e bonnie lass what ye like. Now stand up and
let me at ye. That's the gown. My word! thae thistles are fine.
Hoots! ye needna mind wearin' that gown, auld as ye be. The thistle
'll do its part.'

'I do wish, girl, you'd atop talking,' said Miss Delacour, and Magsie
of the black hair and black eyes and glowing complexion glanced at her
new mistress and thought it prudent to obey.

She did manage to arrange Miss Delacour's hair 'brawly,' as she called
it, for, as it proved, she had a real talent for hairdressing, and the
good lady inwardly resolved to train this ignorant Margaret for the
school.

She went downstairs presently in her thistle dress. The five little
girls were clad very simply all in white. The five boys wore Eton
jackets, and looked what they were, most gentlemanly young fellows.
Mrs Constable, in a pale shade of gray, was altogether charming; and
nothing could excel the courteous manners of George Lennox.

Every one was inclined to be kind to the stranger, and as it was the
stranger's intention to make a good impression on account of her
scheme, she led the conversation at dinner, ignoring the ten children,
and devoting herself to her brother-in-law and Mrs Constable.

When Miss Delacour was not present there were always wild games, not to
say romps, after dinner, but she seemed in some extraordinary way to
put an extinguisher on the candle of their fun. So deeply was this
manifest that Mrs Constable went back to The Paddock with her five boys
shortly after dinner; and Mr Lennox, seeing that he must make the best
of things, gave a hint to Jasmine that they had better leave him alone
with their mother's half-sister.

The boys had groaned audibly at this ending of their evening's fun.
Hollyhock looked defiant and even wicked; but when daddy whispered to
her, 'The sooner she lets out her scheme, the sooner I can get rid of
her,' the little girls ran upstairs hand-in-hand, all of them singing
at the top of their voices:

And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.'

CHAPTER IV.

THE PALACE OF THE KINGS.

Miss Agnes Delacour was the last person to let the grass grow under her
feet. She, as she expressed it to herself, 'cornered' her
brother-in-law as soon as the five little girls tripped off to bed.
There was nothing, she said inwardly, like taking the bull by the
horns. Accordingly she at