“I am not in a hurry; it is because I must go,” said she, the almost child-like gayety quite gone out of her voice, which remained sweet, but low and grave; “besides, I--I ought not to have enjoyed myself so much. I had forgotten.” “Forgotten what?” said George, kindly. “To-day--my confirmation. It was wrong, very wrong of me! Such an example for my pupil Betty, too!” George could not help smiling. “I don’t think your bad example would do much harm to Betty, Miss Lane. I dare say she wishes she had a chance of spending her evening in the same way.” “I am afraid she does,” said the governess, simply. Then, hearing the voices of Lady Braithwaite and her daughter outside, she went out to meet them, followed by “the child,” and leaving the two elder brothers face to face. “Charming little creature! That dash of the prig leaves her a delicious spice of novelty,” said George, lighting a cigar, and seeming not to notice his brother’s frowns. “I thought ‘you didn’t choose your goddesses out of the Sunday-school’? I thought I ‘was to have undisturbed enjoyment of my discovery, as far as you were concerned’?” “And so you might have had, if you had had the wit to forestall me. The pleasure of her society was absolutely forced upon me, for I could not leave a defenseless woman to be bored to death all through dinner by William and Sir George.” “Where are you going?” asked the other, sharply, for George had his hand upon the door. “To the stables, if you have no objection.” “You are not going to see Miss Lane home?” shouted Harry. “By Jove, I never thought of it! But it would be a good action to save the poor little woman from a _tête-à-tête_ with such a cub.” In his delight at tormenting his fiery-tempered brother, George had gone a little too far. As he lounged against the doorway, a sudden blow had sent him reeling back into the gallery, the door was slammed, and his brother was at the other end of the corridor before he could say a word. Harry met his sister in the corridor. “Where’s Miss Lane?” “Why? What do you want with Miss Lane?” “Never mind. Where is she?” But his sister was in a teasing mood. She had more than George’s cruelty in her disposition, and, being a girl, she could give it freer rein. She delighted in watching the excited working of Harry’s face as she evaded his questions. “My dear boy, I am not Miss Lane’s guardian-angel. You should ask ‘the child’ where she is.” “For Heaven’s sake, don’t torment me so! You met her outside the picture-gallery a few minutes ago, and took her away with you.” “Oh, so I did! But you see I’ve dropped her somewhere.” Harry seized her arm and shook it roughly. But the action only roused the girl’s spirit from idle teasing to hot defiance. “Do you think you can make me tell you? If you were to kill me, I wouldn’t tell you unless I chose!”--and she shook herself free with a violence which sent him staggering a few paces. He changed his tactics.