Franklin Kane

e tea every afternoon with Althea, and to be taken for long drives in t

ulate precision and simplicity, and had it not been for a homespun quality of mingled benevolence and shrewdness, she might have passed as stately. But Mrs. Pepperell had no wish to appear stately, and was rathe

always thought of Aunt Julia as rather commonplace in comparison. Yet, as she followed in her wake on the evening of her arrival, she felt that Aunt Julia was obviously and emi

so much innocent assurance might, to unsympathetic eyes, seem so. They were handsome girls, fresh-skinned, athletic, tall and slender. They wore beautifully simple white lawn dresses, and thei

rned introductions. Aunt Julia looked sharply and appraisingly at the black figure, and the girls did not look at all. They were filled with young delight and excitement at the prospect of a three weeks' romp in

er bread, and looked out

ang before Cousin Al

hea needs is sla

number'; they liked to draw her out and to shock her. She wanted to make it clear that she wasn't shocked, but that she was wearied. At the same time it was true that Mildred and

hey were looking very well. They certainly were, and Althea had to own it. 'But don't let t

e table. Althea shook her head. She did not like being made conspicuous, and alre

Althea?' Mrs. Pepperell a

Scotch-a very old family-and she is one of the most interesting people I've ev

ng have you known her?' asked A

at they had mutual friends, thinking of Miss

worth while in Europe, often made her embark on definitions and declarations

while the girls glanced round indif

' said Althea. 'She makes most people

t Julia. 'And how she slouches! Sit up, Mildr

nt Julia felt it, though Aunt Julia held aloof from it. Althea saw that Aunt Julia, most certainly, did not interest Helen, but the girls amused her; she liked them. They sat near her and made her laugh by their accounts of their journey, the funny people on the steamer, their

sk her how she felt, but also to see what impression her relatives had made. Helen was

se perception about other things, doesn't seem to see at all how bad the children's ma

r hand for her watch and was winding it. 'Have they

But surely you don'

it. 'More fun than a goat,' she quot

you care for keeping the language pure. Surely you think it regrettab

idn't care what happened to the language. 'There'll alw

, and she gave it some days later when she a

ly ignorant. Dorothy actually told me that she had never read any Browning, and thought that Sophocl

tance to her niece. Althea shrank from open combat with anybody, yet she could, under cover of gentle candour, plant her shafts. She

condite. Miss Buchanan's appearance is striking, and she is an independent creature; but, essentially, she is the most commonplace type of English girl-well-bred, poor, idle, uneducated, and w

'm afraid I shouldn't take your word on any matter concerning my friend,' she returne

n to idealisation, and you may find yourself disappointed if you trust to depths that are

me people in a week tha

't feel near you; that is all I mean.

der her air of unruffled cal

ng her, for reassuring symptoms of warmth or affection. 'I so hope that we may keep really

to plant Aunt Julia's shaft anew. 'Keep in touch,' she repeated. 'Of course. You'l

e will write? You will w

have anything to say in a letter. Let us exc

isconsolate note. 'How can I tell from po

nted that I'm doing very little

with a distress apparent in voice and face

e saying, more kindly, yet more lightly than before: 'You mustn't judge me by yourself. I'm not a bit thoughtful, you know, or

id Althea, in a slightly quivering voice. 'And

friend. Helen's voice, when she spoke, showed her that she was pained and disconcerted. 'You make me feel like such a clumsy brute

ld not have retained the appearance of lightness and inde

t see how you can-an ill-tempered, ignorant, uninteresting

person. From the first moment I saw you you appealed to me. I felt that you needed something-love and s

eyes, knew that, though touched, she was uncomfortable. 'You are too nice and

l me as a friend who will always

; and I do s

'You are a dear,' and adding, as though to take refuge fro

ver have thought of keeping in touch. She was Helen's friend because she had appealed for friendship, and because Helen thought her a dear. The onl

their talk, that, as they sat in Althea's room over coffee, H

over the plan, thinking that perhaps she had had enough of Bayreuth, so that Helen's suggestion, especially

ter that, in the country till winter. You ought to take a house in

a long visit?' Al

s you'll a

ill stay. Where shall I get a house? Ther

oo near Miss Buckston,

to be specially fine this year. And then you know so few people in England, you will

e full force of the compliment, it was more than satisfactory to have her acqu

e. Do you know of a nice house, Helen, in pretty country, and not too near Miss Buckston?' It was rather a shame of her, she felt, this proviso, but

nice country, too. You might have a look at it. It's where I used

d be perfe

verything, and with old-fashioned, shabby furniture. Since Gerald came into the place, he's not been able to keep it up, and he has to let it.

l like it. Don

rent matter. It is more of a home

ettled. I don't

cisiveness. 'You certainly shan't take it till you see it. I will wri

thea. 'A place that you love must be lovely. Write

until you see it. How do you know that the drainage is in order, or even that the beds are comfortable. Miss Bu

nd I'm sure the drainage and the beds are all

iston House. She bade Helen farewell three days later, and they had arranged that

ortnight ago. Franklin, then, had seemed the only fact worth looking at; but now she seemed embarked on a voyage of discovery, where bright new planets swam above the horizon with every forward rock of her boat. Franklin was by no means dismissed; Fra