The day was long, for Amoret was missed; and the two children were unusually fretful and quarrelsome without her, disputing over the new toys which Brother Amyas’s guinea had furnished in demoralising profusion.  It was strange too see the difference made by the loss of the child who would give up anything rather than meet a look of vexation, and would coax the others into immediate good humour.  There was reaction, too, after the excitement, for which the inexperienced Aurelia did not allow.  At the twentieth bickering as to which doll should ride on the spotted hobby-horse, the face of Letty’s painted wooden baby received a scar, and Fay’s lost a leg, whereupon Aurelia’s endurance entirely gave way, and she pronounced them both naughty children, and sent them to bed before supper.

Then her heart smote her for unkindness, and she sat in the firelight listless and sad, though she hardly knew why, longing to go up and pet and comfort her charges, but withheld by the remembrance of Betty’s assurances that leniency, in a like case, would be the ruin of Eugene.

At last Jumbo came to summon her, and hastily recalling a cheerful air, she entered the room with “Good evening, sir; you see I am still here to trouble you.”

“I continue to profit by my gentle friend’s banishment.  Tell me, was my Lady in a gracious mood?”

“O sir, how beautiful she is, and how kind!  I know now why my father was so devoted to her, and no one can ever gainsay her!”

“The enchantress knows how to cast her spells.  She was then friendly?”

“She gave me five guineas!” said Aurelia exultingly.  “She said Mr. Wayland wished to recompense me.”

“Did he so?  If it came from him I should have expected a more liberal sum.”

“But, oh!” in a tone of infinite surprise and content, “this is more than I ever thought of.  Indeed I never dreamt of her giving me anything.  Sir, may I write to your bookseller, Mr. Tonson, and order a book of Mr. James Thomson’s Seasons to give to my sister Harriet, who is delighted with the extracts I have copied for her?”

“Will not that consume a large proportion of the five guineas, my generous friend?”

“I have enough left.  There is a new gown which I never have worn, which will serve for the new clothes my Lady spoke of to receive her son’s bride.”

“She entered on that subject then?”

“Only for a moment as she took leave.  Oh, sir, is it possible that she can know all about this young lady?”

“What have you heard of her?”

“Sir, they say she is a dreadful little vixen.”

“Who say?  Is she known at Carminster?”

“No, sir,” said Aurelia, disconcerted.  “It was from Nurse Dove that
I heard what Sir Amyas’s man said when he came back from Battlefield. 
I know my sister would chide me for listening to servants.”

“Nevertheless I should be glad to hear.  Was the servant old Grey?  Then he is to be depended on.  What did he say?”