e was being wasted in such
discussions. Yet here is this girl, not twenty, a child fresh from
school--a French school, at that--radiant with the power of her youth,
her beauty, her femininity; yet she seems actually interested in
problems of life unconnected with love affairs. She appears to like
talking sense, and she has humour, far more subtle than the mere,
kittenish sense of fun which belongs to her years--or lack of them. I
dreaded the responsibility of her, but I dreaded much more being bored
by her, flirted with by her. I'm hanged if I could have stood that from
the kind of girl I was prepared to see; but as I said, I've found a
"pal"--if I dared believe in her. Instead of avoiding my ward's society,
and shoving it on to Emily, as I intended, I excuse myself to myself for
contriving pretexts to bask in it.

To-day, for instance, what do you think I did? A shopping expedition was
in question. Emily, who never had much taste in dress, and now clothes
herself as if in punishment for sin, seems to know when other women are
badly turned out. She thinks it right that young girls should be simply
dressed, but considers that in the case of Ellaline simplicity has been
carried too far. You see, she doesn't know what you and I know about
that wretched fellow Lethbridge's end, and she believes his daughter has
plenty of money, or will have, on coming of age. Naturally, I don't
undeceive her. Emily is a good soul, but over-conscientious in questions
of money, and if she knew the truth she might be inclined to hold the
purse-strings tight. She might even be tempted to hint something
distressing to this poor girl, if the child vexed her by any thoughtless
little extravagance; whereas I wouldn't for a good deal have Ellaline's
daughter guess she owes anything to me.

Emily offered to choose frocks for Miss Lethbridge; whereupon that young
lady cast such a comical glance of despair at me--a glance which I think
was involuntary--that it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. I
saw so well what was in her mind! And if you will believe me, O'Hagan, I
volunteered to go with them.

Having committed myself, I had all the sensations of a fly caught on a
sheet of "Tanglefoot," or a prisoner of war chained to a Roman chariot;
but in the end I enjoyed myself hugely. Nothing better has happened to
me since I used to be taken to look at the toyshops the day before
Christmas. No, not even my first pantomime could beat this as an
e