yala herself. "Your uncle
has sent me," said Lady Tringle, "and I must give him some reason.
As for expense, you know,"--then she turned to Mrs. Dosett with a
smile,--"that of course would be our affair."

"If you ask me," said Mrs. Dosett, "I think that as Ayala has come
to us she had better remain with us. Of course things are very
different, and she would be only discontented." At this Lady Tringle
smiled her sweetest smile,--as though acknowledging that things
certainly were different,--and then turned to Ayala for a further
reply.

"Aunt Emmeline, I can't," said Ayala.

"But why, my dear? Can't isn't a courteous answer to a request that
is meant to be kind."

"Speak out, Ayala," said Mrs. Dosett. "There is nobody here but your
aunts."

"Because of Tom."

"Tom wouldn't eat you," said Lady Tringle, again smiling.

"It's worse than eating me," said Ayala. "He will go on when I tell
him not. If I were down there he'd be doing it always. And then you'd
tell me that I--encouraged him!"

Lady Tringle felt this to be unkind and undeserved. Those passages
in Rome had been very disagreeable to every one concerned. The girl
certainly, as she thought, had been arrogant and impertinent. She had
been accepted from charity and had then domineered in the family. She
had given herself airs and had gone out into company almost without
authority, into company which had rejected her,--Lady Tringle. It had
become absolutely necessary to get rid of an inmate so troublesome,
so unbearable. The girl had been sent away,--almost ignominiously.
Now she, Lady Tringle, the offended aunt, the aunt who had so
much cause for offence, had been good enough, gracious enough, to
pardon all this, and was again offering the fruition of a portion
of her good things to the sinner. No doubt she was not anxious
that the offer should be accepted, but not the less was it made
graciously,--as she felt herself. In answer to this she had thrown
back upon her the only hard word she had ever spoken to the girl!
"You wouldn't be told anything of the kind, but you needn't come if
you don't like it."

"Then I don't," said Ayala, nodding her head.

"But I did think that after all that has passed, and when I am trying
to be kind to you, you would have made yourself more pleasant to me.
I can only tell your uncle that you say you won't."

"Give my love to my uncle, and tell him that I am much obliged to him
and that I know how good he is; but I can't--b