Dorothea and Virginia, one
sunny beam of delight and although it was Mr. Stuart Rem who was naughty
Nesta's victim, and although it seemed a trespass on her part to speak
in such a manner of a clerical gentleman, they were seized; they were
the opposite partners of a laughing quadrille, lasting till they were
tired out.

Victor had asked his girl, if she sang on a Sunday. The ladies
remembered, that she had put the question for permission to Mr. Stuart
Rem, who was opposed to secular singing.

'And what did he say?' said Victor.

Nesta shook her head: 'It was not what he said, papa; it was his look.
His duty compelled him, though he loves music. He had the look of a
Patriarch putting his handmaiden away into the desert.'

Dorothea and Virginia, in spite of protests within, laughed to streams.
They recollected the look; she had given the portrait of Mr. Stuart Rem
in the act of repudiating secular song.

'Victor conjured up a day when this darling Fredi, a child, stood before
a famous picture in the Brera, at Milan; when he and her mother noticed
the child's very studious graveness; and they had talked of it; he
remarking, that she disapproved of the Patriarch; and Nataly, that she
was taken with Hagar's face.

He seemed surprised at her not having heard from Dudley.

'How is that?' said he.

'Most probably because he has not written, papa.'

He paused after the cool reply. She had no mournful gaze at all; but
in the depths of the clear eyes he knew so well, there was a coil of
something animate, whatever it might be. And twice she drew a heavy
breath.

He mentioned it in London. Nataly telegraphed at night for her girl to
meet her next day at Dartrey's hotel.

Their meeting was incomprehensibly joyless to the hearts of each,
though it was desired, and had long been desired, and mother was mother,
daughter daughter, without diminution of love between them. They held
hands, they kissed and clasped, they showered their tender phrases with
full warm truth, and looked into eyes and surely saw one another. But
the heart of each was in a battle of its own, taking wounds or crying
for supports. Whether to speak to her girl at once, despite the now
vehement contrary counsel of Victor, was Nataly's deliberation, under
the thought of the young creature's perplexity in not seeing her at the
house of the Duvidney ladies: while Nesta conjured in a flash the past
impressions of her mother's shrinking distaste from any su