there to make it perfect."

Hubert shewed good taste in keeping away from Dunaghee, except to pay
his call on Mr. and Mrs. Fullerton.

"Hadria," said his sister, "I am going to call you by your pretty
Christian name, and I want you to call me Henriette. I feel I have known
you much longer than ten days, because Hubert has told me so much about
you, and your music. You play charmingly. So much native talent. You
want good training, of course; but you really might become a brilliant
performer. Hubert is quite distressed that you should not enjoy more
advantages. I should like so much if you could come and stay with us in
town, and have some good lessons. Do think of it."

Hadria flushed. "Oh, thank you, I could not do that--I----"

"I understand you, dear Hadria," said Henriette, drawing her chair
closer to the fire. "You know, Hubert can never keep anything of great
importance from me." She looked arch.

Hadria muttered something that might have discouraged a less persistent
spirit, but Miss Temperley paid no attention.

"Poor Hubert! I have had to be a ministering angel to him during these
last months."

"Why do you open up this subject, Miss Temperley?"

"_Henriette_, if you please," cried that young woman, with the air of
a playful potentate who has requested a favoured courtier to drop the
ceremonious "Your Majesty" in private conversation.

"It was I who made him accept Mrs. Gordon's invitation. He very nearly
refused it. He feared that it would be unpleasant for you. But I
insisted on his coming. Why should he not? He would like so much to come
here more often, but again he fears to displease you. He is not a
Temperley for nothing. They are not of the race of fools who rush in
where angels fear to tread."

"Are they not?" asked Hadria absently.

"We both see your difficulty," Miss Temperley went on. "Hubert would not
so misunderstand you--the dear fellow is full of delicacy--and I should
dearly love to hear him play to your accompaniment; he used to enjoy
those practices so much. Would you think him intrusive if he brought his
_'cello_ some afternoon?"

Hadria, not without an uneasy qualm, agreed to the suggestion, though by
no means cordially.

Accordingly brother and sister arrived, one afternoon, for the practice.
Henriette took the leadership, visibly employed tact and judgment,
talked a great deal, and was surprisingly delicate, as beseemed a
Temperley. Hadria found the occasion somewhat tryin