it irritating to find her hair obstinate and her
ornaments unbecoming; and she was in no placid state when Violet entered
the room, ready dressed.

'Violet! This is too foolish!'

'I am a great deal better now, thank you.'

'But I have settled it with Georgina; she is coming to call for me.'

'This is not out of her way; it will make no difference to her.'

'But, Violet, I will not let you go; Arthur would not allow it. You are
not fit for it.'

'Yes, thank you, I believe I am.'

'You believe! It is very ridiculous of you to venture when you only
believe,' said Theodora, never imagining that those mild weary tones
could withstand her for a moment. 'Stay at home and rest. You know
Arthur may come at any time.'

'I mean to go, if you please; I know I ought.'

'Then remember, if you are ill, it is your fault, not mine.'

Violet attempted a meek smile.

Theodora could only show her annoyance by impatience with her toilette.
Her sister tried to help her; but nothing suited nothing pleased
her--all was untoward; and at last Violet said, 'Is Percy to be there?'

'Not a chance of it. What made you think so?'

'Because you care so much.'

Somehow, that saying stung her to the quick, and the more because it was
so innocently spoken.

'I do not care,' she said. 'You are so simple, Violet, you fancy all
courtships must be like your own. One can't spend six years like six
weeks.'

The colour rushed painfully into Violet's face, and she quitted the
room. It was a moment of dire shame and grief to Theodora, who had not
intended a taunt, but rather to excuse her own doings; and as the words
came back on her, and she perceived the most unmerited reproach they
must have conveyed, she was about to hurry after her sister, explain,
and entreat her pardon. Almost immediately, however, Violet returned,
with her hands full of some beautiful geraniums, that morning sent to
her by Mrs. Harrison.

'See!' said she; 'I think a wreath of these might look well.'

Theodora trusted the blush had been the work of her own guilty fancy,
and, recollecting how often Mrs. Nesbit's innuendoes had glanced aside,
thought it best not to revive the subject. She did not estimate even
the sacrifice it was to part with the glowing fragrant flowers, the
arrangement of which had freshened Violet's spirits that evening when
not in tune for other occupation; and she did not know that there was
one little sigh of fellow-feeling at their destiny of