it was inviting it."

"It wasn't," said Crickey, almost crying, for she had previously been
inclined to take it as a tribute to her charms. "Freddy and Estelle had
hid there before, and Captain Du Meresq said it was the best place in the
house."

"For that, no doubt," began the other. But Coey came to her sister's
assistance with a Biblical allusion to the mote and the beam, and
Bluebell saw that if personalities were to be avoided, they had better
go downstairs at once. So the party of ladies passed a quiet sleepy
evening,--Mrs. Rolleston mentally resolving not to encourage those girls
about the house while Du Meresq was at the lake, and wishing she could
expedite Cecil's return. How much more danger there was from Bluebell she
never suspected, Bertie had been so very cautious.

As they went up to bed, Crickey, who had become rather sobered by the
dull evening, entreated Bluebell not to mention the cupboard scene in
hide-and-seek, which was impatiently promised. To think that she should
be asked to keep any girl's secret about Bertie! "And now," thought the
poor bewildered child, "it will be almost more difficult than ever to see
him alone, and I must ask him if there _is_ anything between him and
Cecil." For that seed of bitterness sown by Lilla had borne "Dead Sea
fruit"; and, much as she struggled against the hateful idea, it really
seemed the only clue to Bertie's inconsistencies.

The next day Mrs. Rolleston had some letters, and reading one
attentively, she threw it over to Bluebell. "You didn't seem to care for
this some weeks ago, but you see you can think twice of it. I _did_ write
rather enthusiastically about your music, which, really, is too good to
be wasted on my children, and the result is Mrs. Leighton is quite wild
to have you."

A singular expression flitted over the girl's face as she mechanically
took the letter--it was only to gain time, she wasn't reading it; and the
large salary and kind promises of a happy home took no effect on her
mind.

She was thinking of Du Meresq. Suppose he was only trifling with her, and
all those warm protestations of affection were really to end in nothing!
She might even have to see him married to Cecil! The thought was
unendurable, yet it was possible; and, if so, how could she remain with
the Rollestons? And it would be almost as bad as returning to the
cottage, once "so rich with thoughts of him." Chance had thrown Du Meresq
again in her path, and she was de