"Dear Mildred!" she cried, "Poor Mildred! I am so sorry that your visit should be spoiled in this way, but remember what I told you the other day, dear, and try to avoid harsh judgments. It is a great concession for Lady Sarah to have acknowledged herself in the wrong in a dispute with a girl of your age; you must show how generous and forbearing you can be in return. I hope that after this you may be really good friends." Mildred said nothing, but her lips closed with an expression which Bertha and Lois recognised. They had seen it at school on more than one memorable occasion. Mildred was the dearest girl in the world, but she did not find it easy to forgive when her animosity had been aroused. CHAPTER NINE. THE FRENCH MAID. No further reference was made to the unpleasant scene in the library. Lady Sarah seemed disposed neither to offer nor to demand any sort of apology. Unnoticed by the girl, however, she constantly scrutinised her through her gold eye-glasses with a curiosity which was almost kindly. It seemed an impossibility for the old lady to refrain from interfering in the affairs of others, but for the next few days Mildred was allowed to go her own way undisturbed, while she devoted her attention to the daughters of the house. She assured Mrs Faucit that Lois's right shoulder was higher than the left, and insisted that she should be made to lie down for two hours every afternoon; she gave it as her opinion that, as the girls were now fifteen, they should not be allowed to go about unattended by a chaperone; and last, and worst of all, she showed the Dean a prospectus of a German school, to which she advised they should be sent at once. The twins were in despair, and many were the indignation meetings which were held in the school-room or the bedrooms overhead, while poor Mrs Faucit exhausted herself in the effort to smooth down both parties and to keep her husband in ignorance of what was passing before his very eyes. Meantime the date of the picnic drew nearer and nearer, and in connection with her own preparations Mildred met with an unexpected display of kindness on the part of no less a person than Cecile herself. The blue dress returned from the laundress looking crisper and fresher than ever in its newly-ironed folds, and when Mildred went up to her room the same afternoon she beheld Cecile seated by the dressing-table busily engaged in sewing the lace-frills round neck and sleeves. "Why, Cecile--you!" she exclaimed, and the Frenchwoman raised her shoulders with a shrug of protest. "Ah, Mademoiselle, what would you have? They are so careless, these servants. Mary would iron the lace as it was, sewn in the dress, but I say, `No, it is impossible so to do it well. You take it off,' I say, `and I shall sew it on. Mademoiselle Mildred shall not go to the picnic with frills untidy while I am in the house.'"