every farthing on her that he could afford. She had been teased
about her dress, told that her friends were mean and shabby, and
rejected as a walking companion, because she had no parasol, and that
was vulgar.

'I am sure I wanted to walk with none of them,' said Clara, 'and when
our English governess advised me to get one, I told her I would give in
to no such nonsense, for only vulgar people cared about them. Such a
scrape I got into! Well, then Miss Salter, whose father is a knight,
and who thinks herself the great lady of the school, always bridled
whenever she saw me, and, at last, Lucy Raynor came whispering up, to
beg that I would contradict that my grandmamma kept a school, for Miss
Salter was so very particular.'

'I should like to have heard your contradiction.'

'I never would whisper, least of all to Lucy Raynor, so I stood up in
the midst, and said, as clear as I could, that my grandmother had
always earned an honest livelihood by teaching little boys, and that I
meant to do the same, for nothing would ever make me have anything to
do with girls.'

'That spoilt it,' said Louis--'the first half was dignified.'

'What was the second?'

'Human nature,' said Louis.

'I see,' said Clara. 'Well, they were famously scandalized, and that
was all very nice, for they let me alone. But you brought far worse on
me, Louis.'

'I!'

'Ay! 'Twas my own fault, though, but I couldn't help it. You must
know, they all are ready to bow down to the ninety-ninth part of a
Lord's little finger; and Miss Brown--that's the teacher--always reads
all the fashionable intelligence as if it were the Arabian Nights, and
imparts little bits to Miss Salter and her pets; and so it was that I
heard, whispered across the table, the dreadful accident to Viscount
Fitzjocelyn!'

'Did nobody write to you?'

'Yes--I had a letter from granny, and another from Jem by the next
morning's post, or I don't know what I should have done. Granny was
too busy to write at first; I didn't three parts believe it before, but
there was no keeping in at that first moment.'

'What did you do?'

'I gave one great scream, and flew at the newspaper. The worst was,
that I had to explain, and then--oh! it was enough to make one sick.
Why had I not said I was Lord Ormersfield's cousin? I turned into a
fine aristocratic-looking girl on the spot! Miss Salter came and
fondled, and wanted me to walk with her!'

'Of course; she had compassion on