d out a pleasant place where they could all go, that
everything that had been harsh was forgotten. Indeed, it is very possible
in a family that a great many harsh things may be said and forgotten,
with little harm done--boys and girls who have been brought up in the
same nursery having generally insulted as well as caressed each other
with impunity from their earliest years. This happy effect of the bonds
of nature was no doubt made easier by the placid characters of the girls,
who had no inclination to brood over an unkindness, nor any habit of
thinking what was meant by a hasty word. On the contrary, when they
remembered it in the morning, after their sound night's sleep, they said
to each other that Theo could not possibly have meant it; that he must
have been out of temper, poor fellow. They even consented to listen and
to look when, with unusual amiability, he called them out to see what
trees he intended to cut down, and what he meant to do. Minnie and
Chatty indeed bewailed every individual tree, and kissed the big,
tottering old elm, which had menaced the nursery window since ever they
could remember, and shut out the light. "Dear old thing!" they said,
shedding a tear or two upon its rough bark. "It would be dear indeed if
it brought down the wall and smashed the old play-room," their brother
said,--an argument which even to these natural conservatives bore, now
that the first step had been taken, a certain value. Sometimes it is
not amiss to go too far when the persons you mean to convince are a
little obtuse. They entered into the question almost with warmth at
last. The flower garden would be so much improved, for one thing; there
never had been sun enough for the flowers, and the big trees had taken,
the gardener said, all the goodness out of the soil. Perhaps after all
Theo might be right. Of course he knew so much more of the world!

"And, mother, before you go, you should see--Lady Markland," Theo said.

There was a little hesitation in his voice before he pronounced the
name, but of this no one took any notice, at the time.

"I have been wondering what I should do. There has been no intimacy, not
more than acquaintanceship."

"After what has happened you surely cannot call yourselves mere
acquaintances, you and she."

"Perhaps not that: but it is not as if she had thrown herself upon my
sympathy, Theo. She was very self-contained. Nobody could doubt that she
felt it dreadfully; but she did not fling