read
in case she strained her eyes, not to rub her fingers on the pane, not
to cross her knees because it was unladylike, not to shout, not to
mumble, not to say "What?" not to yawn without putting her finger over
her mouth, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Being called to account so frequently was an exhausting process, and
Darsie felt a thrill of joy at the announcement of lunch. A meal in a
train would be a novel and exciting experience which would go far
towards making up for the dullness of the preceding hour, but alas!
Aunt Maria refused with scorn to partake of food, cooked goodness knew
how, by goodness knew whom, and had supplied herself with a few Plasmon
biscuits, the which she handed round with the information that they
contained more nourishment than ounces of beefsteak. They were very
dull and very dry, however, and Darsie managed to get a crumb down the
wrong way, and coughed continuously for the next hour in a tickling,
aggravating manner, while Aunt Maria reiterated, "Really, my dear!
_Most_ unpleasant!" and seemed to consider herself personally aggrieved.

When Arden was reached the position improved, for stationmaster and
porters alike flew to hover round the great lady of the neighbourhood,
and Darsie sunned herself in the novel consciousness of importance.
Outside the station a cart was waiting for luggage, and a large, old-
fashioned barouche with two fat brown horses, and with two brown-
liveried servants upon the box. The village children bobbed curtsies as
the carriage bowled through the village street, and Darsie smiled
benignly and bent her yellow head in gracious acknowledgment. As niece
and guest of the Lady of the Towers, these greetings were surely partly
intended for herself. She felt an exhilarating glow of complacence, and
determined to describe the scene to Vie Vernon on the earliest possible
opportunity.

The Towers was a large, very ugly, stucco house, surrounded by a
beautiful rolling park. Inside, the rooms were huge and square, and one
and all characterised by a depressing pitch of orderliness, which made
it almost impossible to believe that they could be used as ordinary
human habitations!

Darsie was escorted to a bedroom with ponderous mahogany furniture, so
complete a contrast from her own shabby, cheery little den that the
sight of it added the final touch to her depression. She refreshed
herself by a long splash in hot water, brushed out her tangled mane, put
on he