A momentary hesitation on the part of the servant--a quick, light step outside along the pavement--a pleased exclamation from the visitor. "Oh, Sydney, there you are! I was just asking if I could see you or your sister;" and all Eugenia's foolish hopes are crushed flat again. "He" was only Frank Thurston--stupid, uninteresting, every-day Frank Thurston: at no time, save for old habit and association, a special favourite of Miss Laurence's; peculiarly and irritatingly unwelcome just at present, when the one boon the girl had been craving all day--the having Sydney to herself--would be destroyed by his intrusion. How could they talk over Eugenia's adventures with that great boy standing by, listening to all they said, and putting in his censorious comments?--as if his being a newly-fledged curate gave him a right of judgment of things that in no way concerned him! Sydney, of course, might like it, and accept his opinions; but as for herself--in extreme disgust at the disappointment he had innocently caused her, and prophetic indignation at the remarks she felt sure the well-meaning young clergyman would make, Eugenia softly closed the school-room door, and retired to the rug again, in vain hopes of being left in peace till the visitor had departed. But no; such was not to be the case. The voices came nearer--Sydney's sweet, even, and cheerful as usual; Frank's, for him, sounding surely eager and excited. What could he be in a fuss about? In they came; Sydney's fair face glowing with her quick walk in the cold, and with pleasurable excitement. "Oh, Eugenia dear, I thought I should never get away from poor aunt. She is so fidgety to-day! How lonely you must have been all day! I met Frank as I came in. What do you think he has come to tell us?" He was in a fuss about something then. Eugenia rather enjoyed it. It was her turn for once to be cool and critical. "You do look excited, Frank," she said, provokingly, returning, as she spoke, to the comfortable seat on the rug, from which she had risen to meet her sister. "What in the world is the matter? I thought fuss of every kind was against your principles." "There are exceptions to every rule," said the young man, stiffly. "Not that I am in a fuss, as you call it, Eugenia; but if I were it would be quite excusable." His tone brought a slight cloud over Sydney's face. The chronic, petty warfare between these two antagonistic spirits tried sorely her equanimity. Half unconsciously she turned towards her sister with an expression in her quiet blue eyes that struck home to Eugenia's good feeling. "I don't mean to be teasing, Frank," she said, gently. "I really should like to know what your news is. It must be good, for Sydney and you both looked so beaming when you came in."