uncrumpled
condition, came near losing its spell. No longer did she trust in it as
in shining armour. Her humour soured. She instinctively inclined to
revenge herself upon the nearest sentient object available--namely to
stick pins into Damaris.

"Sweetest child," she said, "you can't imagine how much this room means
to me through its association with your father's wonderful book.--Oh!
yes, I know a lot about the book. Colonel Carteret has not failed to
advertise his acquaintance with it. But, what have I said?"

For at mention of that gentleman's name Damaris, so she fancied, changed
colour, the bloom fading upon her cheeks, while her glance became
reserved, at once proud and slightly anxious.

"Is it forbidden to mention the wonderful book at this stage of its
development? Though even if it were," she added, with a rather impish
laugh, looking down at and fingering the little bunch of trinkets,
attached to a long gold chain, which rested in her lap--"Carteret would
hardly succeed in holding his peace. Speak of everything, sooner or
later, he must."

She felt rather than saw Damaris' figure grow rigid.

"Have you ever detected that small weakness in him? But probably not. He
keeps overflowings for the elder members of his acquaintance, and in the
case of the younger ones does exercise some caution. Ah! yes, I've no
doubt he seems to you a model of discretion. Yet, in point of fact, when
you've known him as long as I, you will have discovered he is a more than
sufficiently extensive sieve."

Then, fearing she had gone rather far, since Damaris remained rigid
and silent:

"Not a malicious sieve," the lady hastened to add, raising her eyes. "I
don't imply that for a single instant. On the contrary I incline to
believe that his attitude of universal benevolence is to blame for this
inclination to gossip. It is so great, so all-enclosing, that I can't
help feeling it blunts his sense of right and wrong to some extent. He is
the least censorious of men and therefore--though it may sound cynical to
say so--I don't entirely trust his judgment. He is too ready to make
excuses for everyone.--But, my precious child, what's the matter? What
makes you look so terrifically solemn and severe?"

And playfully she put her hand under the girl's chin, drawing the grave
face towards her, smilingly studying, then lightly and daintily kissing
it. In the course of this affectionate interlude, the string of pearls
round Damaris' thr