Modern Broods

sit up in a dainty dressing-gown, and submit to treatment not quite that of a hairdresser, but made as lively as could be by little jokes and kindly apologies at any extra hard pull at the knots, which really seemed 'as if a witch had twined them;' and the two began to feel well acquainted with each other over the operation, though Vera was somewhat impressed when she observed that the brush was ivory handled.

Her bicycling skirt was in tolerable condition, but her once delicate blue blouse was past renovation, so she was invested with a borrowed white one, and led in triumph to the saloon, just as the beautiful 'Francie' came to call 'Phyllis,' and give a helping hand. There were two gentlemen besides Hubert Delrio, and there was a general rejoicing welcome; but Vera did not think Hubert made half enough inquiries or apologies, before she was seated at the table, where everything was secured, and the fare was not very sumptuous or various, being chiefly some concoction of rice and scraps of salt beef, which Francie said was a shame, eating up the poor sailors' fare; also there was potted meat, and cheese, but all the fresh bread was gone, and they praised Mrs. Griggs' construction of ham and rice with all the warmth and drollery each could contribute. Vera began to be puzzled as to who every one was, for no names except Phyl, Fly, Francie and Ivy were heard, and the merry grey-haired head of the family was 'Father' or 'Papa' to every one, except of course Mr. Delrio, who, however, seemed at his ease, and took a fair share in the talk, and once or twice Vera thought he said, 'my lord,' but she did not believe it.

'I find you are a friend of a special pet of mine, Mysie Merrifield,' said the father.

'I know her a little,' stammered Vera, 'but Primrose best.'

'Nearer your age, eh? But Mysie is our gem! It looks fit for going on deck.'

After the apology for a dinner, the young married pair went their way, he to endeavour to add a fish to their provisions, she to look on; the father and Delrio went where the latter could best study the wonderful tints of sunset over the purple retreating clouds, and the still agitated foaming sea,-sights that seemed to be filling him with enchantment, and revealing effects in colour, while his delight was evidently a new pleasure to his companion.

Vera was afraid to move, and sat on a deck chair, with her back to the sunset, while Phyllis, who perhaps would have liked to share in the admiration, sat by her, so that Vera began to accept her as a special friend, and to pour out the explanation of how she came to be tossing in an open boat with this one companion.

'You see, poor fellow,' she said, simpering, 'he has been always so devoted to me. Everybody observed it, and I could not help just gratifying him a little.'

'He does seem to be very full of promise,' said Phyllis. 'I suppose Miss Prescott is much pleased with him.'

'My sister Magdalen, do you mean? Well, we have not introduced him to her yet. You see, he is only painting the church, and she is so devoted to swells, and makes such a fuss about our manners.'

'Indeed! But surely you could not go out with him without her knowing it.'

'She was not at this St. Milburgha's Guild, you know, and Sisters Beata and Mena knew all about it. Oh, yes, she lets us go to them at St. Kenelm's, but they are not swells enough for her.'

'Mr. Flight's Sisterhood, are not they?'

'And Primrose Merrifield says that Wilfred declares that they are not ladies; but that's all jealousy, you know, because Will doesn't like my friends, and Magdalen is altogether gone upon grandees.'

'Fancy!' was all that Phyllis managed to say.

'She doesn't want us to be friends with anybody who don't belong to some one with a handle to her name. So foolish and stuck up! So we knew she would not be kind to Hubert.'

'I think you had better have tried. I thought her one of the kindest people in the world.'

'Ah! but, you know, unfortunately she has been a governess, and that teaches toadying.'

At that moment 'Phyl' was called to see the first star over the sea, and ran up to her father, so as to conceal how nearly she was laughing. Hubert Delrio came towards Vera.

'Can you forgive me, Vera?' he said. 'I shall speak to your sister as soon as I am at home, and ask her forgiveness, and-'

'Oh, yes! yes! But do tell me who these people are.'

'Did you not know? That most kind of men, is Lord Rotherwood. Those are Lord and Lady Ivinghoe, and-'

'Lady Phyllis! Oh!'

CHAPTER XIII-CHIMERAS DIRE

'Qu'allait-il faire dans cette galère?'

FRENCH COMEDY.

Vera's first thorough awakening the next morning was to hear outside the door, 'Are you up, Fly?'

'I shall be in a minute or two. Do you want me?'

'You are a dab at parlez-vous. I want you to come ashore with me and cater for the starving crew.'

'What fun! Anon, anon, Sir!'

Vera then perceived that she had been bestowed in Lady Phyllis' cabin, and that the proper owner was dressing herself in haste before the little shelf of a toilette table. So great had been the confusion of last night's discovery that the poor silly child had only thought of hurrying out of sight and tumbling into bed without speaking to any one, and she had not distinctly known, when Lady Phyllis came down a good deal later and disposed of herself on the sofa, that Mrs. Griggs had made ready for her. And now the only thing she could think of was to say, 'Oh! Lady Phyllis, I didn't know.'

'Take care! Don't knock your head! We ought to have remembered that Boreas, or whichever it was, was hardly a sufficient introduction. Are you all right now? You had better go to sleep again till I bring something to eat. We are lying to off some little Breton fishing village, and I am going with my brother to get some provisions, and telegraph if we can.'

It was long before they came back. Vera had another nap, dressed herself, grew very hungry, and came out to find Lord Rotherwood fishing, and his daughter-in-law watching for the boat to put out from the white houses with grey roofs, which, clustered round their church-tower, seemed descending to the water's edge. They were equally famished, though Mrs. Griggs stewed up the poor remnants of last night's banquet; but at last the little boat appeared, gaily dancing over the waves, and Phyllis making signals of success.

'Oh, yes, you may be thankful, you poor starving beings! Here, Mrs. Griggs! Accept, and do all you can! Here are eggs, and some milk and fresh water, four poulets, such as they are, and a huge monster of a crab; but all the bread is leavened, and you little guess what Ivy and I had to go through before we were allowed to buy anything. We were had up to the Mayor, and had to constater all manner of things about our ship, to prove that we were no smugglers.'

'I thought the fat old rogue would have come out to visit the yacht before he would have allowed us a morsel,' said Lord Ivinghoe.

'In which case you might have been found a skeleton, father, like Sir Hugh Willoughby! And as to our telegrams, they won't go till the diligence gets to St. Malo, and what they will make of them there is another question. I did not dare to send more than one, for fear they should get mixed up.

Vera heard the joyous chaff as it fluttered round her, not half understanding it any more than if it had been a strange tongue, and not always guessing the cause of the fits of laughter, chiefly at Lord Ivinghoe's misadventures, over which his little sister and his father were well pleased to tease his correctness, and his young wife looked a little hurt at his being tormented. He could not remember that braconnier was a poacher by land, not by sea, and very unnecessarily disclaimed to the Maire being such a thing. His father, he said, 'was gentilhomme anglais en-what's a yacht?- yac. (Nonsense! that's a long-haired ox. No!) Non point contrabandiste, mais galérien dans galère.' 'And there I interposed,' said Phyllis, 'for fear we should be boarded as escaped galériens.'

'Why, galley was a pleasure-boat sometimes,' said Ivinghoe, and his wife supported him with 'Cleopatra's galley.'

'Well done, Francie! To your oars for Ivy's defence,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'How did you defend us, Fly, from being towed into harbour at Brest as runaway convicts?'

'She gabbled away most eloquently to the Maire, almost as fluently as a born French-woman,' said Ivinghoe, 'and persuaded him at last that it was not necessary to come on board to inspect us, nor even to detain us till he