tening in the fixed face.

Mrs Saxon's heart sank heavily. Rowena's lack of response to her
appeal was a bitter disappointment; but she realised that it was useless
to prolong the interview. A few moments longer she waited, hoping
against hope for a word in reply, then stifling a sigh, she rose from
her seat.

"Well--I must go back to father. Look after the fire, darling, if you
are going to stay here. It is getting low, and you must not catch
cold."

She bent as she passed to kiss the unresponsive lips, and walked from
the room carrying a heavy heart in her breast. "If she had only spoken!
If she had even looked up and smiled!" Such was the wounded mother
cry; and all the time Rowena's heart was speeding unspoken messages
after her as she went.

"Mother! I'm sorry. You are so sweet, and I am a wretch! I _will_
try! I'll try my best!"

Alas! the ears of sense could not catch the message, and so the
opportunity passed, and left both hearts aching and oppressed.

CHAPTER SIX.

"What's `rejuiced'?" queried Maud, squeezing herself into the central
place on the big fender, as her brothers and sisters sat roasting
chestnuts by the schoolroom fire one wet afternoon a few days later, and
the question being received by a blank stare of bewilderment she
repeated the word with intensified emphasis. "_Re-juiced_! _We're_
rejuiced! I heard Mary say so in the schoolroom. She said to nurse
that she didn't know if the missis would be wanting to keep on two
housemaids now she was re-juiced! Does it mean _poor_?"

"You have no business to listen to servants' conversation; but if you
do, pray spare us the repetition!" said Rowena in her most grown-up
manner. Maud reflected that ever since mother had spoken of the new
arrangement about lessons, Ro had talked exactly like a governess, and
been just as snappy as snappy. She bounced on her seat, and wagged her
head in the obstinate manner which she adopted upon provocation.

"I don't listen, but I have ears, and if people speak I am obliged to
hear. Mary came into the room to dust. Nurse was darning the
tablecloth. It's all gone into holes where Gurth spilt the chemical
acid. It's the one with the little shamrocks for a pattern. So Nurse
said: `Drat those boys!' and licked the cotton with her tongue, and--"

Hereward and Gurth exchanged glances of resigned boredom, but Dreda
drummed her heels on the floor, and called aloud with startling
emphasis:

"Go