"We have never been intimate with the Trevelyans, and I do not intend to be. I could not allow it. Dear aunt very much disapproved of certain things—of Mr. Trevelyan's opinions, and—Pray listen to me, Evelyn. You need not look so impatient. He holds most erroneous views about—and at one time dear aunt found him most unpleasant—" "Erroneous views about what?" "I see no necessity for explaining more. You are a mere child still, and cannot enter into these questions. Only you must understand that I should not think of allowing any intimacy. It is out of the question—and I expect strict obedience in the future." Sybella was becoming agitated, and she twirled her hands nervously. "Dear aunt would have said the same, and I am sure, if she had ever thought—My dear, pray listen to me." "I am listening. I cannot say that I understand. The Trevelyans seem to me the nicest people about here." "That is all perversity, Evelyn. You do not really know anything of them. They are well-connected, but as for manner—! It is out of the question that anybody should think Mr. Trevelyan attractive. And as for Mme. Collier—!" Sybella's tone spoke the very quintessence of contempt. "She is odd, but I like her. I like her immensely. She is so genuine. And Jean fascinates me. And Mr. Trevelyan is the best—the most really truly good man I ever came across. I could listen to his sermons for hours. Of course I have only heard him two or three times—I have not been to Dulveriford Church since you said I must not. But one very soon knows what does one good. I like even his queer dry manner. He is different from everybody else, and that is so refreshing." "You are saying all this to vex me, of course," quavered Sybella, reddening. "Just because you know how I feel. Go to Dulveriford Church! I should think not indeed!—From Ripley Brow at all events! And I expect the same obedience as to the acquaintance. Just politeness and no more. When, all these years, we have kept so carefully aloof—" "I don't think one ought to keep aloof from one's Rector. I don't think it is right." "Really, Evelyn—! But it all comes from your training. I always have felt it a thousand pities that you went to that school. If your dear Papa would have taken our advice—" "My father was the best judge." Evelyn made another backward step, which landed her on the lawn—a happy occurrence. It diverted Miss Devereux's attention from the Trevelyans to her pet hobby—health. "Child! The grass! And your thin shoes!" Evelyn turned and fled. She could not trust herself to remain longer; but it was a pity that she ran straight across the lawn. The deed looked like defiance. CHAPTER IV. SEVERELY SMITTEN. "She should never have looked at me, If she meant I should not love her." R. BROWNING. SYBELLA'S forehead wrinkled as Evelyn fled, and she sighed pensively.