ritation at
the whole position, which she believed herself to have quite overcome.

'They perfectly haunt us,' she said to herself: 'why in the world should
they have chosen Basse out of all the quantity of places there are? And
to think'--this was a very ugly thought--'that but for mamma they
wouldn't have been able to come abroad at all! Why should they spoil my
little happy time with Lady Myrtle? And very likely no good would come
to them of my telling her that they are here. She would be sure to
refuse to see them.'

But what if it were so? Did that affect her own present duty?

'It might annoy Lady Myrtle,' whispered an insidious voice; but had not
Mrs Mildmay risked far more in her outspoken appeal, when still almost a
stranger to her mother's friend? Would not the concealment of so simple
a circumstance as her meeting the Harper girls be more than negative
unfriendliness? would it not savour of want of candour and selfish
calculation, such as in after years Jacinth would blush to remember? And
again there sounded in her ears the old north-country woman's quaint
words: 'It do seem to me, ma'am, as there's two kinds of honesty.'

And Jacinth lifted her head and took her resolution.

That afternoon there was to be no drive, as the old lady had caught a
slight cold. And after luncheon Jacinth came and sat beside her in her
favourite position, a low stool beside Lady Myrtle's chair, whence she
could rest one elbow on her friend's knee and look up into her kind old
face with the strangely familiar dark eyes, which were dearer to Robin
Redbreast's owner than even the girl herself suspected.

'I want to talk to you, dear Lady Myrtle,' she began. 'I want to tell
you whom I met this morning,' and she related simply what had occurred.

The old lady started a little as Jacinth spoke the names 'Camilla and
Bessie Harper.' But then she answered quietly: 'It was right of you to
tell me, dear,' she said. 'And you need not fear its annoying me. It is
strange that they should have chosen Basse, but really it does not
matter to us in the least. I am very glad the father is so much better.
Now let us talk of something else, dear.'

Now came the hard bit of Jacinth's task.

'Dear Lady Myrtle, that isn't all; it's only the first part of what I
have to say,' she began tremulously. 'I want to tell you _everything_,
more even than I told mamma, for till to-day I don't think I saw it
quite so plainly. I have not been as good and