must go away."

Ayala knew at once that her aunt was angry with her, and was
indignant at the injustice. "Of course there must be put an end to
it, Aunt Emmeline. He has no right to annoy me when I tell him not."

"I suppose you have encouraged him."

This was too cruel to be borne! Encouraged him! Ayala's anger was
caused not so much by a feeling that her aunt had misappreciated the
cause of her coming as that it should have been thought possible that
she should have "encouraged" such a lover. It was the outrage to her
taste rather than to her conduct which afflicted her. "He is a lout,"
she said; "a stupid lout!" thus casting her scorn upon the mother as
well as on the son, and, indeed, upon the whole family. "I have not
encouraged him. It is untrue."

"Ayala, you are very impertinent."

"And you are very unjust. Because I want to put a stop to it I come
to you, and you tell me that I encourage him. You are worse than
Augusta."

This was too much for the good nature even of Aunt Emmeline. Whatever
may have been the truth as to the love affair, however innocent Ayala
may have been in that matter, or however guilty Tom, such words
from a niece to her aunt,--from a dependent to her superior,--were
unpardonable. The extreme youthfulness of the girl, a peculiar look
of childhood which she still had with her, made the feeling so much
the stronger. "You are worse than Augusta!"

And this was said to her who was specially conscious of her
endeavours to mitigate Augusta's just anger. She bridled up, and
tried to look big and knit her brows. At that moment she could not
think what must be the end of it, but she felt that Ayala must be
crushed. "How dare you speak to me like that, 'Miss'?" she said.

"So you are. It is very cruel. Tom will go on saying all this
nonsense to me, and when I come to you you say I encourage him! I
never encouraged him. I despise him too much. I did not think my own
aunt could have told me that I encouraged any man. No, I didn't. You
drive me to it, so that I have got to be impertinent."

"You had better go to your room," said the aunt. Then Ayala, lifting
her head as high as she knew how, walked towards the door. "You had
better leave that letter with me." Ayala considered the matter for
a moment, and then handed the letter a second time to her aunt. It
could be nothing to her who saw the letter. She did not want it.
Having thus given it up she stalked off in silent disdain and went to
h