'Papa is so independent,' she reflected. 'Even if _mamma_ had a lot of
money, I don't believe he'd be satisfied without working as hard as
ever. And of course he loves his profession.'

Then she determined not to be silly, and to think no more about it. But
her dreams that night were very fantastic and rosy-hued. She awoke in
the morning from a vision of a wonderful room of which the walls were
painted all over with robins, which suddenly burst out singing her name,
'Jacinth, Jacinth,' to find that Frances was awake and calling to her.

'Oh Francie, I was having _such_ an interesting dream,' she said. 'I
wish you hadn't awakened me: I can't remember what was dreams and what
wasn't,' she went on sleepily. 'Did we really go inside Uncle Marmy's
gates, and see?'----

'Of course we did,' said Frances, 'and I've got such a good thought.
Don't you think we might go that way again to-day and take mamma's last
photograph with us? Lady Myrtle would be sure to like to see it, and we
needn't ask for her, you know. And it would keep her from forgetting us,
and anyway we might walk round the garden, I should think.'

'No,' said Jacinth, 'we can't do anything like that without Aunt
Alison's leave, and of course we can't ask for leave unless Lady Myrtle
writes to Aunt Alison. And there's no telling if she will. She may be
one of those whimsical old people that mean to do a thing, and then
think better of it and do nothing.'

Frances's face fell.

'Oh, I do hope not,' she said. 'Somehow I don't _think_ she's that sort
of old lady.'

Nor in her heart did Jacinth. The expression of her misgivings had been
as much or more to damp or check herself as Frances. For she was
startled to find how wildly she had been indulging in building
air-castles. Few, if any, even of those she had spent her life among,
knew Jacinth Mildmay thoroughly, or had any suspicion of the
impressionableness, the almost fantastic imagination, hidden under her
quiet, almost cold exterior. But to some extent she knew herself better
than is often the case at her age. She was well aware that she needed
strict holding in hand; she sometimes even went too far in judging as
contemptible weaknesses, feelings and impulses which were full of good.

But as regards the fancies which since yesterday had been so absorbing
her, she was in the right. Even apparently harmless hopes and wishes
dependent on the caprice, or, if carried where they _may_ lead to,
contingent on t