But he did not know Stella. She was only a school-girl--innocent and ignorant of the ways of men and the world; but, perhaps, because of that--because she had not learnt the usual hackneyed words of evasion--the ordinary elementary tactics of flirtation, she was not to be taken by surprise. With a smile she turned her eyes upon him and shook her head. "Thank you; no, that is impossible. I have all my household duties to perform, and that"--pointing to the sun with her white slim hand--"reminds me that it is time I set about them." He took up his hat instantly, turning to hide the frown that knitted his brow and spoiled his face, and went up to the painter to say "good-morning." Mr. Etheridge started and stared at him; he had quite forgotten his presence. "Good-morning, good-morning--going? I beg your pardon. Won't you stop and take some tea with us?" "Mr. Adelstone would like some dinner first, uncle," said Stella. Then she gave him her hand. "Good-morning," she said, "and thank you very much for the flowers." He held her hand as long as he dared, then passed out. Stella, perhaps unconsciously, gave a sigh of relief. "Very nice young fellow, my dear," said Mr. Etheridge, without taking his eyes from the canvas. "Very clever, too. I remember him quite a little boy, and always said he would make his way. They say that he has done so. I am not surprised. Jasper----" "Jasper!" said Stella. "What a horrible name." "Eh? Horrible? I don't know--I don't know." "But I do," said Stella, laughing. "Well, what were you going to say?" "That Jasper Adelstone is the sort of man to insist upon having anything he sets his heart upon." "I am glad to hear it," said Stella, as she opened the door, "for his sake; and I hope, also for his sake, that he won't set his mind upon the sun or the moon!" and with a laugh she ran away. In the kitchen Mrs. Penford was awaiting her with unconcealed impatience. Upon the white scrubbed table stood the preparations for the making of pastry, an art which Stella, who had insisted upon making herself useful, had coaxed Mrs. Penfold into teaching her. At first that good woman had insisted that Stella should do nothing in the little household. She had announced with terrible gravity that such things weren't becoming to a young lady like Miss Stella, and that she had always done for Mr. Etheridge, and she always would; but before the second day had passed Stella had won the battle. As Mrs. Penfold said, there was no resisting the girl, who mingled willfulness with bewitching firmness and persuasion, and Mrs. Penfold had given in. "You'll cover yourself with flour, Miss Stella, and give your uncle the indigestion, miss, that you will," she remonstrated. "But the flour will brush off, and uncle needn't eat pies and puddings for a little while; I'll eat them, I don't mind indigestion," Stella declared, and she made a delightfully piquant little apron, which completed Mrs. Penfold's conquest.