“No, Leila, I think you had better not. You have done nothing to make her angry. I am sure it is not that. Matilda is never the better of being alone with Lydia Mildmay; I am quite sorry now we left them so much together; but I so dislike appearing to watch them; I fear something has happened, for I know the expression of Matilda’s face so well--it was not only at the moment of parting she was so much overset. Did you not observe her at dinner?” “No, I did not look at her much, but I think she was in good spirits then; I remember now she laughed two or three times.” “Yes, she tried to laugh; but she looked very unhappy; and it was only when she saw me looking at her that she laughed. At one time she kept crumbling all her bread down on the carpet, as if she did not know what she was about, and once or twice she could scarcely swallow. Then mamma said something to her, and she grew very red, and seemed to wish to hide her hands under the table.” “O I can tell you what made her grow red then. I heard Aunt Stanley tell her that she must have forgotten to wash her hands before dinner; and, to be sure, her nails were quite as black as if she had been grubbing in the earth like little Alfred.” Selina shook her head. “I don’t understand it,” she said; “but I fear Matilda has done something wrong.” “Then I am sure it must be Lydia’s fault if she has,” Leila said eagerly: “for Mrs. Roberts says she improved so much of late. I am so sorry I invited Lydia, and papa advised me not; he said he thought we three would be quite happy together. I wish he had said steadily, ‘No, Leila, I don’t wish it;’ but he very seldom now tells me I am not to do a thing, as he used to do in the island; he says now that I am older I should learn to govern myself, and that in most cases he wishes only to advise. So it is my fault also if Matilda has done wrong, for I invited Lydia.” “But, Leila, we must not blame Lydia without knowing. How can we but----” She was interrupted by Matilda looking into the room, she drew hastily back, but on Selina calling to her, she advanced a few steps, hesitated, and looking anxiously in Leila’s face for a moment, again left the room. They both observed that her eyes were swoln with weeping, and Selina, now seriously alarmed, said she must go into the drawing-room, and find out if her mamma was aware if any thing was wrong. She thought now she should speak to her mamma, and she would come up into Leila’s room and tell her what she had heard. Selina had not been in the drawing-room many minutes when the door opened, and Leila darted in, exclaiming, “Oh! Selina, my flowers, my precious flowers! Clara’s flowers are dying.”