the side of the door, and went into the garden.

Chapter VIII.

Mrs. Presty Makes a Discovery.

The dinner-party had come to an end; the neighbors had taken their
departure; and the ladies at Mount Morven had retired for the night.

On the way to her room Mrs. Presty knocked at her daughter's door. "I
want to speak to you, Catherine. Are you in bed?"

"No, mamma. Come in."

Robed in a dressing-gown of delicately-mingled white and blue, and
luxuriously accommodated on the softest pillows that could be placed in
an armchair, Mrs. Linley was meditating on the events of the evening.
"This has been the most successful party we have ever given," she
said to her mother. "And did you notice how charmingly pretty Miss
Westerfield looked in her new dress?"

"It's about that girl I want to speak to you," Mrs. Presty answered,
severely. "I had a higher opinion of her when she first came here than I
have now."

Mrs. Linley pointed to an open door, communicating with a second and
smaller bed-chamber. "Not quite so loud," she answered, "or you
might wake Kitty. What has Miss Westerfield done to forfeit your good
opinion?"

Discreet Mrs. Presty asked leave to return to the subject at a future
opportunity.

"I will merely allude now," she said, "to a change for the worse in your
governess, which you might have noticed when she left the drawing-room
this evening. She had a word or two with Herbert at the door; and she
left him looking as black as thunder."

Mrs. Linley laid herself back on her pillows and burst out laughing.
"Black as thunder? Poor little Sydney, what a ridiculous description of
her! I beg your pardon, mamma; don't be offended."

"On the contrary, my dear, I am agreeably surprised. Your poor father--a
man of remarkable judgment on most subjects--never thought much of
your intelligence. He appears to have been wrong; you have evidently
inherited some of my sense of humor. However, that is not what I wanted
to say; I am the bearer of good news. When we find it necessary to get
rid of Miss Westerfield--"

Mrs. Linley's indignation expressed itself by a look which, for the
moment at least, reduced her mother to silence. Always equal to the
occasion, however, Mrs. Presty's face assumed an expression of innocent
amazement, which would have produced a round of applause on the stage.
"What have I said to make you angry?" she inquired. "Surely, my dear,
you and your husband are extraordinary people."

"D