A smile found its way to her cold eyes, and set the blue sparkling for one briefest moment. ‘It is very kind of you, Mr Cumbermede, but--’ ‘Kind!’ I exclaimed--‘I want your help, Miss Pease.’ ‘I’m afraid--’ ‘Lady Brotherton can’t want you now. Do oblige me. You will find it fun.’ She smiled outright--evidently at the fancy of any relation between her and fun. ‘Do go and put a cap on, and a cotton dress, and come,’ I persisted. Without another word she left the room. I was still alone in the library when she came to me, and having shown her what I wanted, we were already busy when the rest arrived. ‘Oh, Peasey! Are you there?’ said Clara, as she entered--not unkindly. ‘I have got a substitute for Miss Brotherton, you see, Clara--Miss Coningham--I beg your pardon.’ ‘There’s no occasion to beg my pardon. Why shouldn’t you call me Clara if you like? It _is_ my name.’ ‘Charley might be taking the same liberty,’ I returned, extemporizing a reason. ‘And why _shouldn’t_ Charley take the same liberty?’ she retorted. ‘For no reason that I know,’ I answered, a trifle hurt, ‘if it be agreeable to the lady.’ ‘And the gentleman,’ she amended. ‘And the gentleman,’ I added. ‘Very well. Then we are all good boys and girls. Now, Peasey, I’m very glad you’re come. Only mind you get back to your place before the ogress returns, or you’ll have your head snapped off.’ Was I right, or was it the result of the slight offence I had taken? Was the gracious, graceful, naïve, playful, daring woman--or could she be--or had she been just the least little bit vulgar? I am afraid I was then more sensitive to vulgarity in a woman, real or fancied, than even to wickedness--at least I thought I was. At all events, the first _conviction_ of anything common or unrefined in a woman would at once have placed me beyond the sphere of her attraction. But I had no time to think the suggestion over now; and in a few minutes--whether she saw the cloud on my face I cannot tell--Clara had given me a look and a smile which banished the possibility of my thinking about it for the present. Miss Pease worked more diligently than any of the party. She seldom spoke, and when she did, it was in a gentle, subdued, almost mournful tone; but the company of the young people, without the restraint of her mistress, was evidently grateful to what of youth yet remained in her oppressed being. Before it was dark we had got the books all upon the shelves, and leaving Charley with the ladies, I walked home.