; that is what I object to,' said
Clare, leaning back in her chair, and looking at her sisters rather
meditatively. 'If we quarrel, it will be dreadful, and I am perfectly
certain we shall never agree on every point.'

'_You_ will not on _any_ point,' said Gwen, a little drily.

'We have the country round us,' put in Elfie, 'and there must be some
people to know; it is only just at first we shall be shut up to
ourselves, I expect.'

'As to the people, there will be the villagers, of course,' said Gwen
briskly; 'but we needn't count upon many friends in our own class of
life. The big houses round here won't be desirous of the acquaintance
of four unknown females with a very small income.'

'I always thought,' said Elfie, 'that country villages contained a
clergyman and family, a doctor, and a squire. Isn't that the case
here?'

'No; this is a kind of suburb of Brambleton. There is a vicarage, but
I don't know anything about the clergyman.'

'Well, I hope we shan't all die of the dumps,' said Clare, shivering
slightly, as a fresh blast of wind howled and shrieked in the old
chimney.

'Oh, that dreadful wind, how I hate it! It seems like a bad omen to
have such a welcome when we get here.'

'Rubbish! Go to bed, if you don't like it, and put your head under the
clothes. Of course we notice the wind more in the country because of
the trees.'

Clare did not get much sympathy from her sisters, and she soon left
them and went up to her bedroom. There was a bright fire burning, and
some of her own pretty things were already being unpacked by the busy
Jane, who was perhaps more attached to her than to any of the others.

'Captain Knox thinks her the best of the bunch,' said she in confidence
to Martha, when on the subject of 'our young ladies,' 'and so do
I--Miss Agatha is rather commonplace, to my mind, though she is a good
mistress, and Miss Gwendoline is always catching up one and taking
one's breath away. Miss Elfrida is very pleasant, but she's always the
same. Now Miss Clare's never two days alike; she's that gentle and
appealin' sometimes, that she makes me love her, and then she's miles
away in the clouds, and very cross, and then her spirits get so high
that she's ready for any mischief--and there's no knowin' how to take
her.'

'Isn't the wind dreadful, Jane?' said Clare presently. 'We couldn't
have had a more dreary and depressing day for coming here.'

'It's terrible lonely, miss. How you y