s. "I know you must see a great deal of
him. I only want you to take care--appearances are appearances, and if
it was said you had all these young officers always coming about--"

"I don't think they will come. It was only just to call, and they
have known me so long. It is all out of respect to my father and Sir
Stephen," said Fanny, meekly as ever. "Indeed, I would not for the
world do anything you did not like, dear aunt; but there can't be any
objection to my having Mrs. Hammond and the children to spend the day
to-morrow."

Mrs. Curtis did not like it; she had an idea that all military ladies
were dashing and vulgar, but she could not say there was any objection,
so she went on to the head of poor Fanny's offending. "This young man,
my dear, he seems to make himself very intimate."

"Alick Keith? Oh aunt!" said Fanny, more surprised than by all the
rest; "don't you know about him? His father and mother were our greatest
friends always; I used to play with him every day till I came to you.
And then just as I married, poor Mrs. Keith died, and we had dear little
Bessie with us till her father could send her home. And when poor Alick
was so dreadfully wounded before Delhi, Sir Stephen sent him up in a
litter to the hills for mamma and me to nurse. Mamma was so fond of him,
she used to call him her son."

"Yes, my dear, I dare say you have been very intimate; but you see you
are very young; and his staying here--"

"I thought he would be so glad to come and be with the Colonel, who was
his guardian and Bessie's," said Fanny, "and I have promised to have
Bessie to stay with me, she was such a dear little thing--"

"Well, my dear, it may be a good thing for you to have a young lady with
you, and if he is to come over, her presence will explain it. Understand
me, my dear, I am not at all afraid of your--your doing anything
foolish, only to get talked of is so dreadful in your situation, that
you can't be too careful."

"Yes, yes, thank you, dear aunt," murmured the drooping and subdued
Fanny, aware how much the remonstrance must cost her aunt, and sure that
she must be in fault in some way, if she could only see how. "Please,
dear aunt, help me, for indeed I don't know how to manage--tell me how
to be civil and kind to my dear husband's friends without--without--"

Her voice broke down, though she kept from tears as an unkindness to her
aunt.

In very fact, little as she knew it, she could not have defended hers