le, whose husband has
got an appointment here. And Mrs Lyle is Captain Harper's sister. I like
her very much, and we have already made great friends. She is very
frank, and devoted to her brother and his family; and when she heard of
my children being at Thetford, in talking, one thing led to another, so
that I really knew all you tell me--and perhaps more. It will be rather
difficult for you and Jacinth--for Jassie especially--to avoid all
appearance of interference, as that would do harm on both sides. But
still you may find opportunities of speaking warmly and admiringly of
the Harper girls, whenever your school happens to be mentioned. That can
do _no_ harm, and may even help to pave the way for bringing about a
better state of things some day. For I do feel most interested in the
Harpers, and every time we meet, Mrs Lyle and I talk about them, and all
the troubles they have really so nobly borne.'

Then Mrs Mildmay went on to speak of her pleasure in her children's
having won Lady Myrtle's kindness, adding that she would look forward
eagerly to the next letters, telling of Jacinth's visit.

'Marmy says,' she wrote, 'that it must have been a presentiment which
made you all take such a fancy to that quaint old house, even though you
only saw it from the outside.'

All this Frances read again boldly to her sister. Jacinth did not
interrupt her, but listened in silence.

'Well,' she said, when Frances stopped, 'I told you I had read all mamma
said.'

'Then why are you so angry with me?' demanded Frances bluntly. 'If I am
a sort of an idiot, mamma is too.'

Jacinth did not reply.

'Mamma says you are not to attempt to interfere,' she said at last.

'I am not going to. I wouldn't do so for the Harpers' sake, much more
than for Lady Myrtle's. The Harpers have trusted me, and I won't do
anything they wouldn't like.'

'Well,' said Jacinth bitterly, 'you'd better write it all to mamma--all
the horrid, calculating, selfish things I've said. You've got quite
separated from me now, so that it really doesn't matter what you say of
me.'

This was too much. Frances at last dissolved into tears and flung
herself upon her sister, entreating her 'not to say such things,' to
believe that nobody in the world--not Bessie or Margaret or
_anybody_--could ever make up to her for her own dear Jass.

'You're not selfish,' she said. 'You're far more unselfish, really, than
I am. For I never think of things. I see I've never thou