ladies said their prayers by the morning twitter
of the birds, and went to their beds, less from a desire for rest than
because custom demanded it.

Three days later Emilia was a resident in the house, receiving lessons
in demeanour from Cornelia, and in horsemanship from Wilfrid. She
expressed no gratitude for kindnesses or wonder at the change in her
fortune, save that pleasure sat like an inextinguishable light on her
face. A splendid new harp arrived one day, ticketed, "For Miss Emilia
Belloni."

"He does not know I have a second Christian name," was her first remark,
after an examination of the instrument.

"'He?'" quoth Adela. "May it not have been a lady's gift?"

Emilia clearly thought not.

"And to whom do you ascribe it?"

"Who sent it to me? Mr. Pericles, of course."

She touched the strings immediately, and sighed.

"Are you discontented with the tone, child?" asked Adela.

"No. I--I'll guess what it cost!"

Surely the ladies had reason to think her commonplace!

She explained herself better to Wilfrid, when he returned to Brookfield
after a short absence. Showing the harp, "See what Mr. Pericles thinks
me worth!" she said.

"Not more than that?" was his gallant rejoinder. "Does it suit you?"

"Yes; in every way."

This was all she said about it.

In the morning after breakfast, she sat at harp or piano, and then ran
out to gather wild flowers and learn the names of trees and birds. On
almost all occasions Wilfrid was her companion. He laughed at the little
sisterly revelations the ladies confided concerning her too heartily for
them to have any fear that she was other than a toy to him. Few women
are aware with how much ease sentimental men can laugh outwardly at what
is internal torment. They had apprised him of their wish to know what
her origin was, and of her peculiar reserve on that topic: whereat he
assured them that she would have no secrets from him. His conduct of
affairs was so open that none could have supposed the gallant cornet
entangled in a maze of sentiment. For, veritably, this girl was the
last sort of girl to please his fancy; and he saw not a little of fair
ladies: by virtue of his heroic antecedents, he was himself well seen
of them. The gallant cornet adored delicacy and a gilded refinement. The
female flower could not be too exquisitely cultivated to satisfy him.
And here he was, running after a little unformed girl, who had no
care to conceal the fact that she was