ust be born in some people,' said Jacinth. 'It isn't
laziness that makes me not care for them. For I love riding and long
walks and dancing. Only, somehow, I feel so much _older_.'

'I can sympathise with you,' said her aunt. 'I have never been able to
care for any game that ever was invented. So I have not been victimising
you this afternoon, you are sure?'

'Oh indeed, no,' replied Jacinth heartily.

On the whole the domestic atmosphere in Market Square Place seemed more
genial.

CHAPTER VII.

AN INVITATION.

Jacinth was quick of observation. They had not been many minutes seated
at table before it struck her that Frances was unusually silent--or
rather, absent and preoccupied, for the mere fact of her not speaking
much in her aunt's presence was not remarkable.

She glanced at Frances once or twice inquiringly, then she tried to draw
her into the conversation, but only succeeded in extracting
monosyllables in reply. Still her sister did not look depressed,
certainly not cross; it was much more as if her thoughts were elsewhere.

'What are you dreaming about, Frances?' said Jacinth at last with a
touch of sharpness. 'Are you very tired?'

'Did you not enjoy yourself this afternoon?' asked Miss Mildmay,
following suit.

Frances started, and pulled herself together.

'Oh yes,' she said, '_very_ much. I never enjoyed myself more. I was
only--oh, I was only thinking of things.'

'What sort of things?' asked her aunt good-humouredly. 'Had you much
grave and learned discussion at Ivy Lodge?'

Frances reddened a little.

'We did talk quietly part of the time,' she said. 'We weren't playing
games _all_ the afternoon. I was a good while walking up and down with
Margaret, and afterwards with Bessie.'

Miss Mildmay glanced inquiringly at her elder niece.

'Yes,' said Jacinth, replying to the unspoken question. 'Those are the
girls Frances is so fond of--the Harpers.'

'Oh yes, I remember,' said Miss Mildmay. 'Their mother is an old friend
of the Scarletts, and the good souls were delighted to take the girls
at'----She stopped suddenly, aware that she had been on the point of
betraying a confidence, realising, too, that the subject of it was
scarcely suited for her young auditors, for Frances especially. But in
her slight confusion she stumbled on the very thing she was anxious to
avoid, so that it required little 'putting of two and two together' for
Jacinth to complete to herself, with an inward sm