But still Beatrice’s great aim was, unconsciously perhaps, to keep the two boys entirely devoted to herself, and to exert her power.  Wonderful power it was in reality, which kept them interested in employment so little accordant with their nature; kept them amused without irreverence, and doing good service all the time.  But it was a power of which she greatly enjoyed the exercise, and which did nothing to lessen the rivalry between them.  As to Henrietta, she was sitting apart on a hassock, very happy, and very busy in arranging the Monogram and wreath which she had yesterday proposed.  She was almost forgotten by the other three—­certainly neglected—­but she did not feel it so; she had rather be quiet, for she could not work and talk like Queen Bee; and she liked to think over the numerous verses and hymns that her employment brought to her mind.  Uncle Geoffrey’s conversation dwelt upon her too; she began to realize his meaning, and she was especially anxious to fulfil his desire, by entreating Fred to beware of temptations to disobedience.  Opportunities for private interviews were, however, very rare at Knight Sutton, and she had been looking forward to having him all to herself here, when he must wish to visit his father’s grave with her.  She was vexed for a moment that his first attention was not given to it; but she knew that his first thought was there, and boys never showed what was uppermost in their minds to anyone but their sisters.  She should have him by and by, and the present was full of tranquil enjoyment.

If Henrietta had been free from blame in coming to Knight Sutton at all, or in her way of leaving the house this morning, there would have been little or no drawback to our pleasure in contemplating her.

“Is it possible!” exclaimed Queen Bee, as the last reverberation of the single stroke of the deep-toned clock fell quivering on her ear.  “I thought you would have given us at least eleven more.”

“What a quantity remains to be done!” sighed Henrietta, laying down the wreath which she had just completed.  “Your work looks beautiful, Queenie, but how shall we ever finish?”

“A short winter’s day, too!” said Beatrice.  “One thing is certain—­ that we can’t go home to luncheon.”

“What will grandmamma think of that?” said Henrietta doubtfully.  “Will she like it?”

Beatrice could have answered, “Not at all;” but she said, “O never mind, it can’t be helped; we should be late even if we were to set off now, and besides we might be caught and stopped.”

“Oh, that would be worse than anything,” said Henrietta, quite convinced.

“So you mean to starve,” said Alex.

“See what slaves men are to creature comforts,” said Beatrice; “what do you say, Henrietta?”

“I had much rather stay here,” said Henrietta; “I want nothing.”

“Much better fun to go without,” said Fred, who had not often enough missed a regular meal not to think doing so an honour and a joke.