entimental voice.

"That's what I thought," said Antonia. "I'll never be anybody's
_fiancee_--the mere thought would make me ill--but that's neither here
nor there. Granted that you have influence over Sir John, I want you to
use it in my way--now, do you understand?"

"Really, Antonia, really,"--Mrs. Bernard Temple looked quite
alarmed--"Sir John cannot bear erratic people, he tells me so from
morning to night. I am afraid you have managed to displease him very
seriously, my dear. When you spilt your tea in the garden this evening,
he acknowledged, when I pressed him on the subject, that it gave him
quite a sense of nausea. You see, Antonia, how careful you ought to be.
The comforts of the home I have provided for you may be jeopardised if
you are too erratic. You know I did not wish you to come to the Grange
until after my wedding. The fact is, Sir John is very much annoyed about
you. He has spoken to me most seriously on the subject of your
extraordinary manners, and has asked me why I permit you to do the
things you do. When I tell him that I have not the smallest scrap of
influence over you, he simply does not believe me; and then he has such
an aggravating way of drawing comparisons between you and that
icy-mannered girl, Hester."

"Oh, I'm not a patch upon Hester," said Antonia; "she is a very nice,
well-bred, English young lady. I'm Bohemian of the Bohemians. I'm
nobody--nobody at all. I extinguish myself at the shrine of great Art.
I love to extinguish myself. I adore being a shadow."

"I think, Antonia, you are quite mad."

"Think it away, my dearest mother, only grant my request; influence Sir
John in my way."

"Oh, you terrible, terrible child! Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Now you're becoming reasonable," said Antonia, "and I really won't keep
you from your hair a moment longer than I can help. I went to the Towers
this morning, mother; it's really a heavenly old place; quite steeped in
the best sort of mediaeval art. In the house, old china and low ceilings;
out of doors, nature untrammelled. Think of a place like the Towers in
the possession of Susy Drummond and her father, the ex-coal-merchant.
Mother, it is not to be."

"My dear Antonia, I can't listen to you another moment." Mrs. Bernard
Temple rose as she spoke. "Pinkerton, come at once," she called.

Pinkerton turned the handle of the door.

"Go away, Pinkerton!" shouted Antonia. "Now, mother, sit down; there's
oceans of time."

"