carry in the
crown of her cap; but Mrs Geoffrey Hilliard crept down her own passages
like a thief, listened breathlessly at the pantry door to make sure that
Montgomery was absent, then abstracted an apple from each of the two
pyramids of fruit already prepared for dinner, and flew back to her
room, aghast at her own temerity.

The presence of the apples seemed to bring back other schoolgirl
impulses, for instead of seating herself in dignified, grown-up fashion,
she stretched herself on the rug before the fire, her back supported
against the chair, her head drooping ever nearer and nearer the
cushions, as warmth and quiet wrought their usual work. She slept and
dreamt, and awoke with a start to hear a voice observing, "Tea is
served, madam!" and to see Montgomery the immaculate standing over her
with an unmoved expression, as if, in the many noble families in which
he had served, it was an invariable custom to find his mistress fast
asleep on the floor, with a half-gnawed apple in her hand!

Esmeralda crawled to her feet, trying vainly to look dignified, but she
had no appetite for muffins. She felt like a child who has been found
out, and blushed at the thoughts of her embarrassment that evening when
the fruit pyramid was handed for her selection. Tea did not taste half
so nice out of the Queen Anne silver as when it had been poured from the
old brown pot, which had to be refilled so many times to satisfy
clamorous appetites, and the longing for companionship made her hurry
through the meal, and run upstairs to a wide room overlooking the park.

With the opening of the door came that sweet, flannely, soapy, violet-
powdery smell which is associated with a well-kept nursery, and there on
the rocking-chair sat Mistress Nurse with a bundle of embroidery on her
knee, which purported to be O'Shaughnessy Geoffrey, the heir of the
Hilliards.

"Oh, I'm so glad you have come, ma'am! I did so want you to see him.
He has been so pert this afternoon. I don't know what to do with him,
he is so pert! I never saw such a forward child for his age!"

Esmeralda's face softened to a beautiful tenderness as she turned down
the Shetland shawl and looked at her little son. The pert child had a
fat white face, with vacant eyes, a button of a nose, and an expression
of preternatural solemnity. His head waggled helplessly from side to
side as his nurse held him out at arm's length, and stared fixedly into
space, regardless of hi