A look of curiosity from Mrs. Rolleston elicited an explanation, and she heard for the first time the whole history of Bluebell’s antecedents.

“Why,” cried she, much excited, “I remember that Sir Timothy before I married; there are so many Leighs, it never struck me he might be your father-in-law.  I recollect hearing he had disinherited his son, but he has adopted a grandnephew, which, I am afraid, looks bad for Bluebell.”  And she listened with renewed interest to Mrs. Leigh’s diffuse reminiscences, while her protege appeared to her in a new and romantic light, and she pictured half-a-dozen possibilities for her future.

From a miniature of the graceless Theodore which Mrs. Leigh produced, there could be no doubt of the resemblance to his daughter in air and feature; the long sleepy eyes were identical, though the slightly insolent expression of Theodore’s was, happily, wanting.

“He was the best of husbands,” whimpered the widow, on whose placid mind the shortcomings of the dissipated youth seemed to have left no impression; “but he was hardly treated in this world, and so he was taken to a better.”

Before Mrs. Rolleston left, it was arranged that Bluebell was to make her first essay in governessing on Freddy Rolleston, her Sundays to be spent as often as possible with her mother; and ere another week had passed, she and her effects were transferred to the Maples.

A bed was made up for her in a little room of Cecil’s and the tuition of Freddy carried on in the nursery; for Mrs. Rolleston having some doubts as how the amateur and professional governess might amalgamate, avoided letting her entrench on Miss Prosody’s premises.

That lady, indeed, was disposed to look upon her with suspicion and incipient dislike.  She had always been treated with great consideration—­quite one of the family, and cared not for “a rival near her throne.”  Who was Bluebell that she should be made so much of?—­a little nursery governess with no attainments, and yet Cecil’s inseparable companion!  She was a prime favourite with the Colonel, whose “ways” she had made a judicious study of, and treated with considerable tact.  He always mentioned her as “that dear invaluable creature, Miss Prosody.”  She could occasionally put an idea into his mind which he mistook for his own, as, for instance, when he observed to his wife,—­“What a pity that girl has such a preposterous name, and that you all have the habit of calling her by it.  The other evening that idiot, young Halkett must needs say, ‘What a lovely pet name!’ I can tell you I took him up pretty short.  You really must not have her down so much, if these boys think they may talk nonsense to her.”

Mrs. Rolleston was rather surprised at the irritation with which this was said; to be sure she had heard Miss Prosody, previous to young Halkett’s foolish remark, lamenting that Bluebell “did not show more reserve with gentlemen guests, and that she put herself so much on an equality with Cecil.”  The Colonel was a domestic man, and liked cheerfulness at his fireside, of which he himself was to be the centre and inspiration; anything approaching bad spirits, silence, or headaches he always resented.