On the way up to town Sheila had poured her whole history into Oscar’s ears, and had heard the story of his own trouble at home, and the shadow which rested upon him. She had not said much, there had been no excited outburst such as he had expected. Perhaps the presence of other people in the carriage was a check upon her, or perhaps she had learned something of the lesson of self-control and reticence. Anyway she had been unwontedly quiet during the last hours of the journey, and Oscar, who had felt very weary after his long hasty night journey down to Plymouth, had dozed in his corner. But now, after their arrival here, after their substantial meal below, they had come upstairs for a confidential talk which had been impossible before. “Oscar, I have thought it all out. It came to me first on ship-board, even before I knew anything about you and what had happened in the office. (Why didn’t you tell me in your letters?) I made up my mind then and there that I would never, never, never live at Cossart Place again. Aunt Cossart has behaved infamously to me. She has tried to spoil my life and make me always wretched and miserable. I will never forgive her. I will never see her again!” Oscar looked straight at his sister, but said nothing, for Sheila was proceeding with her old impetuosity. “You can’t understand what it was like there. Even Mrs. Reid understood and was indignant. Oh, yes, I know she was, by the little things she said, though, of course, she would not say much. Everybody knew. I feel as though I could never bear to see any of them again. She is a hateful woman. The Barretts told me how furious people were with her when they knew she was going to send me home. Everybody guessed why—that was the horridest part of it. And I had been so happy. Everybody was so kind, and I had to go without even saying good-bye, but I felt I couldn’t—I couldn’t! The Barrett girls declared they believed everybody would cut them for it. I’m sure I hope they will! Oh, I can’t help being angry—I can’t indeed!” “Sheila dear, don’t get excited,” said Oscar soothingly. “I can understand that it was very hard. It is very hard to be misunderstood, and to have things put down to us that we know we have not done, but we have talked over all that before. Tell me about this plan of yours.” “Oh, yes. Oscar, you will be twenty-one soon, won’t you?” “Yes. What has that to do with it?” “Everything, for you will have command over our money then.” “Yes; at least over my half, anyway, perhaps over it all. But it is not much, Sheila.”