‘How has she?’ he inquired.

‘Never mind.  Do you want to make her humble and crouch to you?’

‘I want to see Harrington,’ said Harry.

’He will not return to-night from Fallow field.  He has gone there to get Mr. Andrew Cogglesby’s brother to do something for him.  You won’t have such another chance of humbling them both—­both!  I told you his mother is at an inn here.  The Countess has sent Mr. Harrington to Fallow field to be out of the way, and she has told her mother all sorts of falsehoods.’

‘How do you know all that?’ quoth Harry.  ’By Jove, Juley! talk about plotters!  No keeping anything from you, ever!’

’Never mind.  The mother is here.  She must be a vulgar woman.  Oh! if you could manage, Harry, to get this woman to come—­you could do it so easily! while they are at the pie-nic tomorrow.  It would have the best effect on Rose.  She would then understand!  And the Countess!’

‘I could send the old woman a message!’ cried Harry, rushing into the scheme, inspired by Juliana’s fiery eyes.  ’Send her a sort of message to say where we all were.’

‘Let her know that her son is here, in some way,’ Juley resumed.

‘And, egad! what an explosion!’ pursued Harry.  ‘But, suppose—­’

’No one shall know, if you leave it to me-if you do just as I tell you, Harry.  You won’t be treated as you were this evening after that, if you bring down her pride.  And, Harry, I hear you want money—­I can give you some.’

‘You’re a perfect trump, Juley!’ exclaimed her enthusiastic cousin.

‘But, no; I can’t take it.  I must kiss you, though.’

He put a kiss upon her cheek.  Once his kisses had left a red waxen stamp; she was callous to these compliments now.

‘Will you do what I advise you to-morrow?’ she asked.

After a slight hesitation, during which the olive-hued visage flitted faintly in the distances of his brain, Harry said: 

’It ‘ll do Rose good, and make Harrington cut.  Yes!  I declare I will.’

Then they parted.  Juliana went to her bed-room, and flung herself upon the bed hysterically.  As the tears came thick and fast, she jumped up to lock the door, for this outrageous habit of crying had made her contemptible in the eyes of Lady Jocelyn, and an object of pity to Rose.  Some excellent and noble natures cannot tolerate disease, and are mystified by its ebullitions.  It was very sad to see the slight thin frame grasped by those wan hands to contain the violence of the frenzy that possessed her! the pale, hapless face rigid above the torment in her bosom!  She had prayed to be loved like other girls, and her readiness to give her heart in return had made her a by-word in the house.  She went to the window and leaned out on the casement, looking towards Fallowfield over the downs, weeping bitterly, with a hard shut mouth.  One brilliant star hung above the ridge, and danced on her tears.