here inEngland, as good-looking and far better-looking than we are--it is muchrarer to find a man as handsome as you, Phil. And then--we have hadmore anxieties and responsibilities than you, and they keep one frombeing spoilt."

  "I have granny," said Philip. "I don't mean that she is an anxiety or aresponsibility, but she is--pretty sharp on one, you know. She wouldn'tlet me be spoilt."

  "No," said Madelene, "she is very sensible. And after all you needn'tlook so cross, Philip. I didn't say you _were_ spoilt--I said on thecontrary it was great credit to you that you were not."

  "You didn't," said Philip, "you allowed me no credit whatever in thematter. I do think it's rather hard on me to have all this severehandling just because I said I liked nice speeches from people I caredfor--mind you, people I care for. That's quite a different thing frombeing open to flattery."

  "Well, of course, it is," said Madelene. "We don't seem to beunderstanding each other with our usual perfection of sympathy, somehow,to-day."

  "It's all because of that tiresome child's coming," said Ermine crossly."I'm afraid Philip is right in dreading it. `Coming events cast theirshadows before them.' I can't say I think Ella's advent is likely toadd to our sunshine."

  Just then came the sound of wheels up the avenue. "What can that be?"said Madelene.

  "Callers," Philip suggested.

  "No, it is getting too late. Besides--it sounds too slow and heavy fora carriage or pony-carriage. It is more like--" and she hesitated.

  "Maddie won't commit herself," said Ermine laughing. "She sets up for asort of `Fine Ear' in the fairy-story, don't you know, Philip?"

  "No," said Madelene. "It isn't that. I only hesitated because what Iwas going to say seemed so silly. I thought it sounded so like the oldWeevilscoombe fly--and what _could_ it be coming here for at this time?The old Miss Lyndens hire it when they come out for their yearly visit,but that is over and past a fortnight ago."

  That it was an arrival of some kind, however, became clear. In anotherminute the hall bell was heard to ring--it was a bell of ponderousclang, impossible to mistake for any other.

  Then the figure of Barnes, the butler--Barnes who never disturbedhimself except on occasions of peculiar importance--was seen hasteningalong the terrace. The three cousins stared at each other.

  "What can it be?" said Madelene, growing rather pale. "Can papa havemet with an accident?"

  The same thought had struck Sir Philip: he did not reply, but lookedapprehensively towards Barnes.

  "If you please, ma'am," said that functionary, puffing a little withexcitement and quick movement, "if you please, ma'am, it's--it's a lady.A young lady, with luggage--from Weevilscoombe, I suppose--anyhow, it'sthe Weevilscoombe fly as has brought her--" but though there was plentyof time for Madelene to have here exclaimed "I knew it," she did notavail herself of Barnes's pause, for this purpose.

  "A young lady;" she repeated; "there must be some mistake. We are notexpecting any one. What is her name--she gave it, I suppose?"

  "Yes, ma'am," said Barnes, hesitating still more--though he had all theair and bearing of an old servant he had not been more than five or sixyears in their service--"she did and she said as her name was `Miss StQuentin'."

  The three looked at each other again.

  "Miss St Quentin," they at last repeated, simultaneously, though notperfectly so--Madelene was a little behind the others and her "tin" cameout last.

  "I thought," began Barnes again, "I took the liberty of thinking, itmust be a mistake. From what I have 'eard, ma'am, I should say it was,so to say, a slip of the tongue, the young lady being accustomed to beso addressed, living at a distance, if so be as I shrewbly suspect thather rightful desergnation is Miss--Hella St Quentin, the third Miss StQuentin, ma'am."

  And again--too startled to feel any inclination to smile at the butler'sgrandiloquence, which was often, almost more than any one's risiblenerves could stand unmoved--the three cousins looked at each other. Andagain they made simultaneously the same exclamation; this timeconsisting of but one word,--

  "Ella!" they all three ejaculated.

  CHAPTER THREE.

  "IT IS REALLY ELLA."

  "What shall we do? What can be the matter?" said Madelene, when afteran instant's silence she began to take in the fact of Ella's arrival.

  "Receive her cordially of course. What else in Heaven's name can youdo?" Sir Philip replied with a touch of impatience. "After all thereis nothing so extraordinary in a girl's coming to her own father'shouse--even taking refuge there if, as is possible--"

  "She has been turned out of her aunt's," interrupted Ermine. "Yes, I'mcertain that's it--she and old Burton have come to blows and Ella's highspirits or high temper have proved too much for him."

  "Ermine," said Philip, warningly, "you should really," and he glanced inBarnes's direction.

  But if Barnes did hear what they were saying he at least appeared soabsolutely unconscious that Philip's remonstrance fell rather flat. Thebutler had retired to a few paces distance, where he stood awaitingorders with an irreproachably blank expression.

  "Is the young--is Miss Ella St Quentin in the library?" asked Sir Philipsuddenly.

  "Yes, my--I beg pardon--yes, Sir Philip," Barnes replied. His formermaster had been a peer, and even after some years of serving a commonerBarnes found it difficult to ignore the old habit.

  "Then go and tell her Miss St Quentin; mind you, say it distinctly, noMiss Madelene or Miss Ermine--the young lady is, as you supposed, MissElla St Quentin--say that Miss St Quentin will be with her immediately.You'd better go at once, Maddie."

  "She couldn't have meant to call herself Miss St Quentin--it was just anaccident, no doubt," said Madelene nervously.

  "Of course, but it's just as well from the first to remind her that sheis _not_ Miss St Quentin," said Philip. "Stupid of her aunt to have lether get into the habit. But Madelene--"

  "Yes, yes. Ermine, hadn't you better get some fresh tea?--this will becold," said Madelene, touching the teapot. "Philip, hadn't Erminebetter come too?"

  No one could have believed it of her--no one ever did believe itpossible that the cold, stately Madelene was in reality a martyr toshyness and timidity. But the two or three who knew her well, knew thefact and pitied her intensely, her cousin Philip among them. But heknew, too, the best way to treat it, cruel as it sometimes seemed.

  "No," he said, "decidedly not. You will get on much better alone,Maddie. Off with you, there's a good girl. And good-bye. I'm goinground to the stable-yard and I'll mount there. I'm dying withcuriosity, but all the same I'm too high-principled to indulge it. Itwouldn't do for me to stay--you and Ermine are quite enough for the poorchild to face at first."

  "Oh, Philip," said Madelene, stopping short again, for by this time shehad got a few yards on her way, "I thought you would have stayed to helpus."

  "Not I," Philip called after her. "It's much better not, I assure you.I'll look in to-morrow to see how you're all getting on, and to hear thewhole story. And if I meet Uncle Marcus on his way home, as I dare sayI shall, I'll tell him of the arrival, so as to save you having to breakit to him."

  "And do beg him to come home as quickly as he can," replied Madelene.

  Philip got up from his seat and moved to go.

  "Good-bye, Ermine," he said.

  Ermine looked at him dubiously.

  "Are you in earnest, Philip?" she said. "I have more than half an ideathat you are going off out of cowardice, and--and--that all your regardfor Ella's feelings, etc, is--"

  "What?" said Philip, smiling.

  "Talk," Ermine replied curtly.

  Philip laughed.

  "No, truly," he said. "All things considered it is much better for meto leave you. And it's quite true about my curiosity. I'm awfullycurious both to hear about it all and to see this little personage whohas descended among us in this thunder-and-lightning, bomb-shell sort ofway. By Jove--" and he stopped short, while a different expression cameinto his face-
-"what a nuisance it is to think that all our jolly timestogether are over! I was grumbling at it prospectively this morning--tothink that it has already come to pass."

  He sighed. Ermine sighed too.

  "Yes," she said, "it is horrid. For I know--as positively as if I couldhear what is at this moment passing in the