This the young lady lid not like, for she was already feeling it a sort of presumption in the girl to bear a name so nearly resembling her mother’s.  She had seen a little cottage poverty, and had had a class of little maidservants; but this level of life which is in no want, keeps a best parlour, and does not say ma’am, was quite new to her, and she did not fancy it.  When the girls were left together, while Mrs. Giles returned to her ironing, Gillian was the shyer of the two, and began rather awkwardly and reluctantly—–­

’Miss Mohun thought you would like to hear this.  It is a sort of German fairy tale.’

Lilian said, ‘Yes, Miss Merrifield’ in a short dry tone, completing Gillian’s distaste, and she began to read, not quite at her best, and was heartily glad when at the end of half an hour Mrs. Giles was heard in parley with another visitor, so that she had an excuse for going away without attempting conversation.  She was overtaken by the children on their way home from their schools, where they had dined.  They rushed upon her, together with the two Varleys, who wanted to take them home to tea; and Gillian giving her ready consent, Fergus dashed home to fetch his beloved humming-top, which was to be introduced to Clement Varley’s pump, and in a few minutes they were off, hardly vouchsafing an answer to such comparatively trifling inquiries as how they were placed at their schools.

Gillian found, however, that neither of her aunts was pleased at her having consented to the children’s going out without reference to their authority.  How did she suppose they were to come home?

‘I did not think, can’t they be fetched?’ said Gillian, startled.

‘It is not far,’ said Adeline, pitying her.  ‘One of the maids—–­’

‘My dear Ada!’ exclaimed Aunt Jane.  ’You know that Fanny cannot go out at night with her throat, and I never will send out those young girls on any account.’

‘Can’t I go?’ said Gillian desperately.

‘Are not you a young girl?  I must go myself.’

And go she did at a quarter to eight, and brought home the children, looking much injured.  Gillian went upstairs with them, and there was an outburst.

’It was horrid to be fetched home so soon, just as there was a chance of something nice; when all the tiresome big ones had gone to dress, and we could have had some real fun,’ said Valetta.

‘Real fun!  Real sense!’ said Fergus.

‘But what had you been about all this time?’

’Why, their sisters and a man that was there would come and drink tea in the nursery, where nobody wanted them, and make us play their play.

’Wasn’t that nice?  You are always crying out for Harry and me to come and play with you.’

‘Oh, it wasn’t like that,’ said Val, ’you play with us, and they only pretended, and played with each other.  It wasn’t nice.’

‘Clem said it was—–­forking,’ said Fergus.