is did Bluebell dread,--she only longed to get downstairs
on any terms. Immured in the nursery, how could her little plot proceed?
Her simple toilette was carefully considered while brushing out and
arranging the shining coils of chestnut hair. Yet it was only a black
muslin dress, cut _en coeur_, and relieved with her favourite ruffles.
The children had brought handfuls of roses from the rosary--yellow,
crimson, white, blush, pink. A York and Lancaster in her hair, a tea-rose
in her bosom, and she was ready.

Only the ladies were in the large saloon, which again dazzled the
unsophisticated Bluebell with its magnificence. She found herself, as
before, little noticed; but, the pictures, which she might study
uninterruptedly from a secluded corner, entertained her for some time.
There were full-length portraits of Court ladies, by Lely, with wonderful
lace on brocaded gowns. One had a little dog half hidden in the folds.
The arch face of Nell Gwynne smiled over a door, a life-sized
Gainsborough of a lady with a straw hat, reclining on a bank of flowers,
was conspicuous over one fire-place. There were cavaliers with long,
curled hair, gentlemen of a later date in pig-tails; but the most modern
of all was a portrait of a boy playing with a large dog. On this one her
eye lingered longest. Whom could it be? It was not in the least like
Harry, and yet she fancied something about it familiar to her. There was
a look of Lord Bromley, certainly--perhaps it was a portrait of him in
childhood.

Mabel and Adela, meantime, were performing an elaborate duet. It was one
of her most irksome duties instructing these children in music, who would
never attain to more than mechanical excellence. When they had arrived at
the final crash, with not more than half a bar between them, Bluebell was
summoned to sing. The gentlemen came in from the dining-room at the last
verse, and, after a slight pause, she began another unasked. Mrs.
Barrington thought this rather forward, but there was a suppressed murmur
of applause when she had finished.

One of the ladies addressed a few words to her, and then Kate carelessly
brought up a gentleman who had been tormenting her for an introduction.

Bluebell had hoped that Lord Bromley would have spoken to her, after
their encounter in the morning. But he did not, though sometimes she felt
sure he was looking at her.

The undercurrent of excitement gave a feverish vivacity to her manner,
which Sir Robert