"I didn't even know you had a brother," returned Lettice; "and I never
dreamt you'd do such an idiotic thing as rush at him like that. He
evidently didn't appreciate it."

"No! I thought he'd be more glad to see me," gulped Honor, not the
least part of whose trouble had been Dermot's cold reception of her
enthusiastic greeting.

"How silly you are! Does any boy care to parade his sister before his
whole school? I expect he'll get tremendously chaffed about this, poor
fellow! Really, Paddy, you ought to know better!"

Considerably chastened by Lettice's crushing remarks, Honor subsided
into silence, and only reopened the subject when, in company with Janie
Henderson, she had retired after dinner to a spot overlooking the
playing-fields. It was a warm, beautiful afternoon, a day when you
could almost hear the buds bursting and the flowers opening. The two
girls spread their jerseys on the grass, and sat basking in the
sunshine, watching a lark soar up into the blue overhead, or the
seagulls flapping leisurely round the cliffs; or listening to the caw
of the jackdaws that, in company with a flock of starlings, were
feeding in a neighbouring ploughed field. The sea lay a sparkling sheet
of pearly grey, and Honor looked wistfully at its broad expanse when
she remembered that its farther waves washed the rocky shores of
Ireland.

Janie was the only girl at St. Chad's to whom she cared to mention her
home. With the others she could exchange jokes, but not confidences;
and though she returned their banter with interest, she did not look to
them for sympathy. Janie seemed altogether different from the rest; she
never laughed at Honor, and even if she remonstrated, it was in such a
gentle, apologetic way that the most touchy of Celtic natures could not
have taken offence.

Miss Maitland had not overlooked the episode of the morning. She had
had a few words to say after their return from church, and Honor, in
consequence, was feeling rather sore, and ready to pour out her
grievances into her friend's ears.

"It's too bad!" she declared. "If you can't speak to your own brother,
to whom may you speak, I should like to know? It seems absurd that
Dermot should be living at the Grange, not two miles off, and yet we're
never to see one another. I thought I should at least meet him once a
week, and now I mayn't even say, 'How do you do?' without being scolded
as if I had committed a highway robbery."

"Is he your favourite bro