s."

"Truly, father, I don't think so, and I know Ermie so well. I know,
father, she's awfully unhappy, and she's getting so cross and hard,
and perhaps this would soften her. I can't make out what's up with
her, but I think this might soften her. _Do_ try it, father; do,
please, father."

"Come and sit by me for a moment on this sofa, Maggie. I see you're
frightfully in earnest, and you're a dear good child. Everyone speaks
well of you, Maggie, so I'm bound in honor to hear you out. You'll
tell me the whole truth, whatever it is, won't you, Maggie?"

"Oh, won't I just! What a dear, darling father you are! Nearly as nice
as the birthday father!"

"_Nearly_, puss? Not quite, eh? Well, you suit me uncommonly well, and
it is a comfort to have an honest outspoken child. What with
Ermengarde's disobedience, and Basil's disgraceful want of openness, I
scarcely know what to do at times."

"Father, Basil has done nothing wrong."

"Oh, you take his part, eh? You wouldn't, if you had seen that
obstinate young dog last night. I see you know all about it, and I may
as well tell you, Maggie, that I am deeply displeased with Basil. I am
much more angry with him than I am with Ermengarde, for somehow or
other I measured him by his mother's standard, and she often said that
Basil couldn't be underhand."

"Mother was right," said Marjorie; "he couldn't."

"My dear Maggie, events have proved the reverse. But now we won't
discuss this matter. Here, pop under my arm; let's have a cozy five
minutes while I listen to all your wonderful reasons for not going to
Glendower."

CHAPTER XV.

LILIAS.

Ermengarde had just finished her morning toilet when the bedroom door
was banged violently open. It shut with a loud report and Marjorie,
breathless and triumphant, appeared before her.

"What will you give for some good news?" she said, dancing excitedly
up and down. "There, you shall give three guesses. Something so good,
_so_ jolly. You _will_ be delighted. Now guess! What's going to
happen?"

Ermengarde was in one of her worst humors. Everything had gone wrong
with her. There was a load of oppression and care on her heart, and
now she was seriously uneasy about Basil. She was not brave enough to
exonerate him by confessing her own sins, but it was torture to her to
think that he should be unjustly suspected of anything mean and
dishonorable.

"_Do_ guess! It's something so delightful. You _will_ be pleased,"
repeated M