verley novels.'

'Why, they are as bad as history! Jim brought one home once, and pa
wanted me to read it, but I could not get on with it--all about a stupid
king of France. I'm sure if I married a lord I'd make him do something
nicer.'

'I mean ma to do something more jolly,' said Ida, 'when we get more
money, and I am come out. I mean to go to balls and tennis parties, and
I shall be sure to marry a lord at some of them.'

'And you will take me,' cried Sibyl.

'Only you must be very genteel,' said Ida. 'Try to learn style, _do_,
dear. It must be learnt young, you know! Why, there's Aunt Mary, when
she has got ever so beautiful a satin dress on, she does not look half so
stylish as Lady Adela walking up the road in an old felt hat and a
shepherd's-plaid waterproof! But they all do dress so as I should be
ashamed. Only think what a scrape that got Herbert into. He was coming
back one Saturday from his tutor's, and he saw walking up to the house an
awfully seedy figure of fun, in an old old ulster, and such a hat as you
never saw, with a knapsack on her back, and a portfolio under her arm.
So of course he thought it was a tramp with something to sell, and he
holloaed out, "You'd better come out of this! We want none of your
sort." She just turned round and laughed, which put him in such a rage,
that though she began to speak he didn't wait, but told her to have done
with her sauce, or he would call the keepers. He thinks she said, "You'd
better," and I believe he did move his stick a little.'

'Ida, have done with that!' cried Herbert's voice close to her. 'Hold
your tongue, or I'll--' and his hand was near her hair.

'Oh, don't, don't, Herbert. Let me hear,' cried Sibyl.

'That's the way girls go on,' said Herbert fiercely, 'with their nonsense
and stuff.'

'But who--?'

'If you go on, Ida--' he was clutching her braid.

Sibyl sprang to the defence, and there was a general struggle and romp
interspersed with screams, which was summarily stopped by Mr. Rollstone
explaining severely, 'If you think that is the deportment of the
aristocracy, Miss Ida, you are much mistaken.'

'Bother the aristocracy!' broke out Herbert.

Calm was restored by a summons to a round game, but Sibyl's curiosity was
of course insatiable, and as she sat next to Herbert, she employed
various blandishments and sympathetic whispers, and after a great deal of
fuss, and 'What will you give me if I tell?' to extract the end o