ions on the matter would not be known by
the tones of her voice. But innocent Picotee was as wily as a
religionist in sly elusions of the letter whilst infringing the spirit of
a dictum; and by talking very softly and earnestly about the wondrous
good she could do by remaining in the house as governess to the children,
and playing the part of lady's-maid to her sister at show times, she so
far coaxed Ethelberta out of her intentions that she almost accepted the
plan as a good one. It was agreed that for the present, at any rate,
Picotee should remain. Then a visit was made to Mrs. Chickerel's room,
where the remainder of the evening was passed; and harmony reigned in the
household.

19. ETHELBERTA'S DRAWING-ROOM

Picotee's heart was fitfully glad. She was near the man who had enlarged
her capacity from girl's to woman's, a little note or two of young
feeling to a whole diapason; and though nearness was perhaps not in
itself a great reason for felicity when viewed beside the complete
realization of all that a woman can desire in such circumstances, it was
much in comparison with the outer darkness of the previous time.

It became evident to all the family that some misunderstanding had arisen
between Ethelberta and Mr. Julian. What Picotee hoped in the centre of
her heart as to the issue of the affair it would be too complex a thing
to say. If Christopher became cold towards her sister he would not come
to the house; if he continued to come it would really be as Ethelberta's
lover--altogether, a pretty game of perpetual check for Picotee.

He did not make his appearance for several days. Picotee, being a
presentable girl, and decidedly finer-natured than her sisters below
stairs, was allowed to sit occasionally with Ethelberta in the afternoon,
when the teaching of the little ones had been done for the day; and thus
she had an opportunity of observing Ethelberta's emotional condition with
reference to Christopher, which Picotee did with an interest that the
elder sister was very far from suspecting.

At first Ethelberta seemed blithe enough without him. One more day went,
and he did not come, and then her manner was that of apathy. Another day
passed, and from fanciful elevations of the eyebrow, and long breathings,
it became apparent that Ethelberta had decidedly passed the indifferent
stage, and was getting seriously out of sorts about him. Next morning
she looked all hope. He did not come that d