'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
