“Oh no, my dear, generous child, Mrs. Brownlow was quite as well provided for as she had any right to expect.  You need have no anxieties on that score.”

To Elvira, the change from River Hollow to the Pagoda had been from rustic to gentle life, and thus this reply sounded plausible enough to silence a not much awakened compassion, but she still said, “Why can’t I go home?  I’ve nowhere else to go.  I could not stay at the Farm,” she added in her usual uncomplimentary style.

“No, my dear, I should not think of it.  An establishment must be formed, but in the meantime, it would be quite beneath you to return to Mrs. Brownlow, again to become the prey of underground machinations.  Besides, how awkward it would be while the lawsuits are going on.  Impossible!  No my dear, you must only return to Belforest in a triumphal procession.  Surely there must be a competition for my lovely child among more congenial friends.”

“Well,” said Elvira, “there were the Folliots.  We met them at Nice, and Lady Flora did ask me the other day, but Mrs. Brownlow does not like them, and Allen says they are not good form.”

“Ah!  I knew you could not want for friends.  You are not bound by those who want to keep you to themselves for reasons of their own.”

Thus before Elvira brought her aunt down stairs, enough had been done to make her eager to be with one who would discuss her future splendour rather than deplore the change to her benefactor, and thus she readily accepted a proposal she would naturally have scouted, to go out driving with Mrs. Gould.  She came back in a mood of exulting folly, and being far too shallow and loquacious to conceal anything, she related in full all Mrs. Gould’s insinuations, which, to do her justice, the poor child did not really understand.  But Sydney did, and was furious at the ingratitude which could seem almost flattered.  Mrs. Evelyn found the two girls in a state of hot reproach and recrimination, and cut the matter short by treating them as if they were little children, and ordering them both off to their rooms to dress for dinner.

Elvira went away sobbing, and saying that nobody cared for her; everybody was wrapped up in the Brownlows, who had been enjoying what was hers ever so long.

And Sydney presently burst into her mother’s room to pour out her disgust and indignation against the heartless, ungrateful, intolerable—-

“Only foolish, my dear, and left all day in the hands of a flattering, designing woman.”

“To let such things be said.  Mamma, did you hear—-?”

“I had rather not hear, Sydney; and I desire you will not repeat them to any one.  Be careful, if you talk to Jock to-night.  To repeat words spoken in her present mood might do exceeding mischief.”

“She speaks as if she meant to cast them all off—-Allen and all.”

“Very possibly she may see things differently when she wakes to-morrow.  But Sydney, while she is here, the whole subject must be avoided.  It would not be acting fairly to use any influence in favour of our friends.”