nd she determined to
seize the first opportunity of a private conference with her mother.

It was not easy to secure a _tete-a-tete_ in the house of Connor. On
this particular evening, Trix was practising scales on the piano in the
drawing-room, while Mollie read a novel, and Betty lolled on the rug;
the three boys were busy at lessons, or, as they eloquently described
it, "stewing," round the dining-room table. Mr Connor was smoking his
pipe and reading the evening papers in his den at the back of the house;
and the little, white-faced mother moved incessantly from room to room,
no sooner settled in one place than she was seized with an anxious
presentiment that she was needed elsewhere.

She was pretty still, in a pathetic, faded manner; and wherever she went
she spoke loving, gentle words, and met loving glances in response: but,
alas, her efforts seemed rather distracting than helpful! She stroked
Drummond's hair, and asked if he was sure his throat was better, just as
he was on the point of completing a difficult addition; she told her
husband the tragic history of the cook's impertinence, and handed him a
heavy bill, when the poor man was enjoying the first quiet rest of the
day; she requested Mollie's advice about spare-room curtains at the
moment when long-separated lovers were united, and it was agony to lift
one's eyes from the page for the fraction of a second.

Husband and children alike answered gently and with courtesy, for, if
there was little else, there was plenty of love in this shabby
household, and the little mother was the central figure round which
everything revolved; nevertheless, her departure was marked by half-
involuntary sighs of relief, as if a disturbing element had been
withdrawn.

Ruth knew that she would have to bide her time until the younger members
of the family had retired to bed; but, too restless to settle down to
any definite occupation, she drifted across the drawing-room to where
Trix sat, her fingers scrambling up and down the notes of the piano.
Trix was tall and lanky; she had grey eyes, set far apart, a _retrousse_
nose, dotted over with quite a surprising number of freckles, and an
untidy shock of light-brown hair.

In years to come it was possible that she might develop into a pretty
girl; at the present moment she despised appearances, and certainly
failed to make the best of her good points. Now, as she sat by the
piano-stool, with shoulders hunched up and head