"Well, Miss Moore, what is it all about? Pray let me hear what is wrong, so that I may put it right at once. If I am to have my dinner, this sort of thing cannot go on any longer." The girl's start of amazement was painful to behold. The sharp voice struck her like a blow, and she was absolutely ignorant as to her offence. "I--I don't understand! What have I done?" "Only kept your eyes fixed upon me from the moment you sat down until now. It is most ill-bred to stare in that undisguised manner. Pray, is there anything extraordinary in my appearance that you find it so impossible to look at anyone else?" The blood rushed into Mildred's cheeks, but she made no reply. "Is there anything extraordinary in my appearance, I ask you?" repeated Lady Sarah shrilly. It was impossible to avoid answering a second time, but while the listeners were trembling at the thought of what might happen next, Mildred raised her head, and answered, with suddenly-regained composure: "I did not know I was staring. I hope you will forgive me--I am very sorry if I have been rude." She spoke with a certain grave dignity, which sat well upon her, and Lady Sarah could not do otherwise than accept an apology so gracefully offered. Nevertheless the marked way in which the girl had avoided answering her question was, if possible, more galling than the original offence, and the glances which she sent across the table were the reverse of friendly. From this time forth it seemed impossible for Mildred to do anything right in Lady Sarah's eyes. Bertha and Lois were allowed to go on their way undisturbed, while the sharp tongue, which had been wont to vent its spleen upon them half a dozen times a day, found occupation in criticising their friend. She was rough, clumsy, awkward, Lady Sarah declared. She came into a room like a whirlwind; she ran up and downstairs more like a schoolboy than a young lady. As to her hair--that cloudy, golden hair which the others so much admired,--there was no end to the lectures poor Mildred received on this subject. It was disgracefully untidy--such a head of hair as no lady could possibly reconcile herself to possessing. In vain Mildred protested that the so-called untidiness was natural, and that no amount of brushing or damping could reduce those rebellious waves to order. Lady Sarah arched her eyebrows, and wished she might only have a chance of trying. She would guarantee to make it smooth enough. Mildred bit her lip and flushed indignantly. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she would be happy to grant the opportunity, run upstairs for her brushes, and force the old lady to prove the fallacy of her statements; but she restrained herself, and felt more than repaid for the effort when Mrs Faucit followed her out of the room a few moments later, and said: