l and willful Lady Jane had delighted Rosamund
when she was a little girl herself. Now, it seemed that Lady Jane was
blessed with a daughter, and as naughty as she must have been in her own
early days. This made matters exceedingly interesting to Rosamund.

She reached the front door and rang the ponderous iron bell which hung
from a chain by the side of a Gothic column, and a man-servant in
livery, with powdered hair, appeared in reply to her summons.

"Is Lady Jane Ashleigh within?"

"Yes, madam," he replied respectfully, and he motioned Rosamund into a
large, cool hall, beautifully furnished with all sorts of antique
specimens of oak and Sheraton furniture. From here he took her into a
little room rendered beautifully cool by green silk blinds, which were
partly let down at the windows, one of which was altogether open and
looked out on a flower-garden partly sheltered by trees. Here Rosamund
saw, just for a brief moment, a girl in red, swinging backward and
forward idly in a swing suspended from two stalwart boughs. The girl had
somewhat wild eyes, a very bright face, and a mischievous expression
round her lips. When she saw Rosamund she leaped from the swing, and
disappeared from view, and the next moment Lady Jane sailed into the
room. The contrast between the girl in red and the lady in deep mourning
who now appeared puzzled the girl a good deal; also the extreme calm
and graciousness of Lady Jane's bearing, the absence of all that
wildness in the eyes which Rosamund's own mother had explained so fully.
In short, the graciousness of a perfectly balanced nature seemed to
surround this charming woman. She thanked Rosamund for coming, and
sitting down near her, proceeded to question her with regard to her
mother.

"It is years since we met," she said, "but I have never forgotten her.
She was my favorite school-fellow. Our paths in life led very much apart
afterward, for I married my dearly beloved husband and lived in the
country, whereas she traveled a good deal over the world. But still we
did contrive to correspond from time to time, although we have not met,
I verily believe, since your birth, Rosamund. How old are you, my dear?"

"I was fifteen my last birthday," replied Rosamund.

"In some ways you look older than that."

"I am glad," said Rosamund, her eyes brightening. "I want to be
grown-up," she continued. "I want to have done with school."

"Why did your mother think of sending you to Mrs. Merrima