Now, this speech of Uncle Brian’s made me very angry.  No doubt he meant to be kind, and to show me that if my scheme failed I might come home to them again; but I was so much in earnest that his satire and his laughing at me hurt me more than all Aunt Philippa’s hard speeches.  So I flushed up, and for the first time tears came into my eyes; for he had prophesied failure, and I could not bear that, and I might have said words in my sudden irritation for which I should have been sorry afterwards, only Lesbia, who had sat behind me all this time, as silent and soft-breathed as a mouse, got up quickly and took my hand and stood by me.

’I think you have all said plenty of hard things to Ursula, and no one has been kind to her.  I think she deserves praise and not all this blame; if she cannot lead the comfortable life we do, thinking how we are to get the most pleasure and enjoy ourselves, it is because she is better than we are, and thinks more about her duty.  Mrs. Garston,—­I do not mean to be rude, I am far too fond of you all, because you have all been so good to me,’—­and here Lesbia’s while throat swelled,—­’but I cannot bear to hear Ursula so blamed.  Mr. Cunliffe, I know you agree with me, you said so many nice things when Ursula was out of the room.’

This little burst of eloquence surprised us all.  Uncle Max said afterwards that he was quite touched by it.  Lesbia was generally so quiet and undemonstrative that her words took Aunt Philippa by storm.  She might have been offended by Lesbia saying that I was better than the rest of them,—­a fact that my conscience most emphatically contradicted; but when Lesbia kissed her, and begged her to think better of things, she cried a little because Charlie was not there to see how pretty she could look, and then cheered up, and made overtures that I might come and kiss her too, which I did most willingly, and with a full heart, remembering she was my father’s sister and had been good to me according to her lights.

When Uncle Max saw that reconciliation was imminent, and that by Lesbia’s help I was likely to have the best of it, my own way, and a good deal of petting to follow,—­for they would all make more of me during the short time I would be with them,—­he threw down his paper in high good-humour and joined us.

‘That is what I call sensible, Mrs. Garston,’ he said, paying her a compliment at once, as she sat flushed and fanning herself, ’and Ursula ought to feel herself very grateful to you for your forbearance and acquiescence in her plan.’

I do not believe he knew any more than myself where the forbearance had been, but he took it all for granted.

’Nothing puts heart into a person more than feeling sure of one’s friends’ sympathy.  Now, we all of us, even Garston, in spite of his disapproval, wish Ursula good success in her scheme; some of us think better of it than others; for my own part, I am so convinced that she will have so many difficulties and disappointments to hamper her that I cannot bear to say a discouraging word.’  And yet he had said dozens, only I was magnanimous and forgave him.