tried to make conversation. Did she play, or draw? Matilda
played, Caroline drew, she had been learning; and in horror of a request
for music, she turned her eyes from the grand piano. Was she fond of
flowers? O, yes! Of botany? Caroline was. A beautifully illustrated
magazine of horticulture was laid before her, and somewhat relieved her,
whilst the elder ladies talked about their fernery, in scientific terms,
that sounded like an unknown tongue.

Perceiving that a book was wanted, she sprang up, begging to be told
where to find it; but the answer made her fear she had been officious.
'No, my dear, thank you, do not trouble yourself.'

The bell was rung, and a message sent to ask Miss Piper for the book. A
small, pale, meek lady glided in, found the place, and departed; while
Violet felt more discomposed than ever, under the sense of being a
conceited little upstart, sitting among the grand ladies, while such a
person was ordered about.

Ease seemed to come back with the gentlemen. Lord Martindale took her
into the great drawing-room, to show her Arthur's portrait, and the
show of the house--Lady Martindale's likeness, in the character of Lalla
Rookh--and John began to turn over prints for her, while Arthur devoted
himself to his aunt, talking in the way that, in his schoolboy days,
would have beguiled from her sovereigns and bank-notes. However, his
civilities were less amiably received, and he met with nothing but hits
in return. He hoped that her winter had not been dull.

Not with a person of so much resource as his sister. Solitude with her
was a pleasure--it showed the value of a cultivated mind.

'She never used to be famous for that sort of thing,' said Arthur.

'Not as a child, but the best years for study come later. Education is
scarcely begun at seventeen.'

'Young ladies would not thank you for that maxim.'

'Experience confirms me in it. A woman is nothing without a few years
of grown-up girlhood before her marriage; and, what is more, no one can
judge of her when she is fresh from the school-room. Raw material!'

Arthur laughed uneasily.

'There is Mrs. Hitchcock--you know her?'

'What, the lady that goes out with the hounds, and rides steeple-chases?
I saw her ride through Whitford to-day, and she stared so hard into the
carriage, that poor Violet pulled down her veil till we were out of the
town.'

'Well, she was married out of a boarding-school, came here the meekest,
shyest, little shri