an prevent it, don't let any more of the old
servants be sent away. If they drop off one by one home will seem like
a strange place at last. Remember how they loved my dear father, how
attached and faithful they have been to us. They are like our own flesh
and blood."

"I should never willingly part with servants who know my ways, Violet.
But as to Bates's dismissal--there are some things I had rather not
discuss with you--I am sure that Conrad acted for the best, and from
the highest motives."

"Do you know anything about this place to which I am going, mamma?"
asked Vixen, letting her mother's last speech pass without comment; "or
the lady who is to be my duenna?"

"Your future has been fully discussed between Conrad and me, Violet. He
tells me that the old Jersey manor house--Les Tourelles it is
called--is a delightful place, one of the oldest seats in Jersey, and
Miss Skipwith, to whom it belongs, is a well-informed conscientious old
lady, very religious, I believe, so you will have to guard against your
sad habit of speaking lightly about sacred things, my dear Violet."

"Do you intend me to live there for ever, mamma?"

"For ever! What a foolish question. In six years you will be of age,
and your own mistress."

"Six years--six years in a Jersey manor house--with a pious old lady.
Don't you think that would seem very much like for ever, mamma?" asked
Vixen gravely.

"My dear Violet, neither Conrad nor I want to banish you from your
natural home. We only want you to learn wisdom. When Mr. Vawdrey is
married, and when you have learnt to think more kindly of my dear
husband----"

"That last change will never happen to me, mamma. I should have to die
and be born again first, and, even then, I think my dislike of Captain
Winstanley is so strong that purgatorial fires would hardly burn it
out. No, mamma, we had better say good-bye without any forecast of the
future. Let us forget all that is sad in our parting, and think we are
only going to part for a little while."

Many a time in after days did Violet Tempest remember those last
serious words of hers. The rest of her conversation with her mother was
about trifles, the trunks and bonnet-boxes she was to carry with
her--the dresses she was to wear in her exile.

"Of course in a retired old house in Jersey, with an elderly maiden
lady, you will not see much society," said Mrs. Winstanley; "but Miss
Skipwith must know people--no doubt the best people in the