a cruel man, and you helped to kill my dear mamma.'

"It was a characteristic little note, and was signed 'Pauline
L'Estrange.' My father's anger on receiving it was very great. I confess
that I was more amused than angry.

"My father, Miss Hastings, lived to a good old age. I was not a young
man when I succeeded him. He left me all his property. You must
understand the Darrell and Audleigh Royal estates are not entailed. He
made no mention in his will of the only grandchild he had; but, after I
had arranged all my affairs, I resolved to find her. For ten years I
have been doing all I could--sending to France, Italy, Spain, and every
country where I thought it possible the artist might have sought refuge.

"Three months since I received a letter from him, written on his
death-bed, asking me to do something for Pauline, who had grown up into
a beautiful girl of seventeen. I found then that he had been living for
some years in the Rue d'Orme, Paris. I buried him, brought his daughter
to England, and made arrangements whereby she should assume the name of
Darrell. But I little knew what a task I had undertaken. Pauline ought
to be my heiress, Miss Hastings. She ought to succeed me at Darrell
Court. I have no other relatives. But--well, I will not despair; you
will see what can be done with her."

"What are her deficiencies?" asked Miss Hastings.

Sir Oswald raised his white hands with a gesture of despair.

"I will tell you briefly. She has lived among artists. She does not seem
to have ever known any of her own sex. She is--I am sorry to use the
word--a perfect Bohemian. Whether she can be transformed into anything
faintly resembling a lady, I cannot tell. Will you undertake the task,
Miss Hastings?"

She looked very thoughtful for some minutes, and then answered:

"I will do my best, Sir Oswald."

"I thank you very much. You must permit me to name liberal terms, for
your task will be no light one."

And the interview ended, to their mutual satisfaction.

CHAPTER II.

"DARRELL COURT IS A PRISON TO ME!"

It was a beautiful May day, bright with fresh spring loveliness. The
leaves were springing fresh and green from the trees; the hedges were
all abloom with pink hawthorn; the chestnut trees were all in flower;
the gold of the laburnum, the purple of the lilac, the white of the fair
acacia trees, and the delicate green of the stately elms and limes gave
a beautiful variety of color. The grass was dotte