I see her?"

Madame Selini rang, and desired the little page to ask Miss Hastings to
come to her. In a few minutes an elegant, well-dressed lady entered the
room. She advanced with a quiet grace and dignity that seemed natural to
her; there was not the slightest trace of awkwardness or _mauvaise
honte_ in her manner.

Madame Selini introduced her to Sir Oswald Darrell.

"I will leave you," she said, "to discuss your private arrangements."

Madame quitted the room with gliding, subtle grace, and then Sir Oswald,
in his courtly fashion, placed a chair for Miss Hastings. He looked at
the pale, clear-cut face for a few minutes in silence, as though he were
at a loss what to say, and then he commenced suddenly:

"I suppose Madame Selini has told you what I want, Miss Hastings?"

"Yes," was the quiet reply; "your niece has been neglected--you want
some one to take the entire superintendence of her."

"Neglected!" exclaimed Sir Oswald. "My dear madame, that is a mild word,
which does not express the dreadful reality. I wish to disguise nothing
from you, I assure you--she literally horrifies me."

Miss Hastings smiled.

"Neglected!" he repeated--"the girl is a savage--a splendid
savage--nothing more nor less."

"Has she not received any kind of training, then, Sir Oswald?"

"Training! My dear madame, can you imagine what a wild vine is--a vine
that has never been cultivated or pruned, but allowed to grow wild in
all its natural beauty and strength, to cling where it would, to trail
on the ground and to twine round forest trees? Such a vine is a fit type
of my niece."

Miss Hastings looked slightly bewildered. Here was a very different
pupil from the elegant, graceful daughters of Lady Castledine.

"I should, perhaps," continued Sir Oswald, "explain to you the peculiar
position that my niece, Miss Pauline Darrell, has occupied."

His grand old face flushed, and his stately head was bowed, as though
some of the memories that swept over him were not free from shame; and
then, with a little gesture of his white hand, on which shone a large
diamond ring, he said:

"There is no need for me to tell you, Miss Hastings, that the Darrells
are one of the oldest families in England--ancient, honorable, and, I
must confess, proud--very proud. My father, the late Sir Hildebert
Darrell, was, I should say, one of the proudest and most reserved of
men. He had but two children, myself and a daughter twelve years
younger--my si