ld friends, but his calls do not mean anything more than
that he takes an interest in me. It is not at all likely that I shall
see him again! and I certainly never shall see him unless you are
present.'

'That will be very nice.'

'Yes. And you will be always distant towards him, and go to leave the
room when he comes, when I will call you back; but suppose we continue
this to-morrow? I can tell you better then what to do.'

When Picotee had left her the second time, Ethelberta turned over upon
her breast and shook in convulsive sobs which had little relationship
with tears. This abandonment ended as suddenly as it had begun--not
lasting more than a minute and a half altogether--and she got up in an
unconsidered and unusual impulse to seek relief from the stinging sarcasm
of this event--the unhappy love of Picotee--by mentioning something of it
to another member of the family, her eldest sister Gwendoline, who was a
woman full of sympathy.

Ethelberta descended to the kitchen, it being now about ten o'clock. The
room was empty, Gwendoline not having yet returned, and Cornelia, being
busy about her own affairs upstairs. The French family had gone to the
theatre, and the house on that account was very quiet to-night.
Ethelberta sat down in the dismal place without turning up the gas, and
in a few minutes admitted Gwendoline.

The round-faced country cook floundered in, untying her bonnet as she
came, laying it down on a chair, and talking at the same time. 'Such a
place as this London is, to be sure!' she exclaimed, turning on the gas
till it whistled. 'I wish I was down in Wessex again. Lord-a-mercy,
Berta, I didn't see it was you! I thought it was Cornelia. As I was
saying, I thought that, after biding in this underground cellar all the
week, making up messes for them French folk, and never pleasing 'em, and
never shall, because I don't understand that line, I thought I would go
out and see father, you know.'

'Is he very well?' said Ethelberta.

'Yes; and he is going to call round when he has time. Well, as I was a-
coming home-along I thought, "Please the Lord I'll have some chippols for
supper just for a plain trate," and I went round to the late
greengrocer's for 'em; and do you know they sweared me down that they
hadn't got such things as chippols in the shop, and had never heard of
'em in their lives. At last I said, "Why, how can you tell me such a
brazen story?--here they be, heaps of 'em!"