n her eyes touched Lady Myrtle more than Frances's tears.
And in what she said, so far as it went, Jacinth was sincere. She did
shrink from any possible allusion that could annoy or upset her kind
friend; and the selfish motives underlying the prejudice, almost
amounting to positive dislike, which she had allowed to take root in her
feelings to the Harpers, she blinded herself to, or called by some other
name.

Lady Myrtle was silent, but there was no resentment in her face. She
only looked sad--very, very sad.

'You know these girls very much less well than Frances did,' said Miss
Mildmay, whose sympathies were just now all with Jacinth. 'You see,' she
went on, turning to her hostess, 'Frances has been in the habit of
spending holiday afternoons at school--sometimes when you had kindly
invited Jacinth here, on a Saturday, for instance.'

Lady Myrtle started a little. Her thoughts had been far away. She leaned
forward and took hold of Jacinth's hand--Jacinth was sitting next to
her, and the servants had left the room--and patted it affectionately.

'Of course. I know Jacinth is very, very thoughtful for me,' she said.
'And I see that you understand it, my dear Miss Mildmay. Not that I am
vexed with little Frances. I like children to be children, and of all
things I like a loyal friend.'

Then she at once and with evident intention, which the others were quick
to read, changed the subject of conversation. On the whole, vexed though
she was with Frances's persistence--'self-willed obstinacy' as she
called it to herself--Jacinth felt that the dreaded crisis had passed
off better than might have been expected, and in some things it was a
relief. Things were on a clearer basis now.

'It was bound to come, I suppose,' she said to herself. 'Mamma seems
almost as impulsive and quixotic as Frances--quite bewitched by these
people. But at worst there's nothing more to tell now, and Lady Myrtle
appreciates my feelings if no one else does.'

Frances, on her side, though her heart was still beating tumultuously,
felt glad that she had had the courage and opportunity to say what she
had. But for her dread of a private reprimand from Jacinth afterwards,
the little girl would on the whole have had a somewhat lightened heart
about her friends. For, as she said to herself, 'Lady Myrtle had
certainly not seemed angry.'

Strange to say, the anticipated reproof from Jacinth never came. It was
true there was not much time for any pr