that how all the young creatures are done
up in her country?"

"She's an English girl, Mrs. Moss, though
I don't think she has lived much in
England."

Mrs. Moss, still gazing after Myrrha,
catalogued the peculiarities with which she
was most struck.

"Half her hair right a-top of her head,
the rest trailing down her back; no gown
to speak of, nothing in one piece, all
flounces and furbelows, petticoats puffed
out behind, such stockings, and shows
'em pretty well, too! Law, ma'am, it's
queer. I shouldn't like to see her in a very
high wind; it appears to me her clothes
would soon be flying off her." Then Mrs.
Moss turned from the window, and attended
to her own business.

The breakfast, for which Myrrha had
professed herself so hungry, had time to be
perfectly ready, and to get almost cold
before they came into the house.

Myrrha had found a cluster of early
apple-blossom, had broken it off, and stuck
it in her hair.

She came and knelt down before Daisy.

"Does it do well there, Aunt Daisy? I
know it does, though I haven't looked in
the glass. Mr. Stewart seemed to grudge
my picking it. Do you grudge it me,
Aunt Daisy? I always wear flowers in my
hair when I'm in reach of them. Roses
suit me best, I think, wild-roses, or white
garden-roses. Oh, I know what would
become me better than this." She pulled out
the apple-blossom and threw it on the
table, and, making a dash out-doors, picked
two or three purple wind-flowers.

"There, they bring out the yellow in my
hair, don't they?"

"But then," Mr. Stewart objected," they
take the purple out of your eyes." At that
she made a pouting grimace

While she was outside, Mr. Stewart had
said to Daisy:

"She has been trying very cleverly to
find out who I am. She evidently can't
accept me as just a gentleman—I mean as
quite, in her sense, a gentleman. First she
assumed me to be an artist, then an author:
don't enlighten her, Daisy!"

"Now," said Daisy, "Mrs. Moss will be
in despair if you don't do justice to the
breakfast."

"Shan't I just do justice to it! I expect
to astonish you, Aunt Daisy. I'm not one
of those ethereal beings who can exist without
mortal sustenance. Won't you call
it lunch, and take something, Mr. Stewart?
I'm really very hungry, and shall be
ashamed to eat half I wish to eat if I have
to eat alone."

Finding everything " delicious " and
"lovely"—cream, butter, bread, honey,
chicken, ham, coffee, preserves—Myrrha
eat and talked rapidly and largely, but
managed, too, to do nothing ungracefully.

"Do you ride, Miss Brown?" Mr. Stewart
asked, when Myrrha had been questioning
him about the stretch of uplands visible
from the window, asking whether there
was good turf there.

"Always, when I can get anything to
carry me. Have you any horses, Aunt
Daisy?"

"No, your aunt has no horses."

"You don't keep anything a lady could
ride, I suppose, Mr. Stewart?"

"Well, I can generally procure the use
of a lady's hack when I wish."

"Oh, Mr. Stewart, I don't know what I
won't do for you if you manage to get me
some nice rides!"

"Bribed in such a splendidly indefinite
manner, you may depend upon my exerting
myself!" And now, Mr. Stewart took
his departure, saying: "I must indulge
in no more of this pleasant idleness, or I
shall get into disgrace."

"With whom?" Myrrha asked
inquisitively.

"With my master."

"Who is he? Who is your master?"

"Ask your Aunt Daisy."

To Myrrha's question Daisy only
answered: "I should think Mr. Stewart is
pretty much his own master."

Miss Brown, breakfast over, and Mr.
Stewart gone, suffered a temporary collapse.
She threw herself into an easy-chair, and
yawned. She was silent, and looked quite
thoughtful, for perhaps five minutes.

"After all," she said, "travelling at
night does use one up rather. I dare say
you wonder why I did travel by night,
Aunt Daisy. The truth is, I had to leave
where I was suddenly; the place got too
hot to hold me. Can I help it, Aunt Daisy,
if men will fall in love with me? And
yet I'm always treated as if the fault was
entirely mine."

"Were you staying with friends in London
when this misfortune happened to you?"

"Yes, Aunt Daisy—at least, I may as
well be frank with you—I was expected to
talk French to the young people. You
understand, I was not a governess, or a
companion, it was a sort of 'mutual
accommodation' arrangement."