"Oh, what a silly child you are! Very well, for a night or two I will humor you, and Read shall sleep in the room; but now clearly understand I allow no bedroom suppers and no gossip-but Read will see to that. Now, make up your mind to be happy and contented-in short, to submit to the life which Providence has ordered for you. Think first of others and last of yourself and you may be happy. Consult Audrey and Miss Sinclair and you will gain wisdom. Obey me whether you like it or not, or you will certainly be a very wretched girl. Ah! and here we are. You would like to go to the schoolroom; they are having tea there, I believe. Run off, dear; that will do for the present."

When Evelyn reached the schoolroom she found a busy and animated group all seated about in different parts of it. They were eagerly discussing the charade, and when Evelyn arrived she was welcomed.

"I am ever so sorry, Evelyn," said Audrey, "that you cannot have the part you wanted; but we mean to get up some other charades later on in the week, and then you shall help us and have a very good part. You do not mind our arrangement for to-night, do you?"

Evelyn replied somewhat sulkily. Audrey determined to take no notice.

She sat down by her little cousin, told Sophie to fetch some hot tea, and soon coaxed Evelyn into a fairly good-humor. The small part she was to undertake was read over to her, and she was obliged to get certain words by heart. She had little or no idea of acting, but there was a certain calm a.s.surance about her which would carry her through many difficulties. The children, incited by Audrey's example, were determined to pet her and make the best of her; and when she did leave the schoolroom she felt almost as happy and important as she thought she ought to be.

"What a horrid girl she is!" said Sophie as soon as the door had closed behind Evelyn.

"I wish you would not say that," remarked Audrey; and a look of distress visited her pretty face.

"Oh, we do not mind for ourselves," remarked Juliet; "it is on your account, Audrey. You know what great friends we have always been, and now to have you a.s.sociated every day, and all day long with a girl of that sort-it really seems almost past bearing."

"I shall get used to it," said Audrey. "And remember that I pity her, and am sorry-very sorry-for her. I dare say we shall win her over by being kind."

"Well," said Henrietta, rising as she spoke and slowly crossing the room, "I have promised to be civil to her for your sake for a day or two, but I vow it will not last long if she gives herself such ridiculous airs. The idea of her ever having a place like this!"

She said the last words below her breath, and Audrey did not hear them.

Presently her mother called her, and the young girl ran off. The others looked at each other.

"Well, Arthur, and what is filling your mind?" said his sister Henrietta, looking into the face of the handsome boy.

"I am thinking of Sylvia," he answered. "I wish she were here instead of Evelyn. Don't you like her very much, Hennie? Don't you think she is a very handsome and very interesting girl?"

"I hardly spoke to her," replied Henrietta. "I saw you were taken with her."

"She was mysterious; that is one reason why I like her," he replied.

Then he added abruptly: "I wish you would make friends with her, Henrietta. I wish you, and Juliet too, could be specially kind to her; she looks so very sad."

"I never saw a merrier girl," was Juliet's reply. "But then, I don't see people with your eyes; you are always a good one at guessing people's secrets."

"I take after Moss in that," he replied.

"There never was any one like her," said Juliet. "Well, I am going to dress now. I hope the charade will go off well. What a blessing Lady Frances came to the rescue and delivered us from Evelyn's spoiling everything by taking a good part!"

Meanwhile Evelyn had gone up to her room. It was neat and in perfect order once more. Jasper's brief reign had pa.s.sed and left no sign. The fire burned brightly on the carefully swept-up hearth; the electric light made the room bright as day. A neat, grave-looking woman was standing by the fire, and when Evelyn appeared she came forward to meet her.

"My name is Mrs. Read," she said. "I am my mistress's own special maid, but she has asked me to see to your toilet this evening, Miss Wynford; and this, I understand, is the dress her ladyship wishes you to wear."

Evelyn pouted; then she tossed off her hat and looked full up at Read.

Her lips quivered, and a troubled, pathetic light for the first time filled her brown eyes.

"Where is Jasper?" she asked abruptly.

"Miss Jasper has left, my dear young lady."

"Then I hate you, and I don't want you to dress me. You can go away,"

said Evelyn.

"I am sorry, Miss Wynford, but her ladyship's orders are that I am to attend to your wardrobe. Perhaps you will allow me to do your hair and put on your dress at once, as her ladyship wants me to go to her a little later."

"You will do nothing of the kind. I will dress myself now that Jasper has gone."

"And a good thing too, miss. Young ladies ought always to make themselves useful. The more you know, the better off you will be; that is my opinion."

Evelyn looked full up at Read. Read had a kindly face, calm blue eyes, a firm, imperturbable sort of mouth. She wore her hair very neatly banded on each side of her head. Her dress was perfectly immaculate. There was nothing out of place; she looked, in short, like the very soul of order.

"Do you know who I am?" was Evelyn's remark.

"Certainly I do, Miss Wynford."

"Please tell me."

The glimmer of a smile flitted across Read's calm mouth.

"You are a young lady from Tasmania, niece to the Squire, and you have come over here to be educated with Miss Audrey-bless her!"

"Is that all you know!" said Evelyn. "Then I will tell you more. There will come a day when your Miss Audrey will have nothing to do with the Castle, and when I shall have everything to do with it. I am to be mistress here any day, whenever my uncle dies."

"My dear Miss Wynford, don't speak like that! The Squire is safe to live, Providence permitting, for many a long year."

Evelyn sat down again.

"I think my aunt, Lady Frances, one of the cruellest women in the world," she continued. "Now you know what I think, and you can tell her, you nasty cross-patch. You can go away and tell her at once. I longed to say so to her face when I was out driving to-day, but she has got the upper hand of me, although she is not going to keep it. I don't want you to help me; I hate you nearly as much as I hate her!"

Read looked as though she did not hear a single remark that Evelyn made.

She crossed the room, and presently returned with a can of hot water and poured some into a basin.

"Now, miss," she said, "if you will wash your face and hands, I will arrange your hair."

There was something in her tone which reduced Evelyn to silence.

"Did you not hear what I said?" she remarked after a minute.

"No, miss; it may be more truthful to say I did not. When young ladies talk silly, naughty words I have a 'abit of shutting up my ears; so it ain't no manner of use to talk on to me, miss, for I don't hear, and I won't hear, and that is flat. If you will come now, like a good little lady, and allow yourself to be dressed, I have a bit of a surprise for you; but you will not know about it before your toilet is complete."

"A bit of a surprise!" said Evelyn, who was intensely curious. "What in the world can it be?"

"I will tell you when you are dressed, miss; and I must ask you to hurry, for my mistress is waiting for me."

If Evelyn had one overweening failing more than another, it was inordinate curiosity. She rose, therefore, and submitted with a very bad grace to Read's manipulations. Her face and hands were washed, and Read proceeded to brush out the scanty flaxen locks.

"Are you not going to pile my hair on the top of my head?" asked the little girl.

"Oh dear, no, Miss Wynford; that ain't at all the way little ladies of your age wear their hair."

"I always wore it like that when I was in Tasmania with mothery!"