A few minutes later we were ourselves laughing merrily over the baby’s ineffectual efforts to catch a bunch of scarlet roses which George dangled above her head, and, altogether forgetful of Evelyn’s sneer, bumped our heads together in trying to kiss her.

In truth, my superb sense of womanhood lifted me quite above all frivolous suggestions; thenceforth George seemed to me physically almost as much of a baby as Mabel, and was nearly as dependent on my aid.  In his sudden fits of exhaustion and agony of such uncertain recurrence as to render it dangerous for him to venture forth alone, he always turned with confidence to my supporting and guiding hand.

I taught him his lessons in the intervals of my own studies, which he recited when he could to a private teacher, the same who gave me lessons.

Evelyn preferred a public school, and was sent, at her own request, to a fashionable establishment in the city attended by the elite alone, as the enormous prices charged for tuition indicated, as a day-boarder.  There she became proficient in mere mechanical music—­her ear being a poor one naturally—­and learned to speak two languages, dance to perfection, and conduct herself like a high-bred woman of fashion on all occasions and in all emergencies—­each and all necessities for a belle, which, it may be remembered, she had aspired to be, and announced her intention of becoming.

The fame of my father’s wealth, her own beauty, tact, and grace, and elegant attire, rendered her conspicuous among her school-mates, and from among these she selected as friends such as appeared to her most desirable as bearing on her future plans of life.  So that already Evelyn had made for herself a sphere outside and beyond any thing known in “Monfort Hall” or its vicinity.

My father, who, like all shy persons, admired cool self-possession and the leading hand in others, looked on with quiet approbation and some diversion at these proceedings.  He gave her the use of his equipage, his house, his grounds, reserving to himself only intact the refuge of his library, from which ark of safety he surveyed at leisure, with quiet, curious, and amused scrutiny, the gay young forms that on holiday occasions glided through his garden and conservatory, and filled his drawing-room and halls with laughter and revelry.

On such occasions I was permitted, on certain conditions, to appear as a spectator.  One of the most imperative of these was, that I was never to reveal to any one that Evelyn was not my own half-sister.

“You are not called upon to tell a story, Miriam, only to give them no satisfaction.  You see they might as well think part of all this wealth, which came from your mother, is mine.  It will in no way affect the reality—­only their demeanor—­for they every one worship money.”

“I would not care for such girls, sister Evelyn, nor what they thought,” I rejoined.  “Besides, are you not an earl’s granddaughter; why not boast of that instead, which would be the truth?”