“The handsome gentleman is very kind to amuse himself at the expense of a little country bumpkin, but he would do well to ascertain if his flattery would go down before administering it next time,” I said sarcastically, and I heard him calling to me as I abruptly went off to shut myself in my room.

“How dare anyone ridicule me by paying idle brainless compliments!  I knew I was ugly, and did not want any one to perjure his soul pretending they thought differently.  What right had I to be small?  Why wasn’t I possessed of a big aquiline nose and a tall commanding figure?” Thus I sat in burning discontent and ill-humour until soothed by the scent of roses and the gleam of soft spring sunshine which streamed in through my open window.  Some of the flower-beds in the garden were completely carpeted with pansy blossoms, all colours, and violets-blue and white, single and double.  The scent of mignonette, jonquils, and narcissi filled the air.  I revelled in rich perfumes, and these tempted me forth.  My ruffled feelings gave way before the delights of the old garden.  I collected a number of vases, and, filling them with water, set them on a table in the veranda near one of the drawing-room windows.  I gathered lapfuls of the lovely blossoms, and commenced arranging them in the vases.

Part of the old Caddagat house was built of slabs, and one of the wooden walls ran along the veranda side of the drawing-room, so the songs aunt Helen and Everard Grey were trying to the piano came as a sweet accompaniment to my congenial task.

Presently they left off singing and commenced talking.  Under the same circumstances a heroine of a story would have slipped away; or, if that were impossible without discovery, she would have put her fingers in her ears, and would have been in a terrible state of agitation lest she should hear something not intended for her.  I did not come there with a view to eavesdropping.  It is a degradation to which I never stoop.  I thought they were aware of my presence on the veranda; but it appears they were not, as they began to discuss me (wonderfully interesting subject to myself), and I stayed there, without one word of disapproval from my conscience, to listen to their conversation.

“My word, didn’t gran make a to-do this morning when I proposed to train Sybylla for the stage!  Do you know that girl is simply reeking with talent; I must have her trained.  I will keep bringing the idea before gran until she gets used to it.  I’ll work the we-should-use-the-gifts-God-has-given-us racket for all it is worth, and you might use your influence too, Helen.”

“No, Everard; there are very few who succeed on the stage.  I would not use my influence, as it is a life of which I do not approve.”

“But Sybylla would succeed.  I am a personal friend of the leading managers, and my influence would help her greatly.”

“Yes; but what would you do with her?  A young gentleman couldn’t take charge of a girl and bring her out without ruining her reputation.  There would be no end of scandal, as the sister theory would only he nonsense.”