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'Well, I think you might have finished dressing before you came downstairs,' remarks the widow reproachfully.

'I was not in the mood for it. I should think you might know by this time, Agatha, that I never do anything unless I feel inclined.'

'You love fresh flowers and vivid contrasts,' says Lord Valence. So do I; and the scarlet geranium is one of my greatest favourites. You should see how it grows round the moat and on the terraces at Castle Valence : almost wild; and in summer the fern beds are lit up by its blossoms with one blaze of colour. Is it not beautiful, Agatha ?'

'We think so, dear Valence; do we not?'

'Every one must think so who has an eye for effect. You love

the country, I am sure, Everil?' 'You are quite mistaken,' she answers shortly. I hate it!'

'What! When you have been brought up at Norman House?'

'Is it only necessary to be accustomed to a thing to like it? There is such a condition, I suppose, as having had too much of a place or a person?'

'But one could never get sick of nature!'

'I don't know. I am incompetent to judge. But, at my time of life, it is natural to wish for change.'

'You would like to rove all over the world, and see fresh scenes every month?' suggests Maurice Staunton.

'I am not quite sure of that. I have tried France and Germany, Belgium and Italy, and I have always been glad to return home again. It would entirely depend'

'On what?'

'On whether I was allowed to have my own way in everything

to be free as air and unguarded as sunshine-or walked out and walked in again at stated times like a well-cared-for child. I hate to be looked after, and watched and protected! I like to take care of myself to do as I choose -to have my own friends, my own opinions, my own plans. I detest the artificial life we lead. I rebel against all the rules of decorum. I should like to take the exigencies of society, and smash their heads against a wall! I am a woman; and when I am not allowed to behave as a woman, I behave as less.'

And Miss West-Norman, quite led away from her original subject by the proximity of the Earl, looks round the assembly with a heated face, that is not entirely devoid of fear lest she may have gone too far.

'My dear girl! what an extraordinary time you have chosen to air these shocking principles of yours,' titters Mrs. West, as, with secret delight, she views the dismayed look on Lord Valence's countenance.

'Both unseasonable and unreasonable,' murmurs Mr. Mildmay disapprovingly, which incites her on to fresh disorder.

'I only say what I mean, Guardy; and I don't care who hears it. Why should women be debarred from so many of the privileges you male creatures accord to yourselves? Why shouldn't we travel, and go to parties and theatres alone; and ride on horseback, and knock about the world as men do, without being for ever dependent on chaperons and escorts? Are we not just as well able to take care of ourselves as

you are? Could we get into more scrapes, or better play the fool, than most of the young men of the present day? I doubt it.'

'But, giving you the benefit of

your doubt,' observes Lord Valence quietly,' is it not desirable you should be protected from placing yourselves in a position which, according to your own showing, is not an enviable one? And then a masculine woman (a "fast" woman as she is called in the present day) has lost her chief charm. You would be free yourself, and leave us free?'

The nervous, half-diffident manner in which he addresses her-the disappointment which his look and tone convey-give Everil West-Norman the clue to what he most dislikes in her address. She at once out-Herod's Herod.

Leave you free! Why, what should we want with you then? By Jove!' with a very unnatural effort, it would be the best day's work we had ever done!'

A dark flush rises to the very roots of Lord Valence's hair, and he turns quickly away to address his sister-in-law. Miss Strong looks dismayed so does Mr. Mildmay-and Captain Staunton commences to examine the pattern of his dessert plate. Each tries to cover the family disgrace by starting a new subject and looking in the opposite direction. Had they glanced at the unfortunate offender instead, they would have caught her with a face as scarlet as the Earl's, and twice as miserable in appearance. She has made a bold stroke to get rid of a husband; but she is not quite comfortable under the working of it.

'Shall we adjourn?' she inquires, with a harsh laugh, some five minutes later, of Mrs. West.

The ladies rise, and pass into the drawing-room.

'My dear, how could youcommences Miss Strong.

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'Oh! don't you begin at me,' says the girl hurriedly, or I may

say something that I shall be sorry for. I know exactly what you mean. You are shocked, and horrified, and overcome; and I don't care whether you are or not. I, too, am shocked, and horrified, and overcome, in my fashion, and no one takes any notice of it. I'm sure I wish that I was dead!' casting herself on the sofa as she speaks.

'My dearest child-,' recommences the governess.

'I will not be pitied and fondled in this way!' she cries impetuously as she rushes to the farthest end of the room to avoid the coming embrace. 'I have done nothing that any one should presume to condole with me as if I had lost a leg. It drives me wild-it maddens me! I shall do something desperate if people can't speak to me and look at me in an ordinary way!'

Then she stops to question Mrs. West, who is busy with her needlework.

'What is the matter with me, Agatha? Am I worse than usual? What have I said or done?'

'You were only a little indiscreet, dear. I daresay you have a headache, and felt irritable. The sun was very hot to-day.'

'The sun was abominably hot. It was enough to give one a fever. The best thing I can do is to go to bed.'

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night, then, and pleasant dreams to you.'

They will be so. In sleep, at least, I always get the best of an argument.'

You never suffer from nightmare, then?'

'I never did until to-day' (with a comical glance). ‘I I go to shake it off. Good-night!'

But her levity is assumed. Resolute as she believes herself to be-ready to do battle as she feels herself to be-opposed to every thought of marriage with Lord Valence as she knows herself to be, still Everil West-Norman recognises there is a hard task before her, not only to gain her wishes, but to make all her wishes focus to one point.

She thinks she is in love with Maurice Staunton; but she has a shrewd suspicion, also, that she has never been in love with the prospect of becoming his wife; and because she cannot make her hopes and prospects tally, she has fallen out of humour with herself. She is like the child with both hands full-she wants to grasp more, but she cannot do so without letting something fall. The child, on perceiving his dilemma, cries; so does our heroine, though not so audibly.

'I hope he was shocked,' she thinks viciously, as her maid assists her into bed. 'I am sure he was disgusted; I saw it in every line of his face. And for the matter of that, Maurice looked rather astonished, too; but I can explain to him to-morrow. I'll never explain to the other-no, never!-not if I lived to a hundred years! It would take off all the point to let him know I did it on purpose. What business has he to be shocked at anything I do? Just as if I belonged to him!

'I think it is most indelicate,

taking people by storm (I am sure I never asked him to come here), and forestalling their decision in this way. He ought to be ashamed of himself!

'I wonder if he is so ill! He looks rather thin and pale, and his eyes have a strange look in them. I knew when he was looking at me, even whilst my head was turned the other way.

"I hate those kind of eyes— always prying and spying into other people's concerns. They invariably go with low, mean, curious natures. I think his eyes are the worst part about him. I shall never look at them more than I am absolutely obliged. A whole week! He is to be here, pestering and tormenting us for absolutely a whole week, and then -and then

"Oh! why did my father ever make that horrid will? Why did I ever have a father, if he couldn't think of something more agreeable to leave behind him than that? It is cruel-iniquitous

'To force a girl like me to decide for myself, and with such a horrible alternative in view.

'If Valence were only more like Maurice- -or if Maurice had- What on earth are you gaping there for, Parsons?'

'I thought you spoke, miss.'

'I didn't speak—or, if I did, it was to myself. Give me my dressing - gown, and leave me alone. My head aches so. I can sit up no longer. This weather is perfectly unbearable. One would think it was July instead of May! I wish it were July or December, or anything but what it is! I wish I was in Iceland or Canada, or anywhere but where I am! I wish- Good heavens! Parsons, I wish you'd leave the room when you're told, and not stand

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