Part 13 (1/2)

Frances reddened a little.

'We did talk quietly part of the time,' she said. 'We weren't playing games _all_ the afternoon. I was a good while walking up and down with Margaret, and afterwards with Bessie.'

Miss Mildmay glanced inquiringly at her elder niece.

'Yes,' said Jacinth, replying to the unspoken question. 'Those are the girls Frances is so fond of--the Harpers.'

'Oh yes, I remember,' said Miss Mildmay. 'Their mother is an old friend of the Scarletts, and the good souls were delighted to take the girls at'----She stopped suddenly, aware that she had been on the point of betraying a confidence, realising, too, that the subject of it was scarcely suited for her young auditors, for Frances especially. But in her slight confusion she stumbled on the very thing she was anxious to avoid, so that it required little 'putting of two and two together' for Jacinth to complete to herself, with an inward smile, her aunt's broken-off sentence. 'They are not--the Harpers, I mean--they are not at all well off, and--a large family, I fancy,' Miss Mildmay went on.

'No,' said Frances in her clear young voice, rather to her hearers'

surprise, 'no, they are not _at all_ rich.'

Then she started, grew crimson, and looked round in affright: had she said something she should not have said? A strange, silly, nervous feeling came over her; as if she must, in another moment, burst into tears.

'Frances,' said Jacinth, 'what are you looking so terrified about?

There's no harm in what you said. It's no secret; Aunt Alison said it herself first.'

Her tone was not unkindly, though slightly sharp. But a look of relief overspread her sister's face.

'No, of course not. I'm very silly,' she murmured.

'I think you must be a little over-tired,' said Miss Mildmay vaguely.

She had not specially noticed Frances's expression. 'I wonder,' she went on, 'I wonder if those Harpers are any relation to the Elvedons? I can't quite remember what Miss Scarlett said about them. It was their mother she was interested in, though--not their father. If they were Elvedon Harpers, Lady Myrtle would know about them; at least'----

'Harper isn't at all an uncommon name,' interrupted Jacinth.

But Miss Mildmay did not resent the little discourtesy--her mind was pursuing its own train of thought. 'I don't know that it _would_ follow that she could know anything of them,' she said. 'Some of the last generation of Harpers were sadly unsatisfactory, and I believe the old man, Lady Myrtle's father, disinherited one or more of his sons. So if you ever go to Robin Redbreast, girls, I think it would be just as well not to mention your school-fellows of the name.'

Jacinth shot a rather triumphant glance at her sister.

'It is generally better, and more well-bred, not to begin about ”Are you related to the so-and-so's?” or ”I have friends of your name,” and remarks like that; isn't it, Aunt Alison?' she said. 'I was telling Frances so, only yesterday.'

Frances reddened again.

'Well, yes,' said Miss Mildmay. 'Still, one cannot make a hard and fast rule about such matters. It calls for a little tact.'

She was very inconsistent; who is not? Something in Jacinth's premature wisdom--almost savouring of 'worldly' wisdom--rather repelled her, careful and unimpulsive though she herself was. Then she felt annoyed with her own annoyance: it was unjust to blame the girl, when she herself had been inculcating caution.

'In this case,' she added, 'I am sure it is best to keep off family affairs, you being so young and Lady Myrtle Goodacre so old; and as I know, there have been sore spots in her history.'

Then she rose from the table.

'Francie, dear, I think you had better go to bed early. You _are_ looking tired,' she said kindly, and as she kissed the little girl she almost fancied--was it fancy?--that she felt a touch of dew on her cheek.

'I'm afraid I don't understand children at all,' she thought to herself, though with a little sigh. 'What in the world can Frances be crying about?'

Jacinth, once they were alone, did not spare her sister.