e with Flora. Poor Lilias was nothing,
compared to the friend she had just made. She was glad to know that
Flora was going to spend a couple of days at Glendower. She earnestly
hoped that she might see a good deal of her during these few days.

The evening passed somehow, and Ermie managed to escape to her room
without again meeting her father.

Petite was helping her to undress, when to her surprise Lady Russell
herself came in.

"My dear little Ermengarde," she said. She went up to the young girl
and kissed her affectionately. "You can leave us, Petite," said Lady
Russell to the maid. When they were alone, she turned to Ermie.

"My love, I am sorry to appear interfering, but you are a motherless
little girl. Your dress to-night was very unsuitable."

"Aunt Elizabeth gave it to me," said Ermengarde, pouting.

"Yes, my dear; but, pardon me, we won't go into the question of how
you came by the dress. You are at least ten years too young to be
dressed in a fanciful costume of that kind. Your father does not wish
you to wear that dress again, Ermie, nor to arrange your hair as you
did to-night. Have you got a simple white dress with you, my child?"

"No," said Ermie, still pouting and frowning; "I thought the white
_chiffon_ was exactly what I needed."

"Poor child, you sadly miss your mother. Well, my love, don't do it
again; that's all. I will get Petite to alter one of Lilias's frocks
for you to wear to-morrow evening. Now, good-night, dear; sleep sound.
I am glad you have come to keep our Lilias company for a few days."

Lady Russell kissed Ermengarde and left her. She took no notice of the
little girl's sullen face, nor of her rude manner. She went away
looking what she was, a gracious motherly woman.

"I am deeply sorry, both for Ermengarde and her father," she said to
herself. "Anyone can see that the poor man does not know how to manage
all those children. Marjorie takes after her sweet mother, but
Ermengarde! she is not an easy child to influence, and yet what a
beautiful face she has!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

IN THE TOILS.

The summer at Glendower was always a gay time. The house was usually
full of guests, and as there were horses and carriages, and a yacht
and a sailboat, as well as two or three rowboats, the guests had
certainly all possible advantages of locomotion.

The next morning was a glorious one, and Lilias and Ermie, after
breakfasting together in Lilias's own special boudoir, put on