't touch 'em
with the tips of her fingers, neither. And a maid, and all that
nonsense. And dresses from France. Deary me, this is a sad upsetting for
poor master."

"I don't interfere with your master," said Lesley, somewhat bitterly.
"He does not trouble about me--and I don't see why I should trouble
about him."

She said it almost below her breath, not thinking that Sarah would hear
or understand; but Sarah--after flouncing out of the room with an
indignant "Well, I'm sure!"--went straight to Miss Brooke and repeated
every word, with a few embellishments of her own. Miss Brooke came to
the conclusion that Lesley was, first of all, very indiscreet to take
servants so much into her confidence, and, secondly, that she was
inclined to rebel against her father's authority. And it seemed good to
her to take counsel with Mrs. Romaine in this emergency; and Mrs.
Romaine soon found an opportunity of pouring a sugared, poisoned version
of what she had heard into Caspar Brooke's too credulous ears. So that
he became colder than ever in his manner to Lesley, and Lesley wondered
vainly how she could have offended him.

The sole comfort that she gleaned at this time came from the Kenyons.
Ethel called on her, and won her heart at once by a peculiarly caressing
winsomeness that reminded one of some tropical bird--all dainty
coquetries and shy, sweet playfulness. Not that Ethel was in the least
bit shy, in reality; but she had a very tiny touch of the stage habit of
_posing_, and with strangers she invariably posed as being a little shy.
But in spite of this innocent little affectation, and in spite of a very
fashionable style of dress and demeanor, Ethel was true-hearted and
affectionate, and Lesley's own heart warmed to the tenderness of Ethel's
nature before she had been in her company half an hour.

"You know you are not a bit like what I expected you to be," Ethel said
sagely, when the two girls had talked together for some little time.

"What did you expect?" said Lesley, her face aglow.

"I hardly know--something more French, I think--a girl with airs and
graces," said Ethel, who had herself more airs and graces than Lesley
had ever donned in all her life; "nothing so Puritan as you are!"

"Puritan, after so many years of a French convent?"

"Yes, Puritan: no word suits you half so well! There is a sort of
restrained life and gladness about you, and it is the restraint that
gives it its attraction! Oh, forgive me for