Part 14 (1/2)

”For ten minutes or so, only. They wanted to ask me a question about the healthiness of Brand Hall, drains, and all that kind of thing. That young Brand struck me as a very sullen-looking fellow.”

”His face lightens up when he talks,” said Janetta, coloring and feeling hurt for a moment, she could not have told why.

”He did not talk to me,” said her father, drily. ”I am told that the other son has pleasanter manners.”

”Cuthbert? Oh, yes,” Janetta said, quickly. ”He is much more amiable at first sight; he made himself very agreeable to Nora and me.” And forthwith she related how the second son had made acquaintance with her sister and herself.

Mr. Colwyn did not look altogether pleased.

”H'm!--they seem very ready to cultivate us,” he said, with a slight contraction of the brow. ”Their father used not to know that I existed.

Janet, I don't care for Nora to see much of them. You I can trust; but she is a bit of a featherbrain, and one never knows what may happen.

Look to it.”

”I will, father.”

”And I will call on Mrs. Brand and have a chat with her. Poor soul! I daresay she has suffered. Still that does not make her a fit companion for my girls.”

”If I could be of any use to her, father----”

”I know that's all you think of, Janet. You are a good child--always wanting to help others. But we must not let the spirit of self-sacrifice run away with you, you know.”

He pinched her cheek softly as he spoke, and his daughter carried the long supple fingers of his hand to her lips and kissed them tenderly.

”Which reminds me,” he went on rather inconsequently, ”that I saw another of your friends to-day. A friend whom you have not mentioned for some time, Janetta.”

”Who was that?” asked Janetta, a little puzzled by his tone.

”Another friend whom I don't quite approve of,” said her father, in the same half-quizzical way, ”though from a different reason. If poor Mrs.

Brand is not respectable enough, this friend of yours, Janet, is more than respectable; ultra-respectable--aristocratic even----”

”Margaret Adair!” cried Janetta, flus.h.i.+ng to the very roots of her hair.

”Did you see her, father? Has she quite forgotten me?” And the tears stood in her eyes.

”I did not see Miss Margaret Adair, my dear,” said her father kindly. ”I saw her mother, Lady Caroline.”

”Did you speak to her, father?”

”She stopped her ponies and spoke to me in the High Street, Janet. She certainly has very winning manners.”

”Oh, has she not, father!” Janetta's cheeks glowed. ”She is perfectly charming, I think. I do not believe that she could do anything disagreeable or unkind.”

Mr. Colwyn shook his head, with a little smile. ”I am not so sure of that, Janetta. These fine ladies sometimes do very cold and cruel things with a perfectly gracious manner.”

”But Lady Caroline would not,” said Janetta, coaxingly. ”She was quite kind and sweet to me all the time that I stayed at her house, although----”

”Although afterwards,” said Mr. Colwyn, shrewdly, ”she could let you stay here for weeks without seeming to remember you, or coming near you for an hour!”

Janetta's cheeks crimsoned, but she did not reply. Loyal as she was to her friend, she felt that there was not much to be said for her at that moment.

”You are a good friend,” said her father, in a half-teasing, half-affectionate tone. ”You don't like me to say anything bad of her, do you? Well, my dear, for your comfort I must tell you that she did her best to-day to make up for past omissions. She spoke very pleasantly about you.”