s were
rowing, noticed those absurd boys who were called after precious
stones, forsooth! and made up her mind to be pleasant with Cecilia and
her family, and to say nothing of her designs to her brother-in-law
until the children had gone to bed. She presumed at least that they
went to bed early. A little creature like Dorothy ought to be in her
warm nest not later than half-past seven. Lucy and Margaret might be
permitted to sit up till nine. Afterwards she, Miss Delacour, could
have a good talk with George Lennox. She invariably spoke of him as
George Lennox, ignoring the Honourable, for she had no respect for the
semblance of a title.

By opening her window very wide, she was able to get a distant glimpse
of the much-neglected Palace. She observed, with approval, the vast
size of the house, the abundance of trees, the glass-houses, the
hothouses, the remains of ancient splendour. Then she looked at the
lake, which shone and gleamed in all its summer glory; but she turned
her thoughts from the sad history of that lake. She was not a woman to
romance over things. She was a woman to go straight forward in a
matter-of-fact, downright fashion.

Happening to meet one of the girls at an hour between tea and dinner,
she inquired at what time their father dined.

'We all dine at half-past seven,' replied Hollyhock.

'You _all_ dine at half-past seven? How old are you, Jacqueline?'

'Nearly thirteen, Auntie Agnes,' replied the girl, tossing her black
mane of lovely, thick hair.

'And do you mean to tell me that little Dorothy, who cannot be more
than eight or nine years old, takes her last heavy meal at half-past
seven in the evening? Such folly is really past believing.'

'Auntie, you must believe it, for wee Delphy always dines with the rest
of us. And why shouldn't she?'

'Now, my dear child, as to your father's strange conduct, it is not my
place to speak of it before his unhappy and ill-bred child, but I have
one request to make. It is this--that you do not again in my presence
call your sister by that sickening name.'

'But, auntie, _we_ think it a very lovely name. We like our flower
names so much. Auntie, I do wish that you'd go. We were so happy
without you, auntie. Do go and leave us in peace.'

'You certainly are the most impertinent little girl I ever met in my
life; but times, thank the good God, are changing.'

'Are they? How, may I ask?' inquired Hollyhock.

'That I am not going