lmost angrily at Frances.

'No, no,' she exclaimed; 'of course not. Frances, why did you say that?
Margaret, you are so fanciful. Of course it is not that. It is just that
the doctor says his leg is getting stiffer and stiffer, and unless
something can be done--some treatment in London first, and afterwards a
course of German baths--he is afraid dad must become _quite_ a
cripple--quite helpless. And that would be dreadful. It's bad enough
when people are rich'--it was sad to hear the old sad 'refrain' of
poverty, from lips so young--'but when they're poor! Oh no, I can't face
the thoughts of it. What would his life be if he could never get out--he
is so active in spite of his lameness--if he had to lie always in his
poky little room? How would darling mother bear it?'

And then brave Bessie herself broke down and fled away to the
house--they were in the garden--to hide herself till she had recovered
some degree of calm.

CHAPTER IX.

THE INDIAN MAIL.

Frances went home that evening feeling very unhappy and terribly full of
sympathy, while painfully conscious the while that as yet she must not
unburden herself to any one, not even to Jacinth, of her whole thoughts
and feelings in connection with the Harpers. And in any case she could
not have done so, for Jacinth was away at Robin Redbreast till Monday.

They met at school on Monday morning, but it was not till they were on
their way home at dinner-time that the sisters had any opportunity of
speaking to each other. Jacinth was looking almost brilliantly well,
and, for her, Frances saw in a moment, in extremely good spirits. No
wonder--every time she went to Lady Myrtle, the old lady showed her
increasing signs of affection and goodwill: she almost hinted that she
wished the girl to think of herself as in a sense adopted by her.

'Francie,' said the elder sister, when they at last found themselves
alone, 'I have something so lovely to show you,' and she drew out a
little velvet-covered case from her pocket. 'See--this is what dear Lady
Myrtle has given me; isn't it splendid?'

The 'it' was a small and evidently valuable watch. The back was
enamelled and set with diamonds, in the form of a 'J.' It was somewhat
old-fashioned, enough to enhance its beauty and uncommonness, and
Frances gazed at it in breathless admiration.

'It was Lady Myrtle's own,' explained Jacinth. 'She told me that she and
our grandmother once had a fancy--rather a silly one, I think,