“Pray what use have you for them?  I am sure the courteous idea of sending them as a present never could have forced an entrance into your mind, much less have carried the outworks of your heart!”

As his cousin spoke she came to the back of his chair and leaned over his shoulder.

“I shall go out on the terrace and renew the obsolete Dionysia, shouting ‘Evoe!  Eleleus!’ I shall crown and pelt my marble Bacchus yonder with the grapes till his dainty sculptured limbs are bathed in their purple sacrificial blood.  What other use could I possibly have for them?”

He threw his head back and added something in a lower tone, at which Estelle laughed, and put up her red, full lip.

Mrs. Murray frowned, and said sternly: 

“If you intend to see those persons, I advise you to do so promptly.”

Her niece moved toward the door, but glanced over her shoulder.

“I presume Gertrude expects to see Edna, as she asked for her.”

The orphan had been watching Mr. Murray’s face, but could detect no alteration in its expression, save a brief gleam as of triumph when the visitors were announced.  Rising, she approached Mrs. Murray, whose clouded brow betokened more than ordinary displeasure, and whispered: 

“Gertrude is exceedingly anxious to see the house and grounds; have I your permission to show her over the place?  She is particularly anxious to see the deer.”

“Of course, if she requests it; but their effrontery in coming here caps the climax of all the impudence I ever heard of.  Have as little to say as possible.”

Edna went to the parlor, leaving mother and son together.

Mrs. Powell had laid aside her mourning garments and wore a dress of blue muslin which heightened her beauty, and as the orphan looked from her to Gertrude she found it difficult to decide who was the loveliest.  After a few desultory remarks she rose, saying: 

“As you have repeatedly expressed a desire to examine the park and hothouses, I will show you the way this afternoon.”

“Take care, my love, that you do not fatigue yourself,” were Mrs. Powell’s low, tenderly spoken words as her daughter rose to leave the room.

Edna went first to the greenhouse, and though her companion chattered ceaselessly, she took little interest in her exclamations of delight, and was conjecturing the probable cause of Mrs. Murray’s great indignation.

For some weeks she had been thrown frequently into the society of Mr. Hammond’s guests, and while her distrust of Mrs. Powell, her aversion to her melting, musical voice, increased at every interview, a genuine affection for Gertrude had taken root in her heart.

They were the same age, but one was an earnest women, the other a fragile, careless, gleeful, enthusiastic child.  Although the orphan found it impossible to make a companion of this beautiful, warm-hearted girl, who hated books and turned pale at the mention of study, still Edna liked to watch the lovely, radiant face, with its cheeks tinted like sea-shells, its soft, childish blue eyes sparkling with joyousness; and she began to caress and to love her, as she would have petted a canary or one of the spotted fawns gamboling over the lawn.