The Admiral's Daughter

heatre, and absent-minded at supper. Her aunt presently thou

lonel Sampson, sitting at her right hand. 'She is living the acts all

of tales Marion had so often heard when her father and his old friends of the sea met at the friendly board, or when he had fallen back on the parson for aud

o the hints the speaker gave of her fat

t the end of one of the stories. 'And that reminds me, my dear,' turning to

in Marion demurely, 'I don't see how you can ever

to add the fact that I bore my trials right sweetly. But I was going to say—give her some more of that jelly,

now. Elise is the daughter of

'Not the de Delauret who sailed

eard my father talk

chair. 'I never met the gentleman myself, but I was acquainted w

st. 'You knew Elise's mother! Do tell me about he

d fingers. 'Here I ask for a simple story, and you and my niece go off on a voyage of d

ble, 'my lady there is accustomed to being (or thinking she is) the per

y on the lady's face. 'I'm sure no

ravely. 'The prisoner is dismissed with a reprimand. Now

old what she knew of her father's relationship w

nship,' mused Lady Fairfax. 'But it was also very

Aunt Co

ise is something of an heiress on her m

marriage with the "penniless Breton cadet," as they were pleased to describe de Delauret, but her family more or less discarded her.

how Father was blin

note, in a small way. She should be with the ladies of the d'Artois family. It is to be presumed their antago

sh was to keep Elise away from

coats! She has, I am sure, had a right simple, honest, healthy

he Colonel. 'Of such a mother and such a father. I ha

states?' asked Sir John, l

y Father had a letter from the French attorney, M. Lebrun. He is an old gentleman, it appears, and wishes to retire from his duties, and is shortly to leave everything in his son's hands. The young M. Lebrun I know nothing about. Neither Elise nor Victoire has ever seen him. But I gathered from Elise's manner she will not be sorry to hav

ed name will not silence M. Lebrun before he has

h scolded him a little, I think. You wouldn't believe,' s

irfax had noted the entire absence of any personal feeling

Marion

attached to he

took refuge in a general attitude again. 'As for being a favourite—I think—'twas so—except f

og

o her aunt's face. 'Roger Trev

r that sarcastic voice: 'So you are on his side, as well as Roger.' How distant it all appear

to stop the conversation that had arisen

he cry of the watch in the s

ck, and a fine

said to Marion. 'We will talk m

e double service that had been laid upon her. Moreover the approachin

y Fairfax one morning. 'She brought me my best sarcenet pett

e is overworked,'

declared the lady. 'If she has two ribbons to tie inste

embles a good-tempered

ot you get that little Simone to return to us? Apart from the question of Martin, if your fear co

y kind fate has decreed that Her M

'doubtless has its lap full of those famous powders of the

dy Fairfax. 'Very well, we will try to get Sim

Marion heartily. 'It w

e pleasure afforded her by the prospect of her new duties. A smile broke over her face when she was summoned to the visitor's presence, and learned her wishes. As Lady Fairfax noted the new expression of the grave featur

whom Simone has consented to like,' she remarked, when the girl had left the room to find the necessary obje

her,' said Lady Fairfax. 'Sir

Simone reappeared with a mo

arrived to stitch Mademoiselle's flounces, a pleasure in Marion's society had come on her as a surprise: a new sensation. Hitherto Simone had been an incurious, det

y learned in the school of sorrow the secret of self-restraint. Marion wondered sometimes at the unusual warmth of the dark eyes that would meet her

Both Colonel Sampson, who was a constant visitor at the house, and her uncle were studious, thoughtful men; her aunt was a very accomplished woman; and it was a severe check to whatever self-importance Marion had had

visit a tailor in Eastcheap concerning a new riding cloak for her charge. The coach was announced immediately after d

ey, and she had seen the river again with its strings of barges and wherries and passenger boats: more people on the waterway than trod the road. She had written a long letter to he

of the world of fashion in the narrow footway; all this was Romance incarnate to the simple country girl. Then when they reached Ludgate Hill, and the coach stopped for my lady to make a trifling purchase, Marion, alighting after her, stood stock still in amazement. Each shop had its own pictorial sign suspended by creaking chains over the d

l the apprentices of the city rushing

lly in and out of the doors of their shops, and one, spying from within Marion's face of wonderment, was only preven

, began to understand more of that other love—the love of the English for the grey stone buildings of London. She had heard of sailors who had been bred in the sound of Bow Bells meeting with streaming eyes the spires of the city rising above the water when they sailed back after an outlandish voyage and anchored in Lon

bells of Bow should be pealing then. In a dream she got out and stared at the new Royal Exchange, another great building fresh born of the Fire. She saw Sir Thomas Gresha

ed hands with England, bringing gold and jewels for barter from a land

he richest street in the land, Marion—all money

s very wonderful, Aunt Constance

, my child, a

. Slowly Marion was drawn into the circle of her new life. She no longer felt, as in the first few days of her visit, that the present was a drea