othing
to the nerves of a tired man in his own house. Whereas, Janetta's
singing had something impassioned in it which disturbed and excited
instead of soothing. But he was quite ready to admire when Margaret
called on him for admiration. They were sitting together on a sofa, and
Janetta, who had just finished one of her songs, was talking to, or
being talked to, by Mr. Adair. Lady Caroline had taken up a review.

"Is not Miss Colwyn's voice perfectly lovely?" Margaret asked, with
shining eyes.

"It is very sweet."

"Don't you think she looks very nice?"--Margaret was hungering for
admiration of her friend.

"She is a very pretty girl. You are very fond of each other?"

"Oh, yes, devoted. I am so glad I succeeded!" said the girl, with a
great sigh.

"In getting her away from the school?"

"Yes."

"You think it was for her good?"

Margaret opened her lovely eyes.

"For her good?--to come here instead of staying in that close
uncomfortable house to give music lessons, and bear Miss Polehampton's
snubs?----" It had evidently never occurred to her that the change could
be anything but beneficial to Janetta.

"It is very pleasant for her, no doubt," said Sir Philip, smiling in
spite of his disapproval. "I only wondered whether it was a good
preparation for the life of hard work which probably lies before her."

He saw that Margaret colored, and wondered whether she would be offended
by his suggestion. After a moment's pause, she answered, gravely, but
quite gently--

"I never thought of it in that way before, exactly. I want to keep her
here, so that she should never have to work hard at all."

"Would she consent to that?"

"Why not?" said Margaret.

Sir Philip smiled and said no more. It was curious, he said to himself,
to see how little conception Margaret had of lives unlike and outside
her own. And Janetta's brave but sensitive little face, with its
resolute brows and lips and brilliant eyes, gave promise of a
determination and an originality which, he felt convinced, would never
allow her to become a mere plaything or appendage of a wealthy
household, as Margaret Adair seemed to expect. But his words had made an
impression. At night, when Lady Caroline and her daughter were standing
in the charming little room which had always been appropriated to
Margaret's use, she spoke, with the unconscious habit of saying frankly
anything that had occurred to her, of Sir Philip's remarks.

"It was so odd," s