my sister Adelaide, but who seemed
further apart from me than ever. But the old sense of fascination which
she had been wont to exercise over me returned again in all or in more
than its primitive strength.

"I want to talk to you," said she, forcing me into a deep easy-chair. "I
have millions of things to ask you. Take off your hat and mantle. You
must stay all day. Heavens! how shabby you are! I never saw anything so
worn out--and yet your dress suits you, and you look nice in it." (She
sighed deeply.) "Nothing suits me now. Formerly I looked well in
everything. I should have looked well in rags, and people would have
turned to look after me. Now, whatever I put on makes me look hideous."

"Nonsense!"

"It does--And I am glad of it," she added, closing her lips as if she
closed in some bitter joy.

"I wish you would tell me why you have come here," I inquired,
innocently. "I was so astonished. It was the last place I should have
thought of your coming to."

"Naturally. But you see Sir Peter adores me so that he hastens to
gratify my smallest wish. I expressed a desire one day to see you, and
two days afterward we were _en route_. He said I should have my wish.
Sisterly love was a beautiful thing, and he felt it his duty to
encourage it."

I looked at her, and could not decide whether she were in jest or
earnest. If she were in jest, it was but a sorry kind of joke--if in
earnest, she chose a disagreeably flippant manner of expressing herself.

"Sir Peter has great faith in annoying and thwarting me," she went on.
"He has been looking better and more cheerful ever since we left Rome."

"But Adelaide--if you wished to leave Rome--"

"But I did not wish to leave Rome. I wished to stay--so we came away,
you know."

The suppressed rage and hatred in her tone made me feel uncomfortable. I
avoided speaking, but I could not altogether avoid looking at her. Our
eyes met, and Adelaide burst into a peal of harsh laughter.

"Oh, your face, May! It is a study! I had a particular objection to
coming to Elberthal, therefore Sir Peter instantly experienced a
particular desire to come. When you are married you will understand
these things. I was almost enjoying myself in Rome; I suppose Sir
Peter was afraid that familiarity might bring dislike, or that if we
stayed too long I might feel it dull. This is a gay, lively place, I
believe--we came here, and for aught I know we are going to stay here."

She laughed again, and