Part 42 (2/2)

'She says so, or rather that her daughter can, but I shall see about that. It is worth while to be of age. Imagine! That bank which failed was the end of my father's legacy. They must have lived on a fraction of nothing! Edward went to sea. Miss Aylmer went out as a governess. Now she is at home.'

'Miss Aylmer!' exclaimed Miss Weston, 'I know she was a clergyman's daughter. Do you know the name of the family she lived with?'

'Was it Grant?' said William. 'I remember hearing of her going to some Grants.'

'It was,' said Alethea; 'she must be the same. Is she at home?'

'Yes,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and you may soon see her, for I mean to have them all to stay at the castle as soon as our present visitors are gone. My mother and Florence shall call upon them on Friday.'

'Now,' said Claude, 'I have not found out what brought them back to Raynham.'

'Have you lived at Beechcroft all your life, and never discovered that there is a grammar-school at Raynham, with special privileges for the sons of clergymen of the diocese?'

A few more words, and the cousins parted; Emily by no means sorry that she had been obliged to go to Raynham. She tendered the five- pound note to her father, but he desired her to wait till Friday, and then to bring him a full account of her expenditure of the year. Her irregular ways made this almost impossible, especially as in the present state of affairs she wished to avoid a private conference with either Lily or Jane. She was glad that an invitation to dine and sleep at the castle on Wednesday would save her from the peril of having to talk to Lily in the evening. Reginald came home on Tuesday, to the great joy of all the party, and especially to that of Phyllis. This little maiden was more puzzled by the events that had taken place than conscious of the feeling which she had once thought must be so delightful. She could scarcely help perceiving that every one was much more kind to her than usual, especially Claude and Lily, and Lord Rotherwood said things which she could not at all understand. Her observation to Reginald was, 'Was it not lucky I had a cough on Twelfth Day, or Claude would not have told me what to do about gunpowder?'

Reginald troubled Phyllis much by declaring that nothing should induce him to kiss his nephew, and she was terribly shocked by the indifference with which Eleanor treated his neglect, even when it branched out into abuse of babies in general, and in particular of Henry's bald head and turned-up nose.

In the evening of Wednesday Phyllis was sitting with Ada in the nursery, when Reginald came up with the news that the party downstairs were going to practise country dances. Eleanor was to play, Claude was to dance with Lily, and Frank with Jane, and he himself wanted Phyllis for a partner.

'Oh!' sighed Ada, 'I wish I was there to dance with you, Redgie!

What are the others doing?'

'Maurice is reading, and William went out as soon as dinner was over; make haste, Phyl.'

'Don't go,' said Ada, 'I shall be alone all to-morrow, and I want you.'

'Nonsense,' said Reginald, 'do you think she is to sit poking here all day, playing with those foolish London things of yours?'

'But I am ill, Redgie. I wish you would not be cross. Everybody is cross to me now, I think.'

'I will stay, Ada,' said Phyllis. 'You know, Redgie, I dance like a cow.'

'You dance better than nothing,' said Reginald, 'I must have you.'

'But you are not ill, Redgie,' said Phyllis.

He went down in displeasure, and was forced to consider Sir Maurice's picture as his partner, until presently the door opened, and Phyllis appeared. 'So you have thought better of it,' cried he.

'No,' said Phyllis, 'I cannot come to dance, but Ada wants you to leave off playing. She says the music makes her unhappy, for it makes her think about to-morrow.'

'Rather selfish, Miss Ada,' said Claude.

'Stay here, Phyllis, now you are come,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I will go and speak to Ada.'

Phyllis was now captured, and made to take her place opposite to Reginald; but more than once she sighed under the apprehension that Ada was receiving a lecture. This was the case; and very little did poor Ada comprehend the change that had taken place in the conduct of almost every one towards her; she did not perceive that she was particularly naughty, and yet she had suddenly become an object of blame, instead of a spoiled pet. Formerly her little slynesses had been unnoticed, and her overbearing ways towards Phyllis scarcely remarked, but now they were continually mentioned as grievous faults.

Esther, her especial friend and comforter, was scarcely allowed to come into the same room with her; Hannah treated her with a kind of grave, silent respect, far from the familiarity which she liked; little Henry's nurse never would talk to her, and if it had not been for Phyllis, she would have been very miserable. On Phyllis, however, she repaid herself for all the mortifications that she received, while the sweet-tempered little girl took all her fretfulness and exactions as results of her illness, and went on pitying her, and striving to please her.

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