e you not fond of music?"

"I play a little--a very little."

"Oh." The tone was one of disappointment. "Art?
Drawing--carving--modelling--any of the fads young ladies are so fond of
now-a-days?"

"No."

"Do you read much?"

"No."

"What do you do, then?"

"I can embroider a little," said Lesley, calmly. "The nuns taught me.
And I can dance."

She raised her eyes and studied the stormy expressions that flitted one
after another across her father's face. She knew that she had taken a
delight in provoking him, and she wondered whether he was not going to
retaliate by an angry word. But after a few moments' pause he only
said--

"Would you like any lessons in singing or drawing now that you are in
town?"

The offer was a temptation to Lesley. Yes, she would dearly have liked
some good singing lessons; her mother even had suggested that she should
take them while she was in London. She was the fortunate possessor of a
voice that was worth cultivating, and she longed to make the best of her
time. But she had come with the notion that her father was poor, and
that she must not be an unnecessary expense to him; and this idea had
not been counteracted by any appearance of luxury or lavish expenditure
in her London home. The furniture, except in her own room, was heavy,
old-fashioned, and decidedly shabby. Her father seemed to work very
hard. He had already promised her a maid; and Lesley could not bear to
ask him for anything else. So she answered--

"No, I think not, thank you."

There might be generosity, but there was also some resentment and hot
temper at the bottom of Lesley's reply. This was a fact, however, that
her father did not discern. He merely paused for a moment, nodded his
head once or twice, and seemed slightly disconcerted. Then he said--

"Very well; do just as you like. Your aunt has a Mudie subscription, I
believe"--what this meant Lesley had not the faintest idea--"and you
will find books in the library, and a piano in the drawing-room. You
must ask for anything you want." As if that was likely, Lesley thought!
"I hope you will make friends and be comfortable. And--a--" he paused,
and hesitated in his speech as he went on--"a--I hope--your mother--Lady
Alice--was well when you left her?"

"Pretty well," Lesley answered, dropping her eyes.

"Was she going to Scotland for the winter?"

"I think so."

"Oh." He seemed satisfied with the answer. "By the way, Lesley, are you
Catholic or P