'The very thing I was sparing him! The thing of all others I would not have had him know for worlds! How did she know? What right had she to guess my most private feelings! It is past all forbearance; it is enough to disgust one.' 'It is hard to bear, certainly; but, Richard, the fault is after all a trifling one; the worst construction one can put on it is error of judgment and a simple want of tact; she had no idea she was harming you.' 'Harming me!' still more stormily; 'I shall never get over it. I have lost caste in my father's opinion; how will he be ever able to trust me now? If she had but given me warning of her intention, I should not be in this position. All these months of labour gone for nothing. Questioned, treated as a child--but, were he twenty times my father, I should refuse to be catechised;' and Richard took up his pen again, and went on writing, but not before Mildred had seen positive tears of mortification had sprung to his eyes. They made her feel softer to him--such a lad, too--and motherless--and yet so hard and impracticable--mannish, indeed!' She stooped over him, even venturing to lay a hand on his shoulder. 'Dear Cardie, if you feel she has injured you so seriously, there is all the greater need of forgiveness. You cannot refuse it to one so truly humble. She is already heart-broken at the thought she may have caused mischief.' 'Are you her ambassadress, Aunt Milly?' 'No; you know your sister better. She would not have ventured--at least----' 'I thought not,' he returned coldly. 'I wish her no ill, but, I confess, I am hardly in the mood for true forgiveness just now. You see I am no saint, Aunt Milly,' with a sneer, that sat ill on the handsome, careworn young face, 'and I am above playing the hypocrite. Tender messages are not in my line, and I am sorry to say I have not Roy's forgiving temper.' 'Dear Rex, he is a pattern to us all,' thought Mildred, but she wisely forbore making the irritating comparison; it would certainly not have lightened Richard's dark mood. With an odd sort of tenacity he seemed dwelling on his aunt's last words. 'You are wrong in one thing, Aunt Milly. I do not know my sister. I know Rex, and love him with all my heart; and I understand the foolish baby Chriss, but Olive is to me simply an enigma.' 'Because you have not attempted to solve her.' 'Most enigmas are tiresome, and hardly worth the trouble of solving,' he returned calmly. 'Richard! your own sister! for shame!' indignantly from Mildred. 'I cannot help it, Aunt Milly; Olive has always been perfectly incomprehensible to me. She is the worst sister, and, as far as I can judge, the worst daughter I ever knew. In my opinion she has simply no heart.' 'Perhaps I had better leave you, Richard; you are not quite yourself.' The quiet reproof in Mildred's gentlest tones seemed to touch him. 'I am sorry if I grieve you, Aunt Milly. I wish myself that we had never entered on this subject.'