and
+pans!' said he, bowing at Lady Merrifield's introductions of him to the
+bystanders, and obediently accepting the sheaf of envelopes, while Mr.
+Leadbitter made it known that the premiums would be given by the Marquess of
+Rotherwood. Certainly it was a much more lively business than if Lady Merrifield
+had performed it, for he had something droll to observe to each girl. One he
+pretended to envy, telling her he had worked hard for may a year, and never got
+such a card as that for it--far less five shillings. Another he was sure kept
+her pans bright, and always knew which was which; a very little one was asked if
+she had gone from her cradle, and so on, always sending them away with a broad
+smile, and professing great respect for the three seven-year-card maidens who
+came up last. Then in a concluding speech he demanded--where were the premiums
+for the mistresses, who, he was quite sure, deserved them quite as much or more
+than the maids!</p>
+<p>While everybody was still laughing, Lady Merrifield asked Mr. Leadbitter to
+explain that as it was still raining hard, she must ask all to adjourn to the
+great loft over the stable, where they could enjoy themselves. Each associate
+was to gather her own flock and bring them in order. Lady Merrifield said she
+would lead the way, Lord Rotherwood coming with her, picking up little Primrose
+in his arms to carry her upstairs to the loft.</p>
+<p>Every one was moving. Dolores was among a crowd of strangers. She heard them
+saying how delightful Lord Rotherwood was, and charming and handsome and
+graceful Lady Merrifield, with her beautiful eyes. It worried Dolores, who
+thought it rather foolish to be pretty, except in the case of persecuted orphan,
+and, moreover, admiration of her aunt always seemed to her disparagement of her
+mother. And where was Constance?</p>
+<p>She followed the stream, and, climbing some stairs, came out into a large,
+long, empty hay-loft, over what had once been hunting stables--the children's
+wet-day play-place. The deputation dispatched to the house had managed to get up
+there the schoolroom piano, and one of the curates sat down to it, and began
+playing dance music, while Miss Mohun, Miss Hacket, and the other ladies began
+arranging couples for a country dance--all girls, of course, except that Lord
+Rotherwood danced with the tiny premium girl, and Harry with Primrose. Wilfred
+and Fergus could not be incited to make the attempt; Mysie offered herself to
+Dolores, but in vain. 'I hate dancing,' was all the answer she got, and she went
+off to persuade Lois, the nursery girl. Constance Hacket arranged herself on a
+chair, and looked out from between two curates; there was no getting at her.</p>
+<p>Then there came a pause; Lord Rotherwood spoke to Gillian, and must have
+asked her to point Dolores out, for presently he made his way to the little dark
+figure in the window, and, kindly laying his hand on her shoulder, asked whether
+she had heard from her father yet.</p>
+<p>'No, I suppose you can't,' he added. 'It is a great break-up for you; but you
+are a lucky girl to be taken in here! It reminds me of what Beechcroft used to
+be to me when I was a stray fish, though not quite so lonely as you are. Make
+the most of it, for there aren't many in these days like Aunt Lily there!'</p>
+<p>'He little knows,' thought Dolores, as a waltz began to be played.</p>
+<p>'They want an example,' he said. 'Come along. You know how, I'm sure--a
+Londoner like you!'</p>
+<p>Pairs were whirling about the floor in full career in a short time, to the
+astonishment of other maidens who had never seen dancing in their lives.
+Dolores, afraid to refuse, and certainly flattered, really was wonderfully
+exhilarated and brightened by her career wither good-natured cousin.</p>
+<p>'I do believe Cousin Rotherwood has shaken her out of the dumps,' observed
+Gillian to Aunt Jane, who returned--</p>
+<p>'He can do it if any one can.'</p>
+<p>The funny thing was the effect upon Constance, who, in the next pause, shook
+off her curates, advanced to Dolores, who was recovering her breath under the
+window, called her a dear thing whom she had not been able to get to all this
+time, sat rather forward with an arm round her waist for the next half-hour,
+and, when Sir Roger de Coverley was getting up, proposed that they should be
+partners, but not till she had seen Lord Rotherwood pair himself off with Mysie.</p>
+<p>'I must,' said he to Lady Merrifield, 'it's so like dancing with honest
+Phyl.'</p>
+<p>'The greatest compliment you could have, Mysie,' said her mother, looking
+very much pleased.</p>
+<p>The last yellow patches of evening sunshine on the sloping roof faded;
+watches were looked at, the music turned to the National Anthem, everybody stood
+up, or stood still, and sung it. Then at the close, Mr. Leadbitter stood by the
+piano and said--</p>
+<p>'One word more, my young friends. Some of you may have been surprised at this
+evening's amusement, but we want you to understand that there is no harm in
+dancing itself, provided that the place, the manner, and the companions are fit.
+I hope that you will all prove the truth of my words, by not taking this
+pleasant evening as an excuse for running into places of temptation. Now, good
+night, with many thanks to Lady Merrifield for the happy day she has given us.'</p>
+<p>A voice added, 'Three cheers for Lady Merrifield!' and the G.F.S. showed
+itself by no means backward in the matter of cheering. There was a hunting up of
+ulsters and umbrellas; one associate after another got her flock together, and
+clattered downstairs, either to get into vans, to walk to the station, or to
+disperse to their homes in the town.</p>
+<p>Meantime Lord Rotherwood had time to explain that he was on his way to fetch
+his wife home from some German baths, where she had gone to recruit after the
+season; and, as he meant to cross at night, had come to spend a few hours with
+his cousin. There was still an hour to spare, during which Lady Merrifield
+insisted that he must have more solid food than G.F.S. provided.</p>
+<p>'Lily,' said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to the house together, 'it
+strikes me that Rotherwood could satisfy your mind about that letter. He would
+know the handwriting. You remember a certain brother--very much in law--of
+Maurice's?'</p>
+<p>'I have reason to do so,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'You don't mean that he has
+been troubling Lily?'</p>
+<p>'No; but from the nature of the animal it is much to be apprehended that he
+will,' said Miss Mohun, 'if he knows that the child is here.'</p>
+<p>'In fact,' said Lady Merrifield, 'Jane has made me suppress, till
+examination, a letter to her, in case it should be from him. It is a horrid
+thing to do. What do you think, Rotherwood?'</p>
+<p>'There should be no correspondence. Did not Maurice warn you? Then he ought.
+Look here, Lily. His wife--under strong compulsion from the fellow, I should
+think--begged me to find some employment for him. I got him a secretaryship to
+our Board of--what d'ye call it? I'll do Maurice the justice to say that he was
+considerably cool about it; but the end of it was that there was an
+unaccountable deficit, and my lady said it served me right. I was a fool, as I
+always am, and gave way to the poor woman about not bringing it home to him. And
+she insisted on making it up to me by degrees--out of her literary work, I
+fancy--for I don't think Maurice knew the extent of the peculation. Ever since
+I've been getting begging letters from the fellow at intervals. If he had the
+impertinence to molest you, Lily, simply refer him to me.'</p>
+<p>'And if he writes to the child?'</p>
+<p>'Return him the letter. Say she can have no such thing without her father's
+consent.'</p>
+<p>'Is this a case in point?' said Lady Merrifield, producing the letter.</p>
+<p>'No,' said he, holding it up in the waning light. 'I know the fellow's fist
+too well! This is a gentleman's hand.'</p>
+<p>'What a relief!' said Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'Nay, don't be in a hurry,' said Miss Mohun. 'Don't give it to her unopened.
+Your only safety is in maintaining your right to see all the child's letters,
+except what her father specified.'</p>
+<p>'Don't you wish it was you, Brownie?' asked her cousin.</p>
+<p>'I hate it!' said Lady Merrifield; 'but I suppose I ought! However, there's
+no harm in this, that's a comfort; it is simply that the gentleman that the
+house is let to has found this note to her somewhere about, and thinks she would
+wish to have it. I think it is her mother's hand. How nice of him!'</p>
+<p>'Now, Lily, don't go and be too apologetic,' said Jane. 'Assert your right,
+or you'll have it all over again.'</p>
+<p>'Without Jenny to do prudence,' said Lord Rotherwood, while Lady Merrifield,
+hardly hearing either of them, hurried on in search of her niece, but they would
+have been satisfied if they could have heard her.</p>
+<p>'My dear, here's your letter. I am so sorry to have been too much hindered to
+look at it before. You must not mind, Dolly. I know it is very disagreeable; but
+every one who has the care of precious articles like young ladies is bound to
+look after them.'</p>
+<p>Dolores took the letter with a kind of acknowledgement, but no more, for its
+detention offended her, and she was aggrieved at the prospect of future
+inspection, as another cruel stroke inflicted upon her.</p>
+<p>Aunt Adeline was found in the drawing-room, where she had entertained such
+ladies as were afraid of the damp, or who did not approve of the dancing, and
+would not look on at it. Thence all went off to a merry meal, where the elders
+plunged into old stories, and went on capping each others' recollections and
+making fun, to the extreme delight of the young folk, who had often been
+entertained with tales of Beechcroft. Aunt Ada declared that she had not laughed
+so much for ten years, and Aunt Jane declared that it was too bad to lower their
+dignity and be so absurd before all these young things.</p>
+<p>'It's having four of the old set together!' said Lord Rotherwood; 'a chance
+one doesn't get every day. I wonder how soon Maurice and Phyllis will meet.'</p>
+<p>'It depends on whether the Zenobia touches at Auckland before going to the
+Fijis,' said Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'There is at least a sort of neighbourhood between them,' said Miss Mohun,
+'though it may be about as close as between us and Sicily.'</p>
+<p>'She is looking out for Maurice,' said Aunt Ada. 'She wrote, only it was too
+late, to propose his bringing Dolores to be at least nearer to him.'</p>
+<p>'Just like Phyllis!' ejaculated the marquess. 'You have one of your flock
+with something of her countenance, Lily.'</p>
+<p>'I am so glad you see it, Rotherwood. It is what I am always trying to
+believe in, and I hope the likeness is a little within as well as without--but
+we poor creatures who have been tumbled about the world get sophisticated, and
+can't attain to the sweet, blundering freshness of "Honest Simplicity."'</p>
+<p>'It is a plant that must be spontaneous--can't be grown to order.'</p>
+<p>'His lordship's carriage at the door,' announced Macrae.</p>
+<p>'Ah, well! Trains must be caught, I suppose. I'm glad you're settled here,
+Lilias. I feel as if a sort of reflex of old Beechcroft were attainable now.'</p>
+<p>'I hope it won't be a G.F.S. day next time you come!'</p>
+<p>'Oh, it was very jolly. I shall bring my child next time, if I can get her
+out of the clutches of the governesses for a day, but it is a hard matter. They
+look daggers at me if I put my head into the schoolroom.'</p>
+<p>'You always were a dangerous element there, you know.'</p>
+<p>'Poor dear Eleanor! What did I not make her go through! But she never went
+the length of one of my lady's governesses, who declared that she had as much
+call to interfere in my stable, as I had with her schoolroom.'</p>
+<p>'What mischief were you doing there?'</p>
+<p>'Well, if you must know, I was enlivening a very dry and Cromwellian
+abridgement with some of Lily's old cavalier anecdotes, so Lily was at the
+bottom of it, you see.'</p>
+<p>'But did she fall on you then and there?'</p>
+<p>'No, no. I trust my beard is too grey for that. But she looked at me with
+impressive dignity such as neither poor little Fly nor I could stand, and
+afterwards betook herself to Victoria, who, I am happy to say, sent her to the
+right about.'</p>
+<p>'As I am about to do,' said Lady Merrifield; 'for if you don't miss your
+train, it will be by cruelty to animals. No, you've not got time to shake hands
+with all that rabble. Be off with you.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! I shall tell Victoria that if she sees me tomorrow it's all owing to
+your unpitying punctuality,' said he, shaking himself into his overcoat.</p>
+<p>'Dear old fellow!' said Lady Merrifield, as she turned from the front door,
+while he drove off. 'He is like a gust of old Beechcroft air! But I should think
+Victoria had a handful.'</p>
+<p>'She knew what she was doing,' said Aunt Ada. 'I always thought she married
+him for the sake of breaking him in.'</p>
+<p>'And very well she has done it, too,' returned Aunt Jane. 'Only now and then
+he gets a holiday, and then the real creature breaks out again. But it is much
+better so. He would not have been of half so much good otherwise.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield looked from one to the other, but said no more, for all the
+young folks were round her; but every one was so much tired, children, servants,
+and all, that prayers were read early, and all went to their rooms. Yet, tired
+as she was, Lady Merrifield sat on in her sister Jane's room, in her
+dressing-gown, talking according to another revival of olden time.</p>
+<p>'What did Ada mean about Rotherwood? Isn't he happy?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, very happy; and it is much the best thing that could have happened.
+It is only another of the proofs that life is very long, especially for men.'</p>
+<p>'Come, now, tell me all about it. You don't know how often I feel as if I had
+been buried and dug up again.'</p>
+<p>'There are things one can't write about. Poor fellow! he never really wanted
+to marry anybody but Phyllis.'</p>
+<p>'No! you don't mean it! I never knew it.'</p>
+<p>'No, for you were in the utmost parts of the earth; and he was very good, so
+that I don't believe honest Phyl herself, or any one without eyes, guessed it;
+but he had it all out with our father, who begged him, almost on that allegiance
+he had always shown, to abstain from beginning about it. You see, not only are
+they first cousins, but our mother and his father both were consumptive, and
+there was dear Claude even then regularly breaking down every winter, and Ada
+needing to be looked after like a hothouse plan. I'm sure, when I think of the
+last generation of Devereuxes, I wonder so many of us have been tough enough to
+weather the dangerous age; and there had been an alarm or two about Rotherwood
+himself. Well, he was very good, half from obedience, half from being convinced
+that it would be a selfish thing, and especially from being wholly convinced
+that Phyl's feelings were not stirred. That was the way I came to know about it,
+for papa took me out for a drive in the old gig to ask what I thought about her
+heart, and I could truly and honestly say she had never found it, cared for
+Rotherwood just as she did for Reggie, and was not the sort to think whether a
+man was attentive to her. Besides, she was eighteen, and he thirty-one, and she
+thought him venerable. I believe, if he had asked her then, she might have taken
+him (because Cousin Rotherwood wished it), but she would have had to fall in
+love in the second place instead of the first. Well, he was very good, poor old
+fellow, except that by way of taking himself off, and diverting his mind, he
+went dear-stalking with such unnecessary vehemence that a Scotch mist was very
+nearly the death of him, and he discovered that he had as many lungs as other
+people. If you could only have seen our dear old father then, how distressed and
+how guilty he felt, and how he used to watch Phyllis, and examine Alethea and me
+as to whether she seemed more than reasonably concerned for Rotherwood had come
+and hit the right nail on the head he might have carried her off.'</p>
+<p>'But he didn't.'</p>
+<p>'No; for, you see, he was ill enough to convince himself, as well as other
+people, that he was a consumptive Devereux after all.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes! I remember the shock with which I heard like a doom that he was
+going the way of the others; and hen he and the dear Claude came out in his
+yacht to us at Gibraltar, and were so bright! We had a wonderful little journey
+into Spain together, and how Jasper enjoyed it! Little did I think I was never
+to see Claude here again. But it was true, was it not, that all Rotherwood's
+care gave the dear fellow much more comfort--perhaps kept him longer?'</p>
+<p>'I am sure it was so. Rotherwood soon got over his own attachment--the
+missing an English winter was all he needed; but he would hear of nothing but
+devoting himself to Claude. Papa and Claude were both uneasy at his going off
+from all his cares and duties, but I believe--and Claude knew it--that he
+actually could not settle down quietly while Phyllis remained unmarried, and
+that having Claude to nurse and carry about from climate was the comfort of his
+life. Or, I believe, dear Claude would have been glad to have been left in peace
+to do what he could. Well, then Phyllis and Ada went to stay in the Close with
+Emily, and Ada wrote conscious letters and came home bridling and blushing about
+Captain May, so that we were quite prepared for his turning up at Beechcroft,
+but not at all for what I saw before he had been ten minutes in the house, that
+it was Phyllis that he meant, and had meant all along! Dear Harry! it almost
+made up for its not being Rotherwood. Well, poor Ada! It hadn't gone too deep,
+happily, and I opened her eyes in time to hinder any demonstration that could
+have left pain and shame--at least, I think so; but poor Ada has had too many
+little fits for one to have told much more than another. I believe Phyl did tell
+Harry that he meant Ada, but she let herself be convinced to the contrary; and
+the only objection I have to it is his having taken that appointment at
+Auckland, and carried her out of reach of any of us. However, it was better for
+Rotherwood, and when she was gone, and his occupation over with our dear Claude,
+his mother was always at him to let her see him married before she died. And so
+he let her have her way. No, don't look concerned. Lady Rotherwood is an
+excellent, good woman, just the wife for him, and he knows it, and does as she
+tells him most faithfully and gratefully. They are pattern-folk from top to toe,
+and so is the boy. But the girl! He would have his way, and named her
+Phyllis--Fly he calls her. She is a little skittish elf--Rotherwood himself all
+over; and doesn't he worship her! and doesn't he think it a holiday to carry her
+off to play pranks with! and isn't he happy to get amongst a good lot of us, and
+be his old self again!'</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER VIII<br>
+MY PERSECUTED UNCLE</h3>
+
+<p>Dolores was allowed to go to Casement Cottage on Sunday. It was always rather
+an awful thing to her to get through the paddock when the farmer's cattle turned
+out there. She did not mind it so much in the broad road and in the midst of a
+large party, with Hal among them, and no dogs; but alone with only one
+companion, and in the easy path which was the shortest way to the cottage, she
+winced and trembled at the little black, shaggy Scotch oxen, with white horns
+and faces that looked to her very wild and fierce.</p>
+<p>'Oh, Gillian, those creatures! Can't we go the other way?'</p>
+<p>'No; it is a great deal further round, and there's no time. They won't hurt.
+The farmer engaged not to turn out anything vicious here.'</p>
+<p>'But how can he be sure?'</p>
+<p>'Well, don't come if you don't like it,' said Gillian, impatiently. 'It is
+your own concern. I must go.'</p>
+<p>Dolores did not like the notion of Constance being told that she would not
+come because she was afraid of the oxen. She thought it very unkind of Gillian,
+but she came, and kept carefully on the side furthest from the formidable
+animals. And Gillian really was forbearing. She did make allowances for the
+London-bred girl's fears; and the only thing she did was, that when one of the
+animals lifted up its head and looked, and Dolores made a spring as if to run
+away, she caught the girl's arm, crying, 'Don't! That's the very way to make him
+run after you.'</p>
+<p>They got safe out of the paddock at last, and rang at the door. They were
+both kissed, Dolores with especial affectionateness, because the good ladies
+pitied her so much; and then while Miss Hacket and Gillian went off to their
+class, Constance took Dolores up into her own room, and began to tell her how
+disappointed she was not to have seen more of her at the Festival.</p>
+<p>'But those curates would not let me alone. I was obliged to attend to them.'</p>
+<p>And then she was very eager to know all about Lord Rotherwood, which rather
+amazed Dolores, who had been in the habit of hearing her father mention him as
+'that mad fellow Rotherwood,' while her mother always spoke with contempt of
+people who ran after lords and ladies, and had been heard to say that Lord
+Rotherwood himself was well enough, but his wife was a mere fine lady.</p>
+<p>But Dolores had a matter on which she was very anxious.</p>
+<p>'Connie, do they always read one's letters first? I mean the old people, like
+Aunt Lily.'</p>
+<p>'What! has she been reading your letters?'</p>
+<p>'She says she always shall, except father's and Maude Sefton's, because papa
+spoke to her about that. She took a letter of mine the other day, and never let
+me have it till the evening, and I am sure Aunt Jane put her up to it.'</p>
+<p>'You poor darling!' exclaimed Constance. 'Was it anything you cared about?'</p>
+<p>'Oh no--not that--but there might be. And I want to know whether she has the
+right.'</p>
+<p>'I should not have thought Lady Merrifield would have been so like an old
+schoolmistress. Miss Dormer always did, the old cat! where I went to school,'
+said Constance. 'We did hate it so! She looked over every one's letters, except
+parents', so that we never could have anything nice, except by a chance or so.'</p>
+<p>'It is tyranny,' said Dolores, solemnly. 'I do not see why one should submit
+to it.'</p>
+<p>'We had dodges,' continued Constance, warming with the history of her
+school-days, and far too eager to talk to think of the harm she might be doing
+to the younger girl. 'Sometimes, when a lot of us went to a shop with one of the
+governesses, one would slip out and post a letter. Fraulein was so
+short-sighted, she never guessed. We used to call her the jolly old Kafer. But
+Mademoiselle was very sharp. She once caught Alice Bell, so that she had to make
+an excuse and say she had dropped something. You see, she really had--the letter
+into the slit.'</p>
+<p>'But that was an equivocation.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, you darling scrupulous, long-worded child! You aren't like the girls at
+Miss Dormer's, only she drove us to it, you know. You'll be horribly shocked,
+but I'll tell you what Louie Preston did. There was a young man in the town whom
+she had met at a picnic in the holidays--a clerk, he was, at the bank--and he
+used to put notes to her under the cushions at church; but one unlucky Sunday,
+Louie had a cold and didn't go, and she told Mabel Blisset to bring it, and
+Mabel didn't understand the right place, and went poking about, so that Miss
+Dormer found it out, and there was such a row!'</p>
+<p>'Wasn't that rather vulgar?' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Well, he was only a clerk, but he was a duck of a man, with regular auburn
+hair, you know. And he sang! We used to go to the Choral Society concerts, and
+he sang ballads so beautifully, and always looked at Louie!'</p>
+<p>'I should not care for anything of that sort,' said Dolores. 'I think it is
+bad form.'</p>
+<p>'So it is,' said Constance, seriously, 'only one can't help recollecting the
+fun of the thing, and what one was driven to in those days. Is there any one you
+are anxious to correspond with?'</p>
+<p>'Not in particular, only I can't bear to have Aunt Lilias meddling with my
+letters; and there's a poor uncle of mine that I know would not like her, or any
+of the Mohuns, to see his letters.</p>
+<p>'Indeed! Your poor mamma's brother?' cried Constance, full of curiosity.</p>
+<p>'Mind, it is in confidence. You must never tell any one.'</p>
+<p>'Never. Oh, you may trust me!' cried Constance.</p>
+<p>'Her half-brother,' said Dolores; and the girl proceeded to tell Constance
+what she had told Maude Sefton about Mr. Flinders, and how her mother had been
+used to assist him out of her own earnings, and how he had met her at Exeter
+station, and was so disappointed to have missed her father. Constance listened
+most eagerly, greatly delighted to have a secret confided to her, and promising
+to keep it with all her might.</p>
+<p>'And now,' said Dolores, 'what shall I do? If poor Uncle Alfred writes to me,
+Aunt Lilias will have the letter and read it, and the Mohuns are all so stuck
+up; they will despise him, and very likely she will never let me have the
+letter.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but, dear, couldn't you write here, with my things, and tell him how it
+is, and tell him to write under cover to me?'</p>
+<p>'Dear Connie! How good you are! Yes, that would be quite delightful!'</p>
+<p>All the confidences and all the caresses had, however, taken quite as long as
+the G.F.S. class, and before Constance had cleared a space on the table for
+Dolores's letter, there was a summons to say that Gillian was ready to go home.</p>
+<p>'So early!' said Constance. 'I thought you would have had tea and stayed to
+evening service.'</p>
+<p>'I should like it so much,' cried Dolores, remembering that it would spare
+her the black oxen in the cross-path, as well as giving her the time with her
+friend.</p>
+<p>So they went down with the invitation, but Gillian replied that mamma always
+liked to have all together for the Catechism, and that she could not venture to
+leave Dolores without special permission.</p>
+<p>'Quite right, my dear,' said Miss Hacket. 'Connie would be very sorry to do
+anything against Lady Merrifield's rules. We shall see you again in a day or
+two.'</p>
+<p>And this is the way in which Constance kept her friend's secret. When Miss
+Hacket had done her further work with a G.F.S. young woman who needed private
+instruction to prepare her for baptism, the two sisters sat down to a leisurely
+tea before starting for evensong; in the first place, Constance detailed all she
+had discovered as to the connection with Lord Rotherwood, in which subject, it
+must be confessed, good Miss Hacket took a lively interest, having never so
+closely encountered a live marquess, 'and so affable,' she contended; upon which
+Constance declared that they were all stuck-up, and were very unkind and hard to
+poor darling Dolores.</p>
+<p>'I don't know. I cannot fancy dear Lady Merrifield being unkind to any one,
+especially a dear girl as good as an orphan,' said Miss Hacket, who, if not the
+cleverest of women, was one of the best and most warm-hearted. 'And, indeed,
+Connie, I don't think dear Gillian and Mysie feel at all unkindly to their
+cousin.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! that's just like you, Mary. You never see more than the outside, but
+then I am in dear Dolly's confidence.'</p>
+<p>'What do you mean, Connie?' said Miss Hacket, eagerly.</p>
+<p>Constance had come home from school with the reputation of being much more
+accomplished than her elder sister, who had grown up while her father was a
+curate of very straitened means, and thus, though her junior, she was thought
+wonderfully superior in discernment and everything else.</p>
+<p>'Well,' said Constance, 'what do you think of Lady Merrifield sending her to
+bed for staying late here that morning?'</p>
+<p>'That was strict, certainly; but you know she sent Mysie too. It was all my
+own thoughtlessness for detaining them,' said the good elder sister. 'I was so
+grieved!'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Constance, 'it sounds all very well to say Mysie was treated in
+the same way, but in the afternoon Mysie was allowed to go and make messes with
+blackberry jam, while poor Dolly was kept shut up in the schoolroom!'</p>
+<p>Constance did not like Lady Merrifield, who had unconsciously snubbed some of
+her affectations, and nipped in the bud a flirtation with Harry, besides calling
+off some of the curates to be helpful. But Miss Hacket admired her neighbour as
+much as her sister would permit, and made answer--</p>
+<p>'It is so hard to judge, my dear, without knowing all. Perhaps Mysie had
+finished her lessons.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! I know you always are for Lady Merrifield! But what do you say, then, to
+her prying into all that poor child's correspondence?'</p>
+<p>'My dear, I think most people do think it advisable to have some check on
+young girl's letters. Perhaps Dolores's father desired it.'</p>
+<p>'He never put on any restrictions,' said Constance. 'I am sure he never
+would. Men don't. It is always women, with their nasty, prying, tyrannous
+instincts.'</p>
+<p>'I am sure,' returned Mary, 'one would not think a child like Dolores Mohun
+could have anything to conceal.'</p>
+<p>'But she has!' cried Constance.</p>
+<p>'No, my dear! Impossible!' exclaimed Miss Hacket, looking very much shocked.
+'Why, she can't be fourteen!'</p>
+<p>'Oh! it is nothing of that sort. Don't think about that, Mary.'</p>
+<p>'No, no, I know, Connie dear; you would never listen to any young girl's
+confidence of that kind--so improper and so vulgar,' said Miss Hacket, and
+Constance did not think it necessary to reveal her knowledge of the post-office
+under the cushions at church, and other little affairs of that sort.</p>
+<p>'It is her uncle,' said Constance. 'Her mother, it seems, though quite a
+lady, was the daughter of a professor, a very learned man, very distinguished,
+and all that, but not a high family enough to please the Mohuns, and they never
+were friendly with her, or treated her as an equal.'</p>
+<p>'That couldn't have been Lady Merrifield,' persevered Miss Hacket. 'She
+lamented to me herself that she had been out of England for so many years that
+she had scarcely seen Mrs. Maurice Mohun.'</p>
+<p>'Well, there were the Miss Mohuns and all the rest!' said Constance. 'Why,
+Dolores has only once been at the family place. And her mother had a brother, an
+author and a journalist, a very clever man, and the Mohuns have always regularly
+persecuted him. He has been very unfortunate, and Mrs. Maurice Mohun has done
+her utmost to help him, writing in periodicals and giving the proceeds to him.
+Wasn't that sweet? And now Dolores feels quite cut off from him; and she is so
+fond of him, poor darling for her mother's sake.'</p>
+<p>Tender-hearted as Miss Hacket was, she had seen enough of life to have some
+inkling of what being very unfortunate might sometimes mean.</p>
+<p>'I should think,' she said, 'that Lady Merrifield would never withhold from
+the child any letter it was proper she should have, especially from a relation.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but I tell you she did keep back a letter on the festival day till she
+had looked at it. Poor Dolores saw it come, and she saw a glance pass between
+her and Miss Mohun, and she is quite sure, she says, her Aunt Jane had been
+poisoning her mind about this poor persecuted uncle, and that she shall never be
+allowed to hear from him.'</p>
+<p>'I don't suppose there can be much for him to say to her,' said Miss Hacket.
+Then, after a little reflection, 'Connie, my dear, I really think you had better
+not interfere. There may be reasons that this poor child knows nothing about for
+keeping her aloof from this uncle.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! but her mother helped him.'</p>
+<p>'She was his sister. That was quite another thing. Indeed, Connie,' said Miss
+Hacket, more earnestly, 'I am quite sure that you will use your influence--and
+you have a great deal of influence, you know--most kindly by persuading this
+dear child to be happy with the Merrifields and submit to their arrangements.'</p>
+<p>'You are infatuated with Lady Merrifield,' muttered Constance. 'Ah! how
+little you know!'</p>
+<p>Here the first warning note of the bell ended the discussion, and Constance
+did not think it necessary to tell her sister of the offer she had made to
+Dolores. In her eyes, Mary, who was the eldest of the family, had always been of
+the dull, grown-up, authoritative faction of the elders, while she herself was
+still one of the sweet junior party, full of antagonism to them, and ready to
+elude them in any way. Besides, she had promised her darling Dolores; and the
+thing was quite romantic; nor could any one call it blame-worthy, since it was
+nothing like a lover--not even a young man, but only a persecuted uncle in
+distress.</p>
+<p>So she awaited anxiously the next Sunday when Dolores's letter was to be
+written in her room. To tell the truth, Dolores could quite as easily have
+written in her own, and brought down the letter in her pocket, if she had been
+eager about the matter; but she was not, except under the influence of making a
+grievance. She had never written to Uncle Alfred in her life, nor he to her; and
+his visits to her mother had always led to something uncomfortable. Nor would
+she have thought about the subject at all if it had not been for the sore sense
+that she was cut off from him, as she fancied, because he belonged to her
+mother.</p>
+<p>Nothing particular had happened that week. There had been no very striking
+offences one way or the other; she was working better with her lessons and
+understanding more of Miss Vincent's methods. She perceived that they were
+thorough, and respected them accordingly, and she had had the great satisfaction
+of getting more good marks for French and German than Mysie. She had become
+interested in 'The Old Oak Staircase,' and began to look forward to Aunt Lily's
+readings as the best part of the day. But she had not drawn in the least nearer
+to any of the family. She absolutely disliked, almost hated, the quarter of an
+hour which Aunt Lily devoted to her religious teaching every morning, though
+nobody was present, not even Primrose. She nearly refused to learn, and said as
+badly as possible the very small portions she was bidden to learn by heart, and
+she closed her mind up against taking in the sense of the very short readings
+and her aunt's comments on them. It seemed to her to be treating her like a
+Sunday-school child, and insulting her mother, who had never troubled her in
+this manner. Her aunt said no word of reproach, except to insist on attention
+and accuracy of repetition; but there came to be an unusual gravity and
+gentleness about her in these lessons, as if she were keeping a guard over
+herself, and often a greatly disappointed look, which exasperated Dolores much
+more than a scolding.</p>
+<p>Mysie had left off courting her cousin, finding that it only brought her
+rebuffs, and went her own way as before, pleased and honoured when Gillian would
+consort with her, but generally paring with her younger sister.</p>
+<p>Dolores, though hitherto ungracious, missed her attentions, and decided that
+they were 'all falseness.' Wilfred absolutely did tease and annoy her whenever
+he could, Fergus imitated him, and Valetta enjoyed and abetted him. These three
+had all been against her ever since the affair of the arrow; but Wilfred had not
+many opportunities of tormenting her, for in the house there was a perpetual
+quiet supervision and influence. Mrs. Halfpenny was sure to detect traps in the
+passage, or bounces at the door. Miss Vincent looked daggers if other people's
+lesson books were interfered with. Mamma had eyes all round, and nobody dared to
+tease or play tricks in her presence. Hal, Gillian, and even Mysie always
+thwarted such amiable acts as putting a dead wasp into a shoe, or snapping a
+book in the reader's face; while, as to venturing into the general family active
+games, Dolores would have felt it like rushing into a corobboree of savages!</p>
+<p>There was one wet afternoon when they could not even get as far as to the
+loft over the stables; at least the little ones could not have done so, and it
+was decided that it would be very cruel to them for all the others to run off,
+and leave them to Mrs. Halfpenny; so the plan was given up.</p>
+<p>Partly because Lady Merrifield thought it very amiable in Mysie and Valetta
+to make the sacrifice, and partly to disperse the thundercloud she saw gathering
+on Wilfred's brow, she not only consented to a magnificent and extraordinary
+game at wolves and bears all over the house, but even devoted herself to keeping
+Mrs. Halfpenny quiet by shutting herself into the nursery to look over all the
+wardrobes, and decide what was to 'go down' in the family, and what was to be
+given away, and what must be absolutely renewed. It was an operation that Mrs.
+Halfpenny enjoyed so much, that it warranted her to be deaf to shrieks and
+trampling, and almost to forget the chances of gathers and kilting being torn
+out, and trap-doors appearing in skirts and pinafores.</p>
+<p>All that time Dolores sat hunched up in her own room, reading 'Clare, or No
+Home,' and realizing the persecutions suffered by that afflicted child, who had
+just been nearly drowned in rescuing her wickedest cousin, and was being carried
+into her noble grandfather's house, there to be recognized by her golden hair
+being exactly the colour it was when she was a baby.</p>
+<p>There were horrible growlings at times outside her door, and she bolted it by
+way of precaution. Once there was a bounce against it, but Gillian's voice might
+be heard in the distance calling off the wolves.</p>
+<p>Then came a lull. The wolves and bears had rushed up and down stairs till
+they were quite exhausted and out of breath, especially as Primrose had always
+been a cub, and gone in the arms of Hal or Gillian; Fergus at last had rolled
+down three steps, and been caught by Wilfred, who, in his character of bear,
+hugged and mauled him till his screams grew violent. Harry had come to the
+rescue, and it was decided that there had been enough of this, and that there
+should be a grand exhibition of tableaux from the history of England in the
+dining-room, which of course mamma was to guess, with the assistance of any one
+who was not required to act.</p>
+<p>Mama, ever obliging, hastily condemned two or three sunburnt hats and ancient
+pairs of shoes, to be added to the bundle for Miss Hacket's distribution, and
+let herself be hauled off to act audience.</p>
+<p>'But where's Dolly?' she asked, as she looked at the assemblage on the
+stairs.</p>
+<p>'Bolted into her room, like a donkey,' said Wilfred, the last clause under
+his breath.</p>
+<p>'Indeed, mamma, we did ask her, and gave her the choice between wolves and
+bears,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Unfortunately she is bear without choosing,' said Gill.</p>
+<p>'A sucking of her paws in a hollow tree,' chimed in Hal.</p>
+<p>'Hush! hush!' said Lady Merrifield, looking pained; 'perhaps the choice
+seemed very terrible to a poor only child like that. We, who had the luck to be
+one of many, don't know what wild cats you may all seem to her.'</p>
+<p>'She never will play at anything,' said Val.</p>
+<p>'She doesn't know how to,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'And won't be taught,' added Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'But that's very dreadful,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield. 'Fancy a poor child of
+thirteen not knowing how to play. I shall go and dig her out!'</p>
+<p>So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to which Dolores answered--</p>
+<p>'Can't you let me alone? Go away,' thinking it a treacherous ruse of the
+enemy to effect an entrance; but when her aunt said--</p>
+<p>'Is there anything the matter, my dear? Won't you let me in?' she was obliged
+to open it.</p>
+<p>'No, there's nothing the matter,' she allowed. 'Only I wanted them to let me
+alone.'</p>
+<p>'They have not been rude to you, I hope.'</p>
+<p>Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention the bouncing, so she
+allowed that no one had been rude to her, but she hated romping, which she
+managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt for suffering it.</p>
+<p>However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said--</p>
+<p>'Ah! you have not been used to wholesome exercise in large families. I dare
+say it seems formidable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale. I can't allow
+you to stay stuffed up there, poking over a book all the afternoon. It is very
+bad for you. We are going to have some historical tableaux. They are to have one
+set, and I thought perhaps you and I would get up some for them to guess in
+turn.'</p>
+<p>Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she did not quite dare to say
+she did not choose to make herself ridiculous, and she knew there was authority
+in the tone, so she followed and endured.</p>
+<p>So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before the bright grate in the
+dining-room, and having his ears beautifully boxed. Also Knut and the waves,
+which were graphically represented by letting the wind in under the drugget, and
+pulling it up gradually over his feet, but these, Mysie explained, were only for
+the little ones. Rollo and his substitute doing homage to Charles the Simple,
+were much more effective; as Gillian in that old military cloak of her father's,
+which had seen as much service in the play-room as in the field, stood and
+scowled at Wilfred in the crown and mamma's ermine mantle, being overthrown by
+Harry at his full height.</p>
+<p>The excitement was immense when it was announced that mamma had a tableau to
+represent with the help of Dolores, who was really warming a little to the
+interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike being dressed up with one of
+the boy's caps with three ostrich feathers, to accompany her aunt in hood and
+cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who had, together with the bow and papa's old
+regimental sword, been borrowed to personate the robber of Hexham. Everybody
+screamed with ecstasy except Fergus, who thought it very hard that he should not
+have been Prince Edward instead of a stupid girl.</p>
+<p>So, to content all parties, mama undertook to bring in as many as possible,
+and a series from the life of Elizabeth Woodville was accordingly arranged.</p>
+<p>She stood under the oak, represented by the hall chandelier, with Fergus and
+Primrose as her infant sons, and fascinated King Edward on the rocking-horse,
+which was much too vivant, for it reared as perpendicularly as it could, and
+then nearly descended on its nose, to mark the rider's feelings.</p>
+<p>Then, with her hair let down, which was stipulated for, though, as she
+observed, nothing would make it the right colour, she sat desolate on the
+hearth, surrounded by as many daughters as could be spared from being
+spectators, as her youngest son was born off from her maternal arms by a being
+as like a cardinal as a Galway cloak, disposed tippet fashion, could make him.</p>
+<p>She could not be spared to put up her hair again before she had to forget her
+maternal feelings and be mere audience, while her two sons were smothered by
+Mysie and Dolores, converted into murderers one and two by slouched hats.
+Fergus, a little afraid of being actually suffocated, began to struggle, setting
+off Wilfred, and the adventure was having a conclusion, which would have
+accounted for the authentic existence of Perkin Warbeck, when--oh horror! there
+was a peal at the door-bell, and before there was a moment for the general
+scurry, Herbert the button-boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted Mr.
+Leadbitter, to whom, as a late sixth standard boy, he had a special allegiance,
+and, having spied him coming, hurried to let him in out of the rain instantly.</p>
+<p>At least, such was the charitable interpretation. Harry strongly suspected
+that the imp had been a concealed spectator all the time, and had particularly
+relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which, after all, was much greater on
+the part of the Vicar than any one else, as he was a rather stiff, old-fashioned
+gentleman. Lady Merrifield only laughed, said she had been beguiled into wet day
+sports with the children, begged him to excuse her for a moment or two, and
+tripped away, followed by Gillian to help her, quickly reappearing in her lace
+cap as the graceful matron, even before Mr. Leadbitter had quite done blushing
+and quoting to Harry 'desipere in loco,' as he was assisted off with his
+dripping, shiny waterproof.</p>
+<p>After all no harm would have been done if--Harry and Gillian being both off
+guard--Valetta had not exclaimed most unreasonably in her disappointment--</p>
+<p>'I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores came in for it.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Mr. Murderer, you squashed my little finger and all but smothered me,'
+cried Fergus, throwing himself on Dolores and dropping her down.</p>
+<p>'Don't! don't! you know you mustn't,' screamed valiant Mysie, flying to the
+rescue.</p>
+<p>'Murderers! Murderers must be done for,' shouted Wilfred, falling upon Mysie.</p>
+<p>'You shan't hurt my Mysie,' bellowed Valetta, hurling herself upon Wilfred.</p>
+<p>And there they were all in a heap, when Gillian, summoned by the shrieks,
+came down from helping her mother, pulled Valetta off Wilfred, Wilfred off
+Mysie, Mysie off Fergus, and Fergus off Dolores, who was discovered at the
+bottom with an angry, frightened face, and all her hair standing on end.</p>
+<p>'Are you hurt, Dolores? I am very sorry,' said Gillian. 'It was very naughty.
+Go up to the nursery, Fergus and Val, and be made fit to be seen.'</p>
+<p>They obeyed, crestfallen. Dolores felt herself all over. It would have been
+gratifying to have had some injury to complain of, but she had fallen on the
+prince's cushions, and there really was none. So she only said, 'No, I'm not
+hurt, though it is a wonder;' and off she walked to bolt herself into her own
+room again, there to brood on Valetta's speech.</p>
+<p>It worked up into a very telling and pathetic history for Constance's
+sympathizing ears on Sunday, especially as it turned out to be one of the things
+not reported to mamma.</p>
+<p>And on that day, Dolores, being reminded of it by her friend, sent a letter
+to Mr. Flinders to the office of the paper for which he worked in London, to
+tell him that if he wished to write to her as he had promised he must address
+under cover to Miss Constance Hacket, Casement Cottage, as otherwise Aunt Lilias
+would certainly read all his letters.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER IX.<br>
+LETTERS</h3>
+
+<p>Constance Hacket was very much excited about the address to Dolores's letter
+to her uncle. She had not noticed it at the moment that it was written, but she
+did when she posted it; and the next time she could get her young friend alone,
+she eagerly demanded what Mr. Flinders had to do with the Many Tongues, and why
+her niece wrote to him at the office.</p>
+<p>'He writes the criticisms,' said Dolores, magnificently; for though she
+despised pluming herself on any connection with a marquess, she did greatly
+esteem that with the world of letters. 'You know we are all literary.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, I know! But what kind of criticisms do you mean? I suppose it is a
+very clever paper?'</p>
+<p>'Of course it it,' said Dolores, 'but I don't think I ever saw it. Father
+never takes in society papers. I believe he does criticisms on plays and novels.
+I know he always has tickets for all the theatres and exhibitions.</p>
+<p>She did not say how she did know it, for a pang smote her as she remembered
+dimly a scene, when her father had forbidden her mother to avail herself of
+escort thus obtained. Nor was she sure that the word all was accurately the
+fact; but it was delightful to impress Constance, who cried, 'How perfectly
+delicious! I suppose he can get any article into his paper!'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, of course,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Did your dear mother write in it?'</p>
+<p>'No; it was not her line. She used to write metaphysical and scientific
+articles in the first-class reviews and magazines, and the Many Tongues is what
+they call a society paper, you know.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, I know. There are charming things about the Upper Ten Thousand. They
+tell all that is going on, but I hardly ever can see one. Mary won't take in
+anything about Church Bells, and we get the Guardian when it is a week old, and
+my brother James has done with it.'</p>
+<p>'Dear me! How dreadful!' said Dolores, who had been used to see all manner of
+papers come in as regularly as hot rolls. 'Why, you never can know anything! We
+didn't take in society papers, because father does not care for gossip or
+grandees. He has other pursuits. I can show you some of dear mother's articles.
+There's one called "Unconscious Volition," and another on the 'Progress of
+Species.' I'll bring them down next time I come.'</p>
+<p>'Have you read them?'</p>
+<p>'No; they are too difficult. Mother was so very clever, you know.'</p>
+<p>'She must have been,' said Constance, with a sigh; 'but how did she get them
+published?'</p>
+<p>'Sent them to the editor, of course,' said Dolores. 'They all knew her, and
+were glad to get anything that she wrote.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! that is what it is to have an introduction,' sighed Constance.</p>
+<p>'What! have you written anything?' cried Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Only a few little trifles,' said Constance, modestly. 'It is a great secret,
+you know, a dead secret.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! I'll keep it. I told you my secret, you know, so you might tell me
+yours.'</p>
+<p>And so to Dolores were confided sundry verses and tales on which Constance
+had been wont to spend a good deal of her time in that pretty sitting-room. She
+had actually sent her manuscripts to magazines, but she had heard no more of
+one, and the other had been returned declined with thanks--all for want of an
+introduction. Dolores was delighted to promise that as soon as she heard from
+Uncle Alfred, she would get him to patronize them, and the reading occupied
+several Sunday afternoons. Dolores suggested, however, that a goody-goody story
+about a choir-boy lost in the snow would never do for the Many Tongues, and a
+far more exciting one was taken up, called 'The Waif of the Moorland,' being the
+story of a maiden, whom a wicked step-mother was suspected of murdering, but who
+walked from time to time like the 'Woman in White.' There was only too much time
+for the romance; for weeks passed and there was no answer from Mr. Flinders. It
+was possible that he might have broken off his connection with the paper, only
+then the letter would probably have been returned; and the other alternative was
+less agreeable, that it was not worth his while to write to his niece. While as
+to Maude Sefton, nothing was heard of her. Were her letters intercepted? And so
+the winter side of autumn set in. Hal was gone to Oxford, and there had been
+time for letters to come from Mr. Mohun, posted from Auckland, New Zealand,
+where he had made a halt with his sister, Mrs. Harry May, otherwise Aunt
+Phyllis. Dolores was very much pleased to receive her letter, and to have it all
+to herself; but, after all, she was somewhat disappointed in it, for there was
+really nothing in it that might not have been proclaimed round the
+breakfast-table, like the public letters from that quarter of the family who
+were at Rawul Pindee. It told of deep-sea soundings and investigations into the
+creatures at the bottom of the sea, of Portuguese men-of-war, and albatrosses;
+and there were some orders to scientific-instrument makers for her to send to
+them--a very improving letter, but a good deal like a book of travels. Only at
+the end did the writer say, 'I hope my little daughter is happy among her
+cousins, and takes care to give her aunt no trouble, and to profit by her kind
+care. Your three cousins here, Mary, Lily, and Maggie, are exceedingly nice
+girls, and much interested about you; indeed, they wish I had brought you with
+me.'</p>
+<p>Dolores read her letter over and over and over, for the pleasure of having
+something all to herself, and never communicated a word about the miscroscopic
+monsters her father had described, but she drew her head back and reflected, 'He
+little knows,' when he spoke of her being happy among her cousins.</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield likewise received a letter, about which she did not say much
+to her children, but Miss Mohun, who had had a much longer one, came over for
+the day to read this to her sister. In point of fact, she had paired in
+childhood with her brother Maurice. She had been his correspondent in school and
+college days, and being a person never easily rebuffed, she had kept up more
+intercourse with him and his wife than any others of the family had done, and he
+had preserved the habit of writing to her much more freely and unreservedly than
+to any one else. So the day after the New Zealand letters came, just as the
+historical reading and needlework were in full force, the schoolroom door was
+opened, and a brisk little figure stood there in sealskin coat and hat.</p>
+<p>Up jumped mamma. 'Oh! Jenny! Brownie indeed! How did you come? You didn't
+walk from the station?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, why not? Otherwise I should have been too soon, and have disturbed the
+lessons,' said Aunt Jane, in the intervals of the greeting kisses. 'All well
+with the Indian folks?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes; they've come back from the emerald valleys of Cashmere, and Alethea
+has actually sent me a primrose--just like an English one--that they found
+growing there. They did enjoy it so. Have you heard from Maurice?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, I thought you would like to hear about Phyllis, so, having enjoyed it
+with Ada, I brought it over for further enjoyment with you.'</p>
+<p>'That's a dear old Brownie! We've a good hour before dinner. Shall we read it
+to the general public, or shall we adjourn to the drawing-room?'</p>
+<p>&quot;Oh! I assure you it is very instructive. Quite as much so as Miss
+Sewell's 'Rome.'&quot;</p>
+<p>And Aunt Jane, whom Gillian had aided in disrobing herself of her outdoor
+garments, was installed by the fire, and unfolded a whole volume of thin, mauve
+sheets in Mr. Mohun's tiny Greek-looking handwriting.</p>
+<p>It was a sort of journal of his voyage. There were all the same accounts of
+the minute creatures that are incipient chalk, and their exquisite cells, made,
+some of coral, some of silex spicule from sponges; the some descriptions of
+phosphorescent animals, meduse, and the like, that Dolores had thought her own
+special treasure and privilege, only a great deal fuller, and with the
+scientific terms untranslated--indeed, Aunt Jane had now and then to stop and
+explain, since she had always kept up with the course of modern discovery. There
+was also much more about his shipmates, with one or two of whom Mr. Mohun had
+evidently made great friends. He told his sister a great deal about them, and
+his conversations with them, whereas he had only told Dolores abut one little
+midshipman getting into a scrape. Perhaps nothing else was to be expected, but
+it made her feel the contrast between being treated with real confidence and as
+a mere child, and it seemed to put her father further away from her than ever.</p>
+<p>Then came the conclusion, written on shore--</p>
+<p>'Harry May came on board to take me home with him. He is a fine, genial
+fellow and his welcome did one's heart good. I never did him justice before; but
+I see his good sense and superiority called into play out here. Depend upon it,
+there's nothing like going to the other end of the world to teach the value of
+home ties.'</p>
+<p>'Well done, Maurice,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield; but she glanced at Dolores
+and checked herself.</p>
+<p>Miss Mohun went on, 'Phyllis met me at the door of a pleasant,
+English-looking house, with all her tribe about her. She has the true 'honest
+Phyl' face still, carrying me back over some thirty or forty years of life, and
+as you would imagine, she is a capital mother, with all her flock well in hand,
+and making themselves thoroughly useful in the scarcity of servants; though the
+other matters do not seem neglected. The eldest can talk like a well informed
+girl, and shows reasonable interest in things in general; but Phyllis wants to
+put finishing touches to their education, and her husband talks of throwing up
+his appointment before long, as he is anxious to go home while his father lives.
+I wish I had gone to Stoneborough before coming out here, now that I see what a
+gratification it would have been if I could have brought a fresh report of old
+Dr. May. (Somehow, I think there has been a numbness or obtuseness about me all
+these last two years which hindered me from perceiving or doing much that I now
+regret, since either the change or the wholesome atmosphere of this house has
+wakened me as it were. Among these ungracious omissions is what I now am much
+concerned to think of, that I never went to see Lilias when I committed my child
+to her charge; nor talked over her disposition. Not that I really understand it
+as I ought to have done when the poor child was left to me. I take shame to
+myself when Phyllis questions me about her), but as I watch these children with
+their parents I am quite convinced that the being taken under Lily's motherly
+wing is by far the best thing that could have befallen Dolores, and that my
+absence is for her real benefit as well as mine.'</p>
+<p>The part between brackets was omitted by Miss Mohun in the public reading,
+but the last sentence she did read, thinking it good for both parties to hear
+it. However, Dolores both disliked the conclusion to which her father had come,
+and still more that her aunt and cousins should hear it, though, after all, it
+was only Gillian and Mysie who remained to listen by the time the end of the
+letter was reached. The long words had frightened away Valetta as soon as her
+appointed task of work was finished.</p>
+<p>Aunt Lily did not see the omitted sentence till the two sisters were alone
+together later in the afternoon. It filled her eyes with tears. 'Poor Maurice,'
+she said; 'he wrote something of the same kind to me.'</p>
+<p>'I expect we shall see him wonderfully shaken up and brightened when he comes
+home. The numbness he talks of was half of it Mary's dislike to us all, only I
+never would let her keep me aloof from him.'</p>
+<p>'I almost wish he had taken Dolores out to Phyllis. I am not in the least
+fulfilling his ideal towards her.'</p>
+<p>'Nor would Phyllis, unless the voyage had had as much effect on her as it
+seems to have had upon Maurice. So you don't get on any better?'</p>
+<p>'Not a bit. It is a case of parallel lines. We don't often have
+collisions--unless Wilfred gets an opportunity of provoking her.'</p>
+<p>'Why don't you send that boy to school?'</p>
+<p>'I shall after Christmas. He is quite well now, and to have him at home is
+bad both for himself and the others. He needs licking into shape as only boys
+can do to one another, and he is not a model for Fergus, especially since Harry
+has been away.'</p>
+<p>'What does he do?'</p>
+<p>'Nothing very brilliant, nor of the kind one half forgives for the drollery
+of it. Putting mustard into the custard was the worst, I think; inciting the
+dogs to bring the cattle down on the girls when they cross the paddock; shutting
+up their books when the places are found--those are the sort of things; putting
+that very life-like wild cat chauffe-pied with glaring eyes in Dolly's bed. I
+believe he does such things to all, but his sisters would let him torture them
+rather than complain, whereas Dolores does her best to bring them under my
+notice without actually laying an information, which she is evidently afraid to
+do. It is very unlucky that her coming should have been just when we had such an
+element about--for it really gives her some just cause of complaint.'</p>
+<p>'But you say he is impartial?'</p>
+<p>'Teasing is unfortunately his delight. He will even frighten Primrose, but I
+am afraid there is active dislike making Dolores his favourite victim; and then
+Val and Fergus, who don't tease actively on their own account, have come to
+enjoy her discomfiture.'</p>
+<p>&quot;And you go on the principle of 'tolerer beaucoup?'&quot;</p>
+<p>'I do; hoping that it is not laziness and weakness that makes me abstain from
+nagging about what is not brought before my eyes by the children or the
+police--I mean Gill, Halfpenny, and Miss Vincent. Then I scold, or I punish, and
+that I think maintains the principle, without danger to truth or forbearance. At
+least, I hope it does. I am pretty sure that if I punished Wilfred for every
+teasing trick I know, or guess at, he would--in his present mood--only become
+deceitful, and esprit de corps might make Val and Fergus the same, though I
+don't think Mysie's truth could be shaken any more than honest Phyl's.'</p>
+<p>'Besides, mutual discipline is not a thing to upset. Lily, I revere you! I
+never thought you were going to turn out such a sensible mother.'</p>
+<p>'Well, you see, the difficulty is, that what may work for one's own children
+may not work for other people's. And I confess I don't understand her persistent
+repulse of Mysie.'</p>
+<p>'Nor of you, the nasty little cat!' said Aunt Jane, with a little fierce
+shake of the head.</p>
+<p>'I do understand that a little. I am too unlike Mary for her to stand being
+mothered by me.'</p>
+<p>'There must be some other influence at work for this perverseness to keep on
+so long. Tell me, did she take up with that very goosey girl, that Miss Hacket?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes; she goes there every Sunday afternoon. It is the only thing the poor
+child seem much to care about, and I don't think there can be any harm in it.'</p>
+<p>'Humph! the folly of girl is unfathomable! Oh! you may say what you like--you
+who have thrown yourself into your daughters and kept them one with you. You
+little know in your innocence the product of an ill-managed boarding-school!'</p>
+<p>'Nay,' said Lady Merrifield, a little hotly, 'I do know that Miss Hacket is
+one of the most excellent people in the world, a little tiresome and borne,
+perhaps, but thoroughly good, and every inch a lady.'</p>
+<p>'Granted, but that's not the other one--Constance is her name? My dear, I saw
+her goings on at the G.F.S. affair--If she had only been a member, wouldn't I
+have been at her.'</p>
+<p>'My dear Jenny, you always had more eyes to your share than other people.'</p>
+<p>'And you think that being an old maid has not lessened their sharpness, eh!
+Lily? Well, I can't help it, but my notion is that the sweet Constance--whatever
+her sister may be--is the boarding-school miss a little further developed into
+sentiment and flirtation.'</p>
+<p>'Nay, but that would be so utterly uncongenial to a grave, reserved,
+intellectual girl, brought up as Dolores has been.'</p>
+<p>'Don't trust to that! Dolores is an interesting orphan, and the notice of a
+grown-up young lady is so flattering that it carries off a great deal of folly.'</p>
+<p>'Well, Jenny, I must think about it. I hope I have done no harm by allowing
+the friendship--the only indulgence she has seemed to wish for; and I am afraid
+checking it would only alienate he still more! Poor Maurice, when he is trusting
+and hoping in vain!'</p>
+<p>'Three year is a long time, Lily; and you have no had three months of her
+yet--'</p>
+<p>The door opened at that moment for the afternoon tea, which was earlier than
+usual, to follow of Miss Mohun's reaching the station in time for her train.
+Lady Merrifield was to drive her, and it was the turn of Dolores to go out, so
+that she shared the refection instead of waiting for gouter. In the midst the
+Miss Hackets were announced, and there were exclamations of great joy at the
+sight of Miss Mohun; as she and Miss Hacket flew upon each other, and to the
+very last moment, discussed the all-engrossing subject of G.F.S. politics.</p>
+<p>Nevertheless, while Miss Mohun was hurrying on her sealskin in her sister's
+room, she found an opportunity of saying, 'Take care, Lily, I saw a note pass
+between those two.'</p>
+<p>'My dear Jenny, how could you? You were going on the whole time about cards
+and premiums and associates. Oh! yes, I know a peacock or a lynx is nothing to
+you, but how was it possible? Why, I was making talk to Constance all along, and
+trying to make Dolly speak of her father's letter.'</p>
+<p>'I might retort by talking of moles and bats! Did you never hear of the
+London clergyman whose silver cream-jug, full of cream too, was abstracted by
+the penitent Sunday school boy whom he was exhorting over his breakfast-table?'</p>
+<p>'I don't believe London curates have silver jugs or cream either!'</p>
+<p>'A relic of past wealth, like St. Gregory's one silver dish, and perhaps it
+was milk. Well, to descend to particulars. It was done with a meaning glance, as
+Dolores was helping her on with her cloud, and was instantly disposed of in the
+pocket.'</p>
+<p>'I wonder what I ought to do about it,' sighed Lady Merrifield, 'If I had
+seen it myself I should have no doubts. Oh! if Jasper were but here! And yet it
+is hardly a thing to worry him about. It is most likely to be quite innocent.'</p>
+<p>'Well, then you can speak of the appearance of secrecy as bad manners. You
+will have her all to yourself as you go home.'</p>
+<p>But when the aunts came downstairs, Dolores was not there. On being called,
+she sent a voice down, over the balusters, that she was not going.</p>
+<p>Aunt Jane shrugged her shoulders. There was barely time to reach the train,
+so that it was impossible to do anything at the moment; but in the Merrifield
+family bad manners and disrespect were never passed over, Sir Jasper having made
+his wife very particular in that respect; and as soon as she came home in the
+twilight, she looked into the school-room, but Dolores was not there, and then
+into the drawing-room, where she was found learning her lessons by firelight.</p>
+<p>'My dear, why did you not go with your Aunt Jane and me?'</p>
+<p>'I did not want to go. It was so cold,' said Dolores in a glum tone.</p>
+<p>'Would it not have been kinder to have found that out sooner? If I had not
+met the others in the paddock, and picked up Valetta, the chance would have been
+missed, and you knew she wanted to go.'</p>
+<p>Dolores knew it well enough. The reason she was in this room was that all the
+returning party had fallen upon her; Wilfred had called her a dog in the manger,
+and Gillian herself had not gainsayed him--but the general indignation had only
+made her feel, 'what a fuss about the darling.'</p>
+<p>'Another time, too,' added Lady Merrifield, 'remember that it would be proper
+to come down and speak to me instead of shouting over the balusters in that
+unmannerly way; without so much as taking leave of your Aunt Jane. If she had
+not been almost late for her train, I should have insisted.'</p>
+<p>'You might, and I should not have come if you had dragged me,' thought, but
+did not say, Dolores. She only stood looking dogged, and not attempting the 'I
+beg your pardon,' for which her aunt was waiting.</p>
+<p>'I think,' said Lady Merrifield, gently, 'that when you consider it a little,
+you will see that it would be well to be more considerate and gracious. And one
+thing more, my dear, I can have no passing of private notes between you and
+Constance Hacket. You see a good deal of each other openly, and such doings are
+very silly and missish, and have an underhand appearance such as I am sure your
+father would not like.'</p>
+<p>Dolores burst out with, 'I didn't,' and as Primrose at this instant ran in to
+help mamma take off her things, she turned on her heel and went away, leaving
+Lady Merrifield trusting to a word never hitherto in that house proved to be
+false, rather than to those glances of Aunt Jane, which had been always held in
+the Mohun family to be a little too discerning and ubiquitous to be always
+relied on; and it was a satisfactory recollection that at the farewell moment
+when Miss Jane professed to have observed the transaction, she had been heard
+saying, 'Yes, it will never do to be too slack in inquiring into antecedents, or
+the whole character of the society will be given up,' and with her black eyes
+fixed full upon Miss Hacket's face.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER X.<br>
+THE EVENING STAR</h3>
+
+<p>'Oh, Connie dear, I had such a fright! Do you know you must never venture to
+give me anything when any one is there--especially Aunt Jane. I am sure it was
+her. she is always spying about?'</p>
+<p>'Well, but dearest Dolly, I couldn't tell that she would be there, and when I
+got your letter I could not keep it back, you know, so I made Mary come up and
+call on Lady Merrifield for the chance of being able to give it to you--and I
+thought it was so lucky Miss Mohun was there, for she and Mary were quite
+swallowed up in their dear G.F.S.'</p>
+<p>'You don't know Aunt Jane! And the worst of it is she always makes Aunt
+Lilias twice as cross! I did get into such a row only because I didn't want to
+go driving with the two old aunts in the dark and cold, and be scolded all the
+way there and back.'</p>
+<p>'When you had a letter to read too!'</p>
+<p>'And then Aunt Lily said all manner of cross things about giving notes
+between us. I was so glad I could say I didn't, for you know I didn't give it to
+you, and it wasn't between us.'</p>
+<p>'You cunning child!' laughed Constance, rather amused at the sophistry.</p>
+<p>'Besides,' argued Dolores, 'what right has she to interfere between my uncle
+and my friends and me?</p>
+<p>'You dear! Yes, it is all jealousy!'</p>
+<p>'I have heard--or I have read,' said Dolores, 'that when people ask questions
+they have no right to put, it is quite fair to give them a denial, or at least
+to go as near the wind as one can.'</p>
+<p>'To be sure,' assented Constance, 'or one would not get on at all! But you
+have no told me a word about your letters.'</p>
+<p>'Father's letter? Oh, he tells me a great deal about his voyage, and all the
+funny creatures they get up with the dredge. I think he will be sure to write a
+book about them, and make great discoveries. And now he is staying with Aunt
+Phyllis in New Zealand, and he is thinking, poor father, how well off I must be
+with Aunt Lilias. He little knows!'</p>
+<p>'Oh, but you could write to him, dearest!'</p>
+<p>'He wouldn't get the letter for so long. Besides, I don't think I could say
+anything he would care about. Gentlemen don't, you know.'</p>
+<p>'No! gentlemen can't enter into our feelings, or know what it is to be rubbed
+against and never appreciated. But your uncle! Was the letter from him?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes! And where do you think he is? At Darminster--editing a paper there.
+It is called the Darminster Politician. He said he sent a copy here.'</p>
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, I know; Mary and I could not think where it came from. It had a
+piece of a story in it, and some poetry. I wonder if he would put in my 'Evening
+Star.'&quot;</p>
+<p>'You may read his letter if you like; you see he says he would run over to
+see me if it were not for the dragons.'</p>
+<p>'I wish he could come and meet you here. It would be so romantic, but you see
+Mary is half a dragon herself, and would be afraid of Lady Merrifield'--then,
+reading the letter,--'How droll! How clever! What a delightful man he must be!
+How very strange that all your family should be so prejudiced against him! I'll
+tell you what, Dolores, I will write and subscribe for the Darminster Politician
+my own self--I must see the rest of that story--and then Mary can't make any
+objection; I can't stand never seeing anything but Church Bells, and then you
+can read it too, darling.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, thank you, Connie. Then I shall have got him one subscriber, as he asks
+me to do. I am afraid I shan't get any more, for I thought Aunt Lily was in a
+good humour yesterday, and I put one of the little advertisement papers he sent
+out on the table, and she found it, and only said something about wondering who
+had sent the advertisement of that paper that Mr. Leadbitter didn't approve of.
+She is so dreadfully fussy and particular. She won't let even Gillian read
+anything she hasn't looked over, and she doesn't like anything that isn't goody
+goody.'</p>
+<p>'My poor darling! But couldn't you write and get your uncle to look at some
+of my poor little verses that have never seen the light?'</p>
+<p>'I dare say I could,' said Dolores, pleased to be able to patronize. 'Oh, but
+you must not write on both sides of the paper, I know, for father and mother
+were always writing for the press.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, I'll copy them out fresh! Here's the 'Evening Star.' It was suggested by
+the sound of the guns firing at the autumn manoevres; here's the 'Bereaved
+Mother's Address to her Infant:'</p>
+
+<p>'Sweet little bud of stainless white,<br>
+Thou'lt blossom in the garden of light.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mary thought that so sweet she asked Miss Mohun to send it to Friendly
+Leaves, but she wouldn't--Miss Mohun I mean; she said she didn't think they
+would accept it, and that the lines didn't scan. Now I'm sure its only Latin and
+Greek that scan! English rhymes, and doesn't scan! That's the difference!'</p>
+<p>'To be sure!' said Dolores, 'but Aunt Jane always does look out for what
+nobody else cares about. Still I wouldn't send the baby-verses to Uncle Alfred,
+for they do sound a little bit goody, and the 'Evening Star' would be better.'</p>
+<p>The verses were turned over and discussed until the summons came to tea,
+poured out by kind old Miss Hacket, who had delighted in providing her young
+guests with buttered toast and tea cakes.</p>
+<p>Dolores went home quite exhilarated and unusually amiable.</p>
+<p>Her letter to her father was finished the next day. It contained the
+following information.</p>
+<p>'Uncle Alfred is at Darminster. He is sub-editor to the Politician, the
+Liberal county paper. I do not suppose Aunt Lilias will let me see him, for she
+does not like anything that dear mother did. There is a childish obsolete tone
+of mind here; I suppose it is because they have never lived in London, and the
+children are all so young of their age, and so rude, Wilfred most especially.
+Even Gillian, who is sixteen, likes quite childish games, and Mysie, who is my
+age, is a mere child in tastes, and no companion. I do wish I could have gone
+with you.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield wrote by the same mail, 'Your Dolores is quite well, and
+shows herself both clever and well taught. Miss Vincent thinks highly of her
+abilities, and gets on with her better than any one else, except the daughter of
+our late Vicar, for whom she has set up a strong girlish friendship. She plainly
+has very deep affections, which are not readily transferred to new claimants,
+but I feel sure that we shall get on in time.'</p>
+<p>Miss Mohun wrote, 'Lily and I enjoyed your letter together. Dolly looks all
+the better for country life, though I am afraid she has not learnt to relish it,
+nor to assimilate with the Merrifield children as I expected. I don't think Lily
+has quite fathomed her as yet, but 'cela viendra' with patience, only mayhap not
+without a previous explosion. I fancy it takes a long time for an only child to
+settle in among a large family. It was a great pity you could not see Lily
+yourself. To my dismay I encountered Flinders in the street at Darminster last
+week. I believe he is on the staff of a paper there, happily Dolly does not know
+it, nor do I think he knows where she is.'</p>
+<p>In another three weeks, Constance was in the utmost elation, for 'On hearing
+the cannonade of the Autumn Manoeuvres' was in print, and Miss Hacket was so
+much delighted that justice should be done to her sister's abilities, that she
+forgot Mr. Leadbitter's disapproval, and ordered half a dozen copies of the
+Politician for the present, and one for the future.</p>
+<p>Dolores, walking home in the twilight, could not help showing Gillian, in
+confidence, the precious slip, though it was almost too dark to read the small
+type.</p>
+<p>'Newspaper poetry, I thought that always was trumpery,' said Gillian, making
+a youthfully sweeping assertion.</p>
+<p>'Many great poets have begun with a periodical press,' said Dolores, picking
+up a sentence which she had somewhere read.</p>
+<p>'I thought you hated English poetry, Dolly! You always grumble at having to
+learn it.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, that is lessons.'</p>
+<p>&quot;'Il Penseroso,' for instance.&quot;</p>
+<p>'This is a very different thing.'</p>
+<p>'That it certainly is,' said Gillian, beginning to read--</p>
+
+<p>'How lovely mounts the evening star<br>
+Climbing the sunset skies afar.'</p>
+
+<p>'What a wonderful evening! Why, the evening star was going up backward!'</p>
+<p>'You only want to make nonsense of it.'</p>
+<p>'It is not I that make nonsense!' said Gillian, 'why, don't you see, Dolly,
+which way the sun and everything moves?'</p>
+<p>'This is the evening star,' said Dolores, sulkily. 'It was just rising.'</p>
+<p>'I do believe you think it rises in the west.'</p>
+<p>'You always see it there. You showed it to me only last Sunday.'</p>
+<p>'Do you think it had just risen?'</p>
+<p>'Of course the stars rise when the sun sets.'</p>
+<p>Gillian could hardly move for laughing. 'My dear Dolores, you to be daughter
+to a scientific man! Don't you know that the stars are in the sky, going on all
+the time, only we can't see them till the sunlight is gone?'</p>
+<p>But Dolores was too much offended to attend, and only grunted. She wanted to
+get the cutting away from Gillian, but there was no doing so.</p>
+
+<p>'The mist is rising o'er the mead,<br>
+With silver hiding grass and reed;<br>
+'Tis silent all, on hill and heath,<br>
+The evening winds, they hardly breathe;<br>
+What sudden breaks the silent charm,<br>
+The echo wakes with wild alarm.<br>
+With rapid, loud, and furious rattle,<br>
+Sure 'tis the voice of deadly battle,<br>
+Bidding the rustic swain to fly<br>
+Before his country's enemy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did anybody ever hear of a sham fight in the evening?' cried the soldier's
+daughter indignantly. 'There, I can't see any more of it.'</p>
+<p>'Give it to me, then.'</p>
+<p>'You are welcome! Where did it come from? Let me look. C.H. Oh, did Constance
+Hacket write it? Nobody else could be so delicious, or so far superior to
+Milton.'</p>
+<p>'You knew it all the time, and that was the reason you made game of it.'</p>
+<p>'No, indeed it was not, Dolores. I did not guess. You should have told me at
+first.'</p>
+<p>'You would have gone on about it all the same.'</p>
+<p>'No, indeed, I hope not. I did not mean to vex you; but how was I to know it
+was so near your heart?'</p>
+<p>'I ought to have known better than to have shown it to you! You are always
+laughing at her and me all over the house--and now--'</p>
+<p>'Come, Dolly. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I will promise not to tell
+the others about it.'</p>
+<p>No answer. There was something hard and swelling in Dolores's throat.</p>
+<p>'Won't that do?' said Gillian. 'You know I can't say that I admire it, but
+I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'll take care the others don't tease you about it.'</p>
+<p>Dolores made hardly any answer, but it was a sort of pacification, and
+Gillian said not a word to the younger ones. Still she thought it no breach of
+her promise, when they were all gone to bed, and she the sole survivor, to tell
+her mother how inadvertently she had affronted Dolores by cutting up the verses,
+before she knew whose they were.</p>
+<p>'I am sorry,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Anything that tends to keep Dolores
+aloof from us is a pity.'</p>
+<p>'But, mama, I had no notion whose they were.'</p>
+<p>'You saw that she was pleased with them.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but that was the more ridiculous. Fancy the evening star climbing
+up--up--you know in the sunset!'</p>
+<p>'Portentous, certainly! Yet still I wish you could have found it in your
+heart to take advantage of any feeler towards sympathy.'</p>
+<p>'How could I pretend to admire such stuff?'</p>
+<p>'You need not pretend; but there are two ways of taking hold of a thing
+without being untrue. If you had been a little wiser and more forbearing you
+need not have given Dolores such a shock as would drive her in upon herself.
+Depend upon it, the older you grow, the more dangerous you will find it to begin
+by hitting the blots.'</p>
+<p>Gillian looked on in some curiosity when the next day good Miss Hacket,
+enchanted with her dear Connie's success, trotted up to display the lines to
+Lady Merrifield, who on her side felt bound to set an example alike of
+tenderness and sincerity, and was glad to be able to observe, 'The lines run
+very smoothly. This must be a great pleasure to her.'</p>
+<p>'Indeed it is! Connie is so clever. I always say I can't think where she got
+it from; but we always tried to give her very advantage, and she was quite a
+favourite pupil at Miss Dormer's. Is not it a sweet idea, the stillness of the
+evening broken by the sounds of battle, and then it proving to be only our brave
+defenders?'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' was the answer. 'I have often thought of that, and of what it might be
+to hear those volleys of musketry in earnest. It has made me very thankful.'</p>
+<p>So Miss Hacket went away gratified, and Gillian owned that it would have been
+useless to wound the good lady's feelings by criticism, though her mother made
+her understand that if her opinion had been asked, or Connie herself had shown
+the verses, it would have been desirable to point out the faults, in a kindly
+spirit. The wonder was, how they could have found their way into the paper, and
+they were followed by more with the like signature.</p>
+<p>Indeed, the great sensational tale, 'The Waif of the Moorland,' was being
+copied out of the books where it had been first written. Dolores had sounded Mr.
+Flinders on the subject, and he had replied that he could ensure its
+consideration by a publisher, but that her fair friend must be aware that an
+untried author must be prepared for some risk.</p>
+<p>Constance could hardly abstain from communicating her hopes to her sister;
+but Mr. Leadbitter--to whom the poetry was duly shown--had given such a
+character of the Darminster Politician that Miss Hacket besought Constance to
+have no more to do with it. Besides, she was so entirely a lady, and so
+conscientious, that all her tender blindness would not have prevented her from
+being shocked at encouraging, or profiting by, a surreptitious correspondence.</p>
+<p>Constance declared that Mr. Leadbitter's objection to the paper was merely
+political, and her sister was too willing that she should be gratified to
+protest any further. The copying had to be done in secret, since it was
+impossible to confess the hopes founded on Mr. Flinders, and it therefore lasted
+several weeks, each fresh portion being communicated to Dolores on Sunday
+afternoons. There were at first a few scruples on Constance's part whether this
+were exactly a Sunday occupation; but Dolores pronounced that 'the Sabbatarian
+system was gone out,' and after Constance had introduced the ghostly double of
+her vanished waif walking in a surpliced procession, she persuaded herself that
+there was a sufficient aroma of religion about the story to bring it within the
+pale of Sunday books.</p>
+<p>The days were shortening so that Lady Merrifield had doubts as to the fitness
+of letting the girls return in the dark, but Gillian would have been grieved to
+relinquish her class, and the matter was adjusted by the two remaining till
+evensong, when there was sure to be sufficient escort for them to come home
+with.</p>
+<p>Therewith arrived the holidays and Jasper, whose age came between those of
+Gillian and Mysie. Dolores had looked forward to his coming, for, by all the
+laws of fiction, he was bound to be the champion of the orphan niece, and
+finally to develop into her lover and hero. In 'No Home,' when Clare's aunt
+locked her up and fed her on bread and water for playing the piano better than
+her spiteful cousin Augusta, Eric, the boy of the family, had solaced her with
+cold pie and ice-creams drawn up in a basket by a cord from the window. He had
+likewise forced from his cruel mother the locket which proved Clare's identity
+with the mourning countess's golden-haired grandchild and heiress, and he had
+finally been rewarded with her hand, becoming in some mysterious manner Lord
+Eric.</p>
+<p>Jasper, however, or Japs, as his family preferred to call him, proved to be a
+big, shy boy, not at all delighted with the introduction of a stranger among his
+sisters, neither golden-haired nor all-accomplished, only making him feel his
+home invaded, and looking at him with her great eyes.</p>
+<p>'Is that girl here for good?' he asked, when he found himself with Harry and
+Gillian.</p>
+<p>'Yes, of course,' said the cousin, 'while her father is away, and that is for
+three years.'</p>
+<p>Jasper whistled.</p>
+<p>'Aunt Ada said,' added Gillian, 'that if she got too tiresome, mamma had
+Uncle Maurice's leave to send her to school.'</p>
+<p>'That would be no good to me,' said Jasper, 'for she would still be here in
+the holidays.'</p>
+<p>'Has she been getting worse?' asked Harry.</p>
+<p>'No, I don't know that she has,' said Gillian, 'except that she runs after
+that Constance more than ever. But, I say, Jasper, mamma says she is
+particularly anxious that there should be no teasing of her; and you can hinder
+Wilfred better than anybody can. She wants her to be really at home, and one--'</p>
+<p>But though Jasper was very fond both of mother and sister, he would not stand
+a second-hand lecture, and broke in with an inquiry about chances of
+rabbit-shooting.</p>
+<p>Among his juniors he heard more opinions and more undisguised, when the whole
+party had rushed out together to the stable-yard to inspect the rabbits and
+other live-stock.</p>
+<p>'And Dolly says you are a fright,' sighed Mysie, condoling with a very
+awkward-looking puppy which she was nursing.</p>
+<p>'She! she thinks everything a fright!' said Valetta.</p>
+<p>'Except Constance,' added Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'Who is ugliest of all!' politely chimed in Fergus.</p>
+<p>'Oh, Japs, she is such a nasty girl--Dolly, I mean!' cried Valetta.</p>
+<p>&quot;You know you ought not to say 'nasty,'&quot; exclaimed Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Well, but she is!' insisted Val. 'She squashed a dear little lady-bird, and
+said it would sting!'</p>
+<p>'She really thought it would,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>At which the young barbarians shouted aloud with contempt, and Valetta added.
+'She is afraid of everything--cows and dogs and frogs.'</p>
+<p>'I got a whole match-box full of grasshoppers to shut up in her desk and make
+her squall,' said Wilfred, 'only the girls went and turned them out.'</p>
+<p>'It was so cruel to the poor grasshoppers,' said Mysie. 'One had his horn
+broken, and dragged his leg.'</p>
+<p>'What does she do?' asked Jasper.</p>
+<p>'She's always cross,' said Fergus.</p>
+<p>'And she won't play,' added Valetta. 'And never will lend us anything of
+hers.'</p>
+<p>'And she's a regular sneak,' said Wilfred. 'She wants to tell of
+everything--only we stopped that and she doesn't dare now.'</p>
+<p>'You see,' said Mysie, gravely, 'she has always lived alone and in London,
+and that makes her horribly stupid about everything sensible. We thought we
+should soon teach her to be nice; and mamma says we shall if we are patient.'</p>
+<p>'We'll teach her, won't we, Japs!' said Wilfred, aside, in an ominous voice.</p>
+<p>'She is only thirteen,' added Valetta, 'and she pretends to be grown up, and
+only to care for a grown-up young lady--that Constance Hacket.'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' added Mysie, 'only think--they write poetry!'</p>
+<p>'What rot it must be!' said Jasper. 'There's a man in my house that writes
+poetry, and don't they chaff him! And this must be ever so much worse.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, that it is,' said Valetta. 'I heard Mr. Poulter and Miss Vincent
+laughing about it like anything.'</p>
+<p>'But they get it put into print,' said Mysie, still impressed. 'Miss Hacket
+brought it up to give to mamma, and there's ever so much of it shut up in the
+drawing-room blotting-book with the malachite knobs. I can't think why they
+laugh--I think it is very pretty. Old Miss Hacket read me the one about "My Lost
+Dove."'</p>
+<p>'Mysie always will stick up for Dolores,' said Valetta in a grumbling voice.</p>
+<p>'I always meant her to be my friend,' said Mysie, disconsolately.</p>
+<p>'Well, I'm glad she's not,' said Jasper. 'What a sell it would have been for
+me to find you chummy with a stupid, poetry-writing, good-for-nothing girl like
+that, instead of my jolly old Mice!'</p>
+<p>And at that minute all Dolly's slights were fully compensated for!</p>
+<p>There was a lurking purpose in the boys' minds that if Dolores would not join
+in fun, yet still fun should be extracted from her. Jasper had brought home a
+box of Japanese fireworks, and Wilfred, who was superintending his unpacking,
+proposed to light the serpent and place it in Dolores's path as she was going up
+to bed; but Jasper was old enough to reply that he would have no concern with
+anything so low and snobbish as such a trick. In fact, there was in Jasper's
+mind a decided line between bullying and teasing, which did not exist as yet in
+Wilfred's conscience. And, altogether, Dolores was in a state of mind that made
+her stiff letters to her father betray low spirits and discontent.</p>
+<p>On Sunday, while waiting for the early dinner, Jasper and Mysie happened to
+be together in the drawing-room, and Mysie took the opportunity of showing her
+brother the different cuttings of poetry. The lines were smooth, and some had a
+certain swing in them such as Mysie, with an unformed taste, a love for Miss
+Hacket, and amazement that the words of a familiar acquaintance of her own
+should appear in print, genuinely admired. But the eyes of a youth exercised in
+'chaffing' the productions of one of his fellow 'men' were infinitely more
+critical. Besides, what could be more shocking to the General's son than the
+confusion between the evening gun and the sham fight? And Mysie had been reduced
+to confusion for not detecting the faults, and then pardoned in consideration of
+being only a girl, by the time the gong summoned them to the Sunday roast beef.</p>
+<p>The dinner over, the female part of the family, scampered headlong upstairs,
+while Harry repaired with his mother to her room to talk over a letter from his
+father respecting his plans on leaving Oxford. The other boys hung about the
+hall, until Gillian and Dolores came down equipped for walking. 'Hollo, Gill!
+All right! Where's Mysie? We'll be off! Mysie! Mice! Mouse! Val!'</p>
+<p>'You must wait for them, Japs,' said Gillian. 'They are having their dresses
+changed; and, don't you remember, I always go to Miss Hacket's.'</p>
+<p>'Botheration! What for?'</p>
+<p>'You know very well.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes. To help her to write touching verses about the sweet dead dove, with
+voice and plumage soft as love, eh? Only, Gill, I'm afraid your memory is
+failing, if you don't know the evening gun from rifle practice.'</p>
+<p>'Nonsense! that's no concern of mine,' said Gillian, opening the front door,
+very anxious to get Dolores away from hearing anything worse.</p>
+<p>'Oh, that's your modesty. Only such a conjunction could have produced such a
+scene that the evening star came up backwards to look at it!'</p>
+<p>'For shame, Jasper! How in the world did you get hold of that?'</p>
+<p>'Too sweet a thing not to meet with universal fame,' said Jasper, to whom it
+was exquisite fun to assume that Gillian devoted her Sunday afternoons to the
+concoction of such poetry with Constance Hacket, and thus to revenge himself for
+his disgust and jealousy at having his favourite companion and slave engrossed.
+Wilfred hopped about like an imp in ecstasy, grinning in the face of Dolores,
+whom Gillian longed to free from her tormentors. The shout was welcome, as Mysie
+and Valetta came tearing down the drive after them.</p>
+<p>'Japs! Japs! Oh, we couldn't come before because nurse would make us take off
+our Sunday serges. Come and let out the dogs. Mamma says we may see if there are
+any nice fir cones in the plantation to gild for the Christmas-tree.'</p>
+<p>'And you won't come?' said Jasper. 'The Muses must meet. What a poem you will
+produce!</p>
+
+<p>'Hear I a cannon or a rifle,<br>
+That is an unessential trifle!'</p>
+
+<p>'What nonsense boys do talk!' said Gillian, turning her back on them with
+regret; for much as she loved her class, she better loved a walk with Jasper,
+and here was Dolores on her hands in a state of exasperation, believing her to
+have broken her promise, and muttering,</p>
+<p>'You set him on.'</p>
+<p>'No, indeed I never did! You know I promised.'</p>
+<p>'There are plenty of ways of getting out of a promise.'</p>
+<p>'Speak for yourself, Dolores.'</p>
+<p>There were ten minutes of offended silence, and then Gillian said, 'This is
+nonsense! You may believe me, I was sorry I laughed at the first verses you
+showed me, and mamma said I ought not. We never spoke of it, but Miss Hacket has
+been giving mamma all the poems, and Jasper must have got at them. Don't you
+see?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, you say so,' said Dolores, sulkily.</p>
+<p>'You don't believe me!'</p>
+<p>'You promised that your brothers should never hear of it.'</p>
+<p>'I promised for myself. I couldn't promise for what was put into a newspaper
+and trumpeted all over the place,' said Gillian, really angry now.</p>
+<p>Dolores could not deny this, but she was hurt by the word trumpeted; and
+besides, her own slippery behaviour was weakening her trust in other people's
+sincerity, and she only gave a kind of grunt; but Gillian, recovering herself a
+little, and remembering her mother's words, proceeded to argue. 'Besides, it was
+me whom Jasper meant to tease, not you.'</p>
+<p>'I don't care which it was. He is as bad as the rest of them!'</p>
+<p>Gillian attempted no more conciliation, and they arrived in silence at the
+Casement Cottages, where Constance was awaiting her friend in the greatest
+excitement; for she had despatched 'The Waif of the Moorland' to Mr. Flinders in
+the course of the week, and had received a letter from him in return, saying
+that a personal interview with the gifted authoress would be desirable.</p>
+<p>'And I do long to see him; don't you, darling?</p>
+<p>'It is very hard that he should be kept away from me,' said Dolores, trying
+to stir up some tender feelings.</p>
+<p>'That it is, my poor sweet! I thought whether he could come to me for a
+merely literary consultation without Mary's knowing anything further about it,
+and then we could contrive for you to come down and meet him; but there are so
+many horrid prejudices that I suppose it would not be safe.'</p>
+<p>'I don't see how I could come down here without the others. Aunt Lily won't
+let me come alone, and though it is holiday time, that is no good, for those
+horrid boys are always about, and I see that Jasper is going to be worse even
+than Wilfred.</p>
+<p>Various ways and means were discussed, but no excuse seemed available for
+either Constance's going to Darminster, or for Mr. Flinders coming to Silverton,
+without exciting suspicion.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XI.<br>
+SECRET EXPEDITION</h3>
+
+<p>'The Christmas-tree! Oh, mamma, do let it be the Christmas-tree. It is quite
+well. We've been to look at it.'</p>
+<p>'Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'Rot!' put in Jasper.</p>
+<p>'Oh, please, please, mamma,' implored Valetta, 'please let it be the dear old
+Christmas-tree! You said I should choose because it will be my birthday.'</p>
+<p>'There is no need to whine, Val; you shall have your tree.'</p>
+<p>'I'm so glad!' cried Mysie. 'The dear old tree is best of all. I could never
+get tired of it if I lived to be a hundred years old.'</p>
+<p>'Such are institutions,' said their mother. 'I never heard of a
+Christmas-tree till I was twice your age.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, mamma! How dreadful! What did you do?'</p>
+<p>'I suppose it is all very well for you kids,' said Jasper, loftily, putting
+his hands in his pockets.</p>
+<p>'Perhaps something may be found interesting eve: to the high and mighty
+elders,' observed Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'Oh! What, mamma?'</p>
+<p>Mamma, of course, only looked mysterious.</p>
+<p>'And,' added Val, 'mayn't we all go on a secret expedition and buy things
+for it?'</p>
+<p>'We've all been saving up,' added Mysie; 'and everybody knows every single
+thing in all the shop at Silverton.'</p>
+<p>'Besides,' added Gillian, 'the sconces will none of them hold, and almost all
+the golden globes got smashed in coming from Dublin, and one of the birds has
+its head off, and another has lost its spun-glass tail, and another its legs.'</p>
+<p>'A bird of Paradise,' said Lady Merrifield, laughing; 'but wasn't there a
+tree at Malta decked with no apparatus at all?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but Alley and Phyl can do anything!'</p>
+<p>'I think we must ask Aunt Jane---'</p>
+<p>There was a howl. 'Oh, please, mamma, don't let Aunt Jane get all the things!
+We do so want to choose.'</p>
+<p>'You impatient monsters! You haven't heard me out, and you don't deserve it.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, mamma, I beg your pardon!' 'Oh, mamma, please!' 'Oh, mamma, pray!' cried
+the most impatient howlers, dancing round her.</p>
+<p>'What I was about to observe, before the interruption by the honourable
+members, was, that we might perhaps ask Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada to receive at
+luncheon a party of caterers for this same tree.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! oh! oh!' 'How delicious!' 'Hooray!' 'That's what I call jolly fun!'</p>
+<p>'And, mamma,' added Gillian, 'perhaps we might let Miss Hacket join. I know
+she wants to get up something for a G.F.S. class; but mamma was attending to
+Primrose, and the brothers burst in.</p>
+<p>'There goes Gill, spoiling it all!' exclaimed Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'That's always the way,' said Jasper. 'Girls must puzzle everything up with
+some philanthropic Great Fuss Society dodge.'</p>
+<p>'I am sure, Jasper,' said Gillian, 'I don't see why it should spoil anything
+to make other people happy. I thought we were told to make feasts not only for
+our own friends--'</p>
+<p>'Gill's getting just like old Miss Hacket,' said Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'Or sweet Constance,' put in Jasper. 'She'll be writing poems next.'</p>
+<p>'Hush! hush! boys,' said Lady Merrifield. 'I do not mean to interfere with
+your pleasure, 'but I had rather our discussions were not entirely selfish.
+Suppose, Gillian, we walked down to Casement Cottages, and consulted Miss
+Hacket.'</p>
+<p>This was done, in the company of all the little girls, for Miss Hacket's
+cats, doves, and gingerbread were highly popular; moreover, Dolores was glad of
+a chance sight of Constance.</p>
+<p>'My dear,' said Lady Merrifield, as Gillian walked beside her, 'you must be
+satisfied with giving Miss Hacket the reversion of our tree, and you and Mysie
+can go and help her. It will not do to make these kind of works a nuisance to
+your brothers.'</p>
+<p>'I did not think Jasper would have been so selfish as to object,' said
+Gillian, almost tearfully.</p>
+<p>'Remember that boys have a very short time at home, and cannot be expected to
+care for these things like those who work in them,' said Lady Merrifield. 'It
+will not make them do so, to bore them, and take away their sense of home and
+liberty. At the same time, they must not expect to have everything sacrificed to
+them, and so I shall make Jasper understand.'</p>
+<p>'You won't scold him, mamma?'</p>
+<p>'Can't you, any of you, trust me, Gill?'</p>
+<p>'Oh! mamma! Only I didn't want him to think. I wouldn't do everything he
+liked, except that I don't want him to be unkind about those poor girls.'</p>
+<p>Miss Hacket was perfectly enraptured at the offer of the reversion of the
+Christmas-tree and its trapping. Valetta's birthday was on the 28th of December
+and the tree was to be lighted on the ensuing evening for G.F.S. Moreover, the
+party would go to Rockstone as soon as an appointment could be made with Miss
+Mohun, to make selections at a great German fancy shop, recently opened there,
+and in full glory; and the Hacket sisters were invited to join the party,
+starting at a quarter to eight, and returning at a few minutes after seven, the
+element of darkness at each end only adding to the charm in the eyes of the
+children, and Valetta, with a little leap, repeated that it would be a real
+secret expedition.</p>
+<p>'Very secret indeed,' said her mother, 'considering how many it is known
+to--'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but it is, mamma, for everybody has a secret from everybody.'</p>
+<p>The words made Constance and Dolores look round with a start from their
+colloquy under the shade of the window-curtains, but no one was thinking of
+them. Just as the plans were settled, Constance came forward, saying, 'Lady
+Merrifield, may I have dear Dolores to spend the day with me? We neithe of us
+wish to join your kind party to Rockstone, and we should so enjoy being
+together.'</p>
+<p>'I had much rather stay,' added Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Very well,' said Lady Merrifield, reflecting that her sisters would be
+grateful for the diminution of the party, and that it would be easier to keep
+the peace without Dolores.</p>
+<p>The defection was hailed with joy by her cousins, though they were struck
+dumb at her extraordinary taste in not liking shopping.</p>
+<p>Jasper did look rather small when his mother assured him in private he might
+have trusted her to see that he was not to be incommoded with Gillian's girls,
+and he only observed, in excuse for his murmurs, that it made a man mad to see
+his sisters always off after some charity fad or other.</p>
+<p>&quot;'Always' being a few hours once a week,&quot; she said.</p>
+<p>'Just when one wants her.'</p>
+<p>'Look here, my boy,' she said, 'you don't want your sisters to be selfish,
+useless, fine ladies--never doing any one any good. If they take up good works,
+they can't drop them entirely to wait on you. Gillian does give up a great deal,
+and it would be kinder to forbear a little, and not treat all she does as an
+injury to yourself.'</p>
+<p>'I only meant to get a rise out of her.'</p>
+<p>'You are quite welcome to do that, provided it is done in good nature. Gill
+is quite sound stuff enough to be laughed at! But, I say, my Japs, I should
+prefer your letting Dolores alone; she has not learned to be laughed at yet, and
+has not come even to the stage for being taught to bear it.'</p>
+<p>'She looks fit to turn the cream sour,' observed Jasper. 'I say, mamma, you
+don't want me to go on this shopping business, do you?'</p>
+<p>'Not by any means, sir.'</p>
+<p>Happily, the chance of a day's rabbit shooting presented itself at a warren
+some miles off, and Harry undertook the care of Wilfred, who gave his word of
+honour to obey implicitly and take no liberties with the guns. Fergus would
+gladly have gone with them, but he was still young enough to be sensible of the
+attractions of toy-shops. Only Primrose had to be left to the nursery, and there
+was no need to waste pity on her, for on such an occasion Mrs. Halfpenny would
+relax her mood, and lay herself out to be agreeable, when she had exhausted her
+forebodings about her leddyship making herself ill for a week gaun rampaging
+about with all the bairns, as if she was no better than one herself.</p>
+<p>'I shall let Miss Mohun do most of the rampaging, nurse; but, if it is fine,
+will you take Miss Primrose into the town and let her choose her own cards. I
+have given her a florin, and if you make the most of that for her, she will be
+as happy as going with us.'</p>
+<p>'That I will, my leddy. Bairns is easy content when ye ken how to sort 'em.'</p>
+<p>'And, nurse, I believe there will be a box from Sir Jasper at the station. It
+may come home in the waggonette that takes us. Will you and Macrae get it safe
+into the store-room, for I don't want the children to see it too soon?'</p>
+<p>There was nothing but satisfaction in the house on the morning of the
+expedition. The untimely candle-light breakfast was only a fresh element of
+delight, and so was the paling gas at the station, the round, red sun peeping
+out through a yellow break between grey sky and greyer woods; the meeting Miss
+Hacket in her fur cloak, the taking of the tickets, the coughing of the train,
+the tumbling into one of the many empty carriages, the triumphant start,--all
+seemed as fresh and delicious as if the young people had never taken a journey
+before in all their lives. The fog in the valleys, the sleepy villages, the
+half-roused stations, all gave rise to exclamations, and nothing was regretted
+but that the windows would get clouded over.</p>
+<p>Even the waiting at the junction had its charms, for it was enlivened by a
+supplementary breakfast on rolls and milk! and at a few minutes past eleven the
+train was drawing up at Rockstone, and Aunt Jane, sealskins and all, was
+beckoning from the platform, hurrying after the carriage as it swept past, and
+holding out a hand to jump the party from the door.</p>
+<p>There she was, ready to take them to the most charming and cheapest shops,
+where the coins burning in those five pockets would go the furthest. Go in a
+cab? No, I thank you, it is far more delightful to walk. So mamma and Miss
+Hacket were stowed away in the despised vehicle, to make the purchases that
+nobody cared about, or which were to be unseen and unknown till the great day;
+while Aunt Jane undertook to guide the young people through the town, for her
+house was at the other end of it securing the Christmas-cards on the way, if
+nothin' else. For, though all the cards and gifts to mamma, and a good many
+besides, were of domestic manufacture, some had to be purchased, and she knew,
+this wonderful woman, where to get cards of former seasons at reduced prices to
+suit their youthful finances.</p>
+<p>Considerable patience was requisite before all the choices were made, and the
+balance cast between cards and presents, and Miss Mohun got her quartette past
+all the shop windows, to the seaside villa, shut in by tamarisks, which Aunt
+Adeline believed to be the only place that suited her health. Mamma and Miss
+Hacket had already arrived, and filled the little vestibule with parcels and
+boxes.</p>
+<p>Then the early dinner! The aunts had anticipated their Christmas turkey for
+that goodly company to help them eat it, but afterwards there was only time for
+a mince pie all round; for more than half the work remained to be done by all
+except mamma, who would stay and rest with Aunt Ada, having finished all that
+could not be deputed.</p>
+<p>However, first she had a conference in private with Aunt Jane, who undertook
+therein to come to Silverton for Valetta's birthday, and add astonishment and
+mystery sufficient to satisfy such of the public as were weary of
+Christmas-trees. She added, however, 'You will think I am always at you. Lily,
+but did you know that Flinders is living at Darminster?'</p>
+<p>'No; but it is five and twenty miles off, and he has never troubled us.'</p>
+<p>'Don't be too secure. He is in connection with that low paper--the
+Politician--which methinks, is the place where those remarkable poems of Miss
+Constance's have appeared.'</p>
+<p>'Is it not the way of poetry of that calibre to see the light in county
+papers?'</p>
+<p>'This seems to me of a lower calibre than is likely to get in without private
+interest.'</p>
+<p>'But to my certain knowledge the child has neither written to, nor heard of
+the man all this time,'</p>
+<p>'You don't know what goes on with her bosom friend.'</p>
+<p>'I am certain Miss Hacket would connive at nothing underhand. Besides, I have
+never seen any thing sly or deceitful in poor Dolores. She will not make friends
+with us, that is all, and that may be our fault.'</p>
+<p>'I only say, look out, you unsuspicious dame!'</p>
+<p>'Now, Jenny, satisfy my curiosity as to how you know all this. I am sure I
+never showed you those effusions. We have had trouble enough about them, for the
+children cut them up in a way Dolores has never forgiven.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! Miss Hacket sent them to me, to ask if 'Mollsey to her Babe' and 'The
+Canary' might not be passed on to Friendly Leaves. And as to Flinders, when I
+went to the G.F.S. Conference at Darminster I met the man full in the street,
+and, of course, I inquired afterwards how he came there. So there's nothing
+preternatural about it.'</p>
+<p>'It is well you did not live two hundred years ago, or you would certainly
+have been burnt for a witch.'</p>
+<p>'See what a witch I shall make on the 28th! But I hear those unfortunate
+children dancing and prancing with impatience on the stairs. I must go, before
+they have driven Ada distracted.'</p>
+<p>What would the two aunts have said, could they have seen Dolores and
+Constance, at that moment partaking of the most elaborate meal the Darminster
+refreshment-room could supply, at a little round marble table, in company with
+Mr. Flinders! They had not been obliged to start nearly so early as the other
+party, as the journey was much shorter, and with no change of line, so they had
+quietly walked to the station by ten o'clock, arrived at Darminster at half-past
+eleven, and have been met by the personage whom Dolores recognized as Uncle
+Alfred. Constance was a little disappointed not to see something more
+distinguished, and less flashy in style, but he was so polite and complimentary,
+and made such touching allusions to his misfortunes and his dear sister, that
+she soon began to think him exceedingly interesting, and pitied him greatly when
+he said he could not take them to his lodgings--they were not fit for his niece
+or her friend, who had done him a kindness for which he could never be
+sufficiently grateful, in affording him a glimpse of his dear sister's child. It
+made Dolores wince, for she never could bear the mention of her mother, it was
+like touching a wound, and the old sensation of discomfort and dislike to her
+uncle's company began to grow over her again, now that she was not struggling
+against Mohun opposition to her meeting him. He lionized them about the town,
+but it was a foggy, drizzly day, one of those when the fringe of sea-coast often
+enjoys finer weather than inland places; the streets were very sloppy, and
+Dolores and Constance did not do much beyond purchasing a few cards and some
+presents at a fancy shop, as they had agreed to do, to serve as an excuse for
+their expedition in case it could not be kept a secret, and most of the visit
+was made in the waiting-room at the station, or walking up and down the
+platform. As to the grand point, Mr. Flinders told Constance that her tale was
+talented and striking, full of great excellence; she might hope for success
+equal to Ouida's--but that he had found it quite impossible to induce a
+publisher to accept a work by an unknown author, unless she advanced something.
+He could guarantee the return, but she must entrust him with thirty pounds. Poor
+Constance! it was a fatal blow; she had not thirty pounds in the world; she
+doubted if she could raise the sum, even by her sister's help. Then Mr. Flinders
+sighed, and thought that if he represented the circumstances, the firm might be
+content with twenty--nay, even fifteen. Constance cheered up a little. She did
+think she could make up fifteen, after the 21st, when certain moneys became due,
+which she shared with her sister. She would be left very bare all the
+spring--but what was that to the return she was promised? Only Mr. Flinders
+impressed on her the necessity of secrecy--even from her sister--since, he said,
+if he were once known to have obtained such terms for a young authoress, he
+should be besieged for ever!</p>
+<p>'But, Uncle Alfred,' said Dolores, 'surely my father and mother, and all the
+other people I have known, did not pay to get their things published.'</p>
+<p>'My dear niece, you speak as one who has been with persons of high and
+established fame--the literary aristocracy, in fact. The doors once opened, Miss
+Hacket will, like them, make her own terms; but such doors, like many others,
+are only to be opened by a silver key.'</p>
+<p>There were other particulars which he talked over with the authoress in a
+promenade on the platform while Dolores was left in the waiting-room; but
+afterwards he indulged his niece with a tete-a-tete, asking her father's
+address, and mourning over the length of time it would take to obtain an answer
+from Fiji. Mr. Mohun had promised to help him, solemnly and kindly promised, for
+the sake of her whom they had both loved so much, and here he was, cut off and
+quite in extremity. Unfortunate as usual, through his determined enemies, a
+company in which he had shares had collapsed, he was penniless till his salary
+from the Politician became due in March. Meanwhile, he should be expelled from
+his lodging and brought to ruin if he could not raise a few pounds--even one.</p>
+<p>Dolores had nearly two pounds in her purse. Her father had left her amply
+provided, and she had not much opportunity of spending. She knew he had seen the
+gold when she was shopping, and when she had paid for the refreshments, which of
+course she had found she had to do. With some hesitation she said, 'If thirty
+shillings would be of any good to you--'</p>
+<p>'My dear, generous child, your dear mother's own daughter! It will be the
+saving of me temporarily! But among all your wealthy relatives, surely,
+considering your father's promise, you could obtain some advance until he can be
+communicated with!'</p>
+<p>'If he is still in New Zealand, we could telegraph, and hear directly. He did
+not know how long he should be there, for the ship had something to be done to
+it.'</p>
+<p>This did not suit Mr. Flinders. Such telegrams were very expensive, and it
+was too uncertain whether Mr. Mohun would be at Auckland. Surely, Lady
+Merrifield, whose husband was shaking the pagoda tree, would make an advance if
+she knew the circumstances.</p>
+<p>'I don't think she would,' said Dolores, 'I don't think they are very rich.
+There is only one horse and one little pony, and my cousins have such very tiny
+allowances.'</p>
+<p>'Haughty and poor! Stuck up and skimping. Yes, I understand. But I am not
+asking from her, only an advance, on your father's promise, which he would be
+certain to repay. Yes, quite certain! It is only a matter of time. It would save
+me at the present moment from utter ruin and destruction that would have broken
+your dear mother's heart. Oh! Mary, what I lost in you.' Then, as perhaps he saw
+reflection on Dolores's face, he added, 'She is gone, the only person who took
+an interest in me, so it matters the less, and when you hear again of your
+unhappy uncle you will know what drove him--'</p>
+<p>'If it was only an advance--I have a cheque,' began Dolores. 'If seven pounds
+would do you any good--'</p>
+<p>'It would be salvation!' he exclaimed.</p>
+<p>'Father left it with me,' pursued Dolores, considering, 'in case Professor
+Muhlwasser went on with his great book of coloured plates of microscopic marine
+zoophytes, and sent it in. I was to keep this and pay with it--'</p>
+<p>'Oh! Muhlwasser! you need not trouble about him. I saw his death in the paper
+a month ago.'</p>
+<p>'Then I really think I might send you the cheque, and write to my father why
+I did so.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! Dolly, I knew that your mother's daughter could never desert me.'</p>
+<p>More followed of the same kind, tending to make Dolores feel that she was
+doing a heroically generous thing, and stifling the lurking sense in her mind
+that she had no right to dispose of her father's money without his consent. The
+December day began to close in, the gas was lighted, Constance was seen
+disconsolately peeping out at the waiting-room door to see whether the private
+conference were over. They joined her again, and Mr. Flinders discoursed about
+the envy and jealousy of critics, and success being only attained by getting
+into a certain clique, till she began to look rather frightened; but reassured
+by the voluble list of names and papers to which he assured her of
+recommendations. Then he began to be complimentary, and she, to put on the silly
+tituppy kind of face and tone wherewith she had talked to the curates at the
+festival. Dolores began to find this very dull, and to feel neglected, perhaps
+also cross, and doubts came across her whether she might not get into a dreadful
+scrape about the money, which she certainly had no right to dispose of. She at
+last broke in with, 'Uncle Alfred, are you quite sure Professor Muhlwasser is
+dead?'</p>
+<p>'Bless your heart, child, he's as dead as Harry the Eighth,' said Mr.
+Flinders in haste;' died at Berlin, of fatty degeneration of the heart! Well, as
+I was saying, Miss Constance--'</p>
+<p>'But, uncle, I was thinking--'</p>
+<p>'Hush!' as a couple of ladies and a whole train of nurses and children
+invaded the waiting-room, 'it won't do to talk of such little matters in public
+places, you know. Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss Constance. Will you
+allow me to be your cavalier?'</p>
+<p>People were beginning to arrive in expectation of the coming train, and talk
+was not possible in the throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not make it so. At
+last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to find places for the ladies, when
+there was a moment's glimpse of a handsome moustached face at a smoking-carriage
+window. Dolores started, and had almost exclaimed, 'Uncle Reginald;' but before
+the words were out of her mouth, Mr. Flinders had drawn her on swiftly, among
+all the numbers of people getting out and getting in, hurled her into a distant
+carriage, handed Constance in after her, and muttering something about
+forgetting an appointment, he vanished, without any of the arrangements about
+foot-warmers that he had promised.</p>
+<p>'Uncle Reginald!' again exclaimed Dolores, 'I am sure it was he!'</p>
+<p>'Oh dear! What an escape!' answered Constance, breathless with surprise, and
+settling herself with disgust and difficulty next to a fat old farmer, as three
+or four more people entered and jammed them close together.</p>
+<p>'Who is he?' she presently whispered.</p>
+<p>'Colonel Mohun. His regiment is at Galway. I know he talked of getting over
+this winter if he possibly could; but Aunt Lily went away before the post was
+come in.'</p>
+<p>'We shall have to take great care when we get out.'</p>
+<p>Here the train started, and conversation in undertones became impossible,
+more especially as two of the farmers in the carriage were coming back from the
+Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the prize oxen with all their might.
+It was very stuffy and close. Constance looked ineffably fastidious and
+uncomfortable, and Dolores gazed at the clouded window, and dull little lamp
+overhead, put in to enliven the deepening twilight. This avoiding of Uncle
+Reginald brought more before her mind a sense of wrong-doing than anything that
+had gone before. She was fond of this uncle, who always made her father's house
+his headquarters when in London, and used to play with her when she was a small
+child, and always to take her to the Zoological Gardens, till she declared she
+was too old to care for such a childish show, and then he and her father both
+laughed at her so much that she would never have forgiven anybody else; and she
+found he enjoyed it for his own sake far more than she did. However, he always
+did take her out for walks and sights that were sure to be amusing with him.
+Father, too, was quite bright and alive when he was in the house, and thus
+Dolores had nothing but pleasant associations connected with this uncle, and had
+heard of the chances of his coming like a ray of light, though without much
+hope, since the state of Ireland had prevented him from being able even to run
+over to take leave of her father. And now he was come, she must hide from him
+like a guilty thing! There was no spirit of opposition against him in her mind,
+and thus she could feel that she was doing something sad and strange. Moreover,
+she began to feel that her promise about the cheque had been a rash one, and the
+echo of her father's voice came back on her, saying, 'Surely, Mary, you know
+better than to believe a word out of Flinders's mouth.'</p>
+<p>But then she thought of her mother's rare tears glistening in her eyes, and
+the answer, 'Poor Alfred! I cannot give him up. Everything has been against
+him.'</p>
+<p>It was quite dark before Silverton was reached, at half-past five, with three
+quarters of an hour to spare before the other travellers were expected. Most of
+their fellow passengers had got out at previous stations, so that Constance was
+able to open the door and jump out so perilously before the train had quite
+stopped, that a porter caught her with a sharp word of reproof. She grasped
+Dolores's hand and scudded across the platform, giving the return tickets almost
+before the collector was ready. A cautious guard even exclaimed, 'What's those
+two young women up to?' but was answered at once, 'They're all right! That's
+nought but one of the old parson's daughters, as have been out with a return to
+Darminster.'</p>
+<p>'A sweetheartin'?' demanded one of the bystanders, and there was a laugh.</p>
+<p>Constance heard the tones and vulgar laugh, though not the words, and she was
+in such a panic as she hurried down the steps that she did not stop to look out
+for a cab. The place was small, and they were not very plentiful at any time,
+and she was mortally afraid, though she hardly knew why, of being over-taken and
+questioned by Colonel Mohun, who might know his niece, though he would not know
+her; but Dolores was tired, and had a headache, and did not at all like the walk
+in the dirt, and fog, and dark, after turning from the gas lit station.</p>
+<p>'We were to have a cab, Constance.'</p>
+<p>'We can't,' was the answer, still hurrying on. 'He would come out upon us.'</p>
+<p>'He is much more likely to overtake us this way!' said Dolores, thinking of
+her uncle's long strides.</p>
+<p>'Well, we can't turn back now!' said Constance, getting almost into a run,
+which lasted till they were past the paddock gate. Dolores, panting to keep up
+with her, had half a mind to turn up there and go straight home; but there might
+be any number of oxen in the way, and almost worse, she might meet Jasper and
+Wilfred, or if Uncle Reginald overtook her, what would he think?</p>
+<p>The pair slackened their pace a little when they had satisfied themselves
+that the break in the dark hedge beside them was the gate. They heard wheels,
+and presently saw the lamps of a cab, bearing down, halt at the gate they had
+left behind, and turn in.</p>
+<p>'We should have been off first,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'If we could have got a cab in time?'</p>
+<p>'One can always get cabs.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! no, not at all for certain.'</p>
+<p>'This is a nasty, stupid, out-of-the-way place,' said Dolores, wanting to say
+something cross.</p>
+<p>'It isn't a vulgar place, full of traffic,' returned Constance, equally
+cross.</p>
+<p>'Well, I never meant to walk home in this way! I'm sure my feet are wet. I
+wish I had waited and gone with Uncle Regie.'</p>
+<p>'Now, Dolly, what do you mean? You would not have it all betrayed?'</p>
+<p>'I've a great mind to tell Uncle Regie all about it.'</p>
+<p>'Now, Dolly! When you said so much about the Mohun pride and scorn of your
+poor, dear uncle.'</p>
+<p>'Uncle Regie is not proud. And he would know what to do.'</p>
+<p>'But,' cried Constance, in a fright, 'you would never tell him! You promised
+that it should be a secret, and I should be in such a dreadful scrape with Lady
+Merrifield and Mary.'</p>
+<p>'Well! it was your doing, and you had all the pleasure of it, flourishing
+about the platform with him.'</p>
+<p>'How can you be so disagreeable, Dolores, when you know it was all on
+business. Though I do think he is the most interesting man I ever did see.'</p>
+<p>'Just because he flattered you.'</p>
+<p>However, there is no need to tell how many cross and quarrelsome things the
+two tired friends said to each other. They were sitting on opposite sides of the
+fire, one very gloomy, and the other very pettish, when the waggonette stopped
+at the gate, to put out Miss Hacket and take up Dolores. Hands pulled her up the
+step, and a hubbub of merry voices received her in the dark.</p>
+<p>'Good girl, not to keep us waiting.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Dolly, Dolly, Macrae says Uncle Regie's come!'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Dolly, it has been such fun!'</p>
+<p>'Take care of my parcel!'</p>
+<p>'Ah, ha! you don't know what is in there.'</p>
+<p>'Here's something under my feet!'</p>
+<p>'Oh! take care! 'Tisn't my--'</p>
+<p>'Hush, hush, Val--'</p>
+<p>And so it went on till on the steps was seen in full light among the boys,
+Uncle Reginald, ready to lift every one out with a kiss.'</p>
+<p>'Ha! Dolly, is that you?' he said, as they came into the hall. 'I saw such a
+likeness of you at one station that I was as near as possible jumping out to
+speak to her. She had on just that fur tippet!'</p>
+<p>'That comes of living in Ireland, Regie,' said Aunt Lily. 'Once in a shop at
+Belfast, a lady darted up to me with &quot;And it's I that am glad to see you,
+me dear. And how's me sweet little god-daughter? Oh! and it isn't yourself. And
+aren't you Mrs. Phelim O'Shaugnessy?'&quot; And under cover of this, Dolores
+retreated to her own room. She took off her things, and then looked at the
+cheque.</p>
+<p>Professor Muhlwasser was a clever German, always at work on science,
+counting, in the most minute and accurate manner, such details as the rays in a
+sea anemone's tentacles, or the eggs in a shrimp's roe. He was engaged on a huge
+book, in numbers, of which Mr. Maurice Mohun had promised to take two
+copies--but whereas extravagances upon peculiar hobbies were apt not to be
+tolerated in the family, and it was really uncertain whether the work would ever
+be completed, Mr. Mohun had preferred leaving a cheque for the payment in his
+little daughter's hand, rather than entrust it to one of the brothers, who would
+have howled and growled at such a waste of good money on such a subject. Thus he
+had told Dolores to back the draft, get it changed, and send the amount by a
+postal order to Germany, if the books and account should come, which he thought
+very doubtful.</p>
+<p>And now the professor was dead, Dolores looked at the cheque, and supposed
+she could do as she pleased with it. Mother helped Uncle Alfred. Yes, but mother
+earned all she sent him herself! Perhaps he would not ask again. How much more
+he had talked to Constance than to herself. Dolly wished she had not seen him to
+get into this difficulty. She was tired, cold, and damp. Oh! if she had never
+gone, and not been half caught by Uncle Regie!</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XII.<br>
+A HUNT</h3>
+
+<p>Dolores was glad to recollect, when she awoke, that Uncle Reginald was in the
+house. It was as if she had a friend of her own there who might enter into all
+the ill-usage she suffered, and whom she could even consult about Uncle Alfred,
+so far as she could do so without disclosing all the underhand correspondence.
+She called doing so betraying Constance, but, in truth, she shrank more from
+shocking him with what he might think very wrong--since, after all, he belonged
+to that hard-hearted generation of grown-up people who had no feeling nor
+understanding of one's troubles.</p>
+<p>As she went downstairs she was aware of an increasing hubbub, and frequently
+looking over the balusters, perceived the top of Primrose's wavy head above the
+close-cropped one of Uncle Regie, as, with her mounted on his shoulder, he
+careered round the hall, with a pack of others vociferating behind him;</p>
+<p>There was a lull, for Lady Merrifield came out of her room just as Dolores
+had paused; Primrose was put down, the morning salutations took place, and
+Dolores had her full share of them. She was even allowed to sit next her uncle
+at breakfast; but her rasher of bacon had not been half eaten, before she had
+perceived that, as to possessing him as she used to do at home, he was just as
+much everybody else's Uncle Regie as hers, for during the time of their being
+stationed at Belfast, he had been so often with them, that he was quite
+established as the prince of playfellows.</p>
+<p>'Uncle Regie, will you have a crack at the rabbits tomorrow? Brown said we
+might have a day, and we have been keeping it for you.'</p>
+<p>'Uncle Regie, the hounds meet at the Bugle this morning, won't you come and
+see them throw off?'</p>
+<p>'Oh, let me come too!' 'And me!' 'And me!'</p>
+<p>'My dear children,' exclaimed their mother, 'I can't have the whole tribe of
+little ones and girls going galloping after your uncle. You will only hinder
+him.'</p>
+<p>'No, no, Lily! the more Merrifields, the merrier the field. I'll drill them
+well. How far off is this Bugle?'</p>
+<p>'Not two miles over Furzy Common.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! not so far, Hal!'</p>
+<p>'That's nothing. Who is coming?'</p>
+<p>A general outbreak of 'Me's' ensued, but mamma laid an embargo on Primrose,
+who must stay at home and 'help her,' while Gillian looked wistful and doubtful,
+knowing that more efficient help than the little one's might be desirable.</p>
+<p>'You had better go, my dear,' said her mother, 'if you are not tired. I don't
+like to send Mysie and Val without some one to turn back with them if your uncle
+and the boys want to go further.'</p>
+<p>But whereas it was not nearly time to start, Uncle Reginald was dragged down
+to inspect all the live stock in the stable-yard, at their feeding-time, and
+went off with Val and Primrose clinging to his hands, and the general rabble
+surrounding him.</p>
+<p>Nothing could have been more alien to Dolores's taste than going out to a
+meet on foot through mud and mire--she who hated the being driven out to take a
+constitutional walk on the gravel road or the paved path! But she had some hope
+that while all the others ran off madly, as was their wont, she might secure a
+little rational conversation with Uncle Reginald. So she came down in hat and
+ulster, and was rewarded with 'That's right, Doll; I'm glad to see they have
+taught you to take country walks.'</p>
+<p>'It is all compliment to you, Uncle Regie,' said Gillian. 'She hates them
+generally.'</p>
+<p>'Are we all ready? Where are Japs and Will?'</p>
+<p>'Gone to shut up the dogs; and Hal is not coming.'</p>
+<p>'Beneath his dignity, eh?'</p>
+<p>'I think he has some reading to do,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'Now mind, Reginald,' said Aunt Lily, coming on the scene, 'you are not to
+let those imps drag you farther than you like. It is a very different thing,
+remember, children, from going out with the hounds like a gentleman.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, mamma,' returned Fergus. 'If you would only let me have the pony!'</p>
+<p>'And send home the girls as soon as you find them in the way,' she added.</p>
+<p>'All right,' answered he, and off plunged the party; but Dolores soon found
+that she was not to be allowed much of Uncle Reginald's exclusive society. He
+did begin talking to her about her father's voyage, last letters, and intended
+departure from Auckland, but Valetta kept fast hold of his other hand, and the
+others were all round, every moment pointing out something--to them
+noticeable--and telling the story of some exploit, delighted when their uncle
+capped it with some boyish tales of Beechcroft, or with some droll, Irish story.</p>
+<p>With such talk, the strong, healthy young folk little heeded the surface mud
+or the lanes. Even Dolores when she heard her father's name in the
+reminiscences,' was interested for a time, and was always hoping that the others
+would fly off and leave her to her uncle; but she was much less used to country
+mud and stout boots than the others, and she had been very much tired by her
+expedition on the previous day, so that she had begun to find the way very long
+before they came out on an open green, with a few cottages standing a good way
+back in their gardens, and as their centre, one of the great old coaching inns
+of past days, now chiefly farmhouse, though a sign, bearing a golden bugle-horn
+upon a blue ground, stood aloft in front of it, over the heads of the speckled
+mass of tan, black, and white, pervaded with curved tails, over which the
+scarlet-coated whips kept guard, while shining horses, bearing red coats and
+black coats, boys, and a few ladies, were moving about, and carriages drew up
+from time to time.</p>
+<p>There was a long standing about, and Colonel Mohun, being a stranger there
+himself, kept his flock on the outskirts, only Jasper plunging in, at sight of a
+mounted schoolfellow, while Gillian and Mysie told the names of the few they
+recognized. At last there was a move, and Jasper came back to point out the wood
+they were going to draw, close at hand. Should they not all go on and see it?</p>
+<p>'Oh! let us! do come, Uncle Regie,' cried Mysie and Val.</p>
+<p>'Look here, Gill,' said the uncle, 'this child doesn't look fit to go any
+farther.'</p>
+<p>'I'm very tired, and so cold,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Gillian, 'we ought to go home now.'</p>
+<p>Not me! not me;' cried the other two girls; 'Uncle Regie will take care of
+us.'</p>
+<p>'I think you must come,' said Gillian, 'mamma said you had better come home
+when I do.'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Wilfred, 'we don't want a pack of girls to go and get tired.'</p>
+<p>'We shall go into all sorts of places not fit for you,' said Jasper; 'you
+wouldn't come back with a whole petticoat among you.'</p>
+<p>'And Val would be left stodged in a ditch for a month of Sundays,' added
+Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'I am afraid we had better part company, Gill,' said the colonel. 'I would
+take you on a little further, but this poor little Londoner won't have a leg to
+stand upon by the time she gets home.'</p>
+<p>'More shame for her to come out to spoil our fun,' muttered Valetta, too low
+for her uncle to hear.</p>
+<p>'Mamma will think we have gone quite far enough, thank you, uncle,' said the
+sage Gillian, 'and I think Fergus had better come too.'</p>
+<p>'That he had,' said Jasper. 'Fancy him over Peat Hill.'</p>
+<p>'He'll be left behind to be picked up as we come back,' said Wilfred.</p>
+<p>'No, no, no! I can keep up better than you can, Wil! Take me, Uncle Regie.'
+The little boy was so near a howl that good-natured Colonel Mohun's heart was
+touched, and he consented to let him come on, though Jasper argued, 'You'll have
+to carry him, uncle.'</p>
+<p>'No, I'll make you, master! Tell your mother not to wait luncheon for us,
+Gillian; we'll pick up something somewhere.'</p>
+<p>'Hurrah!' cried Wilfred and Fergus, to whom this was an immense additional
+pleasure.</p>
+<p>The girls turned away into the lane, Valetta indulging in an outrageous
+grumble. 'Why should Dolores have come out to spoil everything?'</p>
+<p>Dolores did not speak.</p>
+<p>'Just our one chance,' sighed Mysie, 'and perhaps we should have seen the
+fox.'</p>
+<p>'We may do that yet,' said Gillian; 'he may come this way.'</p>
+<p>'I don't care if he does,' said Valetta. 'I wanted to see them draw the
+copse. I believe Dolores did it on purpose to spoil our pleasure.'</p>
+<p>'Don't be so cross, Val,' said Mysie. 'She can't help being tired.'</p>
+<p>'Why did she come, then, when nobody wanted her?'</p>
+<p>'For shame, Val,' said Gillian, 'you know mamma would be very angry to hear
+you say anything so unkind.'</p>
+<p>'It's quite true, though,' muttered Valetta.</p>
+<p>'Never mind, Dolly, dear,' said Mysie, shocked. 'Val doesn't really mean it,
+you know.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, she does,' said Dolores, shaking her comforter off; 'you all do! I wish
+I had never come here.'</p>
+<p>Mysie tried in her own persevering way to argue again that Val was only put
+out, and disappointed at having to turn back, to which Valetta, in spite of
+Gillian's endeavour to silence her, added, 'So stupid of her to come out! What
+did she do it for?'</p>
+<p>Dolores, who hardly ever cried, was tired into crying now. 'You grudge me
+everything; you wouldn't let me speak one single word to Uncle Regie, and kept
+bothering about! I'll never do anything with you again! I won't.'</p>
+<p>'Did you want to speak to Uncle Regie?' asked Mysie.</p>
+<p>'To be sure I did! He is my uncle, that I knew ever so long before you did,
+and you never let him speak to me.'</p>
+<p>'Mrs. Halfpenny always put us on the high chair, with our faces to the wall
+when we were jealous,' remarked Valetta.</p>
+<p>'But did you want to say anything to him in particular?' said Mysie,
+revolving means of contriving a private interview.</p>
+<p>'That's no business of yours! I wish you would let me alone!' broke out
+Dolores, in a fretful fright lest any one should guess that she had anything on
+her mind.</p>
+<p>'To make up stories of us, of course,' growled Valetta, but Gillian here
+interposed, declaring with authority that if she heard another word before they
+reached the paddock gate, she should certainly tell mother how disgracefully
+they had been behaving. When Gillian said such things she kept her word.
+Besides, by way of precaution, she marched down the muddy middle of the road,
+with Dolores limping along the footpath on one side, and Val as far off as
+possible on the border of the ditch, on the other; the more inoffensive Mysie
+keeping by her side. They were all weary, and Dolores was very footsore also, by
+the time they reached home, at the very moment that the two Misses Hacket
+appeared coming up the drive. Lady Merrifield, having the day before invited the
+elder, as the purchases needed to be looked over, and preparations set in hand,
+and she did not then know that her brother was coming.</p>
+<p>Dolores scarcely knew whether she was glad to see Constance. She had many
+doubts and qualms about that cheque. And if she had spent any quiet time alone
+with her uncle, she might have laid enough of her trouble before him to get some
+advice or help; but to ask for an interview, especially when 'everybody' thought
+it was to make complaints, was too uncomfortable and alarming; and she was
+inclined to escape from thought of the whole subject altogether by taking action
+quickly.</p>
+<p>Gillian gave her uncle's message about not waiting; the dirty boots were
+taken off in the hall, and Constance followed her friend up to her room to take
+off her things.</p>
+<p>Dolores sat on the side of her bed, too much tired at first to be willing to
+move, Constance's pity elicited tears, and that they had all been so very unkind
+to her; they were angry at her getting tired, and they were jealous of her even
+speaking to Uncle Regie. Again this alarmed Constance, 'You weren't going to
+tell him about Mr. Flinders--you know you promised.'</p>
+<p>'He knows about him already, and he would tell me what to do.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! but that would never do, darling Dolly. You told me all the family were
+hard and unjust, and he would tell Lady Merrifield, and we should never be
+allowed to see each other again. And only think of my poor little secret! I
+didn't think you would have turned from your poor relation in misfortune for the
+sake of this grand Colonel.'</p>
+<p>The end of it was, that just as the gong was sounding, Dolores handed over to
+Constance an envelope directed to Mr. Flinders, and containing Mr. Maurice
+Mohun's cheque. It was off her mind now, she thought, as she shuffled down to
+dinner, lookup so pale and uneasy that her aunt made her have a glass of wine
+and some gravy soup to begin with, and, when dinner was over, turned all the
+parcels off the school-room sofa, and made her lie upon it during the grand
+unpacking, which was almost as charming as the purchasing, perhaps more so,
+since there was no comparison with costlier articles.</p>
+<p>There was not very much time. This was Friday and Christmas Day was on
+Monday, so there were only two more clear week-days before the birthday and Miss
+Hacket would be church-decorating on the morrow; but Lady Merrifield would not
+send her daughters to help, as there were plenty of hands without them, and they
+were too young to trust in a mixed set, who were not always sure to be reverent.</p>
+<p>Dinner had rested and refreshed them; they rejoiced in the absence of the
+man-kind, and Primrose was sent out for her walk while the numerous boxes and
+packages were opened, and displayed sconces and tapers, gilt balls and glass
+birds, oranges and bon-bons, disguised in every imaginable fashion. There was a
+double set of the tapers, and two relays of devices in sweets, for the benefit
+of the party of the second night, a list of whom Miss Hacket had brought, that
+heads might be counted, and any deficiency supplied in time through Aunt Jane.
+For Lady Merrifield had commissioned Gillian to lay in--unknown to the good
+lady--a stock of such treasures as are valuable indeed to the little maid: shell
+pin-cushions, Cinderella slippers holding thimbles, cases of hair-pins, queer
+housewives, and the like things, wonderfully pretty for the price, and which
+filled the kind heart of Miss Hacket with rapture and gratitude at such
+brilliant additions to her own home-made contrivances in the way of cuffs,
+comforters, and illuminated workbags, all beautifully neat; I though it was hard
+to persuade her of what Lady Merrifield averred, that such things ought to be
+far more precious than brilliant, shop-bought, ready-made ware, 'with no
+love-seed in it.'</p>
+<p>'It is very hard,' she said; 'how fancy shops try to spoil all one used to be
+able to do for one's friends. The purses, and the penwipers, and the
+needle-cases that were one's choicest presents in my youth, are all turned out
+now smart and tight and fashioned, but without a scrap of the honest old labour
+and love that went into them.'</p>
+<p>'But papa and mamma do care still,' cried Gillian; 'papa never will have any
+purse but the long ones mamma nets for him.'</p>
+<p>'And mamma always will have the old brown and blue carriage-bag that Aunt
+Phyllis worked,' chimed in Mysie, 'though Claude did say he would throw it into
+the sea when we crossed from Dublin for it looked like an old housekeeper's.'</p>
+<p>'Claude was in a superfine condition then--in awe of an old Sandhurst
+comrade. He would be gild enough to see the old brown bag now, poor fellow,'
+said Lady Merrifield, tenderly.</p>
+<p>So it went on, with merry chat and a good deal of real preparation, till the
+early darkness came on, and a great noise in the haul announced the return of
+'the boys,' among whom Lady Merrifield still classed her colonel brother. They
+were muddy up to the eyes, but they had seen a great deal more than was easy to
+understand in their incoherent accounts. Wilfed had rolled into a wet ditch, and
+been picked out by his uncle and hung up to dry at a little village inn,
+where--this seemed to have been the supreme glory--they had made a meal on
+pigs'-liver and bread-and-cheese before plodding home again--losing their way
+under Wilfred's confident pilotage--finding themselves five miles from
+home--getting a cast in a cart for the two little boys just as Fergus was almost
+ready to cry--Colonel Mohun and Jasper walking alongside of the carter for two
+miles, and conversing in a friendly manner, though the man said he knew the
+soldier by his step, and thought it was a pool-trade. Finally, he directed them
+by a short cut, which proved to be through a lane of clay and pools of such an
+adhesive nature that Fergus had to be pulled out step by step by main force by
+his uncle, who deposited him on some stones at the other end, and then came back
+to assist the struggles of Wilfred, who was slowly proceeding with Jasper's
+help.</p>
+<p>'And that's the way we make you spend your Christmas holiday, Regie,' said
+Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'Never mind. Lily; mud was a congenial element to us both in old times, you
+know, so no wonder your brood take to it like ducks or hippopotamuses. I say, we
+ought to have come in by the rear. Couldn't that imp of a buttons of yours come
+and scrape us before we go upstairs?'</p>
+<p>'You are certainly grown older, Regie. You never would have thought of that
+once.'</p>
+<p>'No more would you, Lily--so do yourself justice.'</p>
+<p>However, when five o'clock tea was spread in the drawing-room, and the Hacket
+ladies came in, Constance beheld such a splendid vision of a fine, fair, though
+sunburnt face, long, light moustaches, and tall figure, that she instantly
+assumed her most affected graces, and did not wonder the less that the Mohuns
+were all so very high.</p>
+<p>Dolores's strong desire for a private interview with her uncle died away when
+Constance carried off the cheque. She knew he would tell her she had no right to
+give it, and she did not want to be told so, nor to have any special inquiries
+made. She was not sorry that an invitation from a neighbour kept him and Hal out
+shooting all Saturday, and, on the other hand, she so far shrank from
+Constance's talk about Mr. Flinders as not to be vexed that it was too wet on
+Sunday afternoon for any going down to Casement Cottages.</p>
+<p>It was on that wet afternoon, however, that Uncle Reginald, crossing the hall
+for once without his tail of followers, saw her slowly dragging downstairs with
+a book in her hand.</p>
+<p>'Well, Miss Doll,' he said; 'you don't look very jolly! What's the matter?'</p>
+<p>'Nothing, Uncle Regie.'</p>
+<p>'I don't believe in nothing. Here,' sitting down on the stairs, with an arm
+round her, 'tell me all about it, Dolly, we are old chums, you know. Have you
+got into a row?'</p>
+<p>'Oh no!'</p>
+<p>'Is there anything I can put straight?'</p>
+<p>'No, thank you, Uncle Regie.'</p>
+<p>'There's something amiss!' said the good-natured, puzzled uncle. 'What is it?
+I should have thought you would have got on with these young folks like--like a
+house on fire.'</p>
+<p>'That's all you know about it,' thought Dolly. What she said was, 'One never
+does.'</p>
+<p>'I don't understand that generalization,' answered her uncle; then, as she
+did not answer, he added, 'I am sure your Aunt Lily is very anxious to make you
+happy. Have you anything to complain of?'</p>
+<p>'No,' said Dolores, 'I don't complain of anything.'</p>
+<p>She was thinking of Valetta's notion that she wanted to 'make up stories of
+them,' and therefore she said it in a manner which conveyed that she had a good
+deal to complain of, if she would, though really she would have been a good deal
+puzzled to produce a grievance that a man like Uncle Reginald would understand,
+though she had plenty for sympathy like Constance's.</p>
+<p>However, it was not to be expected that a private conference should last long
+in that house, and Mysie appeared at that moment, looking for her cousin, to say
+that 'Mamma was ready for her.' Dolores went off with more alacrity than usual,
+and Uncle Reginald beckoned up his other niece, and observed: 'I say, Mysie,
+what's the matter with Dolly?'</p>
+<p>'She is always like that, uncle,' answered Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Don't you hit it off with her, then?'</p>
+<p>'I can't, uncle,' said Mysie, looking up, with a sudden wink now and then to
+stop her tears. 'I thought we should have been such friends; but she won't let
+me. I didn't mean to be stupid and disagreeable, like the girls in 'Ashenden
+Schoolroom,' but she doesn't care for anybody but Miss Constance and Maude
+Sefton.'</p>
+<p>'I hope you are all very kind to her,' said Uncle Reginald, rather wistfully.</p>
+<p>'We try,' said Mysie, who was not going to betray Wilfred and Valetta, and
+could honestly say so of herself and Gillian.</p>
+<p>And there again came an interruption, in the shape of Gillian. 'Mysie, mamma
+says we may finish up our sacred illuminated cards, for it will be Sunday work.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, jolly!' cried Mysie, jumping up. 'And will you give me one rub of your
+real good carmine Gilly-flower, dear.'</p>
+<p>'And of my ultramarine, too,' responded Gillian, wherewith the two sisters
+disappeared, radiant with goodwill and gratitude; while poor Uncle Reginald, who
+had intended to devote this wet Sunday afternoon to writing to his brother that
+Dolores was perfectly happy and thriving in Lily's care, and like a sister to
+his other favourite, Mysie, remained disappointed and perplexed, wondering
+whether the poor little maiden were homesick, or whether no children could be
+depended on for kindness when out of sight, and deciding that he should defer
+his letter till he had seen a little more, and talked to his sister Jane, who
+could see through a milestone any day.</p>
+<p>It was understood that mamma preferred home-made cards to bought ones, so
+there was always a great manufacture of them in the weeks previous to Christmas,
+the comparative failures being exchanged among the younger members.</p>
+<p>The presents were always reserved for Valetta's birthday and the tree, and
+this rendered the circulation of the cards doubly interesting. In the immediate
+family alone, there were thirteen times thirteen, besides those coming from, and
+going to outsiders, so that it was as well that a good many should be of
+domestic manufacture, either with pencil and brush, or of tiny leaves carefully
+dried and gummed. And mamma had kept an album, with names and dates, into which
+all these home efforts were inserted, and nothing else! This year's series began
+with a little chestnut curl of Primrose's hair, fastened down on a card by
+Gillian, and rose to a beautiful drawing of a blue Indian Lotus lily, with a
+gorgeous dragon-fly on it, sent by Alethea. The Indian party had sent a card for
+every one--the girls, beautiful drawings of birds, insects, and scenery; the
+brother, a bundle of rice-paper figured with costumes, and papa, some clever
+pen-and-ink outlines of odd figures, which his daughters beguiled from him in
+his leisure moments!</p>
+<p>As to the home circle, it is enough to say that their performances were
+highly satisfactory to the makers, and were rewarded by mamma's kisses, and the
+text or verse she had secretly illuminated for each. She had no time to do more,
+and the series were infinitely prized and laid up as treasures. There were
+plenty of ornamental cards from without to be admired: the Brighton and
+Beechcroft aunts; the Stokesley cousins, and whole multitudes of friends pouring
+them in as usual; so that the entire review seemed to occupy all those free
+moments of the Christmas Day, when the young folks were neither at church, nor
+at meals, nor singing carols themselves, nor hearing the choir sing in the hall,
+nor looking over photograph books and hearing old family stories. This last
+occupation was received in the family as the regular evening pleasure, ending in
+all singing, 'When shepherds watch their flocks by night.'</p>
+<p>Dolores had a card from her aunt and each of her cousins, besides one of the
+parcel Uncle Reginald had brought. She did not think enough of the very bad
+drawing and smeared painting of the ambitious attempts she received, to feel at
+all disconcerted at having no reciprocity to offer. The only cards she had sent
+were to Constance Hacket, to Fraulein, and to Maude Sefton--the last with a sore
+sense of the long interval since she had heard.</p>
+<p>However, there was a card from Maude, but it was a very poor one, looking
+very much like a last year's possession, and the letter was not much better,
+being chiefly an apology for having been too busy to write. Maude was going to
+lectures with Nona Styles--Nona was such a darling girl--and breaking off
+because she was wanted to rehearse Cinderella with this same darling Nona.</p>
+<p>It made Dolores's heart go down farther, though there was a beautiful and
+unexpected card from Mrs. Sefton, one from her former servant, Caroline, also
+from Fraulein, and three or four from old friends of her mother, who had
+remembered the solitary girl. In truth, she had more beautiful ones than anybody
+else, but she kept these in their envelopes, and showed herself so much averse
+to free fingering and admiration of them that Lady Merrifield had to call off
+Valetta, remind her that her cousin had a right to her own cards, and hear in
+return that Dolores was so cross.</p>
+<p>'Dolly,' said Uncle Reginald, in a low voice, since he was permitted to look
+over the cards with her, 'I think I have found out part of your troubles.'</p>
+<p>She looked at him in alarm.</p>
+<p>He put his finger on a card bearing the words, 'Goodwill to men.'</p>
+<p>'Umph,' said she. 'I don't want everything of mine messed and spoilt.'</p>
+<p>And as his eye fell on Fergus's cards, he felt there was reason in what she
+said.</p>
+<p>Aunt Lily had taken her for a quarter of an hour that morning, trying to
+infuse the real thought underlying the joy that makes it Christmas, not only
+yule-tide. But it all fell flat--it was all lessons to her--imposed on her on a
+day that she had not been used to see made what she called 'goody.' Last year
+her father had shut himself up after church, and she had spent the evening in
+noisy mirth with the Seftons.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XIII.<br>
+AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX</h3>
+
+<p>Aunt Adeline was afraid of winter journeys as well as of the tumultuous
+festivities of Silverton; so at twelve o'clock. Colonel Mohun drove the
+pony-carriage to meet the little trim Brownie who stepped out of the station,
+the porter carrying behind her a huge thing, long, and swathed in brown paper.
+'It is quite light; it won't hurt,' she said, 'It must go with us. Put your legs
+across it, Regie. That's right.'</p>
+<p>'Then what becomes of yours?'</p>
+<p>'Mine can go anywhere,' said Miss Mohun, crumpling herself up in some
+mysterious manner under the fur rug, while they drove off, her luggage sticking
+far off on either side of the splashboard.</p>
+<p>'What, in the name of wonder, are you smuggling in there?'</p>
+<p>'If you must know, it is the body of a mummy over whose dissection you will
+have to assist.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! Rotherwood is coming.'</p>
+<p>'Rotherwood!'</p>
+<p>'And his little girl. Just like him. Lily gets a note this morning from
+London, telling her to telegraph if she can't have them by the 5.20 train. I've
+just been ordering a fly. It seems that Lady Rotherwood, going to meet Ivinghoe
+at the station, coming from school, found he had measles coming out! So they
+packed off his sister to Beechcroft without having seen him, and thence
+Rotherwood took her to London.'</p>
+<p>'And is having a fine frolic with her, no doubt; but he might as well have
+given Lily more notice, considering that a marquess or two makes more difference
+to her household than it does to his.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! she is glad enough, only in some trepidation as to how Mrs. Halfpenny
+may receive the unspecified maid that the child may bring.'</p>
+<p>'How jolly we shall be! I wish Ada had come.'</p>
+<p>'I tried to drag her out, but it gets harder and harder to shake her up. You
+must come back with me and see her.'</p>
+<p>'I say, Jane, have you seen Maurice's child lately?'</p>
+<p>'Not very. She wouldn't come with the others last week.'</p>
+<p>'What do you think about her? I thought leaving her with Lily would have been
+the making of her. Indeed, I told Maurice there could not be a better brought up
+set anywhere than the Merrifields, and that Lily would mother her like one of
+her own; and now I find her moping about, looking regularly down in the mouth. I
+got hold of her one day and tried to find out what was the matter, but she only
+said she would not complain. Can they bully her?'</p>
+<p>'I'll tell you what, Maurice, Lily is a great deal too kind to her. She has a
+kind of temper that won't let them make friends with her.'</p>
+<p>'Come now! She was a nice jolly little girl at home. She and I have had no
+end of larks together, and it is hard to blame her for fretting after her home,
+poor child--Aye! I know you never liked her, or she might have done better with
+you and Ada than turned in among a lot of imps.'</p>
+<p>'I'm thankful it was otherwise!'</p>
+<p>'Now do, Jane, set your mind to it. Don't be prejudiced, but make those sharp
+eyes of some use. I really feel bound to give Maurice an account of Dolly, and
+tell him what is best for her.'</p>
+<p>'I believe,' said Jane, 'that there is some counter-influence at work, and I
+am trying to find it out; but, after all, I believe patience is the only thing,
+and that Lily will conquer her if nobody meddles.'</p>
+<p>''Tis not Lily I am afraid of, but her children.'</p>
+<p>'Nonsense, Regie; one would think you had never been turned loose into school
+to be licked into shape.'</p>
+<p>'She is a girl, not a cub like me.'</p>
+<p>'A worse cub, for she has not your temper, sir, and, moreover, you had had
+the wholesome discipline of a large family. Besides, nobody teases but Wilfred.
+Gillian and Mysie behave like angels to the tiresome puss.'</p>
+<p>'Well, I'm bound to believe you, Jenny, but I don't like the looks of it.'</p>
+<p>Aunt Jane's mysterious parcel was greeted rapturously, and conveyed into the
+dining-room, which had a semi-circular end, filled with glass, and capable of
+being shut off with heavy curtains when the season made snugness desirable. This
+bay had been set apart from the first for her operations, the tree, whose second
+season it was, having been taken up and already erected in the centre of the
+room, not much the worse for last year's excursion, for, if rather stunted, that
+was all the better. No one was excluded from the decoration thereof, since that
+was the best part of the sport to those too old for the mystery--and yet young
+enough to fasten sconces where their candles would infallibly set fire to the
+twigs above them. The only defaulters were Jasper, who had preferred going down
+to the meadows with his gun; and Dolores, who had retired to the drawing-room
+with a book, on having a paper star removed from immediate risk of
+conflagration. 'They were determined not to let her help,' she said.</p>
+<p>So she only emerged when the workers halted for a merry, hurried meal in the
+schoolroom, where Jasper appeared, very late, very cross at having had to make
+himself fit to be seen, and, likewise, at having brought home no spoil, the
+snipes having been so malicious as to escape him. Having sallied forth before
+the post came in, it was only now that it broke on him that visitors were
+expected, and he did not like it at all.</p>
+<p>'I thought we had got rid of a11 the enemy!' he growled, at his end of the
+table.</p>
+<p>'That's what he calls Constance.' thought Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Polite,' observed Gillian.</p>
+<p>'This will be worse still, being lord and ladies grumbled on Jasper, 'I hate
+swells.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! but these aren't like horrid, common, fine lords and ladies,' cried
+Mysie; 'why, you know all mamma's old stories about the fun they had with cousin
+Rotherwood.</p>
+<p>'What's the good of that! That's a hundred years ago. He'll just make mamma
+and Uncle Regie of no good at all! And then there's a girl too--' (in a tone of
+inconceivable disgust) 'I don't want strange girls--an awful stuck-up swell of a
+Londoner, not able to do anything! I wish I had gone to spend Christmas with
+Bruce! I would if I had known it was to be like this.'</p>
+<p>The speech brought Mysie to the verge of tears. Aunt Jane's sharp ears heard
+it, and she looked at the head of the table, expecting to hear a rebuke; but
+Lady Merrifield turned a deaf ear on that side. Only after the meal, she called
+her son, 'Jasper,' she said, 'I want to send a note to Redford, if you like to
+ride over with it. You need not come home till eight o'clock, if it is
+moonlight, it the boys are disengaged, and if you do really wish to keep out of
+the way.'</p>
+<p>Jasper's eyes fell under hers.</p>
+<p>'Mamma, I don't want that.'</p>
+<p>'Only you said more than you meant, Japs. If it relieves your mind, it hurts
+other people. But I do want the note taken, so go and come back in time for the
+sports; which I don't think you will find much damaged.'</p>
+<p>Meantime, Aunt Jane had ensconced herself behind the curtains; where she
+admitted no one but Miss Vincent and Uncle Reginald, and in process of time,
+mamma and Macrae. The others were still fully employed in garnishing the tree,
+though it was only to bear lights, ornaments and sweets. All solid articles had
+been for some time past committed to a huge box, or ottoman, the veteran
+companion of the family travels, which stood in the centre of the bay. Into its
+capacious interior everybody had been dropping parcels of various sizes and
+shapes, with addresses in all sorts of hands, which were to find their
+destination on this great evening. This was part of the mystery that kept Mysie
+and Valetta in one continual dance and caper. It was all they could do not to
+peep between the curtains when the privileged mortals went in and out, bearing
+all sorts of mysterious loads well covered up from all eyes. Wilfred did make
+one attempt, but something extraordinary snapped at his nose, with a sharp
+crack, and drove him back with a start.</p>
+<p>A lamp had been taken thither, and there really was nothing more to do to the
+tree, the scraps of packing had been picked up, and the hands, tingling from
+fir-needle pricks, had been washed, though not without protest from Valetta that
+it wasn't worth while, and from Wilfred that it was all along of these horrid
+swells--!</p>
+<p>The sound of wheels summoned Lady Merrifield and her brother from the place
+of mystery, and they were in the hall when a fresh gust of keen air came in from
+the door, an ulstered figure hurried in, and something small and furred was put
+into the lady's embrace.</p>
+<p>'Here's my Fly, Lily--! Look, Fly, here they all are--all the cousins. Off
+with the hat. Let us see your funny little face.'</p>
+<p>It was a funny little smiling face, set in short, light, wavy hair, not
+exactly pretty, but with a bright, quaint, confiding look, as if used to be
+shown off by her father, and ready to make friends on the spot. 'And how is your
+boy?' as the round of greetings was completed, and the wraps thrown off.</p>
+<p>'Going on capitally, better than he deserves, the young scamp, for
+suppressing all symptoms for fear he should be hindered from coming home. His
+mother was in a proper fright, she showed him to the doctor on the way, who told
+her to put him to bed at once, and send his sister out of the house. She never
+set eyes on him, or I would not have brought her here.'</p>
+<p>'I am exceedingly glad you have,' said Lady Merrifield, bending for another
+kiss.</p>
+<p>'And Lily, I've done another awful thing. Victoria kept old nurse to help
+with Ivinghoe, and we brought the Swiss bonne, Louise, away with us, but the
+poor thing found her sister very ill in London, and I hadn't the heart to bring
+her away, so Phyllis said she would do for herself, if your maid, or some of
+them, would have an eye to her.'</p>
+<p>'There! I'm doubly glad, Rotherwood! If I had any fears it was not of you, or
+Phyllis; but that like Vich Ian Vhor, she should have her tail on. And, oh!
+Rotherwood, do you know what you are in for?'</p>
+<p>'High jinks of some sort, I've no doubt. We picked up a couple of boxes at
+Gunter's and Miller's with a view thereto. Who is master of the revels?'</p>
+<p>'Jane. She's too deep in preparations to come forth at present. Gillian, will
+you take Phyllis to the nursery, and take care of her. We are to have a very
+high tea at half-past six; but, Rotherwood, I promise that another day you shall
+have a respectable dinner in this house.'</p>
+<p>'Return to the prose of life, eh, Lily? Well, Fly, what do you think of it?'</p>
+<p>'Oh, daddy, aren't you glad we came?' she cried, dancing off, in Gillian's
+wake, arm-in-arm with Mysie and Valetta, while he called after her, 'Find the
+boxes, and make them over to the right quarter.'</p>
+<p>This was enough to make the whole bevy of children rush away, and only the
+three elders remained. Lord Rotherwood said, 'This is short notice. Lily; but I
+did not know Reginald was here, and I thought you might want help. Don't be
+frightened, only a queer thing has happened. I went to W.'s bank yesterday. I
+thought they looked at me as if something was up, and by-and-by one of the
+partners came and took me into his private room. There he showed me a cheque,
+and asked my opinion whether the writing was Maurice's. And I should say it
+decidedly was, but it was actually for seventy pounds, payable to order of Miss
+Dolores M. Mohun.'</p>
+<p>'Seventy!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, and dated the 19th of August.'</p>
+<p>'Just before Maurice went.'</p>
+<p>There was a sudden silence, for the door opened; but it was to admit Miss
+Mohun, who began, 'Oh! Rotherwood, you are too munificent. Why, what's the
+matter?' Lady Merrifield hastily explained, as far as she yet understood, what
+had brought him.</p>
+<p>'How did they get the cheque?' she asked.</p>
+<p>'Sent up from the country bank where it had been cashed--Darminster.'</p>
+<p>'Ah!' came from both the aunts.</p>
+<p>Lord Rotherwood went on. 'They asked me who Miss Dolores Mohun was, and I
+could do no otherwise than tell them, and likewise where to find her, but I
+explained that she is a mere child; and I told them I would come down here, so I
+hope you will have as little annoyance as possible.'</p>
+<p>'It is very good of you, Rotherwood, but I can't understand it at all. Was
+her name on the back?'</p>
+<p>'Certainly; I told them I thought the whole thing must be a well got up
+forgery, and a confidential clerk was to go down today to Darminster to try to
+find out who gave it in there.'</p>
+<p>'Darminster! Flinders!' ejaculated Miss Mohun.</p>
+<p>'Regie,' exclaimed Lady Merrifield; 'what did you say about having seen some
+one like Dolores at Darminster station?'</p>
+<p>'I was nearly jumping out after her. I should have said it was herself, if it
+had not been impossible. Why she was with you at Rockstone, and it was a
+pouring, dripping day,' said the colonel.</p>
+<p>'No, she was not. She begged to spend the day with Constance Hacket, and we
+picked her up as we came home. Poor child, what has she been doing? I have not
+looked after her properly.'</p>
+<p>'But need she have had anything to do with it?' said Colonel Mohun.</p>
+<p>'How should a cheque of Maurice's come into her possession?'</p>
+<p>'She did tell me,' said Lady Merrifield,' that her father had left one with
+her to pay for some German scientific book that might be sent for him.'</p>
+<p>'I see, then!' cried Miss Mohun. 'That wretch Flinders must have got into
+communication with her, and induced her to fill up her father's cheque for him.'</p>
+<p>'But why should it be Flinders?' said Lord Rotherwood.</p>
+<p>'Jane found out that he is living at Darminster, and has been trying to put
+me on my guard,' returned Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'It is all that fellow Flinders, depend upon it,' said Colonel Mohun. 'He is
+quite capable of it, and you'll find poor Dolly has nothing to do with it. Quite
+preposterous. And look here, Lily, let the poor child alone to enjoy herself
+tonight. Most likely Rotherwood's clerk, or detective, or whatever he may be,
+will have ferreted out the rights of the matter at Darminster. I sincerely hope
+he will, and have Flinders in custody, and then you would have upset her and
+accused her all for nothing.'</p>
+<p>'I am glad you think so, Regie,' said Lady Merrifield. 'I am thankful enough
+to wait, and hope it will be explained without spoiling the children's evening.'</p>
+<p>'All right,' said the visitor; 'I only hope I have not spoilt yours.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! one learns to throw things off. I shall believe it is all Flinders, and
+none of it the child's,' said Lady Merrifield, carefully avoiding a glance that
+could show her any gesture of dissent on the part of her sister, and only
+looking up for her brother's nod of approval. 'Besides, how foolish it would be
+to worry myself when I have two such protectors! It was very good in you,
+Rotherwood, I only hope we shall take good care of your Fly, and that her mother
+will be satisfied about her.'</p>
+<p>'She knew the little woman and I should have a lark together,' said he. 'The
+governess was safe out of reach, holiday-making, so I could have her all to
+myself. Victoria suggested her brother's, and we must go there before we have
+done, but business and the pantomime by good luck took us to London first. So
+when I wrote to you from the bank, I also let her know that I was obliged to
+take the little woman down here first. I couldn't take her to High Court till
+Louise is available again.'</p>
+<p>'So much the better, I'm sure.'</p>
+<p>'And what I was going to say is, that Rotherwood has been startlingly
+munificent and splendid,' said Aunt Jane. 'We shall have a set of new
+surprises.'</p>
+<p>'I don't in the least know what I brought. I only told each of them to put up
+such a box as they sent out for Christmas concerns. Do precisely what you please
+with them.'</p>
+<p>'Come and see, Lily, for I think there will be enough to reserve a fresh lot
+of things for Miss Hacket's affair. By-the-by, Regie, did you say it rained at
+Darminster?'</p>
+<p>'Poured all the way down.'</p>
+<p>'Well, we had it quite fine.'</p>
+<p>'Was it fine here?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, certainly,' said Lady Merrifield,' or Primrose would not have gone out.
+Take care of Rotherwood, Regie. You know his room.'</p>
+<p>And the two sisters crossed the hall, where the 'very high tea' was being
+laid; hearing from the regions above sounds of exquisite glee and merriment, as
+perfect and almost as inexpressive of anything else as the singing of birds, so
+that they themselves could not help answering with a laugh, before they vanished
+into the chamber of mystery.</p>
+<p>Indeed, Phyllis's conversation was like a fairy tale. Her brother's illness,
+which was not enough to damp any one's spirits, had prevented or hindered a
+grand children's party as the Butterfly's Ball, where she was to have been the
+Butterfly, and Lord Ivinghoe the Grasshopper, and all the children were to
+appear as one of the characters in Roscoe's pretty poem. Never was anything more
+delightful to the imagination of the little cousins, and they could not marvel
+enough at her seeming so little uneasy about anything so charming, and quite
+ready and eager to throw herself headlong into all their present enjoyments,
+making wonderful surmises as to the mystery in preparation.</p>
+<p>Dolores heard the laughing, and it did not suit with her vaguely uneasy and
+injured frame of mind; feeling dreadfully lonely too, as she came downstairs,
+dressed for the evening, but not knowing where to go, for the dining-room was
+engrossed, the schoolroom was dark and the fire out, the drawing-room occupied
+by the two gentlemen. She crouched down in one of the big arm-chairs on either
+side of the hearth in the hall, and began to read by the firelight. Presently
+Jasper came in from his ride, and began taking off his greatcoat, leggings, and
+boots, whistling as he did so, then, perceiving the tempting object of a black
+leg sticking out of the chair, he stole up across the soft carpet, and caught
+hold of the ankle. He received a vigorous kick in return (which perhaps he
+expected) but what he did not expect was the black figure that rose up in
+outraged dignity and indignation. 'For shame! I won't be insulted!'</p>
+<p>'Whew! I thought 'twas Val! I beg your pardon.'</p>
+<p>'I shall ask my aunt if I am to be insulted.'</p>
+<p>'Well, if you choose to take it in that way--A man can't do more than beg
+pardon! I'm sure I would never have presumed to touch you if I had known it was
+your Dolorousness.'</p>
+<p>And he turned to walk away, just as the babbling ripple of laughter began to
+flow downstairs, and a whole mass of little girls intertwined together was
+descending. 'I always hop,' said a voice new to him, 'except on the great
+staircase, and mother doesn't like it there. But this is such a jolly stair.
+Can't you hop?'</p>
+<p>Hopping in a threefold embrace on a slippery stair was hardly a safe pastime,
+and before Jasper had time to utter more than' Holloa there! take care!' there
+descended suddenly on him an avalanche of little girls, 'knocking him off his
+feet, so that all promiscuously rolled down two or three steps together. Fergus
+and Primrose, who had somehow been holding on behind,' remained upright, but
+nevertheless screaming. The shrieks of the fallen were, however, laughter. There
+was a soft rug below, and by the time the gentlemen had rushed out of the
+dining-room, and the ladies from the curtained recess, giggling below and legs
+above were chiefly apparent.</p>
+<p>'Any one hurt?' was of course Lady Merrifield's cry.</p>
+<p>'Oh no, mamma. Only we are so mixed up we can't get up,' called out Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Is this arm you or me?' exclaimed Phyllis, following up the joke.</p>
+<p>'Come, sort yourselves, ladies and gentlemen,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'What's
+this, a Fly's wing?'</p>
+<p>'No, it's mine,' cried Val, as his hand pulled her out, and the others
+extricated themselves, still laughing, go that they could hardly stand, and Fly
+declaring, 'Oh, daddy, daddy, it is such fun! I am so glad we came,' and taking
+a gratuitous leap into the air.</p>
+<p>'Every one to her taste,' said Lady Merrifield, 'I congratulate those to whom
+a compound tumble-down-stairs is felicity.'</p>
+<p>'She has found her congenial element, you see,' said her father, as the
+elders proceeded upstairs to their toilette.' 'Tis laughing-gas with her to be
+with other children, and the most laughingest of all are naturally yours, old
+Lily.'</p>
+<p>Meanwhile Jasper, risen on his stocking soles, looked all over at the little
+figure, dressed old picture fashion, in the simplest white frock with blue sash,
+and short-cut hair tied back with blue.</p>
+<p>'Well, you are a jolly little girl,' he said, 'and a cool customer, too! What
+do you mean by knocking a fellow over the first time you see him?'</p>
+<p>'And what do you mean by coming like a great--huge--big elephant in our way
+to stop up the stairs?' demanded Fly, in return.</p>
+<p>'Do you mean to insinivate that 'twas I that made you fall?' said Jasper--'I,
+that was quietly walking up the stairs, when down there came on me a shower--not
+cats and dogs, but worserer, far worserer! Why, I'm kilt! my nose is flat as a
+pancake, I shan't recover my beauty all the evening for the great swells that
+are coming.'</p>
+<p>'Jasper, Japs,' called his mother's warning voice, 'you must come up and
+dress, for tea is going in.'</p>
+<p>He obeyed, rushing two steps at a time; but meeting, at the bottom of the
+attic flight, his sister Gillian, he demanded, 'Gill, what awfully jolly little
+girl have they got down there?'</p>
+<p>'Why, Fly, of course, Lady Phyllis Devereux--'</p>
+<p>'No, no, nothing swell, a comical little soul, with no nonsense about her, in
+a white thing.'</p>
+<p>'Well, that's Phyllis. There's no one else there.'</p>
+<p>'I say. Gill, 'tis like sunshine and clouds. She and the other, I mean. Why,
+I gave a little pull to a foot I saw in the armchair, thinking it belonged to
+Val, and out breaks my Lady of the Rueful Countenance, vowing she'll complain
+that I've insulted her; and as to the other, the whole lot of them tumbled over
+me together on the stairs, and she did nothing but laugh and chaff.'</p>
+<p>'I hope she is not a romp,' said the staid Gillian, sagely, as she went
+downstairs.</p>
+<p>But on that score she was soon satisfied. Phyllis Devereux was a thorough
+little lady, wild and merry as she was, and enchanted to be in the rare
+fairyland of child companionship. And that indeed she had, Mysie and Valetta,
+between whose ages she stood, hung to her inseparably, and Jasper was quite
+transformed from his grim superciliousness into her devoted knight. At tea-time
+there was a competition for the seats next to her, determined by Valetta's
+taking one side, in right of the birthday, and Jasper the other, because he
+secured it, and Mysie gave way to him because he was Japs, and she always did.
+While Dolores laid up a store of moralizings on the adulation paid to the little
+lady of title, and at the same time speculated what concatenation of
+circumstances could ever make her Lady Dolores Mohun. On the whole, it would be
+more likely that her father should gain a peerage by putting down a Fijian
+rebellion than that it should be discovered that his mother, Lady Emily, had
+been the true heiress of the marquessate, and even so, an uncomfortable number
+of people must be disposed of before it could come to him. She had one
+consolation, however, for Uncle Reginald, always kind to her, was particularly
+affectionate this evening, as if he would not have that little foolish Fly set
+up before her.</p>
+<p>The tea and the tree both went off joyously. There is no need to describe the
+spectacle to folks who can count their Christmas-trees by the years of their
+life and the memorable part of this one was that much of the fruit that had been
+left hanging on it was now metamorphosed into something much more
+gorgeous--oranges had become eggs full of sugar-plums, gutta-percha monkeys
+grinned on the branches, golden flowers had sprung to life on the ends of the
+twigs, a lovely jewel-like lantern crowned the whole, and as to sweets,
+everybody-servants and all--had some delightful devices containing them, whether
+drum, bird, or bird's nest.</p>
+<p>Before the distribution was over, it was observed that Aunt Jane and Uncle
+Reginald, also Harry, had vanished from the scene. There was a pause, during
+which such tapers as began to burn perilously low, were extinguished, an
+operation as delightful apparently as the fixing them. Presently a horn was
+heard, and a start or shudder of mysterious ecstasy pervaded the audience, as a
+tall figure came through the curtains, and announced:</p>
+<p>'Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honour to inform you that a fresh discovery
+has been made in the secret chambers of the Pyramid of Chops, otherwise known as
+Te-Gun-Ter-ra. A mummy has been disinterred, which is about to be opened by the
+celebrated Egyptologist, Herr Professor Freudigfeldius, who has likewise
+discovered the means of making such a conjuration of the Sphynx that she will
+not only summon each of the present company by name, but will require of each of
+them to reply to a question. The penalty of a refusal is well known!'</p>
+<p>Therewith the curtains were drawn back, and a scene was presented which made
+some of the spectators start. Behind was the semblance of a wall marked with the
+joints of large stones, and lighted (apparently) with two brass lamps. On the
+floor lay extended an enormous mummy, with the regulation canvas case, and huge
+flaps of ears, between which appeared a small, painted face, and below lay a
+long, gaily coloured scroll in hieroglyphics. Exalted stiffly in a seat placed
+on a seeming block of stone, was a figure, with elbows, as it were glued to its
+sides, and hands crossed, altogether stone-coloured and monumental, and with the
+true Sphynx head, surrounded with beetles, lizards, and other mystic creatures
+(very chocolate-coloured). And beside her stood the Herr Professor, in a red
+fez, long dark gown, and spectacles, a flowing beard concealing the rest of his
+face. How delightful to see such an Egyptologist! Even though one perfectly knew
+the family beard and fez; also that the gown was papa's old dressing-gown,
+captured for the theatrical wardrobe. And how grand to hear him speak, even
+though his broken English continually became more vernacular.</p>
+<p>'Liebes Herrschaft,' he began, 'I would, nobles, gentry, and ladies say. You
+here see the embalmed rests of the celebrated monarch Nic-nac-ci-no. Lately up
+have I them graben, and likewise his tutelar Sphynx have found, and have even to
+give signs of animation compelled.'</p>
+<p>Touching the effigy with his wand, she emitted certain growls and hisses,
+which made Primrose hide her face in alarm at anything so uncanny, and Lord
+Rotherwood observe--</p>
+<p>'Nearly related to the cat-goddess Pasht; I thought so.'</p>
+<p>'There was something of the lion or cat in the Sphynx,' said Gillian,
+gravely, while the three little girls clasped each other's hands with delightful
+thrills of awe and expectation.</p>
+<p>'Observe,' continued the Professor, 'the outer case with the features of the
+deceased is painted. I should conclude that King Nic-nac, etcetera, had been of
+a peculiarly jolly--I mean frolich--nature, judging by the grin on his face. We
+proceed--'</p>
+<p>As he laid his hand on the wrapper, the Sphynx gave utterance to sounds so
+like the bad language of a cat that some looked round for one. The Professor
+waved at her, and she subsided. He turned back the covering, and demanded, 'Will
+the amiable Fraulein there. Mademoiselle Valetta, come and see what treasures
+she can discover in the secrets of the tomb?'</p>
+<p>Val, who in right of her birthday, had expected the first call, jumped up,
+but the Sphynx made awful noises as she advanced, and the Professor explained
+that she would have to answer the Sphynx's question first.</p>
+<p>'But I don't know Egyptian,' she observed.</p>
+<p>'Never mind, it will sound like English.'</p>
+<p>It did so, for it was, 'How many months old art thou, maiden?'</p>
+<p>Val's arithmetic was slightly scared. She clasped her hand nervously, and was
+indebted to the Professor for the sotto voce hint, 'twelve nines,' before she
+uttered 'a hundred and eight.'</p>
+<p>The Sphynx relapsed into stoniness, and the Herr Professor guided the hands,
+which trembled a little, to the interior of the mummy, whence they drew out a
+basket, labelled (wonderful to relate) 'Val,' and containing--oh! such
+treasures, a blue egg full of needlework implements, a new book, an Indian ivory
+case, a skipping-rope, a shuttlecock, and other delights past description. The
+exhibition of them was only beginning when the Professor called for Primrose,
+who was too much frightened to come alone, and therefore was permitted to be
+brought by Mrs. Halfpenny. The Sphynx was particularly amiable on this occasion,
+and only asked 'When Primroses came?' and as the little one, in her shy fright
+did not reply, nurse did so, with, 'Come, missie, can't you find a word to tell
+that mamma's Primrose came in spring.' This was allowed to pass, and Mrs.
+Halfpenny bore off her child, clutching a doll's cradle, stuffed with pretty
+things, and for herself a bundle wrapped up in a shawl from Sir Jasper himself.</p>
+<p>After Primrose was gone to bed, the Sphynx became much more ill-tempered and
+demonstrative, snarling considerably at the approach of some of the party, some
+of whom replied with convulsive laughter, some, such as Jasper, with
+demonstrations of 'poking up the Sphynx.' She had a question for everybody--Fly
+was asked, 'Which was best, a tree or a Butterfly's ball?' and answered, with
+truthful politeness, that where Mysie and Val were was best of all. She carried
+off a collection that had hastily been made of Indian curiosities, photographs
+of her two friends, and a book; and her father, after being asked, 'What was the
+best of insects?' and replying, 'On the whole, I think it is my house-fly, even
+when she isn't a butterfly,' received a letter-weight of brass, fashioned like
+an enormous fly, which Lady Merrifield had snatched up from the table for the
+purpose. The maids giggled at the well-known conundrums proposed to them, and
+Dolores had a very easy question --' What was the weather this day week?'</p>
+<p>'A horrid wet day,' she promptly answered, and found herself endowed with a
+parcel containing some of the best presents of all, bangles from the Indian box,
+a beautiful pair of stork-like scissors, a writing-case, etc.</p>
+<p>'The Sphynx's invention is running low,' observed Jasper to Gillian, when the
+creature put the same question about last week's weather to Herbert, the
+page-boy, as a prelude to his discovering the treasures of the mummy, as a knife
+and an umbrella. His view of the weather was that it was 'A fine day ma'am! yes,
+a fine day.'</p>
+<p>Macrae came last, and the Sphynx asked him which of the two contrary views
+was right.</p>
+<p>'It was fine, ma'am, that I know. For I walked down with nurse, and little
+Miss Primrose into Silverton, to help to carry her in case she was tired, and we
+never had occasion to put up an umbrella.'</p>
+<p>Wherewith Macrae received his combination of gifts and retired; the mummy
+being completely rifled, and the construction of the body, a frame of light,
+open wicker-work, revealed. Aunt Jane had had it made at the basketmaker's,
+while as to the head and covering, her own ingenious fingers had painted and
+fashioned them. Everybody had to look at everybody's presents, a lengthened
+operation, and then there was a splendid game at blindman's-buff in the hall, in
+which all the elders joined, except mamma, who had to go and sit in the nursery
+with the restless and excited Primrose while Mrs. Halfpenny and Lots went down
+to the servants' festivity.</p>
+<p>When she came down again, it was to quiet the tempest of merriment, and send
+off the younger folks in succession to bed, till only the four elders and Hal
+remained on the scene, waiting till there was reason to think the household
+would be ready for prayers.</p>
+<p>'It was Dolores that you saw at Darminster, Reginald,' said Miss Mohun,
+quietly.</p>
+<p>'You Sphynx woman, how do you know?'</p>
+<p>'You said it was raining at Darminster.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, that it was, everywhere beyond the tunnel through the Darfield hills.'</p>
+<p>'Exactly, I know they make a line in the rainfall. Well, here it was dry, but
+Dolores called it a wet day.'</p>
+<p>'Now I call that too bad, Jane, to lay a trap for the poor child in the
+game,' cried Colonel Mohun, just as if they had still been boy and girl
+together.</p>
+<p>'It was to satisfy my own mind,' she said, colouring a little. 'I didn't want
+any one to act on it. Indeed, I think there will be no occasion.'</p>
+<p>'Besides,' he added, 'it is nothing to go upon! No doubt, if it wasn't
+raining, it was the next thing to it here, and bow was she to recollect at this
+distance of time? I won't have her caught out in that way!'</p>
+<p>'I am glad she has a champion, Regie,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Here come the
+servants.'</p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XIV.<br>
+A CYPHER AND A TY.</h3>
+
+<p>Dolores was coming down to breakfast the next morning when Colonel Mohun's
+door opened. He exclaimed, 'My little Dolly, good morning!' stooped down and
+kissed her.</p>
+<p>Then, standing still a moment, and holding her hand, he said--</p>
+<p>'Dolly, it was not you I saw at Darminster station?'</p>
+<p>It was a terrible shock. Some one, no doubt, was trying to set him against
+her. And should she betray Constance and her uncle? At any rate, almost before
+she knew what she was saying, 'No, Uncle Regie,' was out of her mouth, and her
+conscience was being answered with 'How do I know it was me that he saw? these
+fur capes are very common.'</p>
+<p>'I thought not,' he answered, kindly. 'Look here, Dolly, I want one word with
+you. Did your father ever leave anything in charge with you for Mr. Flinders?
+Did he ever speak to you about him?'</p>
+<p>'Never,' Dolores truly answered.</p>
+<p>'Because, my dear, though it's a hard thing to say, and your poor mother felt
+bound to him, he is a slippery fellow--a scamp, in fact, and if ever he writes
+to you here, you had better send the letter straight off to me, and I'll see
+what's to be done. He never has, I suppose?'</p>
+<p>'No,' said Dolores, answering the word here, and foolishly feeling the
+involvement too great, and Constance too much concerned in it for her to confess
+to her uncle what had really happened. Indeed, the first falsehood held her to
+the second; and there was no more time, for Lord Rotherwood was coming out of
+his room further down the passage. And after the greetings, as she went
+downstairs before the two gentlemen, she was sure she heard Uncle Regie say,
+'She's all right.' What could it mean? Was a storm averted? or was it brewing?
+Could that spiteful Aunt Jane and her questions about the weather be at the
+bottom of it?</p>
+<p>The fun that was going on at breakfast seemed a mere roar of folly to her,
+and she had an instinct of nothing but getting away to Constance. She soon found
+that there would be opportunity enough, for the tree was to be taken down in a
+barrow, and all the youthful world was to carry down the decorations in baskets,
+and help to put them on. She dashed off among the first to put on her things,
+and then was disappointed to find that first all the pets were to be fed and
+shown off to Fly, who appreciated them far more than she had done--knew how to
+lay hold of a rabbit, nursed the guinea-pigs and puppies in turn, and was
+rapturous in her acceptance of two young guinea-pigs and one puppy.</p>
+<p>'I can keep them up in daddy's dressing-room while we are at High Court, and
+it will be such fun,' she said.</p>
+<p>'Will he let you?' asked Gillian, in some doubt.</p>
+<p>'Oh! daddy will always let me, and so will Griffin--his man, you know, only
+we left him in London because daddy said he would be in your butler's way, but I
+can't think why. Griffin would have helped about the tree and learnt to make a
+mummy when we have our party. Louise would not let me have them in the nursery,
+I know, but daddy and Griffin would, and I could go and feed them in the morning
+before breakfast. Griffin would get me bran! That is, if we do go to High Court;
+I wish we were to stay on here. There's nobody to play with at High Court, and
+grandpapa always keeps daddy talking politics, so that I can hardly ever get
+him! Mysie, whatever do you do with your father away in India?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, it is horrid. But then, there's mamma,' said Mysie, whispering,
+however, as she saw Dolores near, and feared to hurt her feelings.</p>
+<p>'Ah!' said Fly, with a tender little shake of her head; ''tis worse for her
+to have no mother at all! Is that why she looks so sad?'</p>
+<p>'Cross' is the word,' said Wilfred. 'I can't think what she is come bothering
+down here for!'</p>
+<p>'Oh! for shame, Wilfred!' said Fly. 'You should be sorry for her.' And she
+went up to Dolores, and by way of doing the kindest thing in the world, said--</p>
+<p>'Here's my new puppy. Is not he a dear? I'll let you hold him,' and she
+attempted to deposit the fat, curly, satiny creature in Dolores's arms, which
+instantly hung down stiff, as she answered, half in fright, 'I hate dogs!' The
+puppy fell down with a flop, and began to squeak, while the girls, crying, 'Oh!
+Dolly, how could you!' and 'Poor little pup!' all crowded round in pity and
+indignation, and Wilfred observed, 'I told you so!'</p>
+<p>'You'll get no change but that out of the Lady of the Rueful Countenance,'
+said Jasper.</p>
+<p>Mysie had for once nothing to say in Dolores's defence, being equally hurt
+for Fly's sake and the puppy's. Dolores found herself virtually sent to
+Coventry, as she accompanied the party across the paddock, only just near enough
+to benefit by their protection from the herd of half-grown calves which were
+there disporting themselves; and, as if to make the contrast still more
+provoking, Fly, who had a natural affinity for all animals, insisted on trying
+to attract them, calling, 'Sukkey! sukkey!' and hold out bunches of grass, in
+vain, for they only galloped away, and she could only explain how tame those at
+home were, and how she went out farming with daddy whenever he had time, and
+mother and Fraulein would let her out.</p>
+<p>The tree meantime came trundling down, a wonderful spectacle, with all its
+gilt balls and fir-cones nodding and dangling wildly, and its other
+embellishments turning upside down. There were greetings of delight at Casement
+Cottage, and Miss Hacket had kissed everybody all round before Gillian had time
+to present the new-comer, and then the good lady was shocked at her own
+presumption, and exclaimed--</p>
+<p>'I beg your ladyship's pardon! Dear me! I had no notion who it was!'</p>
+<p>'Then please kiss me again now you do know!' said Fly, holding up her funny
+little face to that very lovable kind one, and they were all soon absorbed in
+the difficulty of getting the tree in at the front door, and setting it up in
+the room that had been prepared for it.</p>
+<p>Dolores had hoped to confide her alarms to Constance's sympathetic ear, but
+her friend, who had written and dreamt of many a magnificently titled scion of
+the peerage, but had never before seen one in her own house, had not a minute to
+spare for her, being far too much engrossed in observing the habits of the
+animal. These certainly were peculiar, since she insisted on a waltz round the
+room with the tabby cat, and ascended a step-ladder, merrily spurning Jasper's
+protection, to insert the circle of tapers on the crowning chandelier. There was
+nothing left for Dolores to do but to sit by in the window-seat, philosophizing
+on the remarkable effects of a handle to one's name, and feeling cruelly
+neglected.</p>
+<p>Suddenly she saw a fly coming up to the gate. There was a general peeping and
+wondering. Then Uncle Reginald and a stranger got out and came up to the door.
+There was a ring--everybody paused and wondered for a moment; then the maid
+tapped at the door and said, 'Would Miss Mohun come and speak to Colonel Mohun a
+minute in the drawing-room?'</p>
+<p>There was a hush of dread throughout the room. 'Ah!' sighed Miss Hacket,
+looking at Gillian, and all the elders thought without saying that some terrible
+news of her father had to be told to the poor child. They let her go, frightened
+at the summons, but that idea not occurring to her.</p>
+<p>'There!' said Uncle Regie, 'she can set it straight. Don't be frightened, my
+dear; only tell this gentleman whether that is your writing.'</p>
+<p>The stranger held a strip so that she could only just see 'Dolores M. Mohun,'
+and she unhesitatingly answered 'Yes'--very much surprised.</p>
+<p>'You are sure?' said her uncle, in a tone of disappointment that made her
+falter, as she added, 'I think so.' At the same time the stranger turned the
+paper round, and she knew it for the cheque that had so long resided in her
+desk, but with dilated eyes, she exclaimed, 'But--but--that was for seven
+pounds!'</p>
+<p>'That,' said the stranger, 'then, Miss Mohun, you know this draft?'</p>
+<p>'Only it was for seven,' repeated Dolores.</p>
+<p>'You mean, I conclude, that it was drawn for seven pounds, and that it was
+still for seven when it left your handy?'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' muttered Dolores, who was beginning to get very much frightened, at
+she knew not what, and to feel on her guard at all points.</p>
+<p>'There's nothing to be afraid of, my dear,' said Uncle Reginald, tenderly;
+'nobody suspects you of anything. Only tell us. Did your father give you this
+paper?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'And when did you cash it?' asked the clerk.</p>
+<p>Dolores hung her head. 'I didn't,' she said.</p>
+<p>'But how did it get out of your possession?' said her uncle. 'You are sure
+this is your own writing at the back. It could surely not have been stolen from
+her?' he added to the stranger.</p>
+<p>'That could hardly be,' said that person. 'Miss Mohun, you had better speak
+out. To whom did you give this cheque?'</p>
+<p>There was a whirl of terror all round about Dolores, a horror of bringing
+herself first, then Uncle Alfred, Constance, and everybody else into trouble.
+She took refuge in uttering not a word.</p>
+<p>'Dolores,' said her uncle, and his tone was now much more grave and less
+tender, thus increasing her terror; 'this silence is of no use. Did you give
+this cheque to Mr. Flinders?'</p>
+<p>In the silence, the ticks of the clock on the mantel-piece seemed like a
+hammer beating on her ears. Dolores thought of the morning's flat denial of all
+intercourse with Flinders! Then the word give occurred to her as a loophole, and
+her mind did not embrace all the consequences of the denial, she only saw one
+thing at a time, 'I didn't give it,' she answered, almost inaudibly.</p>
+<p>'You did not give it?' repeated her uncle, getting angry and speaking loud.
+'Then how did it get into his hands? Is there no truth in you?' he added, after
+a pause, which only terrified her more and more. 'Whom did you give it to?'</p>
+<p>'Constance!' The word came out she hardly knew how, as something which at
+least was true. Colonel Mohun knocked at the door of the room she had come from.
+It was instantly opened, and Miss Hacket began, 'The poor dear! Can I get
+anything for her, I am sure it is a terrible shock!' and as he stood,
+astonished, Gillian added, 'Oh! I see it isn't that. We were afraid it was
+something about Uncle Maurice.'</p>
+<p>'No, my dear, no such thing. Only would Miss Constance Hacket be kind enough
+to come here a minute?'</p>
+<p>'Oh! My apron! My fingers! Excuse me for being such a figure!' Constance ran
+on, as Colonel Mohun made her come across to the room opposite, where she looked
+about her in amazement. Was the stranger a publisher about to make her an offer
+for the 'Waif of the Moorland.' But Dolores's down-cast attitude and set, sullen
+face forbade the idea.</p>
+<p>'Miss Constance Hacket,' said the colonel, 'here is an uncomfortable matter
+in which we want your assistance. Will you kindly answer a question or two from
+Mr. Ellis, the manager of the .... Bank?'</p>
+<p>Then the manager politely asked her if she had seen the cheque before.</p>
+<p>'Yes--why--what's wrong about it? Oh! It is for seventy! Why, Dolores, I
+thought it was only for seven?'</p>
+<p>'It was for seven when you parted with it, then, Miss Hacket,' said the
+manager; 'let me ask whether you changed it yourself?'</p>
+<p>'No,' she said, 'I sent it to--' and there she came to a dead pause, in
+alarm.</p>
+<p>'Did you send it to Mr. Alfred Flinders?' said Mr. Ellis.</p>
+<p>'Yes--oh!' another little scream, 'He can't have done it. He can't be such a
+villain! Your own uncle, Dolores.'</p>
+<p>'He is no uncle of Dolores Mohun!' said the colonel. 'He is only the son of
+her mother's step-mother by her first marriage.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Dolores, then you deceived me!' exclaimed Constance; 'you told me he was
+your own uncle, or I would never--and oh! my fifteen pounds. Where is he?'</p>
+<p>'That, madam,' said Mr. Ellis, gravely, 'I hope the police may discover. He
+has quitted Darminster after having cashed this cheque for seventy pounds. We
+have already telegraphed to the police to be on the look out for him, but I much
+fear that it will be too late.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! my fifteen pounds! What shall I do? Oh, Dolores, how could you? I shall
+never trust any one again!'</p>
+<p>Perhaps Uncle Reginald felt the same, but he only darted a look upon his
+niece, which she felt in every nerve, though to his eyes she only stood hard and
+stolid. The manager, who found Constance's torrent of words as hard to deal with
+as Dolores's silence, asked for pen and ink, and begged to take down Miss
+Hacket's statement to lay before a magistrate in case of Flinders's
+apprehension. It was not very easy to keep her to the point, especially as her
+chief interest was in her own fifteen pounds, of which Mr. Ellis only would say
+that she could prosecute the man for obtaining money on false pretences, and
+this she trusted meant getting it back again. As to the cheque in question, she
+told how Dolores had entrusted it to her to send to her supposed uncle, Mr.
+Flinders, to whom it had been promised the day they went to Darminster, and she
+was quite ready to depose that when it left her hands, it was only for seven
+pounds.</p>
+<p>This was all that the bank manager wanted. He thanked her, told Colonel Mohun
+they should hear from him, and went off in a hurry, both to communicate with the
+police, and to leave the young ladies to be dealt with by their friends, who, he
+might well suppose, would rather that he removed himself.</p>
+<p>'Put on your hat, Dolores,' said Colonel Mohun, gravely; 'you had better come
+home with me! Miss Hacket, excuse me, but I am afraid I must ask whether you
+have been assisting in a correspondence between my niece and this Flinders?'</p>
+<p>'Oh! Colonel Mohun, you will believe me, I was quite deceived. Dolores
+represented that he was her uncle, to whom she was much attached, and that Lady
+Merrifield separated her from him out of mere family prejudice.'</p>
+<p>'I am afraid you have paid dearly for your sympathy,' said the colonel. 'It
+certainly led you far when you assisted your friend to deceive the aunt who
+trusted you with her.'</p>
+<p>The movement that was taking place seemed like licence to that roomful,
+burning with curiosity to break out. Mysie was running after Dolores to ask if
+she could do anything for her, but Colonel Mohun called her back with 'Not now,
+Mysie.' Miss Hacket came forward with agitated hopes that nothing was amiss,
+and, at sight of her, Constance collapsed quite. 'Oh, Mary,' she cried out, 'I
+have been so deceived! Oh! that man!' and she sunk upon a chair in a violent fit
+of crying, which alarmed Miss Hacket so dreadfully that she looked imploringly
+up to Colonel Mohun. He had meant to have left Miss Constance to explain, but he
+saw it was necessary to relieve the poor elder sister's mind from worse fears by
+saying, 'I am afraid it is my niece who deceived her, by leading her into
+forwarding letters and money to a person who calls himself a relation. He seems
+to have been guilty of a forgery, which may have unpleasant consequences.
+Children, I think you had better follow us home.'</p>
+<p>Dolores had come down by this time, and Colonel Mohun walked home, at some
+paces from her, very much as if he had been guarding a criminal under arrest.
+Poor Uncle Reginald! He had put such absolute trust in the two answers she had
+made him in the morning; and had been so sure of her good faith, that when the
+manager brought word that the cheque had been traced to Flinders, who had
+absconded, he still held that it was a barefaced forgery, entirely due to
+Flinders himself, and that Dolores could show that she had no knowledge of it,
+and he had gone down in the fly expecting to come home triumphant, and confute
+his sister Jane, who persisted in being mournfully sagacious. And he was
+indignant in proportion to the confidence he had misplaced; grieved, too, for
+his brother's sake, and absolutely ashamed.</p>
+<p>Once he asked, when they were within the paddock, out of the way of meeting
+any one, 'Have you nothing to say to me, Dolores?'</p>
+<p>It was not said in a manner to draw out an answer, and she made none at all.</p>
+<p>Again he spoke, as they came near the house:</p>
+<p>'You had better go up to your room at once. I do not know how to think of the
+blow this will be to your father.'</p>
+<p>It was so entirely what Dolores was thinking of, that it seemed to her
+barbarous to tell her of it In fact she was stunned, scarcely understanding what
+had happened, and too proud and miserable to ask for an explanation, for had not
+every one turned against her, even Uncle Reginald and Constance--and what had
+happened to that cheque?</p>
+<p>She did not see Uncle Reginald turn into the drawing-room, and letting
+himself drop despairingly into an armchair, say, 'Well, Jane, you were right,
+more's the pity!'</p>
+<p>'She really gave him the cheque!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but at least it was only for seven. The rascal himself must have
+altered it into seventy. She and the other girl both agree as to that. There's
+been a clandestine correspondence going on with that scamp ever since she has
+been here, under cover to that precious friend of hers--that Hacket girl.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! you warned me, Jenny,' said Lady Merrifield 'But I'm quite sure Miss
+Hacket knew nothing of it'</p>
+<p>'I don't suppose she did. She seemed struck all of a heap. Any way they've
+quarrelled now; the other one has turned King's evidence--has lost some money
+too, and says Dolores deceived her. She's deceived every one all round, that's
+the fact. Why she told me two flat lies this very morning--lies--there's no
+other name for it. What will you do with her, Lily?'</p>
+<p>'I don't know,' said Lady Merrifield, utterly shocked, and recollecting, but
+not mentioning, the falsehood told to her about the note. Lord Rotherwood said,
+'Poor child,' and Colonel Mohun groaned, 'Poor Maurice.'</p>
+<p>'Then she did go to Darminster?' said Miss Mohun.</p>
+<p>'Yes; that came out from this Miss Constance, who seems to have been properly
+taken in about some publishing trash. Serve her right! But it seems Dolores
+beguiled her with stories about her dear uncle in distress. We left her nearly
+in hysterics, and I told the children to come away.'</p>
+<p>'What does Dolores say?' asked Jane.</p>
+<p>'Nothing! I could not get a word out of her after the first surprise at the
+alteration of the cheque. Not a word nor a tear. She is as hard--as hard as a
+bit of stone.'</p>
+<p>'Really,' said Lady Merrifield, 'I can't help thinking there's a good deal of
+excuse for her.'</p>
+<p>'What? That poor Maurice's wife was half a heathen, and afterwards the girl
+was left to chance?' said Colonel Mohun. 'I see no other. And you, Lily, are the
+last person I should expect to excuse untruth.'</p>
+<p>'I did not mean to do that, Regie; but you all say that poor Mary was fond of
+this man and helped him.'</p>
+<p>'That she did!' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and very much against the grain it
+went with Maurice.'</p>
+<p>'Then don't you see that this poor child, who probably never had the matter
+explained to her, may have felt it a great hardship to be cut off from the man
+her mother taught her to care for; and that may have led her into concealments?'</p>
+<p>'Well!' said Colonel Mohun, 'at that rate, at least one may be thankful never
+to have married.'</p>
+<p>'One--or two, Regie?' said Jane, as they all laughed at his sally. 'I think I
+had better go up and see whether I can get anything out of the child. Do you
+mean to have her down to dinner, Lily,' she added, glancing at the clock.</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, certainly. I don't want to put her to disgrace before all the
+children and servants--that is, if she is not crying herself out of condition to
+appear, poor child.'</p>
+<p>'Not she,' said Uncle Reginald.</p>
+<p>On opening the door, the children were all discovered in the hall, in anxious
+curiosity, not venturing in uncalled, but very much puzzled.</p>
+<p>Gillian came forward and said, 'Mamma, may we know what is the matter?'</p>
+<p>'I hardly understand it myself yet, my dear, only that Dolores and Constance
+Hacket have let themselves be taken in by a sort of relation of Dolores's
+mother, and Uncle Maurice has lost a good deal of money through it. It would not
+have happened if there had been fair and upright dealing towards me; but we do
+not know the rights of it, and you had better take no notice of it to her.'</p>
+<p>'I thought,' said Valetta, sagaciously, 'no good could come of running after
+that stupid Miss Constance.'</p>
+<p>'Who can't pull a cracker, and screams at a daddy long-legs,' added Fergus.</p>
+<p>'But, mamma, what shall we do?' said Gillian. 'I came away because Uncle
+Regie told us, and Constance was crying so terribly; but what is poor Miss
+Hacket to do? There is the tree only half dressed, and all the girls coming
+to-night, unless she puts them off.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, you had better go down alone as soon as dinner is over, and see what
+she would like,' said Lady Merrifield. 'We must not leave her in the lurch, as
+if we cast her off, though I am afraid Constance has been very foolish in this
+matter. Oh, Gillian, I wish we could have made Dolores happier amongst us, and
+then this would not have happened.'</p>
+<p>'She would never let us, mamma,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>But Mysie, coming up close to her mother as they all went up the broad
+staircase to prepare for the midday meal, confessed in a grave little voice,
+'Mamma, I think I have sometimes been cross to Dolly-more lately, because it has
+been so very tiresome.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield drew the little girl into her own room, stooped down, and
+kissed her, saying, 'My dear child, these things need a great deal of patience.
+You will have to be doubly kind and forbearing now, for she must be very
+unhappy, and perhaps not like to show it. You might say a little prayer for her,
+that God will help us to be kind to her, and soften her heart.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, mamma; and, please, will you set it down for me?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, my dear, and for myself too. You shall have it before bed-time.'</p>
+<p>Aunt Jane had followed Dolores to her own room the girl, who was sitting on
+her bed, dazed, regretted that she had not bolted her door, as her aunt entered
+with the words, 'Oh, Dolores, I am very sorry I could not have thought you would
+so have abused the confidence that was placed in you.'</p>
+<p>To this Dolores did not answer. To her mind she was the person ill-used by
+the prohibition of correspondence, but she could not say so. Every one was
+falling on her; but Aunt Jane's questions could not well help being answered.</p>
+<p>'What will your father think of if?'</p>
+<p>'He never forbade me to write to Uncle Alfred' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'Because he never thought of your doing such a thing. Did he give you this
+cheque?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'For yourself?'</p>
+<p>'N-n-o. But it was the same.'</p>
+<p>'What do you mean by that?'</p>
+<p>'It was to pay a man--a man that's dead.'</p>
+<p>'That may be; but what right did that give you to spend the money otherwise?
+Who was the man?'</p>
+<p>'Professor Muhlwasser, for some books of plates.'</p>
+<p>'How do you know he is dead! Who told you so? Eh! Was it Flinders? Ah! you
+see what comes of trusting to an unprincipled man like that. If you had only
+been open and straightforward with Aunt Lily, or with any of us, you would have
+been saved from this tissue of falsehood; forfeiting your Uncle Reginald's good
+opinion, and enabling Flinders to do your father this great injury.' She paused,
+and, as Dolores made no answer, she went on again--'Indeed, there is no saying
+what you have not brought on yourself by your deceit and disobedience. If
+Flinders is apprehended, you will have to appear against him in court, and
+publicly avow that you gave away what your father trusted to you.'</p>
+<p>Dolores gave a little moan and start, and her aunt, perceiving that she had
+touched an apparently vulnerable spot, proceeded--'The only thing left for you
+to do is to tell the whole story frankly and honestly. I don't say so only for
+the sake of showing Aunt Lily that you are sorry for having abused her
+confidence. I wish I could think that you are; but, unless we know all, we
+cannot shield you from any further consequences, and that of course we should
+wish to do, for your father's sake.'</p>
+<p>Dolores did not feel drawn to confession, but she knew that when Aunt Jane
+once set herself to ask questions, there was no use in trying to conceal
+anything. So she made answers, chiefly 'Yes' or No,' and her aunt, by severe and
+diligent pumping, had extracted bit by bit what it was most essential should be
+known, before the gong summoned them. Dolores would rather have been a solitary
+prisoner, able to chafe against oppression, than have been obliged to come down
+and confront everybody; but she crept into the place left for her between Mysie
+and Wilfred. She had very little appetite, and never found out how Mysie was
+fulfilling her resolution of kindness by baulking Wilfred of sundry attempts to
+tease; by substituting her own kissing-crust for Dolly's more unpoetical piece
+of bread; and offering to exchange her delicious strawberry-jam tartlet for the
+black-currant one at which her cousin was looking with reluctant eyes.</p>
+<p>Mysie and Valetta were grievously exercised about their chances of returning
+to the G.F.S. Tree. Indeed Gillian went the length of telling them that Fly was
+behaving far better in her disappointment as to the Butterfly's Ball than they
+were as to this 'old second-hand tree.' Fly laughed and observed, 'Dear me,
+things one would like are always being stopped. If one was to mind every time,
+how horrid it would be! And there's always something to make up!'</p>
+<p>Then it occurred to Gillian, though not to her younger sisters, that Lady
+Phyllis Devereux lived in general a much less indulged, and more frequently
+disappointed, life than did herself and her sisters.</p>
+<p>However, there was great delight at that dinner-table. Jasper had ridden to
+get the letters of the second post, and Lord Rotherwood had his hands and his
+head full of them when he came in to luncheon--there being what Lady Merrifield
+called a respectable dinner in view. In the first place. Lord Ivinghoe was
+getting on very well, and was up, sitting by the fire, playing patience. Nobody
+was catching the measles, and quarantine would be over on the 9th of January.
+Secondly, 'Fly, shall you be very broken-hearted if I tell you.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, daddy, you wouldn't look like that if it was anything very bad! Lion
+isn't dead?'</p>
+<p>'No; but I grieve to say your unnatural grand-parents don't want you!
+Grandmamma is nervous about having you without mamma. What did we do last time
+we were there, Fly?'</p>
+<p>'Don't you remember, daddy? they said there was nothing for me to ride to the
+meet, and you and Griffin put the side-saddle on Crazy Kate, and we went out
+with the hounds, and I've got the brush up in my room!'</p>
+<p>'I don't wonder grandmamma is nervous,' observed Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'Will you be nervous, Lily,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'if this same flyaway
+mortal is left on your hands till the 9th?'</p>
+<p>Dinner, manners, silence before company, and all, could not repress a general
+scream of ecstacy, which called forth the reply. 'I should think you and her
+mother were the people to be nervous.</p>
+<p>'Oh! my lady has been duly instructed in Merrifield perfections, and esteems
+you a model mother.'</p>
+<p>The children's nods and smiles said 'Hear, hear!'</p>
+<p>'Well, you've got it all in her own letter,' continued Lord Rotherwood. 'You
+see, they've got a caucus at High Court, and a dinner, and I must go up there on
+Monday; but if you'll keep this dangerous Fly--'</p>
+<p>'I can answer for the pleasure it will give,'</p>
+<p>'Well then, I'll come back for her by the 9th, and you've Victoria's letter,
+haven't you?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, it is very kind of her.'</p>
+<p>'Then I shall expect you to be ready to start with me for the Butterfly's
+Ball. Eh, young ladies, what will you come out as?'</p>
+<p>'Oh daddy, daddy, is it? Has mamma asked them? Oh! it is more delicious than
+anything ever was. Mysie, Mysie, what will you be?'</p>
+<p>'The sly little dormouse crept out of his hole,' quoted Mysie, in a very low,
+happy voice.</p>
+<p>'And I will be a jolly old frog,' shouted Fergus, finding the ordinance of
+silence broken and making the most of it, on the presumption that the whole
+family were invited. However, the tone, rather than the uncomprehended words of
+his mother's answer, 'Nobody asked you, sir,' she said, reduced him to silence,
+and it became understood, through Fly's inquiries, that the invitation included
+Lady Merrifield must make her acceptance doubtful. And besides, the question
+which three were to go was the unspoken drawback to full bliss, and yet the
+delight was exceedingly great in the prospect, great enough to make the contrast
+of gloom in poor Dolores's spirit all the darker, as she sat, left out of
+everything, and she could not now say, with absolute injustice, though she still
+clung to the belief that there was more misfortune than fault in her disgrace.</p>
+<p>She crept away, shivering with unhappiness, to the schoolroom, while the
+others frisked off discussing the wonderful Butterfly's Ball. Lady Merrifield
+looked in on her, and she hardened herself to endure either another probing or
+fresh reproaches, but all she heard was, 'My dear, I cannot talk over this sad
+affair now, as I have to go out. But, if you can, I think you had better write
+to your father about it, and let him understand exactly how it happened. Or, if
+you had rather write than speak in explaining it to me, you can do so, and we
+can consider tomorrow what is to be done about it.'</p>
+<p>Then she went out with her brother and cousin to drive to some Industrial
+schools which Lord Rotherwood wanted to see.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XV.<br>
+THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL.</h3>
+
+<p>Miss Mohun went to the Casement Cottages with Gillian to see what the elder
+Miss Hacket might wish and whether they could be of use to her; the young people
+being left to exercise themselves within call in case the Tree was to be
+continued.</p>
+<p>This proved to be an act of great kindness, for poor Mary Hacket was
+suffering all the distress of an upright and honourable woman at her sister's
+abuse of confidence; and had felt as if Colonel Mohun's summons to his nieces
+was the close of all intimacy with such an unworthy household. Moreover, the
+evenings entertainment could not be given up and Gillian was despatched to
+summon the eager assistants, while Aunt Jane repeated her assurances that Lady
+Merrifield perfectly understood Miss Hacket's ignorance of the doings in
+Constance's room &mdash; listening patiently even when the tender-hearted woman
+began to excuse her sister for having accepted Dolores's lamentations at being
+cut off from her so. called uncle. 'Dear Connie is so romantic, and so easily
+touched,' she said, 'though, of course, it was very wrong of her to suppose that
+Lady Merrifield could do anything harsh or unkind. She is in great grief now,
+poor darling, she feels so bitterly that her friend led her into it by deceiving
+her about the relationship and character.'</p>
+<p>This, Aunt Jane did not think the worst part of the affair, and she said that
+the girl had been brought up to call the man Uncle Alfred, and very possibly did
+not understand that he was only so by courtesy, nor that he was so utterly
+untrustworthy.</p>
+<p>'I thought so,' said Mary Hacket. 'I told Connie that such a child could not
+possibly have been a willing party to his fraud--for fraud, I fear, it was--Miss
+Mohun. Do you think there is any hope of her recovering the sum she advanced.'</p>
+<p>'I am afraid there is not, even if the wretched man is apprehended.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! if she had only told me what she wanted it for!'</p>
+<p>'I hope it was all her own.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Miss Mohun, no doubt you know that two sisters living together must
+accommodate one another a little, and Connie's dress expenses, at her age, are
+necessarily more than mine. But here come the dear children, and we ought to
+dismiss all painful subjects, though I declare I am so nervous I hardly know
+what I am about.'</p>
+<p>However, by Miss Mohun's help, the good lady rose to the occasion, and when
+once busy, the trouble was thrown off, so that no guests would have detected how
+unhappy she had been in the forenoon. Constance soon came down, and confided to
+Gillian a parcel directed to Miss D. Mohun, containing all the notes written to
+her, and all the books lent to her, by the false friend whom she had cast off,
+after which she threw herself into the interests of the present.</p>
+<p>The London ornaments, and the residue of the gifts and bonbons, made the
+Christmas-tree a most memorable one to the G.F.S. mind.</p>
+<p>As to Fly, she fraternized to a great extent with a very small maid, in a
+very long, brown dress, and very thick boots, who did not taste a single bonbon,
+and being asked whether she understood that they were good to eat, replied that
+she was keeping them for 'our Bertie and Minnie;' and, on encouragement,
+launched into such a description of her charges--the blacksmith's small
+children--that Lady Phyllis went back, not without regrets that she could not be
+a little nurse who had done with school at twelve years old, and spent her days
+at the back of a perambulator.</p>
+<p>'Oh, daddy,' she said, 'I do wish you had come down; it was such lovely
+fun--the best tree I ever saw. Why wouldn't you come?'</p>
+<p>'If thirty odd years should pass over that little head of yours, my Lady Fly,
+and you should then meet with Mysie and Val, maybe you will then learn the
+reason why.'</p>
+<p>'We will recollect that in thirty years' time.'</p>
+<p>'When our children go to a Christmas-tree.'</p>
+<p>'And we sit over the fire instead.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! but should we ever not care for a dear, delightful Christmas-tree?'</p>
+<p>'If we had each other instead.'</p>
+<p>'Then we would all go still together!'</p>
+<p>'And tell our little boys and girls all about this one, and the Butterfly's
+Ball!'</p>
+<p>'Perhaps our husbands would want us, and not let us go.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! I don't want a husband. He'd be in the way. We'd send him off to India
+or somewhere, like Aunt Lily's.'</p>
+<p>'Don't, Fly; it is not at all nice to have papa away.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, it would be ten hundred times better if he were at home.'</p>
+<p>Such were the mingled sentiments of the triad, as they went upstairs to bed,
+linked together in their curious fashion.</p>
+<p>Some time later, a bedroom discussion of affairs was held by Lady Merrifield
+and Miss Mohun, who had not had a moment alone together all day, to converse
+upon the two versions of the disaster which the latter had extracted from
+Dolores and Constance, and which fairly agreed, though Constance had been by far
+the most voluble, and somewhat ungenerously violent against her former friend,
+at least so Lady Merrifield remarked.</p>
+<p>'You should take into account the authoress's disappointed vanity.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, poor thing! How he must have nattered her!'</p>
+<p>'Besides, there is the loss of the money, which, I fear, falls as seriously
+on good Miss Hacket as on the goose herself.'</p>
+<p>'Does it, indeed? That must not be. How much is it?'</p>
+<p>'Fifteen pounds; and that foolish Constance fancies that poor Dolores
+assisted in duping her. I really had to defend the girl; though I am just as
+angry myself when I watch her adamantine sullenness.'</p>
+<p>'I am the person to be angry with for having allowed the intimacy, in spite
+of your warnings, Jenny.'</p>
+<p>'You were too innocent to know what girls are made of. Oh yes, you are very
+welcome to have six of your own, but you might have six dozen without knowing
+what a girl brought up at a second-rate boarding-school is capable of, or what
+it is to have had no development of conscience. What shall you do? send her to
+school?'</p>
+<p>'After that recommendation of yours?'</p>
+<p>'I didn't propose a second-rate boarding-school, ma'am. There's a High School
+starting after the holidays at Rockstone. Let me have her, and send her there.'</p>
+<p>'Ada would not like it.'</p>
+<p>'Never mind Ada, I'll settle her. I would keep Dolly well up to her lessons,
+and prevent these friendships.'</p>
+<p>'I suppose you would manage her better than I have been able to do,' said
+Lady Merrifield, reluctantly. 'Yet I should like to try again; I don't want to
+let her go. Is it the old story of duty and love, Jane? Have I failed again
+through negligence and ignorance, and deceived myself by calling weakness and
+blindness love?'</p>
+<p>'You don't fail with your own, Lily. Rotherwood runs about admiring them, and
+saying he never saw a better union of freedom and obedience. It was really a
+treat to see Gillian's ways tonight; she had so much consideration, and managed
+her sisters so well.'</p>
+<p>'Ah, but there's their father! I do so dread spoiling them for him before he
+comes home; but then he is a present influence with us all the time.'</p>
+<p>'They would all clap their hands if I carried Dolly off.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, and that is one reason I don't want to give her up; it seems so sad to
+send Maurice's child away leaving such an impression. One thing I am. thankful
+for, that it will be all over before grandmamma and Bessie Merrifield come.'</p>
+<p>At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a small figure appeared in
+a scarlet robe, bare feet, and dishevelled hair.</p>
+<p>'Mysie, dear child! What's the matter? who is ill?'</p>
+<p>'Oh, please come, mamma, Dolly is choking and crying in such a dreadful way,
+and I can't stop her.'</p>
+<p>'I give up, Lily. This is mother-work,' said Miss Mohun.</p>
+<p>Hurrying upstairs, Lady Merrifield found very distressing sounds issuing from
+Dolores's room; sobs, not loud, but almost strangled into a perfect agony of
+choking down by the resolute instinct, for it was scarcely will.</p>
+<p>'My dear, my dear, don't stop it!' she exclaimed, lifting up the girl in her
+arms. 'Let it out; cry freely; never mind. She will be better soon, Mysie dear.
+Only get me a glass of water, and find a fresh handkerchief. There, there,
+that's right!' as Dolores let herself lean on the kind breast, and conscious
+that the utmost effects of the disturbance had come, allowed her long-drawn sobs
+to come freely, and moaned as they shook her whole frame, though without
+screaming. Her aunt propped her up on her own bosom, parted back her hair,
+kissed her, and saying she was getting better, sent Mysie back to her bed. The
+first words that were gasped out between the rending sobs were, 'Oh! is
+my--he--to be tried?'</p>
+<p>'Most likely not, my dear. He has had full time to get away, and I hope it is
+so.'</p>
+<p>'But wasn't he there? Haven't they got him? Weren't they asking me about him,
+and saying I must be tried for stealing father's cheque?'</p>
+<p>'You were dreaming, my poor child. They have not taken him, and I am quite
+sure you will not be tried anyway.'</p>
+<p>'They said--Aunt Jane and Uncle Reginald and all, and 'that dreadful man that
+came--'</p>
+<p>'Perhaps they said you might have to be examined, but only if he is
+apprehended, and I fully expect that he is out of reach, so that you need not
+frighten yourself about that, my dear.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, don't go!' cried Dolores, as her aunt stirred.</p>
+<p>'No, I'm not going. I was only reaching some water for you. Let me sponge
+your face.'</p>
+<p>To this Dolores submitted gratefully, and then sighed, as if under heavy
+oppression, 'And did he really do it?'</p>
+<p>'I am afraid he must have done so.'</p>
+<p>'I never thought it. Mother always helped him.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, my dear, that made it very hard for you to know what was right to do,
+and this is a most terrible shock for you,' said her aunt, feeling unable to
+utter another reproach just then to one who had been so loaded with blame, and
+she was touched the more when Dolores moaned, 'Mother would have cared so much.'</p>
+<p>She answered with a kiss, was glad to find her hand still held, and forgot
+that it was past eleven o'clock.</p>
+<p>'Please, will it quite ruin father?' asked Dolores, who had not out-grown
+childish confusion about large sums of money.</p>
+<p>'Not exactly, my dear. It was more than he had in the bank, and Uncle Regie
+thinks the bankers will undertake part of the loss if he will let them. It is
+more inconvenient than ruinous.'</p>
+<p>'Ah!' There was a faintness and oppression in the sound which made Lady
+Merrifield think the girl ought not to be left, and before long, sickness came
+on. Nurse Halfpenny had to be called up, and it was one o'clock before there was
+a quiet, comfortable sleep, which satisfied the aunt and nurse that it was safe
+to repair to their own beds again.</p>
+<p>The dreary, undefined self-reproach and vague alarms, intensified by the
+sullen, reserved temper, and culminating in such a shock, alienating the only
+persons she cared for, and filling her with terror for the future, could not but
+have a physical effect, and Dolores was found on the morrow with a bad
+head-ache, and altogether in a state to be kept in bed, with a fire in her room.</p>
+<p>Gillian and Mysie were much impressed by the intelligence of their cousin's
+illness when they came to their mother's room on the way to breakfast, and Mysie
+turned to her sister, saying, 'There Gill, you see she did care, though she
+didn't cry like us. Being ill is more than crying.'</p>
+<p>'Well,' said Gillian, 'it is a good deal more than such things as you and
+Val cry for, Mysie.'</p>
+<p>'It was a trial such as you don't understand, my dears,' said Lady
+Merrifield. 'I don't, of course, excuse much that she did, but she had been used
+to see her mother make every exertion to help the man.'</p>
+<p>'That does make a difference,' said Gillian, 'but she shouldn't have taken
+her father's money. And wasn't it dreadful of Constance to smuggle her letters?
+I'm quite glad Constance gets part of the punishment.'</p>
+<p>'Certainly, that might be just, Gillian, but unfortunately the loss falls
+infinitely more heavily upon Miss Hacket, who cannot afford the loss at all.'</p>
+<p>'Oh dear!' cried Mysie.</p>
+<p>'I'm very sorry,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'And, my dear girls, in all honour and honesty, we must make it up to her.'</p>
+<p>'Can't we save it out of our allowance?' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Sixpence a month from you, a shilling perhaps from Gill, how long would that
+take? No, my dear girls, I am going to put you to a heavy trial.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, mamma, don't!' cried Gillian, seeing what she was driving at. 'Don't
+give up the Butterfly's Ball.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, don't!' implored Mysie, tears starting in her eyes. 'We never saw a
+costume ball, and Fly wishes it so.'</p>
+<p>'And I thought you had promised,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'Cousin Rotherwood assumes that I did; but I did not really accept. I told
+him I could not tell, for you know your Grandmamma Merrifield talked of coming
+here, and I cannot put her off. And now I see that it must be given up.'</p>
+<p>'It need only be calico!' sighed Gillian, sticking pins in and out of the
+pincushion.</p>
+<p>'Fancy dresses even in calico are very expensive. Besides, I could not go to
+a place like Rotherwood without at least two new dresses, and it is not right to put papa to more
+expense.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, mamma! couldn't you? You always do look nicer than any one,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'My dear, I am afraid nothing I have at present would be suitable for a
+General's wife at Lady Rotherwood's party, and we must think of what would be
+fitting both towards our hostess and papa. Don't you see?'</p>
+<p>'Ah! your velvet dress!' sighed Gillian.</p>
+<p>'My poor old faithful state apparel,' smiled Lady Merrifield. 'Poor Gill, you
+did not think again to have to mourn for it, but I don't know that even that
+could have been sufficiently revivified, though it was my cheval de bataille for
+so many years.</p>
+<p>For Lady Merrifield's black velvet of many years' usefulness, had been put on
+for her p.p.c. party at Belfast, when Gillian, in abetting Jasper in roasting
+chestnuts over a paraffin-lamp, had set herself and the tablecloth on fire, and
+had been extinguished with such damages as singed hair, a scar on Jasper's
+hands, and the destruction of her mother's 'front breadth.' There had been such
+relief and thankfulness at its being no worse that the 'state apparel' had not
+been much mourned, especially as the remains made a charming pelisse for
+Primrose; and in the retirement of Silverton, it had not been missed till the
+present occasion.</p>
+<p>'Do gowns cost so very much?' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Indeed they do, my poor Mouse. The lamented cost more than twenty pounds. I
+had been thinking whether I could afford the requisite garments--not quite so
+costly--and thought I might get them for about sixteen, with contrivance; but
+you see I feel it my fault that I let Dolores go and lead Constance to get
+cheated, and I cannot take the money out of what papa gives for household
+expenses and your education, so it must come out of my own personal allowance.
+Don't you see?'</p>
+<p>'Ye--es,' said Gillian, apparently intent on getting a big, black-headed pin
+repeatedly into the same hole, while Mysie was trying with all her might not to
+cry.</p>
+<p>'You are thinking it is very hard that you should suffer for Dolly's faults.
+Perhaps it is, but such things may often happen to you, my dears. Christians
+bear them well for love's sake, you know.'</p>
+<p>'And it is a little my fault,' said Gillian, thoughtfully; 'for it was I that
+let the chestnut fall into the lamp.'</p>
+<p>'I--I don't think I should have minded so much,' said Mysie, almost crying,
+'if we had done it our own selves--and Fly too--for some very poor woman in the
+snow.'</p>
+<p>'I know that very well, Mysie, and this is a much harder trial, as you don't
+get the honour and glory of it; and, besides, you will have to take care to say
+not a word of this reason to Fly or Valetta, or any one else.'</p>
+<p>'Val will be awfully disappointed,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'Poor Val! But I should not have taken her anyway, so that matters the less.
+I should have taken Jasper, for that would have been more convenient than so
+many girls. In fact, I did not mean anybody to have heard of it till I had made
+up my mind, so that there would have been no disappointment; but that naughty
+Cousin Rotherwood could not keep it to himself; and so, my poor maidens, you
+have to bear it with a good grace, and to be treated as my confidential
+friends.'</p>
+<p>Mysie smiled and kissed her mother--Gillian cleared somewhat, but observing,
+'I only wish it wasn't clothes;' tried to dismiss the subject as the gong began
+to sound, but Mysie caught her mother's dress, and said, 'Mayn't I tell Fly, for
+a great secret?'</p>
+<p>'No, my dear, certainly not. Fly is a dear little girl, but we don't know how
+she can keep secrets, and it would never do to let the Rotherwoods know; papa
+and Uncle William would be exceedingly annoyed. And only think of Miss Hacket's
+feelings if it came round. It will be hard enough to get her to take it now.'</p>
+<p>'Perhaps she won't,' flashed into the minds of both girls; but Mysie said
+entreatingly, 'One moment more, mamma, please! What can I say to Fly that will
+be the truth?'</p>
+<p>'Say that I find we cannot go, and that I had never promised,' said Lady
+Merrifield. 'I trust you, my dears.'</p>
+<p>And as she opened the door to hurry down to prayers, the two sisters felt the
+words very precious and inspiriting. Mysie lingered on the step and bravely
+asked Gillian whether her eyes looked like crying--</p>
+<p>'No, only a little twinkly,' answered the elder sister; 'they will be all
+right after prayers if you don't rub them.'</p>
+<p>'No, I won't, said Mysie; &quot;I'll try to mean 'Thy will be done.' For I
+suppose it is His will, though it is mamma's.&quot;</p>
+<p>'I'm glad you thought of that, Mysie,' said Gillian; 'you see it is mamma's
+goodness.' And Gillian added to herself, &quot;dear little Mysie too. If it had
+not been for her, I believe I should have 'grizzled' all prayer-time, and now I
+hope I shall attend instead.&quot;</p>
+<p>When everybody rose up from their knees, Lady Merrifield was glad to see two
+fairly cheerful faces. She tried to lessen the responsibility of the confidants,
+and to get the matter settled by telling Lord Rotherwood at once and publicly
+that she had thought his kind invitation over, and that she found she must not
+accept it. Perhaps she warily took the moment after she had seen the postman
+coming up the drive, for he had only time to say, 'Now, that's too bad, Lily,
+you don't mean it,' and she to answer, 'Yes, in sad earnest, I do,' before the
+letters came in, and the attention of the elders was taken off by the
+distribution.</p>
+<p>But Valetta whispered to Gillian, 'Not going; oh why?'</p>
+<p>'No; never mind, you wouldn't have gone, anyway--hush--' said Gillian,
+beginning, it may be, a little sharply, but then becoming dismayed as Valetta,
+perhaps a little unhinged by the late pleasures, burst forth into such a fit of
+crying as made everybody look up, and her mother tell her to go away if she
+could not behave better. Gillian, understanding a sign of the head as
+permission, led her away, hearing Lord Rotherwood observe,--</p>
+<p>'There, you cruel party!' before again becoming absorbed in his letter.</p>
+<p>'Oh dear!' sighed Fly, turning to Mysie as they rose from table, 'I am so
+sorry! It would have been so nice; and I thought we were safe, as mamma had
+written herself!'</p>
+<p>'Ah! but my mamma hadn't accepted,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>Phyllis seemed to take this as final, and sighed, but Mysie presently
+exclaimed, 'I say! can't we all play at Butterfly's Ball in the hall after
+lessons?'</p>
+<p>'Lessons?' said Fly; 'but it's holiday-time?'</p>
+<p>'Mamma always makes us do a sort of little lesson, even in the holidays, as
+she says we get naughty. But I suppose you need not; and perhaps she will not
+make us now you are here.'</p>
+<p>Colonel Mohun and Lord Rotherwood were going to Darminster to see what was
+the state of the investigation about Mr. Flinders. They set out directly after
+breakfast, and after the feeding of the pets, where Valetta joined them, much
+consoled by the prospect of the extemporary Butterfly's Ball at home, Lady
+Phyllis, with her usual ready adaptability, repaired with the others to the
+schoolroom, where the Psalms and Lessons were read, and a small amount of French
+reading in turn from 'En Quarantaine' followed, with accompaniment of needlework
+or drawing, after which the children were free.</p>
+<p>Aunt Jane was going home to her Sunday school and the Rockstone festivities.
+She came down for her final talk with her sister just in time to perceive the
+folding up of three five-pound notes.</p>
+<p>'Lily,' she said, with instant perception, 'I could beat myself for what I
+told you yesterday.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield laughed. 'The girls are very good about it!' she said. 'Now
+you have found it out, see whether that note will make Miss Hacket swallow it.'</p>
+<p>'Can't be better! But oh. Lily, it is disgusting! Could not I rig up
+something fanciful for the children?'</p>
+<p>'That's not so much the point. 'The General's lady,' as Mrs. Halfpenny would
+say, is bound not to look like 'ane scrub,' as she would be unwelcome to
+Victoria, and what would be William's feelings? I could hardly have accomplished
+it even with this, and the catastrophe settles the matter.'</p>
+<p>'You could not get into my black satin?'</p>
+<p>'No, I thank you, my dear little Brownie,' said Lady Merrifield, elongating
+herself like a girl measuring heights.</p>
+<p>'Ada has a larger assortment, as well as a taller person,' continued Miss
+Jane, 'but then they are rather 'henspeckle,' and they have all made their first
+appearance at Rotherwood.'</p>
+<p>'No, no, thank you, my dear, Jasper would not like the notion--even if there
+was not more of me than of Ada. I have no doubt it is much better for us.'</p>
+<p>'Should you have liked it, Lily?'</p>
+<p>'For once in a way. For Rotherwood's sake, dear old fellow. Yes, I should.'</p>
+<p>'Ah, well! You are a bit of a grande dame yourself. Ada enjoys it, too, or I
+don't think I ever should go there.'</p>
+<p>'Surely Victoria behaves well to you?'</p>
+<p>'Far be it from me to say she is not exemplary in her perfect civility to all
+her husband's relations. Ada thinks her charming; but oh. Lily, you've never
+found out what it is to be a little person in a great person's house, and to
+feel one's self scrupulously made one of the family, because her husband is so
+much attached to all of them. There's nothing spontaneous about it! I dare say
+you would get on better, though You are not a country-town old maid; you would
+have an air of the world and of distinction even if you went in your old grey
+poplin.'</p>
+<p>'Well, I thought better of my lady.'</p>
+<p>'You ought not! She makes great efforts, I am sure, and is a pattern of
+graciousness and cordiality--only that's just what riles one, when one knows one
+is just as well born, and all the rest of it. And then I'm provided with the
+clever men, and the philanthropical folk to talk to. I know it's a great
+compliment, and they are very nice, but I'd ten times rather take my chance
+among them. However, now I've made the grapes sour for you, what do you think
+about Dolores? Will you send her to us?'</p>
+<p>'Not immediately, at any rate, dear Jane. It is very kind in you to wish to
+take her off our hands, but I do want to try her a little longer. I thought she
+seemed to be softening last night.'</p>
+<p>'She was as hard as ever when I went in to wish her good-bye.'</p>
+<p>'I thought she had too much headache for conversation when I went in last; I
+think this is a regular upset from unhappiness and reserve.'</p>
+<p>'Alias temper and deceitfulness.'</p>
+<p>'Something of both. You know the body often suffers when things are not
+thrown out in a wholesome explosion at once, but go simmering on; and I mean to
+let this poor child alone till she is well.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! here comes the pony-carriage. Well, Lily, send her to me if you repent.'</p>
+<p>The sisters came out to find the Butterfly's Ball in full action. Fly had
+become a Butterfly by the help of a battered pair of fairy wings, stretched on
+wire, which were part of the theatrical stock. 'The shy little Dormouse' was
+creeping about on all fours under a fur jacket, with a dilapidated boa for a
+long tail, but her 'blind brother the Mole' had escaped from her, and had been
+transformed into the Frog, by means of a spotted handkerchief over his back, and
+tremendous leap-frog jumps. Primrose, in another pair of fairy wings, was
+personating the Dragon-fly and all his relations, 'green, orange, and blue.'
+Valetta, in perfect content with the present, with a queer pair of ears, and a
+tail made of an old brush, sat up and nibbled as Squirrel. The Grasshopper was
+performing antics which made him not easily distinguishable from the Frog, and
+the Spider was actually descending by a rope from the balusters, while his
+mother, standing somewhat aghast, breathed a hope that 'poor Harlequin's' fall
+was not part of the programme. But she did not interfere, having trust in the
+gymnastics that were studied at school by Jasper, who had been beguiled into the
+game by Fly's fascinations.</p>
+<p>'A far more realistic performance than the Rotherwood Butterfly's Ball is
+likely to be,' said Aunt Jane, aside, as the various guests came up for her
+departing kiss. 'And much more entertaining, if they could only think so.
+Where's Gillian?'</p>
+<p>Gillian appeared on the stairs in her own person at the moment. She said Mrs.
+Halfpenny had called her, and told her that 'Miss Dollars' was crying, and that
+she did not think the child ought to be left alone long to fret herself, but
+Saturday morning needments called away nurse herself, so she had ordered in Miss
+Gillian as her substitute. Gillian was reading to her, and had only come away to
+make her farewells to Aunt Jane.</p>
+<p>'That is right, my dear,' said her mother; 'I will come and sit with her
+after luncheon.'</p>
+<p>For the whole youthful family were to turn out to superintend the
+replantation of the much-enduring fir, which, it was hoped, might survive for
+many another Christmas.</p>
+<p>However, Lady Merrifield could not keep her promise, for a whole party of
+visitors arrived just after the children's dinner was over.</p>
+<p>'And it's old Mrs. Norgood,' sighed Gillian, looking over the balusters, 'and
+she always slays for ages!'</p>
+<p>'One of you young ladies must bide with Miss Dollars,' said Nurse Halfpenny,
+decidedly, 'or we shall have her fretting herself ill again.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, nursie, can't you?' entreated Gillian.</p>
+<p>'Me, Miss Gillian! How can I, when Miss Primrose is going out with the whole
+clamjamfrie, and all the laddies, into the wet plantations? Na--one of ye maun
+keep the lassie company. Ye've had your turn, Miss Gillian, so it should be Miss
+Mysie. It winna hurt ye, bairn, ye that hae been rampaging ower the house all
+the morning.'</p>
+<p>Mysie knew it was her turn, but she also knew that nurse always favoured
+Gillian and snubbed her. She had a devouring longing to be with her dear Fly,
+and a certain sense that she was the preferred one. Must another pleasure be
+sacrificed to that very naughty Dolores, whose misdemeanours had deprived them
+of the visit to Rotherwood. She looked so dismal that Gillian said
+good-naturedly, 'Really, Mysie, I don't think mamma would mind Dolores's being
+left a little while; I must go down to see about the Tree, because mamma gave me
+a message to old Webb, but I'll come back directly. Or perhaps Dolly is going to
+sleep, and does not want any one. Go and see.'</p>
+<p>Mysie on this crept quietly into the room, full of hope of escape, but
+Dolores was anything but asleep. 'Oh, are you come, Mysie? Now you'll go on with
+the story. I tried, but my eyes ache at the back of them, and I can't.'</p>
+<p>Mysie's fate was sealed. She sat down by the fire and took up the book, 'A
+Story for the Schoolroom,' one of the new ones given from the Tree. It was the
+middle of the story, and she did not care about it at first, especially when she
+heard Fly's voice, and all the others laughing and chattering on the stairs.</p>
+<p>'Didn't they care for her absence?' and her voice grew thick, and her eyes
+dim; but Dolores must not think her cross and unwilling, and she made a great
+effort, became interested in the girls there described, and wondered whether
+staying with Fly would have turned her head, after the example of the heroine of
+the book.</p>
+<p>Dolores did not seem to want to talk. In fact, she was clinging to the
+reading, because she could not bear to speak or think of the state of affairs,
+and the story seemed, as it were, to drown her misery. She knew that her aunt
+and cousins were far less severe with her than she expected, but that could only
+be because she was ill. Had not Uncle Reginald turned against her, and
+Constance? It would all come upon her as soon as she came out of her room, and
+she was rather sorry to believe that she should be up and. about to-morrow
+morning.</p>
+<p>Mysie read on till the short, winter day showed the first symptoms of closing
+in. Then Lady Merrifield came up. 'You here, little nurse?' she said. 'Run out
+now and meet the others. I'll stay with Dolly.' Mysie knew by the kiss that her
+mother was pleased with her; but Dolores dreaded the talk with her aunt, and
+made herself sleepy.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XVI<br>
+THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE.</h3>
+
+<p>The two gentlemen who had gone to Darminster brought home tidings that the
+police who had been put on the track of Flinders had telegraphed that it was
+thought that a person answering to his description had embarked at Liverpool in
+an American-bound steamer.</p>
+<p>This idea, though very uncertain, was a relief, at least to all except the
+boys, who thought it a great shame that such a rascal should escape, and wanted
+to know whether the Americans could not be made to give him up. They did not at
+all understand their elders being glad, for the sake of Maurice Mohun and his
+dead wife, that the man should not be publicly convicted, and above all that
+Dolores should not have to bear testimony against him in court, and describe her
+own very doubtful proceedings. Besides, there would have been other things to
+try him for, since he had cheated the publishing house which employed him of all
+he had been able to get into his hands. There was reason to believe that he had
+heavy debts, especially gambling ones, and that he had become desperate since he
+no longer had his step-sister to fall back upon.</p>
+<p>Looking into his room, among other papers, a half-burnt manuscript was found
+upon his grate among some exhausted cinders, as if he had been trying to use the
+unfortunate 'Waif of the Moorland' to eke out his last fire. Moreover, the
+proprietor of the Politician told Colonel Mohun of having remonstrated with him
+on the exceeding weakness and poorness of the 'Constantia' poetry, 'which,' as
+that indignant personage added, 'was evidently done merely as a lure to the
+unfortunate young lady.'</p>
+<p>The fifteen pounds had been accepted in an honourable and ladylike manner by
+the elder sister--but without any overpowering expression of gratitude. No doubt
+it was a bitter pill to her, forced down by necessity, and without guessing that
+it cost the donors anything.</p>
+<p>Dolores's mind was set at rest as to Flinders's evasion before night, and on
+the Sunday morning even Nurse Halfpenny could find out nothing the matter with
+her, so that she was obliged to make her appearance as usual. Uncle Reginald did
+not kiss her, he only gave a cold nod, and said 'Good morning.' Otherwise all
+went on as usual, and it was pleasant to find that Fly was as entirely used as
+they were to learning Collect and hymn, and copying out texts illustrating
+Catechism, and that she was expected to have them ready to repeat them to her
+mother some time in the afternoon. There was something, too, that Mysie could
+not have described, but which she liked, in the manner in which, on this
+morning, Dolores accepted small acts of good nature, such as finding a book for
+her, getting a new pen and helping her to the whereabouts of a Scriptural
+reference. It seemed for the first time as if she liked to receive a kindness,
+and her 'thank you' really had a sound of thanks, instead of being much more
+like 'I wish you would not.' Mysie felt really encouraged to be kind, and when,
+on setting forth to church, everybody was crowding round trying to walk with
+Fly, and Dolores was going along lonely and deserted, Mysie resigned her chance
+of one side of the favourite Phyllis, and dropped back to give her company to
+the solitary one. To her surprise and gratification, Dolores took hold of her
+hand, and listened quite willingly to her chatter about the schemes for the
+fortnight that Fly was to be left with them. Presently Constance was seen going
+markedly by the other gate of the churchyard, quite out of her usual way, and
+not even looking towards them.</p>
+<p>It was the last day of the old year, and, in the midst of the Christmas joy,
+there were allusions to it in the services and hymns. Something in the tune of
+'Days and moments quickly flying,' touched some chord in Dolores's spirit, and
+set her off crying. She would have done anything to stop it, but there was no
+helping it, great round splashes came down, and the more she was afraid of being
+noticed, the worse the choking grew. At last, the very worst person--she
+thought--to take notice. Uncle Reginald, did so, and, under cover of a general
+rising, said sternly, 'Stop that, or go out.'</p>
+<p>Stop that! Much did the colonel know about a girl's tears, or how she would
+have given anything to check them. But here was Aunt Lily edging down to her,
+taking her by the hand, leading her out, she did not know how, stopping all who
+would have come after them with help--then pausing a little in the open, frosty
+air.</p>
+<p>'Oh, Aunt Lily! I am very sorry!'</p>
+<p>'Never mind that, my dear. Do you feel poorly?'</p>
+<p>'Oh no; I'm quite well--only--'</p>
+<p>'Only overcome--I don't wonder--my dear--can you walk quietly home with me?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, please.'</p>
+<p>Nothing was said till they had passed the 'idle corner,' where men and
+half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and stared at
+the lady making her exit, till they were through the short street with shop
+windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking, and had come into the quiet
+lane leading to the paddock. Then Lady Merrifield laid her hand on the girl's
+shoulder very gently, and said, 'It was too much for you, my dear, you are not
+quite strong yet.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes; I'm well. Only I am so very--very miserable,' and the gust of sobs
+and tears rushed on her again.</p>
+<p>'Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!'</p>
+<p>'You can't! I've done it! And--and they'll all be against me always--Uncle
+Regie and all!'</p>
+<p>'Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I'm sure he will forgive you when he
+sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a fresh start.
+I am sure you were deceived.'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Dolores. 'I never could have thought he--Uncle Alfred--was such a
+dreadful man'</p>
+<p>'I expect that since he lost your mother's influence and help he may have
+sunk lower than when you had seen him before. Did your father give you any
+directions about him?'</p>
+<p>'No. Father hated to hear of him' and never spoke about him if he could help
+it; and we thought it was all Mohun high notions because he wasn't quite a
+gentleman.'</p>
+<p>'I see. Indeed, my dear, though you have done very wrong, I have already felt
+that there was great excuse for you in trying to keep up intercourse with a
+person who belonged to your mother. I wish you had told me, but I suppose you
+were afraid.'</p>
+<p>'Yes' said Dolores. 'And I thought you were sure to be cross and harsh,' she
+muttered. And then suddenly looking up, 'Oh, Aunt Lily! everybody is angry but
+you--you and Mysie! Please go on being kind! I believe you've been good to me
+always.'</p>
+<p>'My dear, I've tried,' said Lady Merrifield, with fears in her brown eyes and
+a choke in her voice caressing the hand that had been put into hers. 'I have
+wished very much to make you happy with us; but the ways of a large family must
+be a trial to a new-comer.'</p>
+<p>Dolores raised her face for a kiss, and said, 'I see it now. But I did not
+like everything always, and I thought aunts were sure to be unkind.'</p>
+<p>'That was very hard. And why?'</p>
+<p>She was heard to mutter something about aunts in books always being cross.</p>
+<p>'Ah! my dear! I suppose there are some unkind aunts, but I am sure there are
+a great many more who wish with all their hearts to make happy homes for their
+nieces. I hope now we may do so. I have more hope than ever I had, and so I
+shall write to your father.'</p>
+<p>'And please--please,' cried Dolores, 'don't let Uncle Regie write him a very
+dreadful letter! I know he will.'</p>
+<p>'I think you can prevent that best yourself, by telling Uncle Regie how sorry
+you are. He was specially grieved because he thinks you told him two direct
+falsehoods.'</p>
+<p>'Oh! I didn't think they were that,' said Dolores, 'for it was true that
+father did not leave anything with me for Uncle Alfred. And I did not know
+whether it was me whom he saw at Darminster. I did tell you one once, Aunt Lily,
+when you asked if I gave Constance a note. At least, she gave it to me, and not
+I to her. Indeed, I don't tell falsehoods, Aunt Lily--I mean I never did at
+home, but Constance said everybody said those sort of things at school, and that
+one was driven to it when one was---'</p>
+<p>'Was what, my dear?'</p>
+<p>'Tyrannized over,' Dolores got out.</p>
+<p>'Ah! Dolly, I am afraid Constance was no real friend. It was a great mistake
+to think her like Miss Hacket.'</p>
+<p>'And now she has sent back all my notes, and won't look at me or speak to
+me,' and Dolores's tears began afresh.</p>
+<p>'It is very ungenerous of her, but very likely she will be very sorry to have
+done so when her first anger is over, and she understands that you were quite as
+much deceived as she was.'</p>
+<p>'But I shall never care for her again. It is not like Mysie, who never
+stopped being kind all the time--nor Gillian either. I shall cut her next time!'</p>
+<p>'You should remember that she has something to forgive. I don't want you to
+be intimate with her but I think it would be better if, instead of quarrelling
+openly, you wrote a note to say that you were deceived and that you are very
+sorry for what you brought on her.'</p>
+<p>'I should not have gone on with it but for her and Her stupid poems!'</p>
+<p>'Can you bear to tell me how it all was, my dear? I do not half understand
+it.'</p>
+<p>And on the way home, and in Lady Merrifield's own room Dolores found it a
+relief to pour forth an explanation of the whole affair, beginning with that
+meeting with Mr. Flinders at Exeter, of which no one had heard, and going on to
+her indignation at the inspection of her letters; and how Constance had
+undertaken to conduct her correspondence, 'and that made it seem as if she must
+write to some one,'--so she wrote to Uncle Alfred. And then Constance, becoming
+excited at the prospect of a literary connection, all the rest followed. It was
+a great relief to have told it all, and Lady Merrifield was glad to see that the
+sense of deceit was what weighed most heavily upon her niece, and seemed to have
+depressed her all along. Indeed, the aunt came to the conclusion that though
+Dolores alone might still have been sullen, morose and disagreeable, perhaps
+very reserved, she never would have kept up the systematic deceit but for
+Constance. The errors, regarded as sin, weighed on Lady Merrifield's mind, but
+she judged it wiser not to press that thought on an unprepared spirit, trusting
+that just as Dolores had wakened to the sense of the human love that surrounded
+her, hitherto disbelieved and disregarded, so she might yet awake to the feeling
+of the Divine love and her offence against it.</p>
+<p>The afternoon was tolerably free, for the gentlemen, including the elder
+boys, walked to evensong at a neighbouring church noted for its musical
+services, and Lady Merrifield, as she said, 'lashed herself up' to go with
+Gillian, carry back the remnant of the unhappy 'Waif,' and 'have it out' with
+Constance, who would, she feared, never otherwise understand the measure of her
+own delinquency, and from whom, perhaps, evidence might be extracted which would
+palliate the poor child's offence in the eyes of Colonel Mohun. Both the Hacket
+sisters looked terribly frightened when she appeared, and the elder one made an
+excuse for getting her outside the door to beseech her to be careful, dear
+Constance was so nervous and so dreadfully upset by all she had undergone. Lady
+Merrifield was not the least nervous of the two, and she felt additionally
+displeased with Constance for not having said one word of commiseration when her
+sister had inquired for Dolores. On returning to the drawing-room, Lady
+Merrifield found the young lady standing by the window, playing with the blind,
+and looking as if she wanted to make her escape.</p>
+<p>'I do not know whether you will be sorry or glad to see this,' said Lady
+Merrifield, producing a half-burnt roll of paper. 'It was found in Mr.
+Flinders's grate, and my brother thought you would be glad that it should not
+get into strange hands.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, it was cruel! it was base! What a wicked man he is!' cried Constance,
+with hot tears, as she beheld the mutilated condition of her poor 'Waif.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, it was a most unfortunate thing that you. should have run into
+intercourse with such an utterly untrustworthy person.'</p>
+<p>'I was grossly deceived, Lady Merrifield!' said Constance, clasping her hands
+somewhat theatrically.</p>
+<p>'I shall never believe in any one again!'</p>
+<p>'Not without better grounds, I hope,' was the answer. 'Your poor little
+friend is terribly broken down by all this.'</p>
+<p>'Don't call her my friend. Lady Merrifield. She has used me shamefully! What
+business had she to tell me he was her uncle when he was no such thing?'</p>
+<p>'She had been always used to call him so.'</p>
+<p>'Don't tell me, Lady Merrifield,' said Constance, who, after her first
+fright, was working herself into a passion. 'You don't know what a little viper
+you have been warming, nor what things she has been continually saying of you.
+She told me--'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield held up her hand with authority.</p>
+<p>'Stay, Constance. Do you think it is generous in you to tell me this?'</p>
+<p>'I am sure you ought to know.'</p>
+<p>'Then why did you encourage her?'</p>
+<p>'I pitied her--I believed her--I never thought she would have led me into
+this!'</p>
+<p>'How did she lead you?'</p>
+<p>'Always talking about her precious, persecuted uncle. I believe she was in
+league with him all the time!'</p>
+<p>'That is nonsense,' said Lady Merrifield, 'as you must see if you reflect a
+little. Dolores was too young to have been told this man's real character; she
+only knew that her mother, who had spent her childhood with him, treated him as
+a brother, and did all she could for him. Dolores did very wrongly and foolishly
+in keeping up a connection with him unknown to me; but I cannot help feeling
+there was great excuse for her, and she was quite as much deceived as you were.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, of course, you stand by your own niece, Lady Merrifield. If you knew
+what horrid things she said about your pride and unkindness, as she called it,
+you would not think she deserved it.'</p>
+<p>'Nay, that is exactly what does most excuse her in my eyes. Her fancying such
+things of me was what did prevent her from confiding in me.'</p>
+<p>Constance had believed herself romantic, but the Christian chivalry of Lady
+Merrifield's nature was something quite beyond her. She muttered something about
+Dolores not deserving, which made her visitor really angry, and say, 'We had
+better not talk of deserts. Dolores is a mere child--a mother-less child, who
+had been a good deal left to herself for many months. I let her come to you
+because she seemed shy and unhappy with us, and I did not like to deny her the
+one pleasure she seemed to care for. I knew what an excellent person and
+thorough lady your sister is, and I thought I could perfectly trust her with
+you. I little thought you would have encouraged her in concealment, and--I must
+say--deceit, and thus made me fail in the trust her father reposed in me.'</p>
+<p>'I would never have done it,' Constance sobbed, 'but for what she said about
+you. Lady Merrifield!'</p>
+<p>'Well, and even if I am such a hard, severe person, does that make it
+honourable or right to help the child I trusted to you to carry on this
+underhand correspondence?'</p>
+<p>Constance hung her head. Her sister had said the same to her, but she still
+felt herself the most injured party, and thought it very hard that she should be
+so severely blamed for what the girls at her school treated so lightly. She
+said, 'I am very sorry. Lady Merrifield,' but it was not exactly the tone of
+repentance, and it ended with: 'If it had not been for her, I should never have
+done it.'</p>
+<p>'I suppose not, for there would have been no temptation. I was in hopes that
+you would have shown some kindlier and more generous feeling towards the younger
+girl, who could not have gone so far wrong without your assistance, and who
+feels your treatment of her very bitterly. But to find you incapable of
+understanding what you have done, makes me all the more glad that the
+friendship--if friendship it can be called--is broken off between you. Good-bye.
+I think when you are older and wiser, you will be very sorry to recollect the
+doings of the last few months.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield walked away, and found on her return that Dolores had
+succeeded in writing to her father, and was so utterly tired out by the feelings
+it had cost her that she was only fit to lie on the sofa and sleep.</p>
+<p>Gillian was, of course, not seen till she came home from evening service.</p>
+<p>'Oh, mamma,' she said, 'what did you do to Constance?'</p>
+<p>'Why?'</p>
+<p>'Well, I heard you shut the front door. And presently after there came such a
+noise through the wall that all the girls pricked up their ears, and Miss Hacket
+jumped up in a fright. If it had been Val, one would have called it a naughty
+child roaring.'</p>
+<p>'What! did I send her into hysterics?'</p>
+<p>'I suppose, as she is grown up, it must have the fine name, but it wasn't a
+bit like poor Dolly's choking. I am sure she did it to make her sister come!
+Well, of course, Miss Hacket went away, and I did the best I could, but what
+could one do with all these screeches and bellowings breaking out?'</p>
+<p>'For shame. Gill!'</p>
+<p>'I can't help it, mamma. If you had only seen their faces when the uproar
+came in a fresh gust! How they whispered, and some looked awe-struck. I thought
+I had better get rid of them, and come home myself; but Miss Hacket met me, and
+implored me to stay, and I was weak-minded enough to do so. I wish I hadn't, for
+it was only to be provoked past bearing. That horrid girl has poisoned even Miss
+Hacket's mind, and she thinks you have been hard on her darling. You did not
+know how nervous and timid dear Connie is!'</p>
+<p>'Well, Gill, I confess she made me very angry, and I told her what I thought
+of her.'</p>
+<p>'And that she didn't choose to hear!'</p>
+<p>'Did you see her again?'</p>
+<p>'No, I am thankful to say, I did not. But Miss Hacket would go on all
+tea-time, explaining and explaining for me to tell you how dear Connie is so
+affectionate and so easily led, and how Dolores came over her with persuasions,
+and deceived her. I declare I never liked Dolly so well before. At any rate, she
+doesn't make professions, and not a bit more fuss than she can help. And there
+was Miss Hacket getting brandy cherries and strong coffee, and I don't know what
+all, because dear Connie was so overcome, and dear Lady Merrifield was quite
+under a mistake, and so deceived by Dolores. I told Miss Hacket you were never
+under a mistake nor deceived.'</p>
+<p>'You didn't, Gillian!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, I did, and the stupid woman only wanted to kiss me (but I wouldn't let
+her) and said I was very right to stand up for my dear mamma. As if that had
+anything to do with it! What are you laughing at, mamma? Why, Uncle Regie is
+laughing, and Cousin Rotherwood! What is it?'</p>
+<p>'At the two partisans who never stand up for their own families,' said Uncle
+Regie.</p>
+<p>'But it's true!' cried Gillian.</p>
+<p>'What! that I am never mistaken nor deceived?' said Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'Except when you took Miss Constance for a sensible woman, eh?' said her
+brother.</p>
+<p>'That I never did! But I did take her for a moderately honourable one.'</p>
+<p>'Well, that was a mistake,' owned Gillian. 'And Miss Hacket is as bad!
+There's no gratitude---'</p>
+<p>'Hush!' broke in her mother; and Gillian stopped abashed, while Lady
+Merrifield continued, 'I won't have Miss Hacket abused. She is only blinded by
+sisterly affection.'</p>
+<p>'I don't think I can go there again,' said Gillian, 'after what she said
+about you.'</p>
+<p>'Nonsense!' said her mother. 'Don't be as bad as Constance in trying to make
+me angry by telling me all poor Dolly's grumblings.'</p>
+<p>'Follow your mother's example, Gillian,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and, if
+possible, never hear, certainly never attend to, what any one says of you behind
+your back.'</p>
+<p>'Is said to have said of you, you should add, Rotherwood,' put in the
+colonel. 'It is a decree worse than eavesdropping.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Regie!' exclaimed his sister.</p>
+<p>'Well, not perhaps for your own honour and conscience, but the keyhole is a
+more trustworthy medium than the reporter.'</p>
+<p>'That's a strong way of stating it, but, at any rate, the keyhole has no
+temper nor imagination, or prejudice of its own,' said Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'No, and as far as it goes, it enables you to judge of the frame in which the
+words, even if correctly reported, were spoken,' added Colonel Mohun.</p>
+<p>'The moral of which is,' said Lord Rotherwood, drolly, 'that Gillian is not
+to take notice of anyone's observations upon her unless she has heard them
+through the keyhole.'</p>
+<p>'And so one would never hear them at all.'</p>
+<p>'Q. E. D.,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'And now, Lily, do you. ever sing the two
+evening-hymns. Ken and Keble, now, as the family used to do on Sundays at the
+Old Court, long ere the days of 'Hymns Ancient and Modern'?</p>
+<p>'Don't we?' said Lady Merrifield. 'Only all our best voices will be singing
+it at Rawul Pindee!'</p>
+<p>And, as she struck a note on the piano, all the younger people still up,
+Mysie, Phyllis, Wilfred and Valetta, gathered round from the outer room to join
+in their evening Sunday delight. Fly put her hand into her father's and
+whispered, 'You told me about it, daddy.' He began to sing, but his voice
+thickened as he missed the tones once associated with it. And Lady Merrifield,
+too, nearly broke down as with all her heart she sang, hopefully,</p>
+<p>"Now Lord, the gracious work begin."</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XVII.<br>
+THE STONE MELTING.</h3>
+
+<p>It was with a strange feeling that Dolores woke on the New Year's morning,
+that something was very sad and strange, and yet that there was a sense of
+relief. For one thing, that terrible confession to her father was written, and
+was no longer a weight hanging over her. And though his answer was still to
+come, that was months away. There was Uncle Regie greatly displeased with her;
+there was Constance treating her as a traitor; there was the mischief done, and
+yet something hard and heavy was gone? Something sweet and precious had come in
+on her! Surely it was, that now she knew and felt that she could trust in Aunt
+Lilias--yes, and in Mysie. She got up, quite looking forward to meeting those
+gentle, brown eyes of her aunt's, that she seemed never before to have looked
+into, and to feeling the sweet, motherly kiss which had so mud, more meaning in
+it now, as almost to make up for Uncle Reginald's estrangement.</p>
+<p>She even anticipated gladly those ten minutes alone with her aunt, which she
+used to dislike so much, hoping that the holiday-time would not hinder them.
+Really wishing to please her aunt, she had learnt her portion perfectly, and
+Lady Merrifield showed that she appreciated the effort, though still it was more
+a lesson than a reality.</p>
+<p>'My dear!' she said, 'I am afraid this is another blow for you--it came this
+morning.'</p>
+<p>It was the account from Professor Muhlwasser's German publisher, amounting to
+a few shillings more than six pounds. And an announcement that the books were on
+the way.</p>
+<p>'Oh,' cried Dolores, 'I thought he was dead! He told me so! Uncle Alfred, I
+mean! And it was only to get the money! How could he be so wicked?'</p>
+<p>'I am afraid that was all he cared for.'</p>
+<p>'And what shall I do. Aunt Lily? Will you pay it, please, and take all my
+allowance till it is made up?'</p>
+<p>'I think it will be more comfortable for you if I do something of that sort,
+though I don't think you should go entirely without money. You have a pound a
+quarter. I was going to give you yours at once.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, take it--pray--'</p>
+<p>'Suppose I give you five shillings, instead of twenty. I do not think it well
+to leave you with nothing for a year and a half, and this is nearly what Mysie
+has.'</p>
+<p>'A shilling a month--very well. I wish I could pay it all at once!'</p>
+<p>'No doubt you do, my dear, but this will keep you in mind for a long time
+what a dangerous thing you did in giving away money you had no right to dispose
+of.'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' said Dolores. 'Mother earned money for him. I know she never took
+father's without asking him; but I couldn't earn, and couldn't ask.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield kissed her, for very joy, to hear no sullenness in her tone;
+and then all went to church together on the New Year's day that was to be the
+beginning of better things. Lord Rotherwood had just time to go before meeting
+the train which was to take him to High Court, leaving his Fly too much used to
+his absences to be distressed about them, and, in fact, somewhat crazy about a
+notion which Gillian had started that morning, of getting up a little play to
+surprise him when he came back for Twelfth Day, as he promised to do.</p>
+<p>Mamma declared that if it was in French, and the words were learnt every
+morning before half-past eleven, it should supersede all other lessons; but such
+was the hatred of the whole boy faction to French, that they declared they had
+rather do rational sensible lessons twice over than learn such rot, and this
+carried the day. The drama proposed was that one in an old number of 'Aunt
+Judy,' where the village mayor is persuaded by the drummer to fine the girls for
+wearing lace caps. The French original existed in the house, and Fly started the
+idea that the male performers should speak English and the female French; but
+this was laughed down.</p>
+<p>In the midst Uncle Reginald came to the door and called, 'Lilias, can you
+speak to me a minute?'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield went out into the hall to him.</p>
+<p>'Here's a policeman come over, Lily. They have got the fellow!'</p>
+<p>'Flinders?'</p>
+<p>'Yes; arrested him on board a steamer at Bristol.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, I wish they had let it alone!'</p>
+<p>'So do I. They are bringing him back. The Darminster City bench sits to-day,
+and they want that unlucky child over there to make her deposition for his
+committal.'</p>
+<p>'Can't they commit him without her?'</p>
+<p>'Not for the forgery. The bank people are bent on prosecuting for that, and
+we can't stop them. I suppose she can be depended on?'</p>
+<p>'Reginald, don't! I told you the deceit was an unnatural growth from
+Constance's pseudo sentiment.'</p>
+<p>'Well, get her ready to come with me,' said the colonel, with a gesture of
+doubt; 'we must catch the 12.50. The superintendent brought a fly.'</p>
+<p>'You will frighten her out of her senses. I can't let her go alone with you
+in this mood.'</p>
+<p>'As you please, if you choose to knock yourself up. I'll tell the
+superintendent, and walk on to the station. You've not a moment to lose, so
+don't let her stand dawdling and crying.'</p>
+<p>It was a hard task for Lady Merrifield. She called Dolores, whom Mysie was
+inviting to be one of the village maidens, and bade her put on her things
+quickly. She ordered cold meat and wine into the dining-room, called Gillian
+into her room, and explained while dressing, and bade her keep the others away.
+Then, meeting Dolores on the stairs took her into the dining-room and made her
+swallow some cold beef, and drink some sherry, before telling her that the
+magistrates at Darminster wanted to ask her some questions. Dolores looked pale
+and frightened, and exclaimed,</p>
+<p>'Oh, but he has got away!'</p>
+<p>'My dear, I am grieved to say that he has not.'</p>
+<p>Dolores understood, and submitted more quietly and resignedly than her aunt
+had feared. She was a barrister's daughter, and once or twice her father had
+taken her and her mother part of the way on circuit with him, and she had been
+in court, so that she had known from the first that if her uncle were arrested
+there was no choice but that she must speak out. So she only trembled very much
+and said--</p>
+<p>'Aunt Lily, are you going with me?'</p>
+<p>'Indeed I am, my poor child. Uncle Regie is gone on.'</p>
+<p>No more was spoken then, but Dolores put her cold hand into her aunt's muff.</p>
+<p>Gillian kept all the flock prisoned in the schoolroom. Wilfred, Val, and
+Fergus rushed to the window, and were greatly disappointed not to see a
+policeman on the box, 'taking Dolores to be tried'flindersgus declared, and
+Wilfred insisted, just because Gillian and Mysie contradicted it with all their
+might. He continued to repeat it with variations and exaggerations, until Jasper
+heard him, and declared that he should have a thorough good licking if he said
+so again, administering a cuff by way of earnest. Wilfred howled, and was
+ordered not to be such an ape, and Fly looked on in wonder at the domestic
+discipline.</p>
+<p>The superintendent had, in fact, walked on with Uncle Reginald, and Dolores
+saw nothing of him, but was put into an empty first-class carriage, into which
+her aunt followed her, but her uncle, observing, 'You know how to manage her,
+Lily,' betook himself to a smoking-carriage, and left them to themselves.</p>
+<p>Dolores was never a very talking girl, and the habit of silence had grown
+upon her. She leant against her aunt and she put her arm round her, and did not
+attempt to say anything till she asked,</p>
+<p>'Will he be there?'</p>
+<p>'I don't know, I am afraid he will. It is very sad for you, my poor Dolly;
+but we must recollect that, after all, it may be much better for him to be
+stopped now than to go on and get worse and worse in some strange country.'</p>
+<p>Dolores did not ask what she was to do, she knew enough already about trials
+to understand that she was only to answer questions, and she presently said,</p>
+<p>'This can't be his trial. There are no assizes now.'</p>
+<p>'No, this is only for the committal. It will very soon be over, if you will
+only answer quietly and steadily. If you do so, I think Uncle Regie will be
+pleased, and tell your father! I am sure I shall!'</p>
+<p>Dolores pressed up closer and laid her cheek against the soft sealskin. In
+the midst of her trouble there was a strange wonder in her. Could this be really
+the aunt whom she had thought so cruel, unjust, and tyrannical, and from whom
+she had so carefully hidden her feelings? Nobody got into the carriage, and just
+before reaching Darminster, Lady Merrifield made a great effort over her own
+shyness and said,</p>
+<p>'Now, Dolly, we will pray a little prayer that you may be a faithful witness,
+and that God may turn it, all to good for your poor uncle.'</p>
+<p>Dolores was very much surprised, and did not know whether she liked it or
+not, but she saw her aunt's closed eyes and uplifted hands, and she tried to
+follow the example.</p>
+<p>The train stopped, and her uncle came to the door, looking inquiringly at
+her.</p>
+<p>'She will be good and brave,' said her aunt; and quickly passing across the
+platform, Dolores found herself beside her aunt, with her uncle opposite in
+another fly.</p>
+<p>Things had been arranged for them considerately, and after they came to the
+Guildhall, where the city magistrates were sitting, Colonel Mohun went at once
+into court; the others were taken to a little room, and waited there a few
+minutes before Colonel Mohun came to call for his niece. It was a long room,
+with a rail at one end, and Dolores knew, with a strange thrill which made her
+shudder, that Mr. Flinders was there, but she could not bear to look at him, and
+only squeezed hard at the hand of her aunt, who asked, in a somewhat shaky
+voice, if she might come with her niece.</p>
+<p>'Certainly, certainly. Lady Merrifield,' said one of the magistrates, and
+chairs were set both for her and Colonel Mohun.</p>
+<p>'You are Miss Mohun, I think--may I ask your Christian name in full?' And
+then she had to spell it, and likewise tell her exact age, after which she was
+put on oath--as she knew enough of trials to expect.</p>
+<p>'Are you residing with Lady Merrifield?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'But your father is living?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, but he is in the Fiji Islands.'</p>
+<p>'Will you favour us with his exact name?'</p>
+<p>'Maurice Devereux Mohun.'</p>
+<p>'When did he leave England?'</p>
+<p>'The fifth of last September.'</p>
+<p>'Did he leave any money with you?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'In what form?'</p>
+<p>'A cheque on W----'s Bank.</p>
+<p>'To bearer or order?'</p>
+<p>'To order.'</p>
+<p>'What was the date?'</p>
+<p>'I think it was the 31st of August, but I am not sure.'</p>
+<p>'For how much?'</p>
+<p>'For seven pounds.'</p>
+<p>'When did you part with it?'</p>
+<p>'On the Friday before Christmas Day.'</p>
+<p>'Did you do anything to it first?'</p>
+<p>'I wrote my name on the back.'</p>
+<p>'What did you do with it.'</p>
+<p>'I sent it to--' her voice became a little hoarse, but she brought out the
+words--'to Mr. Flinders.'</p>
+<p>'Is this the same?'</p>
+<p>'Yes--only some one has put 'ty' to the 'seven' in writing, and 0 to the
+figure 7.'</p>
+<p>'Can you swear to the rest as your father's writing and your own?'</p>
+<p>The evidence of the banker's clerk as to the cashing of the cheque had been
+already taken, and the magistrate said, 'Thank you. Miss Mohun, I think the case
+is complete, and we need not trouble you any more.'</p>
+<p>But the prisoner's voice made Dolores start and shudder again, as he said,</p>
+<p>'I beg your pardon, sir, but you have not asked the young lady'--there was a
+sort of sneer in his voice--'how she sent this draft.'</p>
+<p>'Did not you send it direct by the post?' demanded the magistrate.</p>
+<p>'No; I gave it to--' Again she paused, and the words 'Gave it to--?' were
+authoritatively repeated, so that she had no choice.</p>
+<p>'I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send.'</p>
+<p>'You will observe, sir,' said Flinders, in a somewhat insolent tone, 'that
+the evidence which the witness has been so ready to adduce is incomplete. There
+is another link between her hands and mine.'</p>
+<p>'You may reserve that point for your defence on your trial,' rejoined the
+magistrate. 'There is quite sufficient evidence for your committal.'</p>
+<p>There was already a movement to let Dolores be taken away by her uncle and
+aunt, so as to spare her from any reproach or impertinence that Flinders might
+launch at her. She was like some one moving in a dream, glad that her aunt
+should hold her hand as if she were a little child, saying, as they came out
+into the street, 'Very clearly and steadily done, Dolly! Wasn't it, Uncle
+Regie?'</p>
+<p>'Yes,' he said, absently. 'We must look out, or we shan't catch the 4.50
+train.'</p>
+<p>He almost threw them into a cab, and made the driver go his quickest, so
+that, after all, they had full ten minutes to spare. It made Dolores sick at
+heart to go near the waiting and refreshment-rooms where she and Constance had
+spent all that time with Flinders; but she could not bear to say so before her
+uncle, and he was bent on getting some food for Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'Not soup, Regie; there might not be time to swallow it. A glass of milk for
+us each, please; we can drink that at once, and anything solid that we can take
+with us. I am sure your mouth must be dry, my dear.'</p>
+<p>Very dry it was, and Dolores gladly swallowed the milk, and found, when
+seated in the train, that she was really hungry enough to eat her full share of
+the sandwiches and buns which the colonel had brought in with him; and then she
+sat resting against her aunt, closed her eyes, and half dozed in the rattle of
+the train, not moving in the pause at the stations, but quite conscious that
+Colonel Mohun said, 'Not a spark of feeling for anybody, not even for that man!
+As hard as a stone!'</p>
+<p>'For shame, Regie!' said her aunt. 'How angry you would have been if she had
+made a scene.'</p>
+<p>'I should have liked her better.'</p>
+<p>'No, you wouldn't, when you come to understand. There's stuff in her, and
+depth too.'</p>
+<p>'Aye, she's deep enough.'</p>
+<p>'Poor child!' said Lady Merrifield, tenderly. And then the train went on, and
+the noise drowned the voices, so that Dolores only partly heard, 'You will see
+how she will rise,' and the answer, 'You may be right; I hope so. But I can't
+get over deliberate deceit.'</p>
+<p>He settled himself in his corner, and Lady Merrifield durst not move nor
+raise her voice lest she should break what seemed such deep slumber, but which
+really was half torpor, half a dull dismay, holding fast eyes, lips, and limbs,
+and which really became sleep, so that Dolores did not hear the next bit of
+conversation during the ensuing halt.</p>
+<p>'I say, Lily, I did not like the fellow's last question. He means to give
+trouble about it.'</p>
+<p>'I was sorry the other name was brought in, but it must have come sooner or
+later.'</p>
+<p>'That's true; but if she can't swear to the figures on the draft, ten to one
+that the fellow will get off.'</p>
+<p>'You don't doubt--'</p>
+<p>'No, no; but there's the chance for the defence, and he was sharp enough to
+see it.'</p>
+<p>'There is nothing to be said or done about it, of course.'</p>
+<p>'Of course not. There's nothing for it but to let it alone.'</p>
+<p>They went on again, and when the train reached Silverton, Dolly was dreaming
+that her father had come, and that he said Uncle Alfred should be hanged unless
+she found the money for Professor Muhlwasser. She even looked about for him, and
+said, 'Where's father?' when she was wakened to get out.</p>
+<p>Gillian came up to her mother's room to hear what had happened, and to give
+an account of the day, which had gone off prosperously by Harry's help. He had
+kept excellent order at dinner, and 'there's something about Fly which makes
+even Wilfred be mannerly before her.' And then they had gone out and had made
+Fly free of the Thorn Fortress.</p>
+<p>'My dear, that must have been terribly damp and cold at this time of year.'</p>
+<p>'I thought of that, mamma, and so we didn't sit down, and made it a guerrilla
+war; only Fergus couldn't understand the difference between guerrillas and
+gorillas, and would thump upon himself and roar when they were in ambush.'</p>
+<p>'Rather awkward for the ambush!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Wilfred said he was a traitor, and tied him to a tree, and then Fly
+found him crying, and would have let him out; but she couldn't get the knots
+undone; and what do you think? She made Wilfred cut the string himself with his
+own knife! I never knew such a girl for making every one do as she pleases.
+Then, when it got dark, we came in, and had a sort of a kind of a rehearsal,
+only that nobody knew any of the parts, or what each was to be.'</p>
+<p>'A sort of a kind, indeed, it must have been!'</p>
+<p>'But we think the play will be lovely! You can't think how nice Fly was. You
+know we settled for her to be Annette, the dear, funny, naughty girl, but as
+soon as she saw that Val wanted the part, she said she didn't care, and gave it
+up directly, and I don't think we ought to let her, and Hal thinks so too; and
+all the boys are very angry, and say Val will make a horrid mess of it. Then
+Mysie wanted to give up the good girl to Fly, and only be one of the chorus, but
+Fly says she had rather be one of the chorus ones herself than that. So we
+settled that you should fix the parts, and we would abide by your choice.'</p>
+<p>'I hope there was no quarrelling.'</p>
+<p>'N--no; only a little falling upon Val by the boys, and Fly put a stop to
+that. Oh, mamma, if it were only possible to turn Dolly into Fly! I can't help
+saying it, we seemed to get on so much better just because we hadn't poor Dolly
+to make a deadweight, and tempt the boys to be tiresome: while Fly made
+everything go off well. I can't describe it, she didn't in the least mean to
+keep order or interfere, but somehow squabbles seem to die away before her, and
+nobody wants to be troublesome.'</p>
+<p>'Dear little thing! It is a very sweet disposition. But, Gill, I do believe
+that we shall see poor Dolly take a turn now!'</p>
+<p>'Well! having quarrelled with that Constance is in her favour!'</p>
+<p>'Try and think kindly of her trouble. Gill, and then it will be easier to be
+kind to her.'</p>
+<p>Gillian sighed. Falsehood and determined opposition to her mother were the
+greatest possible crimes in her eyes; and at her age it was not easy to separate
+the sin from the sinner.</p>
+<p>New Year's night was always held to be one of especial merriment, but Lady
+Merrifield was so much tired out by her expedition that she hardly felt equal to
+presiding over any sports, and proposed that instead the young folk should
+dance. Gillian and Hal took turns to play for them, and Uncle Reginald and Fly
+were in equal request as partners. It was Mysie who came to draw Dolores out of
+her corner, and begged her to be her partner--'If you wouldn't very much rather
+not,' she said, in a pleading, wistful, voice.</p>
+<p>Dolores would 'very much rather not;' but she saw that Mysie would be left
+out altogether if she did not consent, as Hal was playing and Uncle Regie was
+dancing with Primrose. She thought of resolutions to turn over a new leaf, and
+not to refuse everything so she said, 'Yes, this once,' and it was wonderful how
+much freshened she felt by the gay motion, and perhaps by Mysie's merry,
+good-natured eyes and caressing hand. After that she had another turn with
+Gillian and one with Hal, and even one with Fergus because, as he politely
+informed her, no one else would have him for a quadrille. But, just as this was
+in progress, and she could not help laughing at his ridiculous mistakes and
+contempt of rules she met Uncle Reginald's eye fixed on her in wonder 'He thinks
+I don't care,' thought she to herself. All her pleasure was gone, and she moved
+so dejectedly that her aunt, watching from the sofa, called her and told her she
+was over-tired, and sent her to bed.</p>
+<p>Dolores was tired, but not in the way which made it harder instead of easier
+to sleep, or, rather, she slept just enough to relax her full consciousness and
+hold over herself, and bring on her a misery of terror and loneliness, and
+feeling of being forsaken by the whole world. And when she woke fully enough to
+understand the reality, it was no better; she felt, then, the position she had
+put herself into, and almost saw in the dark, Flinders's malicious vindictive
+glance Constance's anger, Uncle Regie's cold, severe look and, worse than all,
+her father reading her letter'</p>
+<p>She fell again into an agony of sobbing, not without a little hope that Aunt
+Lily would be again brought to her side. At last the door was softly pushed open
+in the dark, but it was not Aunt Lily, it was Mysie's little bare feet that
+patted up to the bed, her arms that embraced, her cheek that was squeezed
+against the tearful one--'Oh, Dolly, Dolly! please don't cry so sadly!'</p>
+<p>'Oh! it is so dreadful, Mysie!'</p>
+<p>'Are you ill--like the other night?'</p>
+<p>'No--but--Mysie--I can't bear it!'</p>
+<p>'I don't want to call mamma,' said Mysie, thoughtfully, 'for she is so much
+tired, and Uncle Regie and Gill said she would be quite knocked up, and got her
+to come up to bed when we went. Dolly, would it be better if I got into your bed
+and cuddled you up?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes! oh yes! please do, there's a dear good Mysie.'</p>
+<p>There was not much room, but that mattered the less, and the hugging of the
+warm arms seemed to heal the terrible sense of being unloved and forsaken, the
+presence to drive away the visions of angry faces that had haunted her; but
+there was the longing for fellow-feeling on her, and she said, 'That's nice! Oh,
+Mysie! you can't think what it is like! Uncle Regie said I didn't care, and he
+could never forgive deliberate deceit--and I was so fond of Uncle Regie!'</p>
+<p>'Oh! but he will, if you never tell a story again,' said Mysie--and, as she
+felt a gesture implying despair--'Yes, they do; I told a story once.'</p>
+<p>'You, Mysie! I thought you never did?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, once, when we were crossing to Ireland and nurse wouldn't let Wilfred
+tie our handkerchiefs together and fish over the side, and he was very angry,
+and threw her parasol into the sea when she wasn't looking; and I knew she would
+be so cross, that when she asked me if I knew what was become of it, I said
+'No,' and thought I didn't, really. But then it came over me, again and again,
+that I had told a story, and, oh! I was so miserable whenever I thought of
+it--at church, and saying my prayers, you know; and mamma was poorly, and
+couldn't come to us at night for ever so long, but at last I could bear it no
+longer, I heard her say, 'Mysie is always truthful,' and then I did get it out,
+and told her. And, oh! she and papa were so kind, and they did quite and
+entirely forgive me!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, you told of your own accord; and they were your own--not Uncle Regie.
+Ah! Mysie, everybody hates me. I saw them all looking at me.'</p>
+<p>'No, no! Don't say such things. Dolly. None of us do anything so shocking.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Jasper does, and Wilfred and Val!'</p>
+<p>'No! no! no! they don't hate; only they are tiresome sometimes; but if you
+wouldn't be cross they would be nice directly--at least Japs and Val. And
+'tisn't hating with Willie, only he thinks teasing is fun.'</p>
+<p>'And you and Gillian. You can only just bear me.</p>
+<p>'No! no! no!' with a great hug, 'that's not true.'</p>
+<p>'You like Fly ever so much better!'</p>
+<p>'She is so dear, and so funny,' said Mysie, the truthful, 'but somehow, Dolly
+dear, do you know, I think if you and I got to love one another like real
+friends, it would be nicer still than even Fly--because you are here like one of
+us, you know; and besides, it would be more, because you are harder to get at.
+Will you be my own friend. Dolly?'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Mysie, I must!' and there was a fresh kissing and hugging.</p>
+<p>'And there's mamma,' added Mysie.</p>
+<p>'Yes, I know Aunt Lily does now; but, oh! if you had seen Uncle Alfred's
+face, and heard Uncle Regie,' and Dolly began to sob again as they returned on
+her. 'I see them whenever I shut my eyes!'</p>
+<p>'Darling,' whispered Mysie, 'when I feel bad at night, I always kneel up in
+bed and say my prayers again!'</p>
+<p>'Do you ever feel bad?'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, when I'm frightened, or if I've been naughty, and haven't told
+mamma. Shall we do it, Dolly?'</p>
+<p>'I don't know what that has to do with it, but we'll try.'</p>
+<p>'Mamma told me something to say out of.'</p>
+<p>The two little girls rose up, with clasped hands in their bed, and Mysie
+whispered very low, but so that her companion heard, and said with her a few
+childish words of confession, pleading and entreating for strength, and then the
+Lord's Prayer, and the sweet old verse:--</p>
+
+<p>'I lay my body down to sleep,<br>
+I give my soul to Christ to keep,<br>
+Wake I at morn, as wake I never,<br>
+I give my soul to Christ for ever.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! but I am afraid of that. I don't like it,' said Dolores, as they lay
+down again.</p>
+<p>'It won't make one never wake,' returned Mysie; 'and I do like to give my
+soul to Christ. It seems so to rest one, and make one not afraid.'</p>
+<p>'I don't know,' said Dolores; 'and why did you say the Lord's Prayer? That
+hasn't anything to do with it!'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Dolly, when He is our Father near, though our own dear fathers are far
+away, and there's deliver us from evil--all that hurts us, you know-and forgive
+us. It's all there.'</p>
+<p>'I never thought that,' said Dolores. 'I think you have some different
+prayers from mine. Old nurse taught me long ago. I wish you would always say
+yours with me. You make them nicer.'</p>
+<p>Mysie answered with a hug, and a murmured 'If I can,' and offered to say the
+121st Psalm, her other step to comfort, and, as she said it, she resolved in her
+mind whether she could grant Dolores's request; for she was not sure whether she
+should be allowed to leave her room before saying her own, and she I knew enough
+of Dolores by this time to be aware that to say she would ask mamma's leave
+would put an end to all. 'I know,' was her final decision; 'I'll say my own
+first, and then come to Dolly's room.'</p>
+<p>But by that time Dolores was asleep, even if Mysie had not been too sleepy to
+speak.</p>
+<p>She meant to have rushed to the room she shared with Valetta before it was
+time to get up, but Lots found the black head and the brown together on
+Dolores's pillow, wrapped in slumber; and though Mysie flew home as soon as she
+was well awake, Mrs. Halfpenny descended on her while she was yet in her bath,
+and inflicted a sharp scolding for the malpractice of getting into her cousin's
+bed.</p>
+<p>'But Dolly was so miserable, nurse, and mamma was too tired to call.'</p>
+<p>'Then you should have called me, Miss Mysie, and I'd have sorted her well!
+You kenned well 'tis a thing not to be done and at your age; ye should have
+minded your duties better.'</p>
+<p>And nurse even intercepted Mysie on her way to Dolores's room, and declared
+she would have no messing and gossiping in one another's rooms. Miss Mysie was
+getting spoilt among strangers.</p>
+<p>Mysie went down with a strong sense of having been disobedient, as well as of
+grief for Dolores's disappointment. Happily mamma was late that morning, and
+nobody was in her room but Primrose. Poor Mysie had soon, with tears in her
+eyes, confessed her transgression. Her mother's tears, to her great surprise,
+were on her cheek together with a kiss. 'Dear child, I am not displeased.
+Indeed, I am not; I will tell nurse. It must not be a habit, but this was an
+exception, and I am only thankful you could comfort her.</p>
+<p>'And, mamma, may I go now to her. She said I could help her to say her
+prayers, and I think she only has little baby ones that her nurse taught her and
+she doesn't see into the Lord's Prayer.'</p>
+<p>'My dear, my dear, if you can help her to pray you will do the thing most
+sure to be a blessing to her of all.'</p>
+<p>And when Mysie was gone, Lady Merrifield knelt down afresh in thankfulness.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XVIII.<br>
+MYSIE AND DOLORES.</h3>
+
+<p>Things were going on more quietly at Silverton. That is to say, there were no
+outward agitations, for the house was anything but quiet. Lady Merrifield had no
+great love for children's parties, where, as she said, they sat up too late, to
+eat and drink what was not good for them, and to get presents that they did not
+care about; and though at Dublin it had been necessary on her husband's account
+to give and take such civilities, she had kept out of the exchange at Silverton.
+But, on the other hand, there were festivals, and she promoted a full amount of
+special treats at home among themselves, or with only an outsider or two, and
+she endured any amount of noise, provided it was not quarrelsome,
+over-boisterous, or at unfit times.</p>
+<p>There was the school tea, and magic-lantern, when Mr. Pollock acted as
+exhibitor, and Harry as spokesman, and worked them up gradually from grave and
+beautiful scenes like the cedars of Lebanon, the Parthenon and Colosseum, with
+full explanations, through dissolving views of cottage and bridge by day and
+night, summer and winter, of life-boat rescue, and the siege of Sevastopol, with
+shells flying, on to Jack and the Beanstalk and the New Tale of a Tub, the
+sea-serpent, and the nose-grinding! Lady Phyllis's ecstacy was surpassing, more
+especially as she found her beloved little maid-of-all-work, and was introduced
+to all that small person's younger brothers and sisters.</p>
+<p>Here they met Miss Hacket, who was in charge of a class. She comported
+herself just as usual, and Gillian's dignity and displeasure gave way before her
+homely cordiality. Constance had not come, as indeed nothing but childhood,
+sympathy with responsibility for childhood, could make the darkness, stuffiness,
+and noise of the exhibition tolerable. Even Lady Merrifield trusted her flock to
+its two elders, and enjoyed a tete-a-tete evening with her brother, who profited
+by it to advise her strongly to send Dolores to their sister Jane before harm
+was done to her own children.</p>
+<p>'I would not see that little Mysie of yours spoilt for all the world,' said
+he.</p>
+<p>'Nor I; but I don't think it likely to happen.'</p>
+<p>'Do you know that they are always after each other, chattering in their
+bedrooms at night. I hear them through the floor.'</p>
+<p>'Only one night--Mysie told me all about it--I believe Mysie will do more for
+that poor child than any of us.'</p>
+<p>Uncle Regie shrugged his shoulders a little.</p>
+<p>'Yes, I know I was wrong before, when I wouldn't take Jane's warning; but
+that was not about one of my own, and, besides, poor Dolores is very much
+altered.'</p>
+<p>'I'll tell you what, Lily, when any one, I don't care who, man, or woman, or
+child, once is given up to that sort of humbug and deceit, carrying it on a that
+girl, Dolores, had done, I would never trust again an inch beyond what I could
+see. It eats into the very marrow of the bones--everything is acting
+afterwards.'</p>
+<p>'That would be saying no repentance was possible--that Jacob never could
+become Israel.'</p>
+<p>'I only say I have never seen it.'</p>
+<p>'Then I hope you will, nay, that you do. I believe your displeasure is the
+climax of all Dolly's troubles.'</p>
+<p>But Colonel Reginald Mohun could not forgive the having been so entirely
+deceived where he had so fully trusted; and there was no shaking his opinion
+that Dolores was essentially deceitful and devoid of feeling and that the few
+demonstrations of emotion that were brought before him were only put on to
+excite the compassion of her weakly, good-natured aunt, so he only answered,
+'You always were a soft one Lily.'</p>
+<p>To which she only answered, 'We shall see knowing that in his present state
+of mind he would only set down the hopeful tokens that she perceived either to
+hypocrisy on the girl's side, or weakness on hers.</p>
+<p>Dolores had indeed gone with the others rather because she could not bear
+remaining to see her uncle's altered looks than because she expected much
+pleasure. And she had the satisfaction of sitting by Mysie, and holding her
+hand, which had become a very great comfort in her forlorn state--so great that
+she forebore to hurt her cousin's feelings by discoursing of the dissolving
+views she had seen at a London party. Also she exacted a promise that this
+station should always be hers.</p>
+<p>Mysie, on her side, was in some of the difficulties of a popular character,
+for Fly felt herself deserted, and attacked her on the first opportunity.</p>
+<p>'What does make you always go after Dolly instead of me, Mysie? Do you like
+her so much better?'</p>
+<p>'Oh no! but you have them all, and she has nobody.'</p>
+<p>'Well, but she has been so horridly naughty, hasn't she?'</p>
+<p>'I don't think she meant it.'</p>
+<p>'One never does. At least, I'm sure I don't--and mamma always says it is
+nonsense to say that.'</p>
+<p>'I'm not sure whether it is always,' said Mysie, thoughtfully, 'for sometimes
+one does worse than one knows. Once I made a mouse-trap of a beautiful large
+sheet of bluey paper, and it turned out to be an order come down to papa. Mamma
+and Alethea gummed it up as well as ever they could again, but all the officers
+had to know what had happened to it.'</p>
+<p>'And were you punished?'</p>
+<p>'I was not allowed to go into papa's room without one of the elder ones till
+after my next birthday, but that wasn't so bad as papa's being so vexed, and
+everybody knowing it; and Major Denny would talk about mice and mouse-traps
+every time he saw me till I quite hated my name.'</p>
+<p>'And I'm sure you didn't mean to cut up an important paper.'</p>
+<p>'No; but I did do a little wrong, for we had no leave to take anything not
+quite in the waste basket, and this had been blown off the table, and was on the
+floor outside. They didn't punish me so much I think because of that. Papa said
+it was partly his own fault for not securing it when he was called off. You see
+little wrongs that one knows turn out great wrongs that one would never think
+of, and that is so very dreadful, and makes me so very sorry for Dolores.'</p>
+<p>'I didn't think you would like a cross, naughty girl like that more than your
+own Fly.'</p>
+<p>'No, no! Fly, don't say that. I don't really like her half so well, you know,
+only if you would help me to be kind to her.'</p>
+<p>'I am sure my mother wouldn't wish me to have anything to do with her. I
+don't think she would have let me come here if she had known what sort of girl
+she is.'</p>
+<p>'But your papa knew when he left you--'</p>
+<p>'Oh, papa! yes; but he can never see anything amiss in a Mohun; I heard her
+say so. And he wants me to be friends with you; dear, darling friends like him
+and your Uncle Claude, Mysie, so you must be, and not be always after that
+Dolores.'</p>
+<p>'I want to be friends with both. One can have two friends.'</p>
+<p>'No! no! no! not two best friends. And you are my best friend, Mysie, ever so
+much better than Alberta Fitzhugh, if only you'll come always to me this little
+time when I'm here, and sit by me instead of that Dolly.'</p>
+<p>'I do love you very much, Fly.'</p>
+<p>'And you'll sit by me at the penny reading to-night?'</p>
+<p>'I promised Dolly. But she may sit on the other side.'</p>
+<p>'No,' said Phyllis, with jealous perverseness. 'I don't care if that Dolly is
+to be on the other side, you'll talk to nobody but her! Now, Mysie, I had been
+writing to ask daddy to let you come home with me, you yourself, to the
+Butterfly's Ball, but if you won't sit by me, you may stay with your dear
+Dolores.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Fly! When you know I promised, and there is the other side.'</p>
+<p>But Fly had been courted enough by all the cousinhood to have become exacting
+and displeased at having any rival to the honour of her hand--so she pouted and
+said, 'I don't care about it, if you have her. I shall sit between Val and
+Jasper.'</p>
+<p>One must be thirteen, with a dash of the sentiment of a budding friendship,
+to enter into all that "sitting by" involves; and in Mysie's case, here was
+her compassionate promise standing not only between her and the avowed
+preference of one so charming as Fly, but possibly depriving her of the chances
+of the wonders of the Butterfly's Ball. No wonder that disconsolate tears came
+into her eyes as she uttered another pleading, 'Oh, Fly, how can you?'</p>
+<p>'You must choose,' said the offended young lady; 'you can't have us both.'</p>
+<p>To which argument she stuck, being offended as well as scandalized at being
+set aside for such a culprit as Dolores, whose misdemeanours and discourtesy
+were equally shocking to her imagination.</p>
+<p>Mysie could confide her troubles to no one, for she was aware that caring
+about sitting together was treated by the elders as egregious folly; but a
+promise was a promise with her, and she held staunchly to her purpose, though
+between Dolores and Miss Vincent she lost all those delightful asides which
+enhanced the charms of the amusing parts of the penny reading and beguiled the
+duller ones--of which there were many, since it was more concert than penny
+reading, people being rather shy of committing themselves to reading--Hal, Mr.
+Pollock and the schoolmaster being the only volunteers in that line.</p>
+<p>Gillian had, sorely against the grain, to play a duet with Constance Hacket.
+The two young ladies had met one another with freezing civility in the
+classroom, and to those who understood matters, the stiffness of their necks and
+shoulders, as they sat at the piano, spoke unutterable things. But there had
+never been any real liking between Constance and the younger Merrifields, and
+the mother did not trouble herself much about this, knowing that the vexation of
+the elder sister, about whom she did care, would pass off with friendly
+intercourse.</p>
+<p>Fly's displeasure did not last long, for Mysie bad more attractions for her
+than any one else, and she was a good-humoured creature. There was a joyous
+Twelfth-Night, with home-made cake and home-characters, prepared by mamma and
+Gillian, and followed up by games, in which Dolores had a share, promoted by her
+aunt, who was very anxious to keep her from feeling set apart from every one;
+but this was difficult to manage, as she was so generally disliked, that even
+Gillian was only good-natured to her in accordance with her mother's desire that
+she should not be treated as 'out of the pale of humanity.' Mysie alone sought
+her out and brought her forward with any real earnestness, and good little Mysie
+had a somewhat difficult part to play between kindness to her and Fly's
+occasional little jealous tiffs and decided disapproval. Mysie never thought,
+however, about the situation or its difficulties, she simply followed the
+moment's call of kindness to Dolores, and, when it was possible, followed her
+own inclinations, and enjoyed Fly's lively society.</p>
+<p>And Dolores was certainly softening and improving. A word to Mrs. Halfpenny
+had secured the two girls being permitted to say their prayers together in
+Dolores's room unmolested; and what was a reality to a contemporary became less
+and less to Dolores a mere lesson imposed by the authority of an elder. That
+link between religious instruction and daily life, which is all important, yet
+so difficult to find, was being gradually put into Dolores's hands by her little
+cousin-friend. Lady Merrifield hoped and guessed it might be thus, from the
+questions that Mysie asked her at times, and from the quickened attention
+Dolores showed to her religious lessons, and her less dull and indifferent air
+at church.</p>
+<p>It could not be said that she was different with the others. She was
+depressed, and wanted spirits for enjoyment, nor would active romping diversions
+ever be pleasant to her. She had not the nature for them, and was not young
+enough to learn to like them. It could not but seem foolish to her to race about
+as a Croat or a savage, and she only beheld with wonder Gillian's genuine
+delight in games not merely entered into for the sake of the little ones. But
+there was a strong devotion growing up in her to her aunt and to Mysie, and what
+they asked of her she did--even when on a wet day her aunt condemned her to
+learn battledore and shuttle-cock of Gillian, who was equally to be pitied for
+the awkwardness of her pupil and the banter of her brothers, while Dolly picked
+up her shuttlecock and tossed it off with grim determination, as if doing
+penance for this dismal half hour. She managed better in the games where ready
+sharpness of intellect or memory was wanted, and she liked these, and would have
+liked them still better if Uncle Reginald had not always looked astonished if
+she laughed.</p>
+<p>She did her part, too, in the little play, being one of the chorus of the
+maidens who 'make a vow to make a row.' Lady Merrifield had, according to the
+general request, saved disputes by casting the parts, Gillian being the sage old
+woman who brought the damsels to reason. Fly, the prime mover of the tumult, and
+Mysie, her confidante, while Val and Dolly made up the mob. A little
+manipulation of skirts, tennis-aprons, ribbons, and caps made very nice peasant
+costumes. Hal was the self-important Bailli, and Jasper the drummer, the part of
+gens-d'armes being all that Wilfred and Fergus could be trusted with.</p>
+<p>Lord Rotherwood came back, and his little daughter's ecstacy was goodly to
+see, as she danced about her daddy, almost bursting with the secret of what he
+was to see after dinner, and showing herself so brilliantly well and happy that
+he congratulated himself upon her mother's satisfaction.</p>
+<p>While the elders were at dinner, Gillian, with Miss Vincent's help, finished
+off the arrangements. There were no outsiders, except the Vicar and Mr. Pollock
+who had been asked to dinner, for Lady Merrifield said she never liked to make
+her children an exhibition.</p>
+<p>'You are an old-fashioned Lily,' said her cousin, 'and happily not concerned
+with popularity. It is a fine thing to be able to consult one's children's
+absolute best.'</p>
+<p>The performance went off beautifully--at least so thought both actors and
+spectators. The dignity of the Bailli and the meddling of the drummer were alike
+delightful; Fly was charmingly arch and mutinous; Mysie very straightforward;
+and the least successful personation was that of Gillian, who had a fit of
+stage-fright, forgot sentences, and whirred her spinning-wheel nervously, all
+the worse for being scolded by her brothers behind the scenes, and assured that
+she was making a mull of the whole affair. And she had been so spirited at the
+rehearsals, but she was at a self-conscious age, and could not forget the four
+spectators. Very little was required of Dolores, but that little she did simply
+and well, and Lord Rotherwood, after watching her all the evening, observed to
+Lady Merrifield, 'I should say your difficulties were diminishing, are they not?
+The thunder-cloud seems to be a little lightened.'</p>
+<p>'I am so glad you think so, Rotherwood. I feel sure that all this distress
+has drawn her nearer to us, only Regie won't believe it.'</p>
+<p>'Regie is prejudiced.'</p>
+<p>'Is he? I thought him specially fond of Maurice's child, and that this was
+revulsion of feeling; but what I am afraid of is, that he will never believe in
+her or like her again, whatever she may be, and she is really fond of him.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Reginald is not over disposed to believe in any woman's truth--outside
+his own family and sisters. Poor fellow! I can't say he was well used.'</p>
+<p>'What? I suppose be has bad his romance like other people--his little
+episode, as my husband calls it.'</p>
+<p>'Yes; and I am afraid we were accountable for it. You remember we were at
+Harthope Castle for the first two years after I was married, while Rotherwood
+was brought up to the requirements of the Victorian age.</p>
+<p>The ---th was quartered at Harfield, within easy distance, and a splendid
+looking fellow like Regie was invaluable to Victoria, whenever she wanted
+anything to go off well. Well, in those days I had a ward, my mother's great
+niece, Maude Conway. A pretty winsome creature it was, and an heiress in a
+moderate sort of way, and poor old Redge, after all his little affairs, and he
+had had his share of them, was evidently in for it at last. Victoria thought, as
+well as myself, it was the best thing for them both. He was the sound-hearted,
+good fellow to keep her matters straight, and she had enough for comfort without
+overweighting the balance. So they were engaged but unluckily they had to wait
+till she was of age, about eight months off, and they were both ridiculously
+shy, and would not have the thing known, though Victoria said it was unwise. I
+don't think even Jane suspected it.'</p>
+<p>'No; I don't think she could have done so.'</p>
+<p>'Well, there was the season, and Victoria was not in condition for going out,
+and Maude was all for staying quietly with her; but old Lady Conway came
+about--a regular schemer--a woman I never could abide. She had married off her
+own daughters, and wanted her niece to practise on, that was the fact. Victoria
+says she always knew that she, Maude I mean, was very impressionable and
+impulsive, and so she wanted to have her out of harm's way; but one could not
+prevent her aunt from getting hold of her and taking her out. Then people told
+us of her goings on with that scamp Clanmacklosky and that sister of his.
+Victoria talked to her by the yard, but she denied it, and we thought it all
+gossip. Regie came up for a couple of nights, and she was as sweet on him as
+ever, and sent him away thinking it all right; but the end of it was, she fought
+off going down to Rotherwood with us, but went to Brighton with Lady Conway, and
+the next thing we heard was that she wrote to throw Reginald over, and she
+married Clanmacklosky a month after she was twenty-one! I don't think I ever saw
+Victoria so cut up, for we had really liked the girl and thought well of her. To
+this hour I believe it was all that woman's doing, and that poor Maude has
+supped sorrow. She has lost all her good looks.'</p>
+<p>'And Regie has never got over it?'</p>
+<p>'Not so as to believe in a woman again.'</p>
+<p>'He used to be rather a joke for susceptibility, and was still a regular boy
+when we went out to Gibraltar. I thought him much graver.'</p>
+<p>'Exactly; since that affair his soul has gone into his regiment. It's a wife
+to him, and luckily he got his promotion in time, so as not to be shelved.'</p>
+<p>'I suppose it was really an escape.'</p>
+<p>'I don't know--she would have done very well in his hands. She is the sort of
+woman to be as you make her, and even now is a world too good for Clan. Victoria
+can never be quite cordial with her, but I can't see the poor harassed thing
+without thinking what a sweet creature she once was, and wishing I'd had the
+sense to look after her better. But what I came here for, Lily, was to say you
+must let me have that Mysie of yours, since you won't come yourself to this
+concern of ours. I'm afraid you won't think much good has come of us, but we
+couldn't do the Country Mouse much harm in a fortnight; and you know it is the
+wish of my heart that my lonely Fly should grow up on such terms with your flock
+as Florence and I did with you all.'</p>
+<p>He pleaded quite piteously, and he was backed up by a letter from his wife,
+very grateful for her little Phyllis's happy visit, reiterating the invitation
+to Lady Merrifield, and begging that if she still could not come herself, she
+would at least send Jasper and Mysie for the Butterfly's Ball. Mysie's fancy
+dress would be ready for her, only waiting for the final touches after it was
+tried on. Lady Florence Devereux, too, was near at hand, and wrote to promise to
+look after Mysie.</p>
+<p>There was no refusing after this. Lady Florence was not far from being like a
+sister to her cousins. She had tended her mother's old age, and had subsequently
+settled down into the lady of all work of Rotherwood parish. Lady Merrifield had
+much confidence in her, and indeed all she saw of Fly gave her a great respect
+for Lady Rotherwood's management of her child. Harry was going to his uncle's at
+Beechcroft for some shooting, and would bring Mysie home when Jasper went back
+to school.</p>
+<p>So Gillian was called to her mother's room to be told first of the
+arrangement, which certainly in some aspects was rather hard on her.</p>
+<p>'I could not help it, my dear,' said Lady Merrifield, 'without absolutely
+asking for an invitation for you.'</p>
+<p>'No, mamma; and it is Mysie who is Fly's friend, being the same age and all.
+It is quite right, and I understand it.'</p>
+<p>'My dear, I am so glad I can do such a thing as this. If there were small
+jealousies among you, I could not venture on letting you be set aside, for I
+know the disappointment was quite as great to you as to Mysie, when we gave it
+up.'</p>
+<p>'But she was better about it than I,' said Gillian; 'mamma, your trusting me
+in that way is better than a dozen balls. Besides, I know I should hate being
+there without you; I'm a great old thing, as Jasper says, neither fish nor fowl,
+you know, not come out, and not a little girl in the schoolroom, and it would be
+very horrid going to a grand place like that on one's own account.'</p>
+<p>'That's right, Gillyflower. 'Tis very wholesome to discover the sourness of
+the grapes. And as I think grandmamma is really coming, I shall want you at
+home, and to look after Dolores.'</p>
+<p>'That's the worst of it, mamma; I shall never get on with her as Mysie does.'</p>
+<p>'We must do our best, for I do think really the poor child is improving.'</p>
+<p>'Lessons will begin again! That's one comfort,' said Gillian, rather
+quaintly, thinking of the length of time that Dolores would thus be off her
+hands.</p>
+<p>'And now call Mysie. I must speak to her.'</p>
+<p>As for Mysie, she was in a state of rapture. She knew her bliss before her
+mother had communicated it, for Lord Rotherwood could not refrain from telling
+his daughter that consent was gained, and Fly darted headlong to embrace Mysie,
+dance round her and rejoice. The boys declared that Mysie at once sprang into
+the air like a chamois, and that her head touched the ceiling, but this is
+believed to be a figment of Jasper's.</p>
+<p>It was only on the summons to her mother's room that Mysie discovered that
+Gillian was not going with her. It dimmed the lustre of her delight for a little
+while, 'Oh, Gill, aren't you very sorry? You ought to have had the first turn.'</p>
+<p>'Never mind, Mysie, you are Fly's friend,'--and the two sisters' looks at one
+another at that moment were a real pleasure to their mother.</p>
+<p>Mysie was of a less shy nature than Gillian, as well as at a less awkward
+age, so that the visiting without her mother was less formidable, and she rushed
+about wild with delight; but Dolores was very disconsolate.</p>
+<p>'Every one I care for goes away and changes,' she said in her melancholy
+little sentiment.</p>
+<p>'But it's only for a fortnight, Dolly, I don't think I could change so fast.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, you will, among all those swells. You like Fly ever so much better
+than me.'</p>
+<p>Mysie looked grieved and puzzled, but then exclaimed, in the tone of a
+discovery, 'There are different sorts of likings, Dolly, don't you see. I do
+love Fly very much, but you know you are like a sort of almost twin sister to
+me. I like her best, but I care about you most!'</p>
+<p>With which curious distinction Dolores had to put up.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XIX.<br>
+A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS.</h3>
+
+<p>Colonel Mohun took Wilfred to his school, which began its term earlier than
+did Jasper's, and Silver-ton was wonderfully quiet. The elder Mrs. Merrifield
+was not to come for nearly a week, so that it would have been possible for her
+daughter-in-law to go to the Rotherwood festivities without interfering with her
+visit, but this no one except Gillian and Mysie knew, and they kept the secret
+well.</p>
+<p>The departure of the boys was a great relief to Dolores. Her aunt did not
+rank her with Valetta and Fergus, but let her consort with herself and Gillian,
+and this suited her much better. Even Gillian allowed that she was ever so much
+nicer when there was no one to tease her. It was true that Jasper certainly, and
+perhaps Wilfred, would not have molested her if she had not offended the latter,
+and offered herself as fair game; but Gillian, who had to forestall and prevent
+their pranks, could not feel their absence quite the privation her sisterly
+spirit usually did!</p>
+<p>Valetta and Fergus were harmless without them, but they were forlorn, being
+so much used to having their sports led by their two seniors that they hardly
+knew what to do without them, and the entreaty, or rather the whine, 'I want
+something to do,' was heard unusually often. This led to Gillian's being often
+called off to attend to them during the course of wet days that ensued, and thus
+Dolores was a good deal alone with her aunt, who was superintending her knitting
+a pair of silk stockings to send out to her father, it was hoped in time for his
+next birthday.</p>
+<p>At the first proposal, Dolores looked dull and unwilling, and at last she
+squeezed out, 'I don't think father will ever want me to do anything for him
+again.'</p>
+<p>'My poor child, do you think a father does not forgive and love all the more
+one who is in deep sorrow for a fault?'</p>
+<p>'I don't think my letter seemed sorry! I was not half so sorry then as I am
+now,' then at a kind word from her aunt her eyes overflowed, and she said, 'No,
+I wasn't; I didn't know how good you were, or how bad I was!'</p>
+<p>And when Aunt Lily kissed her, she put her arms round the kind neck that bent
+down to her, and laid her head against it, as if it was quite a rest to feel
+that love. Her aunt encouraged her to write again to her father, and to try to
+express something of her grief and entreaty for forgiveness, and she was
+somewhat cheered after this; as though something of the load on her mind was
+removed. One day she brought down all the books in her room and said, 'Please,
+Aunt Lily, look at them, and let them be with the rest in the schoolroom, I want
+to be just like the others.'</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield was much pleased with this surrender. Some of the books were
+really well worth having and reading, indeed, the best of them she knew, but
+there were eight or ten which she suspected of being what Mysie called silly
+stories, and she kept them back to look over. She had been trying in this quiet
+interval to get Dolly to read something besides mere childish stories for
+recreation; and when she saw how well worn the story books were, and how
+untouched the 'easy history,' and the books about animals and foreign countries
+were, she saw why so clever a girl as Dolores seemed so stupid about everything
+she had not learnt as a lesson, and entirely ignorant of English poetry.</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield read to her and Gillian in the evenings, and how they did
+enjoy it, and bemoaned the coming of grandmamma, to spoil their snugness and
+occupy 'mamma.' For Dolores began so to call Lady Merrifield. She had never so
+termed her own mother, and it seemed to her that with the words 'Aunt Lily' she
+put away all sorts of foolish, sinister feelings.</p>
+<p>'Mrs. Merrifield was a wonderful old lady, brisk of mind and body, though of
+great age. She had been spending Christmas with her eldest son, the Admiral, at
+Stokesley, and was going to take on her way the daughter-in-law, of whom she
+knew but little in comparison; and with her she brought the granddaughter,
+Elizabeth Merrifield, who--since her own daughter had died--generally lived with
+her in London, to take care of her.</p>
+<p>'It will be all company and horrid, and nobody will be allowed to make a
+noise!' sighed Valetta to Fergus, as the waggonette, well shut up, drove to the
+door.</p>
+<p>'There's cousin Bessie,' said Fergus.</p>
+<p>'Oh, cousin Bessie is thirty-four, and that is as bad as being as old as
+grandmamma!'</p>
+<p>And they hung back while the old lady was helped out, and brought across the
+hall into the warm drawing-room before her fur cloak was taken off. There was a
+quiet little person with her, and Val whispered, 'She'll be just like Aunt
+Jane.'</p>
+<p>But the eyes that Bessie turned on her cousins were not at an like Aunt
+Jane's little searching black ones. They were of a dark shade of grey, and had a
+wonderful softness and sweetness in them. Gillian knew her a little already, but
+very little, for there had always been the elder sisters at their former short
+meetings. Mamma lamented that there should be so few grandchildren at home to be
+shown, though, as she said, 'the full number might have been too noisy.'</p>
+<p>Grandmamma shook her head. 'I like the house full,' she said, 'I'm all right,
+but it is a pity to see the nest emptied, like Stokesley, now. Nobody left at
+home but Susan and little Sally! Make the most of them while you have them about
+you!'</p>
+<p>The old lady was quite delighted to find Primrose so nearly a baby, and to
+have one grandchild still quite as small or smaller than some of her great
+grandchildren whom she had never seen. Her great pleasure, however, soon proved
+to be in talking about her son Jasper, and hearing all his wife could tell her
+about his life in India; and as Lady Merrifield liked no other subject so well,
+they were very happy together, and quite absorbed.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile Bessie made herself a companion to Gillian and Dolores, and though
+so much older, seemed to consider herself as a girl like them. Then, living for
+the most part in town, she could talk about London matters to Dolly, and this
+was a great treat, while yet she had country tastes enough to suit Gillian, and
+was not in the least afraid of a long walk to the fir plantations to pick up
+Weymouth pine cones, and the still more precious pinaster ones.</p>
+<p>For the first time Gillian began to see Dolores as Uncle Reginald used to
+know her, free from that heavy mist of sullen dislike to everything and
+everybody. It seemed to bring them together, but, in spite of Bessie's charms,
+they both continually missed Mysie, out of doors and in, in schoolroom and
+drawing-room, and, above all, in Dolly's bedroom. She seemed to be, as Gillian
+told Bessie, 'a sort of family cement, holding the two ends, big and little,
+together;' and Bessie responded that her elder sister Susan was one of that
+sort.</p>
+<p>The evenings now were quite unlike the usual ones. Dinner was late, and the
+two girls came down to it. Afterwards the young ones sat round the fire in the
+hall, where Bessie, who was a wonderful story-teller, kept Fergus and Valetta
+quiet and delighted, either with invented tales or histories of the feats of her
+own brothers and sisters, who were so much older than their Silverton first
+cousins as to be like an elder generation.</p>
+<p>When the two young ones were gone to bed, the others came into the
+drawing-room, where mamma and grandmamma were to be found, either going over
+papa's letters, or else Mrs. Merrifield talking about her Stokesley
+grandchildren, the same whose pranks Bessie had just been telling, so that it
+was not easy to believe in Sam, a captain in the navy. Harry and John farming in
+Canada, David working as a clergy-man in the Black Country, George in. a
+government office, Anne a clergyman's wife, and mother to the great
+grandchildren who were always being compared to Primrose, Susan keeping her
+father's house, and Sarah, though as old as Alethea, still treated as the
+youngest--the child of the family.</p>
+<p>The bits of conversation came to the girls as they sat over their work, and
+Bessie would join in, and tell interesting things, till she saw that grandmamma
+was ready for her nap, and then one or other gave a little music, during which
+Dolly's bed-time generally came.</p>
+<p>'You can't think how grateful I am to you for helping to brighten up that
+poor child in a wholesome way!' said Lady Merrifield to Bessie, under cover of
+Gillian's performance.</p>
+<p>'One can't help being very sorry for her,' said Elizabeth, who knew what was
+hanging over Dolly.</p>
+<p>'Yes, it is a terrible punishment, especially as she has a certain affection
+for her step-uncle, or whatever he should be called, for her mother's sake. It
+really was a perplexed situation.'</p>
+<p>'But why did she not consult you?'</p>
+<p>'Do you know, I think I have found out. She held aloof from us all, and
+treated us--especially me--as if we were her natural enemies, and I never could
+guess what was the reason till the other day; she voluntarily gave me up all her
+books to be looked over and put into the common stock, which you saw in the
+schoolroom.'</p>
+<p>'You look over all the children's books?'</p>
+<p>'Yes. While we were wandering, they did not get enough to make it a very
+arduous task, and now I find that they want weeding. If children read nothing
+but a multitude of stories rather beneath their capacity, they are likely never
+to exert themselves to anything beyond novel reading.'</p>
+<p>'That is quite true, I believe.'</p>
+<p>'Well, among this literature of Dolly's I found no less than four stories
+based on the cruelty and injustice suffered by orphans from their aunts. The
+wicked step-mothers are gone out, and the barbarous aunts are come in. It is the
+stock subject. I really think it is cruel, considering that there are many
+children who have to be adopted into uncles' families, to add to their distress
+and terror, by raising this prejudice. Just look at this one'--taking up Dolly's
+favourite, 'Clare; or No Home'--'it is not at all badly written, which makes it
+all the worse.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Aunt Lilias,' cried Bessie, whose colour had been rising all this time.
+'How shall I tell you? I wrote it!'</p>
+<p>'You! I never guessed you did anything in that line.'</p>
+<p>'We don't talk about it. My father knows, and so does grandmamma, in a way;
+but I never bring it before her if I can help it, for she does not half like the
+notion. But, indeed, they aren't all as bad as that! I know now there is a great
+deal of silly imitation in it; but I never thought of doing harm in this way. It
+is a punishment for thoughtlessness,' cried poor Bessie, reddening desperately,
+and with tears in her eyes.</p>
+<p>'My dear, I am so sorry I said it! If I bad not one of these aunts, I should
+think it a very effective story.'</p>
+<p>'I'm afraid that's so much the worse! Let me tell you about it, Aunt Lilias.
+At home, they always laughed at me for my turn for dismalities.'</p>
+<p>'I believe one always has such a turn when one is young.'</p>
+<p>'Well, when I went to live with grandmamma, it was very different from the
+houseful at home, I had so much time on my hands, and I took to dreaming and
+writing because I could not help it, and all my stories were fearfully doleful.
+I did not think of publishing them for ever so long, but at last when David
+terribly wanted some money for his mission church, I thought I would try, and
+this Clare was about the best. They took it, and gave me five pounds for it, and
+I was so pleased and never thought of its doing harm, and now I don't know how
+much more mischief it may have done!'</p>
+<p>'You only thought of piling up the agony! But don't be unhappy about it. You
+don't know how many aunts it may have warned.'</p>
+<p>'I'm afraid aunts are not so impressionable as nieces. And, indeed, among
+ourselves story-books seemed quite outside from life, we never thought of
+getting any ideas from them any more than from Bluebeard.'</p>
+<p>'So it has been with some of mine, while, on the other hand, Dolores seemed
+to Mysie an interesting story-book heroine--which indeed she is, rather too much
+so. But you have not stood still with Clare.'</p>
+<p>'No, I hope I have grown rather more sensible. David set me to do stories for
+his lads, and, as he is dreadfully critical, it was very improving.'</p>
+<p>'Did you write "Kate's Jewel"? That is delightful. Aunt Jane gave it to
+Val this Christmas, and all of us have enjoyed it! We shall be quite proud of
+it--that is--may I tell the children?'</p>
+<p>'Oh, aunt, you are very good to try to make me forget that miserable Clare. I
+wonder whether it will do any good to tell Dolores all about it. Only I can't
+get at all the other girls I may have hurt.'</p>
+<p>'Nay, Bessie, I think it most likely that Dolores would have been an
+uncomfortable damsel, even if Clare had remained in your brain. There were other
+causes, at any rate, here are three more persecuted nieces in her library.
+Besides, as you observed, everybody does not go to story-books for views of
+human nature, and happily, also, homeless children are commoner in books than
+out of them, so I don't think the damage can be very extensive.'</p>
+<p>'One such case is quite enough! Indeed, it is a great lesson to think whether
+what one writes can give any wrong notion.'</p>
+<p>'I believe one always does begin with imitation.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, it is extraordinary how little originality there is in the world. In
+the literature of my time, everybody had small hands and high foreheads, the
+girls wanted to do great things, and did, or did not do, little ones, and the
+boys all took first classes, and the fashion was to have violet eyes, so dark
+you could not tell their colour, and golden hair.'</p>
+<p>'Whereas now the hair is apt to be bronze, whatever that may be like.'</p>
+<p>'And all the dresses, and all the complexions, and all the lace, and all the
+roses, are creamy. Bessie, I hope you don't deal in creaminess!'</p>
+<p>'I'm afraid skim milk is more like me, and that you would say I had taken to
+the goody line. I never thought of the responsibility then, only when I wrote
+for David's classes.'</p>
+<p>'It is a responsibility, I suppose, in the way in which every word one speaks
+and every letter one writes is so. And now--here is Gillian finishing her piece.
+How far is it a secret, my dear.'</p>
+<p>'It need not be so here, Aunt Lilias. Only my people are rather
+old-fashioned, you know, and are inclined to think it rather shocking of me, so
+it ought not to go beyond the family, and especially don't 'let her,' indicating
+her grandmother, 'hear about it. She knows I do such things--it would not be
+honest not to tell her--but it goes against the grain, and she has never heard
+one word of it all.'</p>
+<p>It appeared that Bessie daily read the psalms and lessons to grandmamma,
+followed up by a sermon. Then, with her wonderful eyes, Mrs. Merrifield read the
+newspaper from end to end, which lasted her till luncheon, then came a drive in
+the brougham, followed by a rest in her own room, dinner, and then Bessie read
+her to sleep with a book of travels or biography, of the old book-club class of
+her youth. Her principles were against novels, and the tale she viewed as only
+fit for children.</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield could not help thinking what a dull life it must be for
+Bessie, a woman full of natural gifts and of great powers of enjoyment,
+accustomed to a country home and a large family, and she said something of the
+kind. 'I did not like it at first,' said Bessie, 'but I have plenty of
+occupations now, besides all these companions that I've made for myself, or that
+came to me, for I think they come of themselves.'</p>
+<p>'But what time have you to yourself?'</p>
+<p>'Grandmamma does not want me till half-past ten in the morning, except for a
+little visit. And she does not mind my writing letters while she is reading the
+paper, provided I am ready to answer anything remarkable. I am quite the family
+newsmonger! Then there's always from four to half-past six when I can go out if
+I like. There's a dear old governess of ours living not far off, and we have
+nice little expeditions together. And you know it is nice to be at the family
+headquarters in London, and have every one dropping in.'</p>
+<p>'Oh dear! how good you are to like going on like that,' said Gillian, who had
+come up while this was passing; 'I should eat my heart out; you must be made up
+of contentment.'</p>
+<p>Elizabeth held up her hand in warning lest her grandmother should be wakened,
+but she laughed and said, 'My brothers would tell you I used to be Pipy Bet. But
+that dear old governess. Miss Fosbrook, was the making of me, and taught me how
+to be jolly like Mark Tapley among the rattlesnakes,' she finished, looking
+drolly up to Gillian.</p>
+<p>'And, Gill, you don't know what Bessie has made her companions instead of the
+rattlesnakes,' said Lady Merrifield. 'What do you think of "Kate's Jewel?"'</p>
+<p>Gillian's astonishment and rapture actually woke grandmamma; not that she
+made much noise, but there was a disturbing force about her excitement; and the
+subject had to be abandoned.</p>
+<p>As the great secret might be shared with Dolores, though not with the younger
+ones, whose discretion could not be depended upon, Gillian could enter upon it
+the more freely, though she was rather disappointed that an author was not such
+an extraordinary sight to Dolly as to herself. But it was charming to both that
+Bessie let them look at the proofs of the story she was publishing in a
+magazine; and allowed them as well as mamma, to read the manuscript of the tale,
+romance, or novel, whichever it was to be called, on which she wished for her
+aunt's opinion.</p>
+<p>Bessie took care, when complying with the girls' entreaty, that she would
+tell them all she had written; to observe that, she thought 'Clare' a very
+foolish book indeed, and that she wished heartily she had never written it.
+Gillian asked why she had done it?</p>
+<p>'Oh,' said Dolores, 'things aren't interesting unless something horrid
+happens, or some one is frightened, or very miserable.'</p>
+<p>'I like things best just and exactly as they really are--or were,' said
+Gillian.</p>
+<p>'The question between sensation and character,' said Bessie to her aunt. 'I
+suppose that, on the whole, it is the few who are palpably affected by the mass
+of fiction in the world; but that it is needful to take good care that those few
+gather at least no harm from one's work--to be faithful in it, in fact, like
+other things.'</p>
+<p>And there was no doubt that Bessie had been faithful in her work ever since
+she had realized her vocation. Her lending library books, written with a
+purpose, were excellent, and were already so much valued by Miss Hacket, that
+Gillian thought how once she should have felt it a privation not to be allowed
+to tell her whence they came; but to her surprise on the Sunday, instead of the
+constraint with which of late she had been treated at tea-time, the eager
+inquiry was made whether this was really the authoress, Miss Merrifield?</p>
+<p>Secrets are not kept as well as people think. The Hackets' married sister was
+a neighbour of Bessie's married sister, and through these ladies it had just
+come round, not only who was the author of 'Charlie's Whistle,' etc., but that
+she wrote in the ---- Magazine, and was in the neighbourhood.</p>
+<p>All offences seemed to be forgotten in the burning desire for an introduction
+to this marvel of success. Constance had made the most of her opportunities in
+gazing at church; but if she called, would she be introduced?</p>
+<p>'Of course,' said Gillian, 'if my cousin is in the room.' She spoke rather
+coldly and gravely, and Miss Hacket exclaimed--</p>
+<p>'I know we have been a little remiss, my dear, I hope Lady Merrifield was not
+offended.'</p>
+<p>'Mamma is never offended,' said Gillian--'but, I do think, and so would she
+and all of us, that if Constance comes, she ought to treat Dolores Mohun--as--as
+usual.'</p>
+<p>The two sisters were silent, perhaps from sheer amazement at this outbreak of
+Gillian's, who had never seemed particularly fond of her cousin. Gillian was
+quite as much surprised at herself, but something seemed to drive her on, with
+flaming cheeks. 'Dolores is half broken-hearted about it all. She did not
+thoroughly know how wrong it was; and it does make her miserable that the one
+who went along with her in it should turn against her, and cut her and all.'</p>
+<p>'Connie never meant to keep it up, I'm sure,' said Miss Hacket; 'but she was
+very much hurt.'</p>
+<p>'So was Dolly,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'Is she so fond of me?' said Constance, in a softened tone.</p>
+<p>'She was,' replied Gillian.</p>
+<p>'I'm sure,' said Miss Hacket, 'our only wish is to forget and forgive as
+Christians. Lady Merrifield has behaved most handsomely, and it is our most
+earnest wish that this unfortunate transaction should be forgotten.'</p>
+<p>'And I'm sure I'm willing to overlook it all,' said Constance. 'One must have
+scrapes, you know; but friendship will triumph over all.'</p>
+<p>Gillian did not exactly wish to unravel this fine sentiment, and was glad
+that the little G.F.S. maid came in with the tea.</p>
+<p>Lady Merrifield was a good deal diverted with Gillian's report, and invited
+the two sisters to luncheon on the plea of their slight acquaintance with
+Anne--otherwise Mrs. Daventry--with a hint in the note not to compliment Mrs.
+Merrifield on Elizabeth's production.</p>
+<p>Then Dolores had to be prepared to receive any advance from Constance. She
+looked disgusted at first, and then, when she heard that Gillian had spoken her
+mind, said, 'I can't think why you should care.'</p>
+<p>'Of course I care, to have Constance behaving so ill to one of us.'</p>
+<p>'Do you think me one of you, Gillian?'</p>
+<p>'Who, what else are you?'</p>
+<p>And Dolores held up her face for a kiss, a heartier one than had ever passed
+between the cousins. There was no kiss between the quondam friends, but they
+shook hands with perfect civility, and no stranger would have guessed their
+former or their present terms from their manner. In fact, Constance was
+perfectly absorbed in the contemplation of the successful authoress, the object
+of her envy and veneration, and only wanted to forget all the unpleasantness
+connected with the dark head on the opposite side of the table.</p>
+<p>'Oh Miss Merrifield,' she asked, in an interval afterwards, when hats were
+being put on, 'bow do you make them take your things?'</p>
+<p>'I don't know,' said Bessie, smiling. 'I take all the pains I can, and try to
+make them useful.'</p>
+<p>'Useful, but that's so dull--and the critics always laugh at things with a
+purpose.'</p>
+<p>'But I don't think that is a reason for not trying to do good, even in this
+very small and uncertain way. Indeed,' she added, earnestly. 'I have no right to
+speak, for I have made great mistakes; but I wanted to tell you that the one
+thing I did get published, which was not written conscientiously--as I may
+say--but only to work out a silly, sentimental fancy, has brought me pain and
+punishment by the harm I know I did.'</p>
+<p>This was a very new idea to Constance, and she actually carried it away with
+her. The visit had restored the usual terms of intercourse with the Hackets,
+though there was no resumption of intimacy such as there had been, between
+Constance and Dolores. It had, however, done much to make the latter feel that
+the others considered themselves one with them, and there was something that
+drew them together in the universal missing of Mysie, and eagerness for her
+letters.</p>
+<p>These were, however, rather disappointing. Mysie had not a genius for
+correspondence, and dealt in very bare facts. There was an enclosure which made
+Lady Merrifield somewhat anxious:</p>
+
+<p>'My Dear Mamma,</p>
+<p>'This is for you all by yourself. I have been in sad mischief, for I broke
+the conservatory and a palm-tree with my umbrella; and I did still worse, for I
+broke my promise and told all about what you told me never to. I will tell you
+all when I come home, and I hope you will forgive me. I wish I was at home. It
+is very horrid when they say one is good and one knows one is not; but I am very
+happy, and Lord Rotherwood is nicer than ever, and so is Fly.</p>
+<p>'I am your affectionate and penitent and dutiful little daughter,</p>
+<p>'MARIA MILLICENT MERRIFIELD.'</p>
+
+<p>With all mamma's intuitive knowledge of her little daughter's mind and forms
+of expression, she was puzzled by this note and the various fractures it
+described. She obeyed its injunctions of secrecy, even with regard to Gillian
+and Bessie, though she could not help wishing that the latter could have seen
+and judged of her Mysie.</p>
+<p>Grandmamma was somewhat disappointed to have missed her eldest grandson, but
+she was obliged to leave Silverton two days before his return with his little
+sister. She had certainly escaped the full tumult of the entire household, but
+Bessie observed that she suspected that it might have been preferred to the
+general quiescence.</p>
+<p>In spite of all the regrets that Bessie's more coeval cousins, Alethea and
+Phyllis were not at home, she and her aunt each felt that a new friendship had
+been made, and that they understood each other, and Bessie had uttered her
+resolution henceforth always to think of the impression for good or evil
+produced on the readers, as well as of the effectiveness of her story. 'Little
+did I suppose that 'Clare' would add to any one's difficulties,' she said,
+'still less to yours, Aunt Lilias.'</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XX.<br>
+CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE.</h3>
+
+<p>Here were the travellers at home again, and Mysie clinging to her mother,
+with, 'Oh, Mamma!' and a look of perfect rest. They arrived at the same time as
+Dolores had come, so late that Mysie was tired out, and only half awake. She was
+consigned to Mrs. Halfpenny after her first kiss, but as she passed along the
+corridor, a door was thrown back, and a white figure sprang upon her. 'Oh,
+Mysie! Mysie!' and in spite of the nurse's chidings, held her fast in an embrace
+of delight. Dolores had been lying awake watching for her, and implored
+permission at least to look on while she was going to bed!</p>
+<p>Harry meanwhile related his experiences to his mother and Gillian over the
+supper-table. The Butterfly's Ball had been a great success. He had never seen
+anything prettier in his life. Plants and lights had been judiciously disposed
+so as to make the hall a continuation of the conservatory, almost a fairy land,
+and the children in their costumes had been more like fairies than flesh and
+blood, pinafore and bread-and-butter beings. There was a most perfect tableau at
+the opening of the scenery constructed with moss and plants, so as to form a
+bower, where the Butterfly and Grasshopper, with their immediate attendants,
+welcomed their company, and afterwards formed the first quadrille, Lady Phyllis,
+with Mysie and two other little girls staying in the house, being the
+butterflies, and Lord Ivinghoe and three more boys of the same ages, the
+grasshoppers, in pages' dresses of suitable colours.</p>
+<p>'I never thought,' said Harry, 'that our little brown mouse would come out so
+pretty or so swell.'</p>
+<p>'She wanted to be the dormouse,' said Gillian.</p>
+<p>'That was impracticable. They were all heath butterflies of different sorts,
+wings very correctly coloured and dresses to correspond. Phyllis the ringlet
+with the blue lining, Mysie, the blue one, little Lady Alberta, the orange-tip,
+and the other child the burnet moth.'</p>
+<p>'How did Mysie dance?'</p>
+<p>'Very fairly, if she had not looked so awfully serious. The dancing-mistress,
+French, of course, had trained them, it was more ballet than quadrille, and they
+looked uncommonly pretty. Uncle William granted that, though he grumbled at the
+whole concern as nonsense, and wondered you should send your nice little girl
+into it to have her head turned.'</p>
+<p>'Do you think she was happy?'</p>
+<p>'Oh, yes, of course. She always is, but she was in prodigious spirits when we
+started to come home. Lady Rotherwood said I was to tell you that no child could
+be more truthful and conscientious. Still somehow she did not look like the
+swells. Except that once, when she was got up regardless of expense for the
+ball, she always had the country mouse look about her. She hadn't--'</p>
+<p>'The 'Jenny Say Caw,' as Macrae calls it?' said his mother. 'Well, I can
+endure that! You need not look so disgusted, Gill. You didn't hear of her
+getting into any scrape, did you?'</p>
+<p>'No,' said Hal. 'Stay, I believe she did break some glass or other, and
+blurted out her confession in full assembly, but I was over at Beechcroft, and I
+am happy to say I didn't see her.'</p>
+<p>Mysie's tap came early to her mother's door the next morning, and it was in
+the midst of her toilette that Lady Merrifield was called on to hear the
+confession that had been weighing on the little girl's mind.</p>
+<p>'I was too sleepy to tell you last night, mamma, but I did want to do so.'</p>
+<p>'Well, then, my dear, begin at the beginning, for I could not understand your
+letter.'</p>
+<p>'The beginning was, mamma, that we had just come in from our walk, and we
+went out into the schoolroom balcony, because we could see round the corner who
+was coming up the drive. And we began playing at camps, with umbrellas up as
+tents. Ivinghoe, and Alberta, and I. Ivy was general, and I was the sentry, with
+my umbrella shut up, and over my shoulder. I was the only one who knew how to
+present arms. I heard something coming, and called out, 'Who goes there?' and
+Alberta jumped up in such a hurry that the points other tent--her umbrella, I
+mean--scratched my face, and before I could recover arms, over went my umbrella,
+perpendicular, straight smash through the glass of the conservatory, and we
+heard it.'</p>
+<p>'And what did you do? Of course you told!'</p>
+<p>&quot;Oh yes! I jumped up and said, 'I'll go and tell Lady Rotherwood.' I
+knew I must before I got into a fright, and Ivinghoe said I couldn't then, and
+he would speak to his mother and make it easy for me, and Ply says he really
+meant it; but I thought then that's the way the bad ones always get the others
+into concealments and lies. So I wouldn't listen a moment, and I ran down, with
+him after me, saying, 'Hear reason, Mysie.' And I ran full butt up against
+some-body--Lord Ormersfield it was, I found--but I didn't know then. I only said
+something about begging pardon, and dashed on, and opened the door. I saw a
+whole lot of fine people all at five-o'clock tea, but I couldn't stop to get
+more frightened, and I went up straight to Lady Rotherwood and said, 'Please, I
+did it.' Mamma do you think I ought not?&quot;</p>
+<p>'There are such things as fit places and times, my dear. What did she say?'</p>
+<p>&quot;At first she just said, 'My dear, I cannot attend to you now, run
+away;' but then in the midst, a thought seemed to strike her, and she said,
+rather frightened, 'Is any one hurt?' and I said, Oh no; only my umbrella has
+gone right through the roof of the conservatory, and I thought I ought to come
+and tell her directly. 'That was the noise,' said some of the people, and
+everybody got up and went to look. And there were Fly and Ivy, who had got in
+some other way, and the umbrella was sticking right upright in the top of one of
+those palm-trees with leaves like screens, and somebody said it was a new
+development of fruit. Lady Rotherwood asked them what they were doing there, and
+Ivy said they had come to see what harm was done. Dear Fly ran up to her and
+said, 'We were all at play together, mother; it was not one more than another;'
+but Lady Rotherwood only said, 'That's enough, Phyllis, I will come to you
+by-and-by in the schoolroom,' and she would have sent us away if Cousin
+Rotherwood himself had not come in just then, and asked what was the matter. I
+heard some of the answers; they were very odd, mamma. One was, 'A storm of
+umbrellas and of untimely confessions;' and another was, 'Truth in
+undress.'&quot;</p>
+<p>'Oh, my dear? I hope you were fit to be seen?'</p>
+<p>'I forgot about that, mamma, I had taken off my ulster, and had my little
+scarlet flannel underbody, so as to make a better soldier.'</p>
+<p>'Oh!' groaned Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>&quot;And then that dear, good Fly gave a jump and flew at him, and said,
+'Oh, daddy, daddy, it's Mysie, and she has been telling the truth like--like
+Frank, or Sir Thomas More, or George Washington, or anybody.' She really did say
+so, mamma.'</p>
+<p>'I can quite believe it of her, Mysie! And how did Cousin Rotherwood
+respond?'</p>
+<p>'He sat down upon one of the seats, and took Fly on one knee and me on the
+other, though we were big for it--just like papa, you know--and made us tell him
+all about it. Lady Rotherwood got the others out of the way somehow--I don't
+know how, for my back was that way, and I think Ivinghoe went after them, but
+there was some use in talking to Cousin Rotherwood; he has got some sense, and
+knows what one means, as if he was at the dear, nice playing age, and Ivinghoe
+was his stupid old father in a book.'</p>
+<p>'Exactly,' said Lady Merrifield, delighted, and longing to laugh.</p>
+<p>'But that was the worst of it,' said Mysie, sadly; 'he was so nice that I
+said all sorts of things I didn't mean or ought to have said. I told him I would
+pay for the glass if he would only wait till we had helped Dolores pay for those
+books that the cheque was for, because the man came alive again, after her
+wicked uncle said he was dead, and so somehow it all came out; how you made up
+to Miss Constance and couldn't come to the Butterfly's Ball for want of new
+dresses.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, Mysie, you should not have said that! I thought you were to be trusted!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, mamma, I know,' said Mysie, meekly. 'I recollected as soon as I had
+said it; and told him, and he kissed me and promised he would never tell anyone,
+and made Fly promise that she never would. But I have been so miserable about it
+ever since, mamma; I tried to write it in a letter, but I am afraid you didn't
+half understand.'</p>
+<p>'I only saw that something was on your mind, my dear. Now that is all over, I
+do not so much mind Cousin Rotherwood's knowing, he has always been so like a
+brother; but I do hope both he and Fly will keep their word. I am more sorry for
+my little girl's telling than about his knowing.'</p>
+<p>'And Ivinghoe said my running in that way on all the company was worse than
+breaking the glass or the palm-tree. Was it, mamma?'</p>
+<p>'Well, you know, Mysie, there is a time for all things, and very likely it
+vexed Lady Rotherwood more to be invaded by such a little wild colt.'</p>
+<p>'But not Cousin Rotherwood himself, mamma,' said Mysie, 'for he said I was
+quite right, and an honourable little fellow, just like old times. And so I told
+Ivy. And he said in such a way, 'Every one knew what his father was.' So I told
+him his father was ten thousand times nicer than ever he would be if be lived a
+hundred years, and I could not bear him if he talked in that wicked,
+disrespectful way, and Fly kissed me for it, mamma, and said her daddy was worth
+a hundred of such a prig as he was.'</p>
+<p>'My dear, I am afraid neither you nor Fly showed your good manners.'</p>
+<p>'It was only Ivinghoe, mamma, and I'm sure I don't care what he thinks, if he
+could talk of his father in that way. Isn't it what you call
+metallical--no--ironical?'</p>
+<p>'Indeed, Mysie, I don't wonder it made you very angry, and I can't be sorry
+you showed your indignation.'</p>
+<p>'But please, mamma, what ought I to have done about the glass?'</p>
+<p>'I don't quite know; I think a very wise little girl might have gone to
+Cousin Florence's room and consulted her. It would have been better than making
+an explosion before so many people. Florence was kind to you, I hope.'</p>
+<p>'Oh yes, mamma, it was almost like being at home in her room; and she has
+such a dear little house at the end of the park.'</p>
+<p>A good deal more oozed out from Mysie to different auditors at different
+times. By her account everything was delightful, and yet mamma concluded that
+all had not absolutely fulfilled the paradisiacal expectation with which her
+country mouse had viewed Rotherwood from afar. Lady Rotherwood was very kind,
+and so was the governess, and Cousin Florence especially. Cousin Florence's
+house felt just like a bit of home. It really was the dearest little house--and
+fluffy cat and kittens, and the sweetest love birds. It was perfectly delicious
+when they drank tea there, but unluckily she was not allowed to go thither
+without the governess or Louise, as it was all across the park, and a bit of
+village.</p>
+<p>And Fly? Oh, Fly was always dear and good and funny; but there was Alberta to
+be attended to, and other little girls sometimes, and it was not like having her
+here at home; nor was there any making a row in the galleries, nor playing at
+anything really jolly, though the great pillars in the hall seemed made for
+tying cords to make a spider's web. It was always company, except when Cousin
+Rotherwood called them into his den for a little fun. But he had gentlemen to
+entertain most of the time, and the only day that he could have taken them to
+see the farm and the pheasants, Lady Rotherwood said that Phyllis was a little
+hoarse and must not get a cold before the ball.</p>
+<p>And as to the Butterfly's Ball itself? Imagination had depicted a splendid
+realization of the verses, and it was flat to find it merely a children's fancy
+ball, no acting at all, only dancing, and most of the children not attempting
+any characteristic dress, only with some insect attached to head or shoulder;
+nothing approaching to the fun of the rehearsal at Silverton, as indeed Fly had
+predicted. The only attempt at representation had cost Mysie more trouble than
+pleasure, for the training to dance together had been a difficult and wearisome
+business. Two of the grass-hoppers had been greatly displeased about it, and
+called it a beastly shame, words much shocking gentle Mysie from aristocratic
+lips. One of them had been as sulky, angry, and impracticable as possible, just
+like a log, and the other had consoled himself with all manner of tricks,
+especially upon the teacher and on Ivinghoe. He would skip like a real
+grasshopper, he made faces that set all laughing, he tripped Ivinghoe up, he
+uttered saucy speeches that Mysie considered too shocking to repeat, but which
+convulsed every one with laughter, Fly most especially, and her governess had
+punished her for it. 'She would not punish me,' said Mysie, 'though I know I was
+just as bad, and I think that was a shame!' At last the practising had to be
+carried on without the boys, and yet, when it came to the point, both the
+recusants behaved as well and danced as suitably as if they had submitted to the
+training like their sisters! And oh! the dressing, that was worse.</p>
+<p>'I did not think I was so stupid,' said Mysie, 'but I heard Louise tell
+mademoiselle that I was trop bourgeoise, and mademoiselle answered that I was
+plutot petite paysanne, and would never have l'air de distinction.</p>
+<p>'Abominable impertinence!' cried Gillian.</p>
+<p>&quot;They thought I did not understand,' said Mysie, 'and I knew it was fair
+to tell them, so I said, 'Mais non, car je suis la petite souris de
+compagne.'&quot;</p>
+<p>'Well done, Mysie!' cried her sister.</p>
+<p>'They did jump, and Louise began apologizing in a perfect gabble, and
+mademoiselle said I had de l'esprit, but I am sure I did not mean it.'</p>
+<p>'But how could they?' exclaimed Gillian. 'I'm sure Mysie looks like a lady, a
+gentleman's child--I mean as much as Fly or any one else.'</p>
+<p>'I trust you all look like gentlewomen, and are such in refinement and
+manners, but there is an air, which comes partly of birth, partly of breeding,
+and that none of you, except, perhaps, Alethea, can boast of, and about which
+papa and I don't care one rush.'</p>
+<p>'Has Fly got it, mamma?' said Valetta. 'She seemed like one of ourselves.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, yes,' put in Dolores. 'It was what made me think her stuck up. I should
+have known her for a swell anywhere.'</p>
+<p>'I'm sure Fly has no airs!' exclaimed Val, hotly, and Gillian was ready to
+second her; but Lady Merrifield explained. 'The absence of airs is one
+ingredient, Val, both in being ladylike, and in the distinction in which the
+maid justly perceived our Mouse to be deficient. Come, you foolish girls, don't
+look concerned. Nobody but the maid would have ever let Mysie perceive the
+difference.'</p>
+<p>Mysie coloured and answered, 'I don't know; I saw the Fitzhughs look at me at
+first as if they did not think I belonged, and Ivinghoe was always so awfully
+polite that I thought he was laughing at me.'</p>
+<p>'Ivinghoe must be horrid,' broke out Valetta.</p>
+<p>'The Fitzhughs said they would knock it out of him at Eton,' returned Mysie.
+'They got very nice after the first day, and said Fly and I were twice as jolly
+fellows as he was.'</p>
+<p>It further appeared that Mysie had had plenty of partners at the ball, and on
+all occasions her full share of notice, the country neighbours welcoming her as
+her mother's daughter, but most of them saying she was far more like her Aunt
+Phyllis than her own mother. The dancing and excitement so late at night had,
+however, tired her overmuch, she had cramp all the remainder of the night, could
+eat no breakfast the next day, and was quite miserable.</p>
+<p>'I should like to have cried for you, mamma' she said, 'but they were all
+quite used to it, and not a bit tired. However, Cousin Florence came in, and she
+was so kind. She took me to the little west room, and made me lie on the sofa,
+and read to me till I went to sleep, and I was all right after dinner and had a
+ride on Fly's old pony, Dormouse. She has the loveliest new one, all bay, with a
+black mane and tail, called Fairy, but Alberta had that. Oh it was so nice.'</p>
+<p>Altogether Lady Merrifield was satisfied that her little girl had not been
+spoilt for home by her taste of dissipation, though she did not hear the further
+confidence to Dolores in the twilight by the schoolroom fire.</p>
+<p>'Do you know, Dolly, though Fly is such a darling, and they all wanted to be
+kind as well as they knew how, I came to understand how horrid you must have
+felt when you came among the whole lot of us.'</p>
+<p>'But you knew Fly already?'</p>
+<p>'That made it better, but I don't like it. To feel one does not belong, and
+to be afraid to open a door for fear it should be somebody's room, and not quite
+to know who every one is. Oh, dear! it is enough to make anybody cross and
+stupid. Oh, I am so glad to be back again.'</p>
+<p>'I'm sure I am glad you are,' and there was a little kissing match. 'You'll
+always come to my room, won't you? Do you know, when Constance came to luncheon,
+I only shook hands, I wouldn't try to kiss her. Was that unforgiving?'</p>
+<p>'I am sure I couldn't,' said Mysie; 'did she try?'</p>
+<p>'I don't think so; I don't think I ever could kiss her; for I never should
+have said what was not true without her, and that is what makes Uncle Reginald
+so angry still. He would not kiss me even when he went away. Oh, Mysie! that's
+worse than anything,' and Dolores's face contracted with tears very near at
+hand. 'I did always so love Uncle Regie, and he won't forgive me, and father
+will be just the same.'</p>
+<p>'Poor dear, dear Dolly,' said Mysie, hugging her.</p>
+<p>'But you know fathers always forgive, and we will try and make a little
+prayer about it, like the Prodigal Son's, you know.'</p>
+<p>'I don't blow properly,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'I think I can say him,' said Mysie, and the little girls sat with enfolded
+arms, while Mysie reverently went through the parable.</p>
+<p>'But he had been very wicked indeed,' objected Dolores, 'what one calls
+dissipated. Isn't that making too much of such things as girls like us can do.'</p>
+<p>'I don't know,' said Mysie, knitting her young brows; 'you see if we are as
+bad as ever we can be while we are at home, it is really and truly as bad in us
+ourselves as in shocking people that run away, because it shows we might have
+done anything if we had not been taken care of. And the poor son felt as if he
+could not be pardoned, which is just what you do feel.'</p>
+<p>'Aunt Lily forgives me,' said Dolores, wistfully.</p>
+<p>'And your father will, I'm sure,' said Mysie, 'though he is yet a great way
+off. And as to Uncle Regie, I do wish something would happen that you could tell
+the truth about. If you had only broken the palm-tree instead of me, and I
+didn't do right even about that! But if any mischief does happen, or accident, I
+promise you, Dolly, you shall have the telling of it, if you have had ever so
+little to do with it, and then mamma will write to Uncle Regie that you have
+proved yourself truthful.'</p>
+<p>Dolores did not seem much consoled by this curious promise, and Mysie's
+childishness suddenly gave way to something deeper. 'I suppose,' she said, 'if
+one is true, people find it out and trust one.'</p>
+<p>'People can't see into one,' said Dolly.</p>
+<p>'Mamma says there is a bright side and a dark side from which to look at
+everybody and everything,' said Mysie.</p>
+<p>'I know that,' said Dolores; 'I looked at the dark side of you all when I
+came here.'</p>
+<p>'Some day,' said Mysie, 'your bright side will come round to Uncle Regie, as
+it has to us, you dear, dear old Dolly.'</p>
+<p>'But do you know, Mysie,' whispered Dolores, in her embrace, 'there's
+something more dreadful that I'm very much afraid of. Do you know there hasn't
+been a letter from father since he was staying with Aunt Phyllis--not to me, nor
+Aunt Jane, nor anybody!'</p>
+<p>'Well, he couldn't write when he was at sea, I mean there wasn't any post.'</p>
+<p>'It would not take so long as this to get to Fiji; and besides. Uncle Regie
+telegraphed to ask about that dreadful cheque, and there hasn't been any answer
+at all.'</p>
+<p>'Perhaps he is gone about sailing somewhere in the Pacific Ocean; I heard
+Uncle William saying so to Cousin Rotherwood.' He said, 'Maurice is not a fellow
+to resist a cruise.'</p>
+<p>'Then they are thinking about it. They are anxious.'</p>
+<p>'Not very,' said Mysie, 'for they think he is sure to be gone on a cruise.
+They said something about his going down like a carpenter into the deep sea.'</p>
+<p>'Making deep-sea soundings, like Dr. Carpenter! A carpenter, indeed!' said
+Dolores, laughing for a moment. 'Oh! if it is that, I don't mind.'</p>
+<p>The weight was lifted, but by-and-by, when the two girls said their prayers
+together, poor Dolores broke forth again, ' Oh, Mysie, Mysie, your papa has
+all--all of you, besides mamma, to pray that he may be kept safe, and my father
+has only me, only horrid me, to pray for him, and even I have never cared to do
+it really till just lately! Oh, poor, poor father! And suppose he should be
+drowned, and never, never have forgiven me!'</p>
+<p>It was a trouble and misery that recurred night after night, though
+apparently it weighed much less during the day--and nobody but Mysie knew how
+much Dolores was suffering from it. Lady Merrifield was increasingly anxious as
+time went on, and still no mail brought letters from Mr. Mohun, but confidence
+based on his erratic habits, and the uncertainty of communication began to fail.
+And as she grieved more for the possible loss, she became more and more tender
+to her niece, and strange to say, in spite of the terror that gnawed so achingly
+every night, and of the ordeal that the Lent Assizes would bring, Dolores was
+happier and more peaceful than ever before at Silverton, and developed more of
+her bright side.</p>
+<p>'I really think,' wrote Lady Merrifield to Miss Mohun, 'that she is growing
+more simple and child-like, poor little maid. She is apparently free from all
+our apprehensions about dear Maurice, and I would not inspire her with them for
+the world. Neither does she seem to dread the trial, as I do for her, nor to
+guess what cross-examination may be. Constance Hacket has been subpoenaed, and
+her sister expatiates on her nervousness. It is one comfort that Reginald must
+be there as a witness, so that it is not in the power of Irish disturbances to
+keep him from us! May we only be at ease about Maurice by that time!'</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XXI.<br>
+IN COURT AND OUT.</h3>
+
+<p>How Dolores's heart beat when Colonel Mohun drove up to the door! She durst
+not run out to greet him among her cousins; but stood by her aunt, feeling hot
+and cold and trembling, in the doubt whether he would kiss her.</p>
+<p>Yes, she did feel his kiss, and Mysie looked at her in congratulation. But
+what did it mean? Was it only that it came as a matter of course, and he forgot
+to withhold it, or was it that he had given up hopes of her father, and was
+sorry for her? She could not make up her mind, for he came so late in the
+evening that she scarcely saw him before bed-time, and he did not take any
+special notice of her the next morning. He had done his best to save her from
+being long detained at Darminster, by ascertaining as nearly as possible when
+Flinders's case would come on, and securing a room at the nearest inn, where she
+might await a summons into court. Lady Merrifield was going with them, but would
+not take either of her daughters, thinking that every home eye would be an
+additional distress, and that it was better that no one should see or remember
+Dolores as a witness.</p>
+<p>Miss Mohun met the party at the station, going off, however, with her brother
+into court, after having established Lady Merrifield and her niece in an inn
+parlour, where they kept as quiet as they could, by the help of knitting, and
+reading aloud. Lady Merrifield found that Dolores had been into court before,
+and knew enough about it to need no explanation or preparation, and being much
+afraid of causing agitation, she thought it best only to try to interest her in
+such tales as 'Neale's Triumphs of the Cross,' instead of letting her dwell on
+what she most dreaded, the sight of the prisoner, and the punishment her words
+might bring upon him.</p>
+<p>The morning ended, and Uncle Reginald brought word that his case would come
+on immediately after luncheon. This he shared with his sister and niece, saying
+that Jane had gone to a pastrycook's with--with Rotherwood--thinking this best
+for Dolly. He seemed to be in strangely excited spirits, and was quite his old
+self to Dolores, tempting her to eat, and showing himself so entirely the kind
+uncle that she would have been quite cheered up if she had not been afraid that
+it was all out of pity, and that he knew something dreadful.</p>
+<p>Lord Rotherwood met them at the hotel entrance, and took his cousin on his
+arm; Dolores following with her uncle, was sure that she gave a great start at
+something that he said; but she had to turn in a</p>
+<p>different direction to wait under the charge of her uncle, who treated her as
+if she were far more childish and inexperienced in the ways of courts than she
+really was, and instructed her in much that she knew perfectly well; but it was
+too comfortable to have him kind to her for her to take the least offence, and
+she only said 'Yes' and 'Thank you' at the proper places.</p>
+<p>The sheriff, meantime, had given Lord Rotherwood and Lady Merrifield seats
+near the judge, where Miss Mohun was already installed. Alfred Flinders was
+already at the bar, and for the first time Lady Merrifield saw his somewhat
+handsome but shifty-looking face and red beard, as the counsel for the
+prosecution was giving a detailed account of his embarrassed finances, and of
+his having obtained from the inexperienced kindness of a young lady, a mere
+child in age, who called him uncle, though without blood relationship, a draft
+of her father's for seven pounds, which, when presented at the bank, had become
+one for seventy.</p>
+<p>As before, the presenting and cashing of the seventy pounds was sworn to by
+the banker's clerk, and then Dolores Mary Mohun was called.</p>
+<p>There she stood, looking smaller than usual in her black, close-fitting dress
+and hat, in a place meant for grown people, her dark face pale and set, keeping
+her eyes as much as she could from the prisoner. When the counsel spoke she gave
+a little start, for she knew him, as one who had often spent an evening with her
+parents, in the cheerful times while her mother lived. There was something in
+the familiar glance of his eyes that encouraged her, though he looked so much
+altered by his wig and gown, and it seemed strange that he should question her,
+as a stranger, on her exact name and age, her father's absence, the connection
+with the prisoner, and present residence. Then came:</p>
+<p>'Did your father leave any money with you?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'What was the amount?'</p>
+<p>'Five pounds for myself; seven besides.'</p>
+<p>'In what form was the seven pounds?'</p>
+<p>'A cheque from W.'s bank.'</p>
+<p>'Did you part with it?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>'To whom?'</p>
+<p>'I sent it to him.'</p>
+<p>'To whom if you please?'</p>
+<p>'To Mr. Alfred Flinders.' And her voice trembled.</p>
+<p>'Can you tell me when you sent it away?'</p>
+<p>'It was on the 22nd of December.'</p>
+<p>'Is this the cheque?'</p>
+<p>'It has been altered.'</p>
+<p>'Explain in what manner?'</p>
+<p>'There has 'ty' been put at the end of the written 'seven,' and a cipher
+after the figure 7 making it 70.'</p>
+<p>'You are sure that it was not so when it went out of your possession?'</p>
+<p>'Perfectly sure.'</p>
+<p>Mr. Calderwood seemed to have done with her, and said, 'Thank you;' but then
+there stood up a barrister, whom she suspected of being a man her mother had
+disliked, and she knew that the worst was coming when he said, in a specially
+polite voice too, 'Allow me to ask whether the cheque in question had been
+intended by Mr. Mohun for the prisoner?'</p>
+<p>'No.'</p>
+<p>'Or was it given to you as pocket-money?'</p>
+<p>'No, it was to pay a bill.'</p>
+<p>'Then did you divert it from that purpose?'</p>
+<p>'I thought the man was dead.'</p>
+<p>'What man?'</p>
+<p>'Professor Muhlwasser.'</p>
+<p>'The creditor?'</p>
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+<p>Mr. Calderwood objected to these questions as irrelevant; but the prisoner's
+counsel declared them to be essential, and the judge let him go on to extract
+from Dolores that the payment was intended for an expensive illustrated work on
+natural history, which was to be published in Germany. Her father had promised
+to take two copies of it if it were completed; but being doubtful whether this
+would ever be the case, he had preferred leaving a draft with her to letting the
+account be discharged by his brother, and he had reckoned that seven pounds
+would cover the expense.</p>
+<p>'You say you supposed the author was dead. What reason had you for thinking
+so?'</p>
+<p>'He told me; Mr. Flinders did.'</p>
+<p>'Had Mr. Mohun sanctioned your applying this sum to any other purpose than
+that specified?'</p>
+<p>'No, he had not. I did wrong,' said Dolores, firmly.</p>
+<p>He wrinkled up his forehead, so that the point of his wig went upwards, and
+proceeded to inquire whether she had herself given the cheque to the prisoner.</p>
+<p>'I sent it.'</p>
+<p>'Did you post it?'</p>
+<p>'Not myself. I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send it for me.'</p>
+<p>'Can you swear to the sum for which it was drawn when you parted with it?'</p>
+<p>'Yes. I looked at it to see whether it was pounds or guineas.'</p>
+<p>'Did you give it loose or in an envelope?'</p>
+<p>'In an envelope.'</p>
+<p>'Was any other person aware of your doing so?'</p>
+<p>'Nobody.'</p>
+<p>'What led you to make this advance to the prisoner?'</p>
+<p>'Because he told me that he was in great distress.'</p>
+<p>'He told you. By letter or in person?'</p>
+<p>'In person.'</p>
+<p>'When did he tell you so?'</p>
+<p>'On the 22nd of December.'</p>
+<p>'And where?'</p>
+<p>'At Darminster.'</p>
+<p>'Let me ask whether this interview at Darminster took place with the
+knowledge of the lady with whom you reside?'</p>
+<p>'No, it did not,' said Dolores, colouring deeply.</p>
+<p>'Was it a chance meeting?'</p>
+<p>'No--by appointment.'</p>
+<p>'How was the appointment made?'</p>
+<p>'We wrote to say we would come that day.'</p>
+<p>'We--who was the other party?'</p>
+<p>'Miss Constance Hacket.'</p>
+<p>'You were then in correspondence with the prisoner. Was it with the sanction
+of Lady Merrifield?'</p>
+<p>'No.'</p>
+<p>'A secret correspondence, then, romantically carried on--by what means?'</p>
+<p>'Constance Hacket sent the letters and received them for me.'</p>
+<p>'What was the motive for this arrangement?'</p>
+<p>'I knew my aunt would prevent my having anything to do with him.'</p>
+<p>'And you--excuse me--what interest had you in doing so?'</p>
+<p>'My mother had been like his sister, and always helped him.'</p>
+<p>All these answers were made with a grave, resolute straightforwardness,
+generally with something of Dolores's peculiar stony look, and only twice was
+there any involuntary token of feeling, when she blushed at confessing the
+concealment from her aunt, and at the last question, when her voice trembled as
+she spoke of her mother. She kept her eyes on her interrogators all the time,
+never once glancing towards the prisoner, though all the time she had a
+sensation as if his reproachful looks were piercing her through.</p>
+<p>She was dismissed, and Constance Hacket was brought in, looking about in
+every direction, carrying a handkerchief and scent bottle, and not attempting to
+conceal her flutter of agitation.</p>
+<p>Mr. Calderwood had nothing to ask her but about her having received the
+cheque from Miss Mohun and forwarded it to Flinders, though she could not answer
+for the date without a public computation back from Christmas Day, and forward
+from St. Thomas's. As to the amount--</p>
+<p>'Oh, yes, certainly, seven pounds.'</p>
+<p>Moreover she had posted it herself.</p>
+<p>Then came the cross-examination,</p>
+<p>'Had she seen the draft before posting it?'</p>
+<p>'Well--she really did not remember exactly.'</p>
+<p>'How did she know the amount then?'</p>
+<p>'Well, I think--yes--I think Dolores told me so.'</p>
+<p>'You think,' he said, in a sort of sneer. 'On your oath. Do you know?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, yes, yes. She assured me! I know something was said about seven.'</p>
+<p>'Then you cannot swear to the contents of the envelope you forwarded?'</p>
+<p>'I don't know. It was all such a confusion and hurry.'</p>
+<p>'Why so?'</p>
+<p>'Oh! because it was a secret.'</p>
+<p>The counsel of course availed himself of this handle to elicit that the
+witness had conducted a secret correspondence between the prisoner and her young
+friend without the knowledge of the child's natural protectors. 'A perfect
+romance,' he said, 'I believe the prisoner is unmarried.'</p>
+<p>Perhaps this insinuation would have been checked, but before any one had time
+to interfere, Constance, blushing crimson, exclaimed, 'Oh! Oh! I assure you it
+was not that. It was because she said he was her uncle and that they ill-used
+him.'</p>
+<p>This brought upon her the searching question whether the last witness had
+stated the prisoner to be really her uncle, and Constance replied, rather hotly,
+that she had always understood that he was.</p>
+<p>'In fact, she gave you to understand that the prisoner was actually related
+to her by blood. Did you say that she also told you that he was persecuted or
+ill-used by her other relations?'</p>
+<p>'I thought so. Yes, I am sure she said so.'</p>
+<p>'And it was wholly and solely on these grounds that you assisted in this
+clandestine correspondence?'</p>
+<p>'Why--yes--partly,' faltered Constance, thinking of her literary efforts, 'so
+it began.'</p>
+<p>There was a manifest inclination to laugh in the audience, who naturally
+thought her hesitation implied something very different; and the judge, thinking
+that there was no need to push her further, when Mr. Calderwood represented that
+all this did not bear on the matter, and was no evidence, silenced Mr. Yokes,
+and the witness was dismissed.</p>
+<p>The next point was that Colonel Reginald Mohun was called upon to attest that
+the handwriting was his brother's. He answered for the main body of the draft,
+and the signature, but the additions, in which the forgery lay, were so slight
+that it was impossible to swear that they did not come from the hand of Maurice
+Mohun.</p>
+<p>'Had application been made to Mr. Mohun on the subject?'</p>
+<p>'Yes, Colonel Mohun had immediately telegraphed to him at the address in the
+Fiji Islands.'</p>
+<p>'Has any answer been received?'</p>
+<p>'No!' but Colonel Mohun had a curious expression in his eyes, and Mr.
+Calderwood electrified the court by begging to call upon Mr. Maurice Mohun.</p>
+<p>There he was in the witness-box, looking sunburnt but vigorous. He replied
+immediately to the question that the cheque was his own, and that it had been
+left under his daughter's charge, also that it had been for seven pounds, and
+the 'ty' and the cypher had never been written by him. The prisoner winced for a
+moment, and then looked at him defiantly.</p>
+<p>The connection with Alfred Flinders was inquired into and explained, and
+being asked as to the term 'Uncle,' he replied, 'My daughter was allowed to get
+into the habit of so terming him.'</p>
+<p>The sisters saw his look of pain, and Jane remembered his strong objection to
+the title, and his wife's indignant defence of it.</p>
+<p>Dolores stood trembling outside in the waiting-room, by her Uncle Reginald,
+from whom she heard that her father had come that morning from London with Lord
+Rotherwood, but that it had been thought better not to agitate her by letting
+her know of it before she gave her evidence.</p>
+<p>'Has he had my letter?' she asked.</p>
+<p>'No; he knew nothing till he saw Rotherwood last night.'</p>
+<p>All the misery of writing the confession came back upon poor Dolores, and she
+turned quite white and sick, but her uncle said kindly, 'Never mind, my dear, he
+was very much pleased with your manner of giving evidence. Such a contrast to
+your friend's. Faugh!'</p>
+<p>In a few more seconds Mr. Mohun had come out. He took the cold, trembling
+hands in his own, pressed them close, met the anxious eyes with his own, full of
+moisture, and said, 'My poor little girl,' in a tone that somehow lightened
+Dolly's heart of its worst dread.</p>
+<p>'Will you go back into court?' asked the colonel.</p>
+<p>'You don't wish it, Dolly?' said her father.</p>
+<p>'Oh no! please not.'</p>
+<p>'Then,' said the colonel, 'take your father back to the room at the hotel,
+and we will come to you. I suppose this will not last much longer.'</p>
+<p>'Probably not half an hour. I don't want to see that fellow either convicted
+or acquitted.'</p>
+<p>Then Dolores found herself steered out of the passages and from among the
+people waiting or gazing, into the clearer space in the street, her father
+holding her hand as if she had been a little child. Neither of them spoke till
+they had reached the sitting-room, and there, the first thing he did when the
+door was shut, was to sit down, take her between his knees, put an arm round
+her, and kiss her, saying again, 'My poor child!'</p>
+<p>'You never got my letter!' she said, leaning against him, feeling the peace
+and rest his embrace gave.</p>
+<p>'No; but I have heard all. I should have warned you, Dolly; but I never
+imagined that he could get at you there; and I was unwilling to accuse one for
+whom your mother had a certain affection.'</p>
+<p>'That was why I helped him,' whispered Dolores.</p>
+<p>'I knew it,' he said kindly. 'But how did he find you out, and how had he the
+impertinence to write to you at your Aunt Lily's--'</p>
+<p>'I wrote to him first,' she said, hanging down her head.</p>
+<p>'How was that? You surely had not been in the habit of doing so whilst I was
+at home.'</p>
+<p>'No; but he came and spoke to me at Exeter, the day you went away. Uncle
+William was not there, he had gone into the town. And he--Mr. Flinders, said he
+was going down to see you, and was very much disappointed to hear that you were
+gone.'</p>
+<p>'Did he ask you to write to him?'</p>
+<p>'I don't think he did. Father, it seems too silly now, but I was very angry
+because Aunt Lilias said she must see all my letters except yours and Maude
+Sefton's, and I told Constance Hacket. She said she would send anything for me,
+and I could not think of any one I wanted to write to, so I wrote to--to him.'</p>
+<p>'Ah! I saw you did not get on with your aunt,' was the answer, 'that was
+partly what brought me home.' And either not hearing or not heeding her
+exclamation, 'Oh, but now I do,' he went on to explain that on his arrival at
+Fiji he had found that circumstances had altered there, and that the person with
+whom he was to have been associated had died, so that the whole scheme had been
+broken up. A still better appointment had, however, been offered to him in New
+Zealand, on the resignation of the present holder after a half-year's notice,
+and he had at once written to accept it. A proposal had been made to him to
+spend the intermediate time in a scientific cruise among the Polynesian Islands;
+but the letters he had found awaiting him at Vanua Levu had convinced him that
+the arrangements he had made in England had been a mistake, and he had therefore
+hurried home via San Francisco, as fast as any letter could have gone, to wind
+up his English affairs, and fetch his daughter to the permanent home in
+Auckland, which her Aunt Phyllis would prepare for her.</p>
+<p>Her countenance betrayed a sudden dismay, which made him recollect that she
+was a strangely undemonstrative girl; but before she had recovered the shock so
+as to utter more than a long 'Oh!' they were interrupted by the cup of tea that
+had been ordered for Dolores, and in a minute more, steps were heard, and the
+two aunts were in the room. 'Seven years,' were Jane's first words, and 'My dear
+Maurice,' Lady Merrifield's, 'Oh! I wish I could have spared you this,' and then
+among greetings came again, 'Seven years,' from the brother and cousin who had
+seen the traveller before.</p>
+<p>'I'm glad you were not there, Maurice,' said Lady Merrifield. 'It was
+dreadful.'</p>
+<p>'I never saw a more insolent fellow!' said Lord Rotherwood.</p>
+<p>'That Yokes, you mean,' said Miss Mohun. 'I declare I think he is worse than
+Flinders!'</p>
+<p>'That's like you women, Jenny,' returned the colonel; 'you can't understand
+that a man's business is to get off his client!'</p>
+<p>'When he gave him up as an honest man altogether!' cried Lady Merrifield.</p>
+<p>'And cast such imputations!' exclaimed Aunt Jane. 'I saw what the wretch was
+driving at all the time of the cross-examination; and if I'd been the judge,
+would not I have stopped him?'</p>
+<p>'There you go. Lily and Jenny!' said the colonel, 'and Rotherwood just as
+bad! Why, Maurice would have had to take just the same line if he had been for
+the defence.'</p>
+<p>'He would not have done it in such a blackguard fashion though,' said Lord
+Rotherwood.</p>
+<p>'I saw what his defence would be,' said Mr. Mohun, briefly.</p>
+<p>'There!' said Colonel Mohun, with a boyish pleasure in confuting his sisters;
+but they were not subdued.</p>
+<p>'Now Maurice,' cried Jane, 'when that man was known to be utterly
+dishonourable and good for nothing, was it fair--was it not contrary to all
+common sense--to try to cast the imputation between those two poor girls? So the
+judge and jury felt it, I am happy to say! but I call it abominable to have
+thrown out the mere suggestion--'</p>
+<p>'Nay now, Jane,' said the colonel, 'if the man was to be defended at all, how
+else was it to be done?'</p>
+<p>'I wouldn't have had him defended at all! but, unfortunately, that's his
+right as an Englishman.'</p>
+<p>'That's another thing! But as the cheque did not alter itself, one of the
+three must have done it, and nothing was left but to show that there had been an
+amount of shuffling, and--in short, nonsense--that might cast enough doubt on
+their evidence to make it insufficient for a conviction.'</p>
+<p>'Reginald! I can't think how you can stand up for such a wretch, a vulgar
+wretch,' cried Miss Mohun. 'You put it delicately, as a gentleman who had the
+misfortune to be counsel in such a case might do, but he was infinitely worse
+than that, though that was bad enough.'</p>
+<p>'It was Yokes,' put in Mr. Mohun; 'but what did he say?' looking anxiously at
+his daughter.</p>
+<p>'It was not so bad about her,' said her uncle, 'he only made her out a
+foolish child, easily played upon by everybody, and possibly ignorant and
+frightened, or led away by her regard for her supposed relation. It was the
+other poor girl--</p>
+<p>'The amiable susceptibilities of romantic young ladies!' broke out Lady
+Merrifield. 'Oh, the creature!' To think of that poor foolish Constance sitting
+by to hear it represented that the expedition to Darminster, and all the rest of
+it, was because she was actually touched by that fellow. I really felt ready to
+take her part.'</p>
+<p>'She had certainly brought it on herself,' said Aunt Jane; 'but it was
+atrocious of him and if the other counsel had only known it, he stopped the
+cross examination just at the wrong time, or it would have come out that it was
+literary vanity that was the lure. No doubt he would have made a laughing-stock
+of that, but it would not have been as bad as the other.'</p>
+<p>'Poor thing,' said Lady Merrifield; 'it was a trying retribution for
+schoolgirl folly and want of conscientiousness. I should think she was a sadder
+and a wiser woman.'</p>
+<p>'He must have overdone it,' said Mr. Mohun, 'he is a vulgar fellow, and
+always does so; but, as Reginald says, the only available defence was to enhance
+the folly and sentiment of the girls; but of course the judge charged the other
+way--</p>
+<p>'Entirely,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'he brought Dolly rather well out of it,
+saying that as he understood it, a young girl who had seen a needy connection
+assisted from her home might think herself justified in corresponding with him,
+and even in diverting to his use money left in her charge, when it was probable
+that it would not be required for the original object. He did not say it was
+right, but it was an error of judgment by no means implying swindling--in fact.
+He disposed of Miss Hacket in the same way--foolish, sentimental, unscrupulous,
+but not to that degree. Girls might be silly enough in all conscience, but not
+so as to commit forgery or perjury. That was the gist of it, and happily the
+jury were of the same opinion.'</p>
+<p>'Happily? Well, I suppose so,' said Mr. Mohun, with a certain sorrowfulness
+of tone, into which his little daughter entered.</p>
+<p>'I say, Rotherwood,' exclaimed the colonel, as the town clock's two strokes
+for the half-hour echoed loudly, 'if you mean to catch the 4.50, you must fly.'</p>
+<p>'Fly!' he coolly repeated. 'Tell Mysie, Lily, that Fly has never ceased
+talking of her. That child has been saving her money to fit out one of
+Florence's orphan's. She--'</p>
+<p>'Rotherwood,' broke in Mr. Mohun, 'your wife charged me to see that you were
+in time for that dinner. A ministerial one.'</p>
+<p>'Don't encourage him, Lily,' chimed in the colonel. 'I'll call a cab. See him
+safe off, Maurice.'</p>
+<p>And off he was hunted amid the laughter of the ladies; the manner of all to
+one another was so exactly what it had been in the old times.</p>
+<p>'I could hardly help telling him to take care, or Victoria would never let
+him out again,' said Miss Mohun. 'Poor old fellow, it would have been a fine
+chance for him with four of us together.'</p>
+<p>'You can come back with us, Jenny!'</p>
+<p>'I brought my bag in case of accidents.'</p>
+<p>'And we'll telegraph to Adeline to join us tomorrow,' said Mr. Mohun, who
+seemed to have been seized with a hunger for the sight of his kindred.</p>
+<p>'Telegraph! My dear Maurice, Ada's nerves would be torn to smithereens by a
+telegram without me to open it for her. I've a card here to post to her; but I
+expect that I must go down tomorrow and fetch her, which will be the best way,
+for I have a meeting.'</p>
+<p>'Jenny, I declare you are a caution even to Miss Hacket,' said Colonel
+Reginald, re-entering.</p>
+<p>'Well, Ada always was the family pet. Besides, I told you I had a G.F.S.
+meeting. Did you get a cab for us; Lily has had quite walking enough.'</p>
+<p>The ladies went in a cab, while the gentlemen walked. There was not much time
+to spare, and in the compartment into which the first comers threw themselves,
+they found both the Hacket sisters installed, and the gentlemen coming up in
+haste, nodded and got into a smoking-carriage, on seeing how theirs was
+occupied.</p>
+<p>'Oh, we could have made room,' said Constance, to whom a gentleman was a
+gentleman under whatever circumstances.</p>
+<p>'Dear Miss Dolores's papa! Is it indeed?' said Miss Hacket.</p>
+<p>'So wonderfully interesting,' chimed in Constance. And they both made a dart
+at Dolores to kiss her in congratulation, much against her will.</p>
+<p>The train clattered on, and Lady Merrifield hoped it would hush all other
+voices, but neither of the Hackets could refrain from discussing the trial, and
+heaping such unmitigated censure on the counsel for the prisoner, that Miss
+Mohun felt herself constrained to fly in the face of all she had said at the
+hotel, and to maintain the right of even such an Englishman to be defended, and
+of his advocate to prevent his conviction if possible. On which the regular
+sentiment against becoming lawyers was produced, and the subject might have been
+dropped if Constance had not broken out again, as if she could not leave it. 'So
+atrocious, so abominably insolent, asking if he was unmarried.'</p>
+<p>'Evidently flattered!' muttered Aunt Jane, between her teeth, and unheard;
+but the speed slackened, and Constance's voice went on,</p>
+<p>'I really thought I should have died of it on the spot. The bare idea of
+thinking I could endure such a being.'</p>
+<p>'Well,' said Dolores, just as the clatter ceased at a little station. 'You
+know you did walk up and down with him ever so long, and I am sure you liked him
+very much.'</p>
+<p>An indignant 'You don't understand' was absolutely cut off by an imperative
+grasp and hush from Miss Hacket the elder; Aunt Jane was suffocating with
+laughter, Lady Merrifield, between that and a certain shame for womanhood, which
+made her begin to talk at random about anything or everything else.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XXII.<br>
+NAY.</h3>
+
+<p>'What a mull they have made of it!' were Mr. Maurice Mohun's first words when
+he found the compartment free for a tete-a-tete with his brother.</p>
+<p>'All's well that ends well,' was the brief reply.</p>
+<p>'Well, indeed! Mary would not have thought so.' To which the colonel had
+nothing to say.</p>
+<p>'It serves me out,' his brother went on presently. 'I ought to have done
+something for that wretched fellow before I went, or, at any rate, have put
+Dolly on her guard; but I always shirked the very thought of him.'</p>
+<p>'Nothing would have kept him out of harm's way.'</p>
+<p>'It might have kept the child; but she must have been thicker with him than I
+ever knew. However I shall have her with me for the future, and in better
+hands.'</p>
+<p>'You really mean to take her out?'</p>
+<p>'That's what brought me home. She isn't happy; that is plain from her
+letters; and Jane does not know what to make of her, nor Lilias either.'</p>
+<p>'When were your last letters dated?'</p>
+<p>'The last week in September.'</p>
+<p>'Early days,' muttered the colonel.</p>
+<p>'I thought it an experiment, you know; but you said so much about Lily's
+girls being patterns, that I thought Jasper Merrifield might have made her more
+rational and less flighty, and all that sort of thing; but of course it was a
+very different tone from what the child was used to, and you couldn't tell what
+the young barbarians were out of sight.'</p>
+<p>'So I began to think last winter; but I fancy you will find that she and Lily
+understand one another a good deal better than they did at first.'</p>
+<p>'I thought she did not receive my intelligence as a deliverance. I am glad if
+she can carry away an affectionate remembrance, but I want to have her under my
+own eye.'</p>
+<p>'I suppose that's all right,' was the half reluctant reply.</p>
+<p>'There's Phyllis. She is full of good sense, with no nonsense about her or
+May, and her girls are downright charming.'</p>
+<p>'Very likely; but I say, Maurice, you must not underrate Lilias. She has gone
+through a good deal with Dolores, and I believe she has been the making of her.
+You've had to leave the poor child a good deal to herself and Fraulein, and, as
+you see by this affair, she had some ways that made it hard for Lily to deal
+with her at first.'</p>
+<p>Her father plainly did not like this. 'There was no harm in the poor child,
+but as I should have foreseen, there's always an atmosphere of sentiment and
+ritual and flummery about Lilias, totally different from what she was used to.'</p>
+<p>Colonel Mohun had nearly said, 'So much the better,' but turned it into, 'I
+think you will change your opinion.'</p>
+<p>Brothers and sisters, and cousins, whatever they may be to the external
+world, always remain relatively to each other pretty much as they knew one
+another when a single home held them all. The familiar Christian names seemed to
+revive the old ways, and it was amusing to see the somewhat grave and silent
+colonel treated by his elder brother as the dashing, heedless boy, needing to be
+looked after, while his sister Jane remained the ready helper and counsellor,
+and Lady Merrifield was still in his eyes the unpractical, fanciful Lily with an
+unfortunately suggestive rhyme to her name.</p>
+<p>Perhaps it maintained him in this opinion, that when he had answered all
+questions about Captain and Mrs. Harry May, and had dilated on their pretty
+house in the suburbs of Auckland, his sisters expected him to tell of the work
+of the Church among the Maoris and Fijians. He laughed at them for thinking
+colonists troubled their heads about natives.</p>
+<p>'I know Phyllis does. One of Harry May's brothers went out as a missionary.'</p>
+<p>'Disenchanted and came home again when his wife came into a fortune.'</p>
+<p>'Not a bit of it,' said Aunt Jane. 'I know him and all about him. He stayed
+till his health broke, and now he is one of the most useful men in the country.
+He is coming to speak for the S.P.G. at Rockquay, Lily; and you must come and
+meet him and his charming wife. They will tell you a very different story about
+Harry's doings.'</p>
+<p>'Well,' allowed Mr. Mohun, 'there are apparitions of brown niggers done up as
+smart as twopence prancing about the house. Perfectly uninteresting, you know,
+the savage sophisticated out of his picturesqueness. I made a point of asking no
+questions, not knowing what I might be let in for.'</p>
+<p>'Then you heard nothing of Mr. Ward, the Melanesian missionary, whom Phyllis
+keeps a room for when he comes to New Zealand to recruit.'</p>
+<p>'The man who was convicted of murder on circumstantial evidence! Oh yes. I
+heard of him. I believe the labour-traffic agents heartily wish him at Portland
+still, he makes the natives so much too sharp.'</p>
+<p>'Aye,' said the colonel, 'as long as Britons aren't slaves they have no
+objection to anything but the name for other people.'</p>
+<p>'Wait till you get out there, Regie, and see what they all say about those
+lazy fellows--except, of course, ladies and parsons, and a few whom they've
+bitten, like May.'</p>
+<p>'The few are on the Christian side, of course,' said Lady Merrifield, with
+irony in her tone.</p>
+<p>Indeed, she was not at all sure that half this colonial prejudice was not
+assumed in order to tease her, just as in former times her brother would make
+game of her enthusiasms about school children; for he was altogether returned to
+his old self, his sister Jane, who had seen the most of him, testifying that the
+original Maurice had revived, as never in the course of his married life.</p>
+<p>Dolores tried to forget or disbelieve the words she had heard about his
+having come to fetch her away, and said no word about them until they had been
+unmistakably repeated. Then she felt a sort of despair at the idea of being
+separated from her aunt and Mysie, for indeed they had penetrated to affections
+deeper than had ever been consciously stirred in her before. Yet she was old
+enough to shrink from allowing to her father that she preferred staying with
+them to going with him, and it was to her Aunt Jane that she had recourse. That
+lady, after returning from her expedition to bring her sister Adeline to
+Silverton, was surprised by a timid knock at the door, and Dolores's entrance.</p>
+<p>'Oh, if you please, Aunt Jane, may I come in? I do so want to speak to you
+alone. Don't you think it is a sad pity that I should go away from the Cambridge
+examination? Could not you tell my father so?'</p>
+<p>'You want to stay for the Cambridge examination,' said Aunt Jane, a little
+amused at the manner of touching on the subject, though sorry for the girl.</p>
+<p>'I have been taking great pains under Miss Vincent, and it does seem a pity
+to miss it.'</p>
+<p>'I don't think it will make much difference to you.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, but I do want to be thoroughly well educated. I meant to go through them
+all, like Gillian and Mysie, and I am sure father must wish it too. I know he
+meant it when he went out last year.'</p>
+<p>'Yes, he did,' said Miss Mohun. 'It was very unlucky that he did not get any
+of our later letters.'</p>
+<p>'I have tried to tell him that it is all different now, but he does not seem
+to care,' said Dolores.</p>
+<p>'He has quite made up his mind,' said her aunt.</p>
+<p>'Has he quite?' said Dolores. 'I thought perhaps if you talked to him about
+the examination and the confirmation too--'</p>
+<p>'But, Dolly, you are not going to a heathen country. Your confirmation will
+be as much attended to in New Zealand as here.'</p>
+<p>'Oh, but I should be confirmed with Mysie, and Aunt Lily would read with me,
+and help me!'</p>
+<p>'Yes, I see.'</p>
+<p>'Do please tell him. Aunt Jane. He heeds what you say more than any one. Do
+tell him that the only hope of my being good is if I stay with Aunt Lily just
+these few years!'</p>
+<p>'Ah, Dolly, that is what you really mean and care about--not the Cambridge
+business.'</p>
+<p>'Of course it is. Please tell him, Aunt Jane--somehow I can't--that I was bad
+and foolish when I wrote all the letters he had; but now I know better,
+and--and--I don't want to vex him, but I shall be ever so much better a daughter
+to him if he will leave me with Aunt Lily, to learn some of her goodness'--and
+there were tears in her eyes, for these months had softened her greatly.</p>
+<p>'My poor Dolly!' said Aunt Jane, much more tenderly than she generally spoke.
+'I am very sorry for you. I do think Aunt Lily has been the making of you, and
+that it is very hard that you should have to be uprooted from her, just as you
+had learnt to value her, I will tell your father so; but honestly, I do not
+think it is likely to make him change his mind.'</p>
+<p>Miss Mohun sought her brother out the next day, and told him that they had
+all been waiting in patience when thinking that his daughter's residence at
+Silverton was an unsuccessful experiment. The explosion she had predicted had
+come, and Dolores had been a different creature ever since, owing to Lady
+Merrifield's management of her in the crisis; and she added that the girl was
+most unwilling to leave her aunt, and that she herself thought it would be much
+better to leave her for a few years to the advantages of her present training,
+where her affections had been gained. Mr. Mohun could not see it in the same
+light. The intimacy with Constance Hacket was in his eyes a folly, consequent on
+his sister's passion for Sunday schools and charities; and Jane, being infected
+with the like ardour, he disregarded her explanations. The underhand
+correspondence could not have been carried on without great blindness and
+carelessness, or, at least, injudiciousness, on Lady Merrifield's part, and
+there was no denying that she had trusted to a sense of honour that was
+nonexistent. Nor did he appreciate Jane's argument that the conquest of the
+heart and will had thus been far more thoroughly gained than it would have been
+by constant thwarting and watching. It was hard to forgive such an exposure as
+had taken place, or to believe that it had not been brought about by
+unjustifiable errors, more especially as Lady Merrifield was the first to accuse
+herself of them. Moreover, he had become sensible of a strong natural yearning
+for the presence of his only child, and he had been so much struck with his
+sister Phyllis's family that he sincerely believed himself consulting the girl's
+best interests. He was by no means an irreligious or ungodly man, but he had
+always thought his sister Lilias more or less of an enthusiast, and he did not
+wish to see Dolores the same. Perhaps, indeed, the poor child's manifest
+clinging to her aunt and cousins made him all the more resolute to remove her
+before her affection should be entirely weaned from himself.</p>
+<p>He made his headquarters at Silverton, and during the next two months
+modified his opinions so far as to confess to his sister Jane that Lilias was a
+much more sensible woman than he had believed her, and had her children well in
+hand. He even allowed that Dolores was improved, and owed much to her kindness;
+and when the first sting of the exposure was over, he could see that the
+treatment had been far from injudicious as regarded the girl's own character. He
+was even glad that warm love and friendship had grown up towards her aunt and
+cousins; but all this left his purpose unchanged; although, after the first,
+nothing was said about it, Dolores tried to forget it, and hoped that the sight
+of her going on well and peaceably would convince him of the inexpediency of
+disturbing her. She could not even mention it to Mysie, lest the dread should
+become a reality by being uttered. So no more passed on the subject till it
+became necessary to take her outfit in hand, and he also wished to take her to
+Beechcroft, that the old family home which he regarded with fresh tenderness
+might be impressed on her memory.</p>
+<p>Then, though she never durst directly oppose the fate which he destined for
+her, she surprised him by a violent burst of tears and sobbing, and an entreaty
+that he would not take her away from Aunt Lily and Mysie a moment sooner than
+could be helped.</p>
+<p>She clung to everything, even to the guinea-pigs, and she was the first in
+the Easter holidays to beg for the 'Thorn Fortress.' Indeed, Mysie was a little
+shocked at her grief, as disloyal and unfilial. 'One ought not to mind going
+anywhere with one's father,' she said; 'we all thought it a great honour for
+Phyllis and Alethea.'</p>
+<p>'They are grown up!' said Dolores, 'and Aunt Lily does get into one so! Oh,
+don't say there's Aunt Phyllis. I hate the very name of her.'</p>
+<p>'She must be nice,' said Mysie, 'Whenever the 'grown-ups' are pleased with me
+they say I am getting like her, as if it was the best thing one could be.'</p>
+<p>'But I don't want Mysie old and grown up, I want my Mysie now, as you
+are!--And you'll forget and leave off writing, like Maude Sefton.'</p>
+<p>'Never!' cried Mysie. 'Eight across the world you will always be my own twin
+cousin.'</p>
+<p>The wishes of the girl were so far fulfilled that Lady Merrifield took her to
+London to provide her outfit, and Mysie accompanied them. A room and its
+dressing-room received the three at old Mrs. Merrifield's, and the two cousins
+thought their close quarters ineffably precious.</p>
+<p>Mysie was introduced to Maude Sefton, who seemed entirely unconscious of her
+treachery to friendship. 'One had so little time, and couldn't always be
+writing,' she said, when Dolores reproached her; 'exercises were enough to tire
+out one's hand!'</p>
+<p>They also drank tea with Lady Phyllis Devereux and her governess. Fly could
+not pour forth questions and reminiscences fast enough about all the beloved
+animals at Silverton, not forgetting the little G.F.S. nursemaid, for whom she
+had actually made an apron in her plain-work lessons. Moreover, she deemed
+Dolores's fate most enviable, to be going off with her father to strange
+countries, away from lessons, and masters, and towns. It would be almost as good
+as Leila on the island.</p>
+<p>As to the Beechcroft visit, Mr. and Mrs. Mohun collected all the brothers and
+sisters in England there for a week, and still Mysie and Dolores were allowed to
+be together, squeezed into a corner of Lady Merrifield's room. It was high
+summer, bright and glowing, and so dry, and even the invalidish sisters, Lady
+Henry Gray and Miss Adeline Mohun could not object to the sitting out on the
+lawn, among the dragon-flies, as in days of yore.</p>
+<p>Much of old thought and feeling was then and there taken up again, and it was
+on one of the last evenings of the visit that Mr. Mohun, walking up and down the
+alley with Lady Merrifield, said--</p>
+<p>'Well, Lily, I think my determination to take Dolly away was hasty. I cannot
+leave her now, but if I had understood all that I see at present, I should have
+been both content and grateful to have her among your children. I am afraid I
+have been ungracious.'</p>
+<p>'I never thought so, Maurice. It is quite right that she should be with you,
+and Phyllis will do every-thing for her much better than I.'</p>
+<p>'Poor child! I believe she is very sorry to go,' said Mr. Mohun; 'but, at any
+rate, she will remember Silverton as, I hope, a lasting influence on her life.'</p>
+<p>Dolores truly believed that so it would be, and that her aunt's guidance
+would be always looked back upon as the turning-point of her life.</p>
+<p>'It is my own fault,' she said, as on the last night she clung tearfully to
+Lady Merrifield; 'if I had behaved better I might have gone on just like one of
+your own.'</p>
+<p>'You will still be in my heart like one of my own, dear child,' said Lady
+Merrifield. 'We know the way in which we all can hold together as one; keep to
+that, and the distance apart will matter the less.'</p>
+<p>And as they watched Dolores and her father driven away to the station the
+next morning, Jane Mohun laid her hand on her sister's arm and said, 'You
+thought you had made a great failure. Lily, but is not the other side of a
+failure often a success?'</p>
+<p>By-and-by came letters from Dolores. She seemed after the first to have
+enjoyed her journey, for, as she wrote to Lady Merrifield, in a letter, very
+private, and all to her own self, 'Father was so very good and kind to me, I
+don't know how to tell you. It was as if a little bit of mother had got into
+him, and now I am here I think I shall like the Mays. Indeed, I am trying to
+remember your advice, and not beginning by hating everybody and thinking who
+they are not. Aunt Phyllis is very nice indeed, and sometimes her eyes and mouth
+get like Mysie's, and her voice is just exactly yours. Only she is plump and
+roundabout, not a dear, tall, graceful figure like my White Lily Aunt. Please
+don't call it nonsense, for indeed I mean it, and Aunt Phyllis does like your
+photograph so much. I have the whole group hung up in my room, and you over it,
+and I wish you all good morning every day, for I never, never, as long as I
+live, shall love anybody like you and Mysie.'</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+<pre>
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge
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