"I'm not going to oblige you in that way," said Fluff. "Frances is particularly engaged--she can't come. Do you know he came all the way from Australia on purpose? What can a lamp matter?" "What a lot of rubbish you're talking, child! Who came from Australia? Oh, that tiresome Arnold! A lamp does matter, for I want to read." "Well, then, I'll attend to it," said Fluff. "What is the matter with it?" "The wick isn't straight--the thing will smell, I tell you." "I suppose I can put it right. I never touched a lamp before in my life. Where does the wick come?" "Do be careful, Ellen, you will smash that lamp--it cost three and sixpence. There, I knew you would; you've done it now." The glass globe lay in fragments on the floor. Fluff gazed at the broken pieces comically. "Frances would have managed it all right," she said. "What a useless little thing I am! I can do nothing but dance and sing and talk. Shall I talk to you, squire? We don't want light to talk, and I'm dying to tell you what I've discovered." "Well, child, well--I hate a mess on the floor like that. Well, what is it you've got to say to me, Fluff? It's really unreasonable of Frances not to come. She must have finished her tea long ago." "Of course she has finished her tea; she is talking to Mr. Arnold. He came all the way from Australia to have this talk with her. I'm so glad. You'll find out what a useful, dear girl Frances is by and by, when you never have her to trim your lamps." "What do you mean, you saucy little thing? When I don't have Frances; what do you mean?" "Why, you can't have her when she's--she's married. It must be wonderfully interesting to be married; I suppose I shall be some day. Weren't you greatly excited long, long ago, when you married?" "One would think I lived in the last century, miss. As to Frances, well--well, she knows my wishes. Where did you say she was? Really, I'm very much disturbed to-day; I had a shock, too, this morning--oh! nothing that you need know about; only Frances might be reasonable. Listen to me, Fluff; your father is in India, and, it so happens, can not have you with him at present, and your mother, poor soul, poor, dear soul! she's dead; it was the will of Heaven to remove her, but if there is a solemn duty devolving upon a girl, it is to see to her parents, provided they are with her. Frances has her faults, but I will say, as a rule, she knows her duty in this particular." The squire got up restlessly as he spoke, and, try as she would, Fluff found she could no longer keep him quiet in the dark south parlor. He went to the open window and called his daughter in a high and peevish voice. Frances, however, was nowhere within hearing. The fact was, when they were quite alone, Philip took her hand and said, almost peremptorily: "There is a seat under the elm-trees; we can talk there without being disturbed."