angry with me?"

"No, of course not. But then, you see, it is a little vexing just at
this moment. Well, let us go up stairs at once, and try and make up
some excuse, like a good girl. Say you felt faint--anything."

"And you will come with me?"

"Yes. Now do try, Sheila, to make friends with my aunt. She's not such
a bad sort of creature as you seem to think. She's been very kind to
me--she'll be very kind to you when she knows you more."

Fortunately, no excuse was necessary, for Mrs. Lavender, in Sheila's
absence, had arrived at the conclusion that the girl's temporary
faintness was due to that piece of Roquefort.

"You see you must be careful," she said when they entered the room.
"You are unaccustomed to a great many things you will like afterward."

"And the room is a little close," said Lavender.

"I don't think so," said his aunt, sharply: "look at the barometer."

"I didn't mean for you and me, Aunt Caroline," he said, "but for her.
Sheila has been accustomed to live almost wholly in the open air."

"The open air in moderation is an excellent thing. I go out myself
every afternoon, wet or dry. And I was going to propose, Frank, that
you should leave her here with me for the afternoon, and come back and
dine with us at seven. I am going out at four-thirty, and she could go
with me."

"It's very kind of you, Aunt Caroline, but we have promised to call on
some people close by here at four."

Sheila looked up frightened. The statement was an audacious perversion
of the truth. But then Frank Lavender knew very well what his aunt
meant by going into the open air every afternoon, wet or dry. At one
certain hour her brougham was brought round: she got into it, and
had both doors and windows hermetically sealed, and then, in a
semi-somnolent state, she was driven slowly and monotonously round the
Park. How would Sheila fare if she were shut up in this box? He told a
lie with great equanimity, and saved her.

Then Sheila was taken away to get on her things, and her husband
waited, with some little trepidation, to hear what his aunt would say
about her. He had not long to wait.

"She's got a bad temper, Frank."

"Oh, I don't think so, Aunt Caroline," he said, considerably startled.

"Mark my words, she's got a bad temper, and she is not nearly so soft
as she tries to make out. That girl has a great deal of firmness,
Frank."

"I find her as gentle and submissive as a girl could be--a little too
gentle,