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  'Your loving mother.'

  'They have told you all about it, Aunt Jane!' said Gillian.

  'Yes; they have been so cruel as not even to tell you the names of these robbers? Well, I dare say you had rather read my letter than hear it.'

  'Thank you very much, Aunt Jane! May I take it upstairs with me?'

  Consent was readily given, and Gillian had just time for her first cursory reading before luncheon.

  'DEAREST JENNY-Fancy what burst upon me only the day after my coming-though really we ought to be very thankful. You might perhaps have divined what was brewing from the letters. Jasper knew of one and suspected the other before the accident, and he says it prevented him from telegraphing to stop me, for he was sure one or both the girls would want their mother. Phyllis began it. Hers is a young merchant just taken into the great Underwood firm. Bernard Underwood, a very nice fellow, brother to the husband of one of Harry May's sisters-very much liked and respected, and, by the way, an uncommonly handsome man. That was imminent before Jasper's accident, and the letter to prepare me must be reposing in Harry's care. Mr. Underwood came down with Claude to meet me when I landed, and I scented danger in his eye. But it is all right-only his income is entirely professional, and they will have to live out here for some time to come.

  'The other only spoke yesterday, having abstained from worrying his General. He is Lord Francis Somerville, son to Lord Liddesdale, and a captain in the Glen Lorn Highlanders, who have not above a couple of years to stay in these parts. He was with the riding party when Jasper fell, and was the first to lift him; indeed, he held him all the time of waiting, for poor Claude trembled too much. He was an immense help through the nursing, and they came to know and depend on him as nothing else would have made them do; and they proved how sincerely right-minded and good he is. There is some connection with the Underwoods, though I have not quite fathomed it. There is no fear about home consent, for it seems that he is given to outpourings to his mother, and had heard that if he thought of Sir Jasper Merrifield's daughter his parents would welcome her, knowing what Sir J. is. There's for you! considering that we have next to nothing to give the child, and Frank has not much fortune, but Alethea is trained to the soldierly life, and they will be better off than Jasper and I were.

  'The worst of it is leaving them behind; and as neither of the gentlemen can afford a journey home, we mean to have the double wedding before Lent. As to outfit, the native tailors must be chiefly trusted to, or the stores at Calcutta, and I must send out the rest when I come home. Only please send by post my wedding veil (Gillian knows where it is), together with another as like it as may be. Any slight lace decorations to make us respectable which suggest themselves to you and her might come; I can't recollect or mention them now. I wish Reginald could come and tell you all, but the poor fellow has to go home full pelt about those Irish. Jasper is writing to William, and you must get business particulars from him, and let Gillian and the little ones hear, for there is hardly any time to write. Phyllis, being used to the idea, is very quiet and matter-of- fact about it. She hoped, indeed, that I guessed nothing till I was satisfied about papa, and had had time to rest. Alethea is in a much more April condition, and I am glad Frank waited till I was here on her account and on her father's. He is going on well, but must keep still. He declares that being nursed by two pair of lovers is highly amusing. However, such homes being found for two of the tribe is a great relief to his mind. I suppose it is to one's rational mind, though it is a terrible tug at one's heart-strings. You shall hear again by the next mail. A brown creature waits to take this to be posted.-

  Your loving sister,

  L. M.'

  Gillian came down to dinner quite pale, and to Aunt Ada's kind 'Well, Gillian?' she could only repeat, 'It is horrid.'

  'It is hard to lose all the pretty double wedding,' said Aunt Ada.

  'Gillian does not mean that,' hastily put in Miss Mohun.

  'Oh no,' said Gillian; 'that would be worse than anything.'

  'So you think,' said Aunt Jane; 'but believe those who have gone through it all, my dear, when the wrench is over, one feels the benefit.'

  Gillian shook her head, and drank water. Her aunts went on talking, for they thought it better that she should get accustomed to the prospect; and, moreover, they were so much excited that they could hardly have spoken of anything else. Aunt Jane wondered if Phyllis's betrothed were a brother of Mr. Underwood of St. Matthew's, Whittingtown, with whom she had corresponded about the consumptive home; and Aunt Ada regretted the not having called on Lady Liddesdale when she had spent some weeks at Rockstone, and consoled herself by recollecting that Lord Rotherwood would know all about the family. She had already looked it out in the Peerage, and discovered that Lord Francis Cunningham Somerville was the only younger son, that his age was twenty-nine, and that he had three sisters, all married, as well as his elder brother, who had children enough to make it improbable that Alethea would ever be Lady Liddesdale. She would have shown Gillian the record, but received the ungracious answer, 'I hate swells.'

  'Let her alone, Ada,' said Aunt Jane; 'it is a very sore business. She will be better by and by.'

  There ensued a little discussion how the veil at Silverfold was to be hunted up, or if Gillian and her aunt must go to do so.

  'Can you direct Miss Vincent?' asked Miss Mohun.

  'No, I don't think I could; besides, I don't like to set any one to poke and meddle in mamma's drawers.'

  'And she could hardly judge what could be available,' added Miss Ada.

  'Gillian must go to find it,' said Aunt Jane; 'and let me see, when have I a day? Saturday is never free, and Monday-I could ask Mrs. Hablot to take the cutting out, and then I could look up Lily's Brussels-'

  There she caught a sight of Gillian's face. Perhaps one cause of the alienation the girl felt for her aunt was, that there was a certain kindred likeness between them which enabled each to divine the other's inquiring disposition, though it had different effects on the elder and younger character. Jane Mohun suspected that she had on her ferret look, and guessed that Gillian's disgusted air meant that the idea of her turning over Lady Merrifield's drawers was almost as distasteful as that of the governess's doing it.

  'Suppose Gillian goes down on Monday with Fanny,' she said. 'She could manage very well, I am sure.'

  Gillian cleared up a little. There is much consolation in being of a little importance, and she liked the notion of a day at home, a quiet day, as she hoped in her present mood, of speaking to nobody. Her aunt let her have her own way, and only sent a card to Macrae to provide for meeting and for food, not even letting Miss Vincent know that she was coming. That feeling of not being able to talk about it or be congratulated would wear off, Aunt Jane said, if she was not worried or argued with, in which case it might become perverse affectation.

  It certainly was not shared by the children. Sisters unseen for three years could hardly be very prominent in their minds. Fergus hoped that they would ride to the wedding upon elephants, and Valetta thought it very hard to miss the being a bridesmaid, when Kitty Varley had already enjoyed the honour. However, she soon began to glorify herself on the beauty of Alethea's future title.

  'What will Kitty Varley and all say?' was her cry.

  'Nothing, unless they are snobs, as girls always are,' said Fergus.

  'It is not a nice word,' said Miss Adeline.

  'But there's nothing else that expresses it, Aunt Ada,' returned Gillian.

  'I agree to a certain degree,' said Miss Mohun; 'but still I am not sure what it does express.'

  'Just what girls of that sort are,' said Gillian. 'Mere worshippers of any sort of handle to one's name.'

  'Gillian, Gillian, you are not going in for levelling,' cried Aunt Adeline.

  'No,' said Gillian; 'but I call it snobbish to make more fuss about Alethea's concern than Phyllis's-just because he calls himself Lord-'

  'That is to a certain degree true,' said Miss Mohun. 'The worth of t
he individual man stands first of all, and nothing can be sillier or in worse taste than to parade one's grand relations.'

  'To parade, yes,' said Aunt Adeline; 'but there is no doubt that good connections are a great advantage.'

  'Assuredly,' said Miss Mohun. 'Good birth and an ancestry above shame are really a blessing, though it has come to be the fashion to sneer at them. I do not mean merely in the eyes of the world, though it is something to have a name that answers for your relations being respectable. But there are such things as hereditary qualities, and thus testimony to the existence of a distinguished forefather is worth having.'

  'Lily's dear old Sir Maurice de Mohun to wit,' said Miss Adeline. 'You know she used to tease Florence by saying the Barons of Beechcroft had a better pedigree than the Devereuxes.'

  'I'd rather belong to the man who made himself,' said Gillian.

  'Well done, Gill! But though your father won his own spurs, you can't get rid of his respectable Merrifield ancestry wherewith he started in life.'

  'I don't want to. I had rather have them than horrid robber Borderers, such as no doubt these Liddesdale people were.'

  There was a little laughing at this; but Gillian was saying in her own mind that it was a fine thing to be one's own Rodolf of Hapsburg, and in that light she held Captain White, who, in her present state of mind, she held to have been a superior being to all the Somervilles-perhaps to all the Devereuxes who ever existed.

  CHAPTER VII. AN EMPTY NEST

  There had been no injunctions of secrecy, and though neither Miss Mohun nor Gillian had publicly mentioned the subject, all Rockquay who cared for the news knew by Sunday morning that Lady Merrifield's two elder daughters were engaged.

  Gillian, in the course of writing her letters, had become somewhat familiarised with the idea, and really looked forward to talking it over with Kalliope. Though that young person could hardly be termed Alethea's best friend, it was certain that Alethea stood foremost with her, and that her interest in the matter would be very loving.

  Accordingly, Kalliope was at the place of meeting even before Gillian, and anxiously she looked as she said-

  'May I venture-may I ask if it is true?'

  'True? Oh yes, Kally, I knew you would care.'

  'Indeed, I well may. There is no expressing how much I owe to dear Miss Alethea and Lady Merrifield, and it is such a delight to hear of them.'

  Accordingly, Gillian communicated the facts as she knew them, and offered to give any message.

  'Only my dear love and congratulations,' said Kalliope, with a little sigh. 'I should like to have written, but-'

  'But why don't you, then?'

  'Oh no; she would be too much engaged to think of us, and it would only worry her to be asked for her advice.'

  'I think I know what it is about,' said Gillian.

  'How? Oh, how do you know? Did Mr. Flight say anything?'

  'Mr. Flight?' exclaimed Gillian. 'What has he to do with it?'

  'It was foolish, perhaps; but I did hope he might have helped Alexis, and now he seems only to care for his music.'

  'Helped him! How?"

  'Perhaps it was unreasonable, but Alexis has always been to good schools. He was getting on beautifully at Leeds, and we thought he would have gained a scholarship and gone on to be a clergyman. That was what his mind has always been fixed upon. You cannot think how good and devoted he is,' said Kalliope with a low trembling voice; 'and my father wished it very much too. But when the break-up came, Mr. White made our not being too fine, as he said, to work, a sort of condition of doing anything for us. Mr. Moore did tell him what Alexis is, but I believe he thought it all nonsense, and there was nothing to be done. Alexis-dear fellow-took it so nicely, said he was thankful to be able to help mother, and if it was his duty and God's will, it was sure to come right; and he has been plodding away at the marble works ever since, quite patiently and resolutely, but trying to keep up his studies in the evening, only now he has worked through all his old school-books.'

  'And does not Mr. Flight know that I will help him?'

  'Well, Mr. Flight means to be kind, and sometimes seems to think much of him; but it is all for his music, I am afraid. He is always wanting new things to be learnt and practised, and those take up so much time; and though he does lend us books, they are of no use for study, though they only make the dear boy long and long the more to get on.'

  'Does not Mr. Flight know?'

  'I am not sure. I think he does; but in his ardour for music he seems to forget all about it. It does seem such a pity that all Alexis's time should be wasted in this drudgery. If I could only be sure of more extra work for my designs, I could set him free; and if Sir Jasper were only at home, I am sure he would put the boy in the way of earning his education. If it were only as a pupil teacher, he would be glad, but then he says he ought not to throw all on me.'

  'Oh, he must be very good!' exclaimed Gillian. 'I am sure papa will help him! I wish I could. Oh!'-with a sudden recollection-'I wonder what books he wants most. I am going to Silverfold to-morrow, and there are lots of old school-books there of the boys', doing nothing, that I know he might have.'

  'Oh, Miss Gillian, how good of you! How delighted he would be!'

  'Do you know what he wants most?'

  'A Greek grammar and lexicon most of all,' was the ready answer. 'He has been trying to find them at the second-hand shop ever so long, but I am afraid there is no hope of a lexicon. They are so large and expensive.'

  'I think there is an old one of Jasper's, if he would not mind its back being off, and lots of blots.'

  'He would mind nothing. Oh, Miss Gillian, you can't think how happy he will be.

  'If there is anything else he wants very much, how could he let me know?' mused Gillian. 'Oh, I see! What time are you at the works?'

  'Alex is there at seven; I don't go till nine.'

  'I am to be at the station at 8.40. Could you or Maura meet me there and tell me?'

  To this Kalliope agreed, for she said she could be sure of getting to her post in time afterwards, and she seemed quite overjoyed. No one could look at her without perceiving that Alexis was the prime thought of her heart, and Gillian delighted her by repeating Aunt Adeline's admiration of his profile, and the general opinion of his singing.

  'I am so sorry you have had to give it up,' she added.

  'It can't be helped,' Kalliope said; 'and I really have no time.'

  'But that's not all,' said Gillian, beginning to blush herself.

  '0h! I hope there's no gossip or nonsense about that,' cried Kalliope, her cheeks flaming.

  'Only-'

  'Not Maura? Naughty little girl, I did not think she knew anything. Not that there is anything to tell,' said Kalliope, much distressed; 'but it is dreadful that there should be such talk.'

  'I thought it was that you meant when you said you wanted advice.'

  'No one could advise me, I am afraid,' said the girl. 'If we could only go away from this place! But that's impossible, and I dare say the fancy will soon go off!'

  'Then you don't care for him?'

  'My dear Miss Gillian, when I have seen gentlemen!' said Kalliope, in a tone that might have cured her admirer.

  They had, however, talked longer than usual, and the notes of the warning bell came up, just when Gillian had many more questions to ask, and she had to run down the garden all in a glow with eagerness and excitement, so that Aunt Ada asked if she had been standing in the sea wind. Her affirmative was true enough, and yet she was almost ashamed of it, as not the whole truth, and there was a consciousness about her all the afternoon which made her soon regret that conversation was chiefly absorbed by the younger one's lamentations that they were not to accompany her to Silverfold, and by their commissions. Fergus wanted a formidable amount of precious tools, and inchoate machines, which Mrs. Halfpenny had regarded as 'mess,' and utterly refused to let his aunts be 'fashed' with; while Valetta's orders were chiefly for the visiting all the creatures, so as t
o bring an exact account of the health and spirits of Rigdum Funnidos, etc., also for some favourite story-books which she wished to lend to Kitty Varley and Maura White.

  'For do you know, Gill, Maura has never had a new story-book since mamma gave her Little Alice and her Sister, when she was seven years old! Do bring her Stories They Tell Me, and On Angel's Wings.'

  'But is not that Mysie's?'

  'Oh yes, but I know Mysie would let her have it. Mysie always let Maura have everything of hers, because the boys teased her.'

  'I will bring it; but I think Mysie ought to be written to before it is lent.'

  'That is right, Gillian,' said Miss Mohun; 'it is always wiser to be above-board when dealing with other people's things, even in trifles.'

  Why did this sound like a reproach, and as if it implied suspicion that Gillian was not acting on that principle? She resented the feeling. She knew she might do as she liked with the boys' old books, for which they certainly had no affection, and which indeed her mother had talked of offering to some of those charities which have a miscellaneous appetite, and wonderful power of adaptation of the disused. Besides, though no one could have the least objection to their being bestowed on the Whites, the very fact of this being her third secret meeting with Kalliope was beginning to occasion an awkwardness in accounting for her knowledge of their needs. It was obvious to ask why she had not mentioned the first meeting, and this her pride would not endure. She had told her parents by letter. What more could be desired?

  Again, when she would not promise to see either Miss Vincent or the Miss Hackets, because 'she did not want to have a fuss,' Aunt Jane said she thought it a pity, with regard at least to the governess, who might feel herself hurt at the neglect, 'and needless secrets are always unadvisable.'

  Gillian could hardly repress a wriggle, but her Aunt Ada laughed, saying, 'Especially with you about, Jenny, for you always find them out.'

  At present, however, Miss Mohun certainly had no suspicion. Gillian was very much afraid she would think proper to come to the station in the morning; but she was far too busy, and Gillian started off in the omnibus alone with Mrs. Mount in handsome black silk trim, to be presented to Mr. Macrae, and much enjoying the trip, having been well instructed by Fergus and Valetta in air that she was to see.