ville, laughing softly. "I shall alway be Mistress
Walter with thee, I am well assured. So my father Avery is dead, I
count, or ye had not come?"

The question was put in a tone as light and airy as possible. Clare
listened in surprised vexation. What did "she" mean by talking of
"Gaffer," in that strange way?--was she not sorry that he was gone away?
Bab was--thought Clare.

Barbara's answer was in a very constrained tone.

"Ah, well, 'tis to no good fretting," returned Lady Enville, gently
smoothing Clare's hair. "I cannot abide doole [mourning] and gloomy
faces. I would have all about me fresh and bright while I am so."

This was rather above Clare's comprehension; but looking up at Barbara,
the child saw tears in her eyes. Her little heart revolted in a moment
from the caressing lady in velvet. What did she mean by making Bab cry?

It was rather a misfortune that at this moment it pleased Lady Enville
to kiss Clare's forehead, and to say--

"Art thou ready to love us all, darling? Thou must know thy sisters,
and ye can play you together, when their tasks be adone.--Margaret!"

"Ay, Madam."

The elder girl laid down her work, and came to Lady Enville's side.

"And thou too, Lucrece.--These be they, sweeting. Kiss them. Thou
shalt see Blanche ere it be long."

But then Clare's stored-up anger broke out. The limit of her endurance
had been reached, and shyness was extinguished by vexation.

"Get away!" she said, as Margaret bent down to kiss her. "You are not
my sisters! I won't kiss you! I won't call you sisters. Blanche is my
sister, but not you. Get away, both of you!"

Lady Enville's eyes opened--for her--extremely wide.

"Why, what can the child mean?" she exclaimed. "I can never govern
childre. Rachel, do--"

Barbara was astonished and terrified. She laid a correcting hand upon
Clare's shoulder.

"Mrs Clare, I'm ashamed of you! Cruel 'shamed, I am! The ladies will
account that I ne'er learned you behaviour. Kiss the young damsels
presently [immediately], like a sweet little maid, as you use to be, and
not like a wild blackamoor that ne'er saw governance!"

But the matter was taken out of Barbara's hands, as Mistress Rachel
responded to the appeal made to her--not in words, but in solid deed.
She quietly grasped Clare, lifted her from her mother's knee, and,
carrying her to a large closet at one end of the room, shut her inside,
and sat down again with judicial imperturbab