nderstand me," said
Cecilia, kissing me. "What pretty hair you have, and how nice you keep
it, to be sure!--so smooth and glossy! Come, had we not better be going
down, do you think?"

So down we came, and found dinner ready; and I do not think I ever
thought of it again till I was going to bed. Then I said to Flora,--"Do
you like Cecilia Osborne?"

"I--think we had better not talk about people, Cary, if you please."

But there was such a pause where I have drawn that long stroke, that I
am sure that was not what she intended to say at first.

"Then you don't," said I, making a hit at the truth, and, I think,
hitting it in the bull's eye. "Well, no more do I."

Flora looked at me, but did not speak. Oh, how different her look is
from Cecilia's sudden flashes!

"She has been trying to pump me, I am sure, about you and Angus, and Mr
Keith," said I; "and I think it is quite as well I knew so little."

"What about?" said Flora.

"Oh, about money, mostly," said I. "Whether Uncle had much money, and
if Mr Keith was a rich man, and all on like that. I can't bear girls
who are always thinking about money."

Flora drew a long breath. "That is it, is it?" she said, in a low
voice, as she tied her nightcap, but it was rather as if she were
speaking to herself than to me. "Cary, perhaps I had better answer you.
I am afraid Miss Osborne is a very dangerous girl; and she would be
more so than she is if she were a shade more clever, so as to hide her
cards a little better. Don't tell her anything you can help."

"But what shall I say if she asks me again? because she wanted me not to
tell you that she had asked, but to get to know as if I wanted it
myself."

"Tell her to ask me," said Flora, with more spirit than I had expected
from her.

When Cecilia began again (as she did) asking me the same sort of things,
I said to her, "Why don't you ask Cousin Flora instead of me? She knows
so much more about it than I do."

Cecilia put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me.

"Because I like to ask you," said she, "and I should not like to ask
her."

My Aunt Kezia was just coming into the room.

"Miss Cecilia, my dear," said she, "do you always think what you like?"

"Of course, Mrs Kezia," said Cecilia, smiling at her.

"Then you will be a very useless woman," said my aunt, "and not a very
happy one neither."

"Happy--ah!" said Cecilia, with a long sigh. "This world is not the
place to find happiness."