opportunity along with it, and fell into useless scolding.

"You are extremely inconsequent and childish sometimes, Damaris," she
said. "I find it most trying when I attempt to talk to you upon practical
subjects, really pressing subjects, and you either cannot or will not
concentrate. What can you expect in the future when you are thrown more
on your own resources, and have not me--for instance--always to depend
upon, if you moon through life like this? It must lead to great
discomfort not only for yourself but for others. Pray be warned in time."

Damaris turned in her chair at the head of the table. A station not
unconnected, in Theresa's mind, with the internal ordering of those same
air-built castles, and consistently if furtively coveted by her. To Sir
Charles's chair at the bottom of the table, she dared not aspire, so
during his absence reluctantly retained her accustomed place at the side.

"You need not wait any longer, Mary," Damaris said, over her shoulder.

"Why?" Theresa began fussily, as the two maids left the room.

"Why?" Damaris took her up. "Because I prefer our being alone during
the remainder of this conversation. I understand that you want to ask
me about something to do with this excursion to Harchester. What is
it, please?"

"My dear Damaris," the other protested, startled and scenting unexpected
danger, "really your manner"--

"And yours.--Both perhaps would bear improvement. But that is by the way.
What is it, please, you want?"

"Really you assert yourself"--

"And you forget yourself--before the servants, too, I do not like it at
all. You should be more careful."

"Damaris," she cried aghast, confounded to the verge of tears--"Damaris!"

"Yes--I am giving you my full attention. Pray let us be practical," the
young girl said, sitting up tall and straight in the shaded lamp-light,
the white dinner-table spread with gleaming glass and silver, fine china,
fruit and flowers before her, the soft gloom of the long low room behind,
all tender hint of childhood banished from her countenance, and her eyes
bright now not with laughter but with battle. "Pray let us finish with
the subject of the choir treat. Then we shall be free to talk about more
interesting things."

Miss Bilson waved her hands hysterically.

"No--no--I never wish to mention it again. I am too deeply hurt by your
behaviour to me, Damaris--your sarcasm.--Of course," she added, "I see I
must withdraw my offer. It will caus