Eve appreciated his efforts. She saw that he understood her, which Barbara did not; she and Jasper had a world of ideas in common from which her sister was shut out. Eve took great delight in talking to Jasper, but her chief delight was in listening to him when he played the violin, or in accompanying him on the piano. Old violin music was routed out of the cupboards, fresh was ordered. Jasper introduced her to a great deal of very beautiful classical music of which she was ignorant. Hitherto she had been restrained to a few meagre collections: the ‘Musical Treasury,’ the ‘Sacred Harmonist,’ and the like. Now, with her father’s consent, she ordered the operas of Mozart, Beethoven’s sonatas, Rossini, Boieldieu, and was guided, a ready pupil, by Jasper into this new and enchanted world. By this means Jasper gave Eve an interest, which hitherto she had lacked—a pursuit which she followed with eagerness. Barbara was dissatisfied. She thought Jasper was encouraging Eve in her frivolity, was diverting her from the practical aims of life. She was angry with Jasper, and misinterpreted his motives. The friendship subsisting between her sister and the young steward was too warm. How far would it go? How was it to be arrested? Eve was inexperienced and wilful. Before she knew where she was, Jasper would have gained her young heart. She was so headstrong that Barbara doubted whether a word of caution would avail anything. Nevertheless, convinced that it was her duty to interfere, she did speak, and, of course, gained nothing by so doing. Barbara lacked tact. She spoke to Eve plainly, but guardedly. ‘Why, Bab! what are you thinking of? Why should I not be with Mr. Jasper?’ answered Eve to her sister’s expostulation. ‘I like him vastly; he talks delightfully, he knows so much about music, he plays and sings the tears into my eyes, and sets my feet tingling to dance. Papa does not object. When we are practising I leave the parlour door open for papa to hear. He says he enjoys listening. Oh, Barbie! I wish you loved music as I do. But as you don’t, let me go my way with the music, and you go your way with the groceries.’ ‘My dearest sister,’ said Barbara, ‘I do not think it looks well to see you running after Mr. Jasper.’ ‘Looks well!’ repeated Eve. ‘Who is to see me? Morwell is quite out of the world. Besides,’ she screwed up her pretty mouth to a pout, ‘I don’t run after him, he runs after me, of course.’ ‘My dear, dear Eve,’ said Barbara earnestly, ‘you must not suffer him to do so.’ ‘Why not?’ asked Eve frankly. ‘You like Ponto and puss to run after you, and the little black calf, and the pony in the paddock. What is the difference? You care for one sort of animals, and I for another. I detest dogs and cats and bullocks.’