do anything of _that sort?_ But I thought you
might know. Do you remember their first settling here?'

'Scarcely. I was a very small child then.'

Miss Nugent had a few vague recollections which she did not think it
expedient to mention. A dim remembrance rose before her of mysterious
whisperings about that beautiful young widow, and that it had been said
that the rector of the Old Church had declared himself to know the
ladies well, and had heartily recommended them. She thought it wiser
only to speak of having been one of their first scholars, telling of
the awe Miss Headworth inspired; but the pleasure it was to bring a
lesson to pretty Mrs. Egremont, who always rewarded a good one with a
kiss, 'and she was so nice to kiss--yes, and is.'

'Aunt Ursel and mother both were governesses,' continued the girl, 'and
yet they don't want me to go out. They had rather I was a teacher at
the High School.'

'They don't want to trust their Little Bear out in the world.'

'I think it is more than that,' said the girl. 'I can't help thinking
that he--my father--must have been some one rather grand, with such a
beautiful name as Alwyn Piercefield Egremont. Yes; I know it was that,
for I saw my baptismal certificate when I stood for the scholarship; it
was Dieppe,--Ursula Alice, daughter of Alwyn Piercefield and Alice
Elizabeth Egremont, May 15, 1860. James Everett--I think he was the
chaplain at Dieppe.'

Mary Nugent thought it the wisest way to laugh and say: 'You, of all
people in the world, to want to make out a connection with the
aristocracy!'

'True love is different,' said Ursula. 'He must have been cast off by
his family for her sake, and have chosen poverty--

"To make the croon a pund, my Alwyn gaed to sea,
And the croon and the pund, they were baith for me."'

Miss Mary did not think a yacht a likely place for the conversion of a
croon into a pound, and the utter silence of mother and aunt did not
seem to her satisfactory; but she feared either to damp the youthful
enthusiasm for the lost father, or to foster curiosity that might lead
to some painful discovery, so she took refuge in an inarticulate sound.

'I think Mr. Dutton knows,' proceeded Nuttie.

'You don't mean to ask him?'

'Catch me! I know how he would look at me.'

'Slang! A forfeit!'

'Oh, it's holiday time, and the boarders can't hear. There's Mr.
Dutton's door!'

This might in one way be a relief to Miss Nugent,