seemed to repent of her haste and patted me gently on the head.

"There, there, little Beatrice! Did I frighten you, child? Forgive an
old woman's thoughtlessness. But be not too ready to go where you are
not bidden, and never venture foot in the Red Room now, for it belongs
to your Uncle Hugh's wife, and let me tell you she is not over fond of
intruders."

I felt sorry overmuch to hear this, nor could I see why my new aunt
should care if I went in once in a while, as had been my habit, to
talk to the swallows and misplace nothing. But Mrs. Montressor saw to
it that I obeyed her, and I went no more to the Red Room, but busied
myself with other matters.

For there were great doings at the Place and much coming and going. My
aunts were never idle; there was to be much festivity Christmas week
and a ball on Christmas Eve. And my aunts had promised me--though not
till I had wearied them of my coaxing--that I should stay up that
night and see as much of the gaiety as was good for me. So I did their
errands and went early to bed every night without complaint--though I
did this the more readily for that, when they thought me safely
asleep, they would come in and talk around my bedroom fire, saying
that of Alicia which I should not have heard.

At last came the day when my Uncle Hugh and his wife were expected
home--though not until my scanty patience was well nigh wearied
out--and we were all assembled to meet them in the great hall, where a
ruddy firelight was gleaming.

My Aunt Frances had dressed me in my best white frock and my crimson
sash, with much lamenting over my skinny neck and arms, and bade me
behave prettily, as became my bringing up. So I slipped in a corner,
my hands and feet cold with excitement, for I think every drop of
blood in my body had gone to my head, and my heart beat so hardly that
it even pained me.

Then the door opened and Alicia--for so I was used to hearing her
called, nor did I ever think of her as my aunt in my own mind--came
in, and a little in the rear my tall, dark uncle.

She came proudly forward to the fire and stood there superbly while
she loosened her cloak, nor did she see me at all at first, but
nodded, a little disdainfully, it seemed, to Mrs. Montressor and my
aunts, who were grouped about the drawing-room door, very ladylike and
quiet.

But I neither saw nor heard aught at the time save her only, for her
beauty, when she came forth from her crimson cloak and hood, was
s