the _role_ of
heavy father to unchaperoned girls is usually relegated; and on arriving
at Liverpool the railway journey to Leighton Court would be only a few
hours.

Mrs. Rolleston gave her a pretty travelling dress, and otherwise
replenished her slender wardrobe. She also contributed a little good
advice as to abstention from flirting, explaining that in her unprotected
situation she could not be too sceptical of the honest intentions of
would-be wooers.

Bluebell indignantly repudiated the possibility of thinking of such a
thing for the present, if, indeed, ever, and professed the most ascetic
sentiments.

It was rather hard on Mrs. Leigh, this far-away separation from her only
child--indeed, she could not understand why she was not engaged to one or
other of the whilom visitors at the cottage, but comforted herself with
the reflection that there were doubtless many rich husbands in England.
Bluebell, like her father, seemed of a roving disposition, and she must
let her fledgling try her wings.

Mrs. Leigh was romantically inclined, and thought a heroine setting out
on her adventures should be provided with some talisman, and, in this
case, proof of her origin. So she disinterred from the old hair-trunk,
where it was usually entombed, the miniature of Theodore Leigh. How young
he looked! more like Bluebell's brother. "You must never lose it," said
she to her daughter; "for if your grandfather left his money to you after
all, I dare say the lawyers would try and prove you were some one else;
so it is as well to have your father's portrait to show, and your
eyebrows are brown and arched just like his."

Though at a loss to comprehend why lawyers should display such unprovoked
enmity, Bluebell gladly received the miniature. Her unknown father
represented to her another and more brilliant life; and when most
discontented at the penury of the cottage, she was fond of picturing to
herself her paternal relations, whom she imagined very grand people, and
in a very different position to that in which she had been brought up. In
these last days, Bluebell thought a good deal of Cecil with some return
of her old affection. She remembered how generous and dear a friend she
had been till Bertie came between, and thought how ungrateful she must
consider her to have clandestinely stolen away the only treasure she
would have been unwilling to share with her. Still, even were they to
meet, nothing she could say would do any good