cherubic visage beaming with interest as he listened to the
classic tale of "Three Wishes." It was easier to her to continue the
recital, while a dread of being questioned prevented her looking up.

"Bluebell is telling Freddy such a beautiful fairy story," said Mrs.
Rolleston, to some one who had followed her to the nursery.

"I wish she would tell fairy stories to me," said Bertie.

CHAPTER VI.

VISITORS.

In aught that from me lures thine eyes
My jealousy has trial;
The lightest cloud across the skies
Has darkness for the dial.
--Lord Lytton.

Bluebell had no difficulty in preserving silence about the Sunday's
escapade. It never occurred to Mrs. Rolleston to enquire what time she
had returned, and an evasive answer to Cecil was all that it entailed.
But she was very much perplexed by the change in Captain Du Meresq's
manner. The cold civility recommended by Miss Opie seemed all on his
side. Nothing but good-humoured indifference was apparent in his manner.
Their acquaintance did not seem to have progressed further than the first
evening; indeed, it had rather retrograded; and she could almost imagine
she had _dreamt_ the tender speeches he had lavished on her in the Humber
woods.

Cecil and he were out sleighing most afternoons, and Bluebell was thrown
on nursery and school-room for companionship--insipid pabulum to the
vanity of a young lady in her first glimpse of conquest, and who believed
she had stricken down a quarry worthy of her bow. Having nothing to
distract her, she considered the problem exhaustively from morning till
night, and, if she were not in love with him before, she had got him into
her head now, if not into her heart. His being so much with Cecil did not
strike her as any clue to the mystery. They were relations, of course, or
nearly the same thing; there was no flirting in their matter-of-fact
intercourse.

Cecil found her one afternoon reading over the bed-room fire, in a
somewhat desponding attitude. Miss Rolleston had just come in from a
drive, her slight form shrouded in sealskins, an air of brightness and
vivacity replacing her usual rather languid manner.

"You wouldn't think it was snowing from my cloak," cried she. "It is
though--quite a heavy fall, if you can call anything so light heavy. We
were quite white when we came in, but it shakes off without wetting."

"It won't be very good sleighing, then, to-morrow, and the wind is