She and her father breakfasted by the London birds’ first twitter.  They talked of Skepsey.  She spoke of her going as exile.  ‘No,’ said he, ‘you’re sure to meet friends.’

Her cheeks glowed.  It came wholly through the suddenness of the recollection, that the family-seat of one among the friends was near the Wells.

He was allowed to fancy, as it suited him to fancy, that a vivid secret pleasure laid the colour on those ingenuous fair cheeks.

’A solitary flute for me, for a month!  I shall miss my sober comrade:  got the habit of duetting:  and he’s gentle, bears with me.’

Tears lined her eyelids.  ’Who would not be, dearest dada!  But there is nothing to bear except the honour.’

‘You like him?  You and I always have the same tastes, Fredi.’

Now there was a reddening of the sun at the mount; all the sky aflame.  How could he know that it was not the heart in the face!  She reddened because she had perused his wishes; had detected a scheme striking off from them, and knew a man to be the object of it; and because she had at the same time the sense of a flattery in her quick divination; and she was responsively emotional, her blood virginal; often it was a tropical lightning.

It looked like the heart doing rich painter’s work on maiden features.  Victor was naturally as deceived as he wished to be.

From his being naturally so, his remarks on Dudley had an air of embracing him as one of the family.  ‘His manner to me just hits me.’

‘I like to see him with you,’ she said.

Her father let his tongue run:  ’One of the few young men I feel perfectly at home with!  I do like dealing with a gentleman.  I can confide in a gentleman:  honour, heart, whatever I hold dearest.’

There he stopped, not too soon.  The girl was mute, fully agreeing, slightly hardening.  She had a painful sense of separation from her dear Louise.  And it was now to be from her mother as well:  she felt the pain when kissing her mother in bed.  But this was moderated by the prospect of a holiday away out of reach of Mr. Barmby’s pursuing voice, whom her mother favoured:  and her mother was concealing something from her; so she could not make the confidante of her mother.  Nataly had no forewarnings.  Her simple regrets filled her bosom.  All night she had been taking her chastisement, and in the morning it seemed good to her, that she should be denuded, for her girl to learn the felicity of having relatives.

For some reason, over which Nataly mused in the succeeding hours, the girl had not spoken of any visit her mother was to pay to the Duvidney ladies or they to her.  Latterly she had not alluded to her mother’s family.  It might mean, that the beloved and dreaded was laying finger on a dark thing in the dark; reading syllables by touch; keeping silence over the communications to a mind not yet actively speculative, as it is a