Nothing was said till they had passed the ‘idle corner,’ where men and half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and stared at the lady making her exit, till they were through the short street with shop windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking, and had come into the quiet lane leading to the paddock. Then Lady Merrifield laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder very gently, and said, ‘It was too much for you, my dear, you are not quite strong yet.’ ‘Oh yes; I’m well. Only I am so very--very miserable,’ and the gust of sobs and tears rushed on her again. ‘Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!’ ‘You can’t! I’ve done it! And--and they’ll all be against me always--Uncle Regie and all!’ ‘Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I’m sure he will forgive you when he sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a fresh start. I am sure you were deceived.’ ‘Yes,’ said Dolores. ‘I never could have thought he--Uncle Alfred--was such a dreadful man.’ ‘I expect that since he lost your mother’s influence and help he may have sunk lower than when you had seen him before. Did your father give you any directions about him?’ ‘No. Father hated to hear of him’ and never spoke about him if he could help it; and we thought it was all Mohun high notions because he wasn’t quite a gentleman.’ ‘I see. Indeed, my dear, though you have done very wrong, I have already felt that there was great excuse for you in trying to keep up intercourse with a person who belonged to your mother. I wish you had told me, but I suppose you were afraid.’ ‘Yes’ said Dolores. ‘And I thought you were sure to be cross and harsh,’ she muttered. And then suddenly looking up, ‘Oh, Aunt Lily! everybody is angry but you--you and Mysie! Please go on being kind! I believe you’ve been good to me always.’ ‘My dear, I’ve tried,’ said Lady Merrifield, with fears in her brown eyes and a choke in her voice caressing the hand that had been put into hers. ‘I have wished very much to make you happy with us; but the ways of a large family must be a trial to a new-comer.’ Dolores raised her face for a kiss, and said, ‘I see it now. But I did not like everything always, and I thought aunts were sure to be unkind.’ ‘That was very hard. And why?’ She was heard to mutter something about aunts in books always being cross. ‘Ah! my dear! I suppose there are some unkind aunts, but I am sure there are a great many more who wish with all their hearts to make happy homes for their nieces. I hope now we may do so. I have more hope than ever I had, and so I shall write to your father.’ ‘And please--please,’ cried Dolores, ‘don’t let Uncle Regie write him a very dreadful letter! I know he will.’ ‘I think you can prevent that best yourself, by telling Uncle Regie how sorry you are. He was specially grieved because he thinks you told him two direct falsehoods.’