suspected by himself. And, oddly enough, Dora was equally cross, and
had a fit of untowardness unequalled since the combats at her first
arrival, till I was almost provoked into acquiescence in Eustace's
threat of sending her to school.

The journey was at last accomplished; Harold only parted with the
Tracys at Arked House, after having helped to carry Dermot to the room
that had been prepared for him on the ground-floor.

I rode over the next afternoon to inquire, and was delighted to meet
Viola close within the gate. We sent away my horse, and she drew me
into her favourite path while answering my questions that Dermot had
had a good night and was getting up; I should find him in the
drawing-room if I waited a little while. She could have me all to
herself, for mamma was closeted with Uncle Ery, talking over
things--and on some word or sound of mine betraying that I guessed what
things, it broke out.

"How could you let him do it, Lucy? You, at least, must have known
better."

"My dear, how could I have stopped him, with all St. George's Channel
between us?"

"Well, at any rate, you might persuade them all to have a little sense,
and not treat me as if I was one of the elegant females in 'Pride and
Prejudice,' who only refuse for fun! Is not that enough to drive one
frantic, Lucy? Can't you at least persuade the man himself?"

"Only one person can do that, Viola."

"But I can't! That's the horrid part of it. I can't get rid of it.
Mamma says I am a foolish child. I could tell her of other people more
foolish than I am. I can see the difference between sham and reality,
if they can't."

"I don't think he means to be sham," I rambled into defence of Eustace.

"Means it! No, he hasn't the sense. I believe he really thinks it was
he who saved Dermot's life as entirely as mamma does."

"No. Now do they really?"

"Of course, as they do with everything. It's always 'The page slew the
boar, the peer had the gloire.'"

"It's the page's own fault," I said. "He only wants the peer to have
the gloire."

"And very disagreeable and deceitful it is of him," cried Viola; "only
he hasn't got a scrap of deceit in him, and that's the reason he does
it so naturally. No, you may tell them that borrowed plumes won't
always serve, and there are things that can't be done by deputy."

And therewith Viola, perhaps perceiving what she had betrayed, turned
more crimson than ever, and hid her face against me wi