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 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD.
 
 THE 
 
 TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD 
 
 BY 
 
 CHAELOTTE M. YONGE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE HEIR OF REDCLTFFE," " UXKXOWN TO HISTORT," ETC. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 1L o ntio n ; 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 1885.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
 
 V. I 
 
 I PREFACE. 
 
 3 
 
 CO 
 
 It is sometimes treated as an impertinence to revive 
 crj the personages of one story in another, even though 
 ^ it is after the example of Shakespeare, who revived 
 00 Falstaff, after his death, at the behest of Queen Eliza- 
 
 beth. This precedent is, however, a true impertinence 
 ^ in calling on the very great to justify the very small ! 
 Yet many a letter in youthful handwriting has 
 
 begged for further information on the fate of the 
 i" beings that had become favourites of the school-room ; 
 
 and this has induced me to believe that the following 
 
 out of my own notions as to the careers of former 
 
 
 heroes and heroines might not be unwelcome ; while 
 I have tried to make the story stand independently 
 for new readers, unacquainted with the tale in which 
 Lady Merrifield and her brothers and sisters first 
 appeared. 
 
 " Scenes and Characters " was, however, published 
 so long ago, that the young readers of this generation
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 certainly will only know it if it has had the good 
 fortune to have been preserved by their mothers. It 
 was only my second book, and in looking back at it 
 so as to preserve consistency, I have been astonished 
 at its crudeness. 
 
 It will explain a few illusions to state that it is 
 the story of the motherless family of Mohuns of 
 Beechcroft, with a kindly deaf father at the head, 
 Mr. Mohun, whose pet name was the Baron of Beech- 
 croft, owing to a romantic notion of his daughters 
 made fun of by his sons. The eldest sister, a 
 stiff, sensible, dry woman, had just married and gone 
 to India, leaving her post to the next in age, Emily, 
 who was much too indolent for the charge. Lilias, 
 the third in age, with her head full of the kind of 
 high romance and sentiment more prevalent thirty or 
 forty years ago than now, imagined that whereas the 
 household had formerly been ruled by duty, it now 
 might be so by love. Of course, confusion dire was 
 the consequence, chiefly with the younger boys, the 
 scientific, cross-grained Maurice, and the high-spirited, 
 turbulent Beginald, all the mischief being fomented 
 by Jane's pertness and curiosity, and only mitigated 
 by the honest simplicity and dutifulness of eight years 
 old Phyllis. The remedy was found at last in the 
 marriage of the eldest son William with Alethea 
 Weston, already Lilias's favourite friend and model.
 
 PKEFACE. vil 
 
 That in a youthful composition there should be a 
 cavalier ancestry, a family much given to dying of 
 consumption, and a young marquess cousin is, per- 
 haps, inevitable. Lord Botherwood was Mr. Mohun's 
 ward, and having a dull home of his own, found his 
 chief happiness as well as all the best influences of 
 his life, in the merry, highly-principled, though easy- 
 going life at his uncle's, whom he revered like a 
 father, while his eager, somewhat shatter-brained 
 nature often made him a butt to his cousins. All 
 this may account for the tone of cameraderie with 
 which the scattered members of the family meet 
 again, especially around Lilias, who had, with her 
 cleverness and enthusiasm, always been the leading 
 member of the group. 
 
 It should, perhaps, also be mentioned that Lord 
 Botherwood' s greatest friend was also Lilias's favourite 
 brother, Claude, who had become a clergyman and 
 died early. Aunt Adeline had been the spoilt child 
 and beauty of the family, the youngest of all. 
 
 C. M. YOXGE. 
 
 March %th, 1885.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHATTER PAGE 
 
 I. What will become of me ? ... ... ... 1 
 
 II. The Merrifields ... ... ... ... 14 
 
 III. Good-bye ... ... ... ... ... 25 
 
 IV. TURNED IX AMONG THEM ... ... ... 40 
 
 V. The First Walk ... ... ... ... 63 
 
 VI. Persecution ... ... ... ... ... 85 
 
 VII. G.F.S 104 
 
 VIII. My Persecuted Uncle ... ... ... 130 
 
 IX. Letters ... ... ... ... ... 150 
 
 X. The Evening Star ... ... ... ... 166 
 
 XI. Secret Expeditions ... ... ... ... 186
 
 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME ? 
 
 A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which 
 showed a table of small dimensions, with a vase of 
 somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses in the centre,, 
 and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentle- 
 man had helped himself and a young girl of about 
 thirteen, without much apparent consciousness of 
 what he was about, being absorbed in a pile of papers, 
 pamphlets, and letters, while she on her side kept a 
 book pinned open by a gravy spoon. The elderl}' 
 maid-servant, who set the dishes before them, handed 
 the vegetables and changed the plates, really came as 
 near to feeding the pair as was possible with people 
 above three years old. 
 
 The one was a dark, thin man, with a good deal of 
 white in his thick beard and scanty hair, the absence 
 of which made the breadth of his forehead the mor< 
 
 vol. i. r,
 
 2 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 remarkable. The girl would have shown an equally 
 remarkable brow, but that her dark hair was cut 
 square over it, so as to take off from its height, and 
 give a heavy over-hanging look to the upper part of 
 the face, which below was thin and sallow, well- 
 featured, but with a want of glow and colour. The 
 thick masses of dark hair were plaited into a very 
 long thick tail behind, hanging down over a black 
 evening frock, whose white trimmings were, like 
 everything else about the place, rather dingy. She 
 was far less absorbed than her father, and raised 
 a quick, wistful brown eye whenever he made the 
 least sound, or shuffled his papers. Indeed, it seemed 
 that she was reading in order to distract her anxiety 
 rather than for the sake of occupation. 
 
 It was not till after the last pieces of cheese had 
 been offered and refused, and the maid had retired, 
 leaving some dull crackers and veteran biscuits, with 
 two decanters and a claret-jug, that he spoke. 
 
 " Dolores ! " 
 
 "Yes, father." 
 
 But he only cleared his throat, and looked at his 
 letter again, while she fixed her eager eyes upon him 
 so earnestly that he let his fall again, and looked 
 once more over his letters before he spoke again. 
 
 " Dolores," and the tone was dry, as if all feeling 
 were driven from it. 
 
 " Yes, father." 
 
 " You know that I have accepted this appoint- 
 ment ? "
 
 ij WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? 3 
 
 "Yes, father." 
 
 " And that I shall be absent three years at the 
 least ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then comes the question, how you are to be 
 disposed of in the meantime ? " 
 
 "Could not I go with you?" she said, under her 
 breath. 
 
 " Xo, my dear." And somehow the tone had more 
 tenderness in it, though it was so explicit. " I shall 
 have no fixed residence, no one with whom to leave 
 you ; and the climate is not fit for you. Your Aunt 
 Lilias has kindly offered to take charge of you." 
 
 " Oh, father ! " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " If you would only let me stay here with Caroline 
 and Friiulein. I like it so much better." 
 
 " That cannot be, Dolly. I have this morning 
 promised to let the house as it is to Mr. Smithson." 
 
 " And Caroline ? " 
 
 " If Caroline takes my advice, she will remain here 
 as his housekeeper, and I think she will. Well, what 
 is it ? You do not mean that you would prefer going 
 to your Aunts Jane and Ada ? " 
 
 " Oh no, no ; only if I might go to school." 
 
 "This is nonsense, Dolores. It will be much 
 better for you on all accounts to be with your aunt at 
 Silverfold. I have no fear that she and her girls will 
 not do their best to make you happy and good, and to 
 give you what you have sadly wanted, my poor child.
 
 4 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 I have always wished you could have seeu more 
 of her." 
 
 There could be no doubt from the tone, in the mind 
 of any one who knew Mr. Maurice Mohun, that the 
 decision was final ; but perhaps Dolores would have 
 asked more if the door-bell had not rung at the 
 moment and Mr. Smithson had not been announced. 
 Fate was closing in on her. She retired into her 
 book, and remained as long as she possibly could, for 
 the sake of seeing her father and hearing his voice ; 
 but after a time she was desired to call Caroline, and 
 to go to bed herself, for it was a good deal past nine 
 o'clock. 
 
 She had been aware, she could hardly tell how, that 
 her father had been offered a government appoint- 
 ment connected with the Fiji Islands, and then that, 
 glad to escape from the dreariness which had settled 
 down on the house since his wife's death, about 
 eighteen months previously, he had accepted it, and 
 she had speculated much on her probable fate ; but 
 had never before been officially informed of his 
 designs for himself or for her. 
 
 He was a barrister, who spent all his leisure time 
 on scientific studies, and his wife had been equally 
 devoted to the same pursuits. Dolores had been her 
 constant companion; but after the mother's death, 
 from an accident on a glacier, a strange barrier of 
 shyness had risen between the child and the father, 
 a man natural!}' taciturn, and with no power of 
 throwing himself into the ways of a girl past the
 
 i.] WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? 5 
 
 charms of infancy. It was as if they had lost their 
 interpreter. 
 
 The German governess, chosen by Mrs. Mohun, 
 was very German indeed, and greatly occupied in her 
 own studies. When she found that the armes-liebes 
 Madchen shrank from being wept over and caressed 
 on the mournful return, she decided that the English 
 had no feeling, and acquiesced in the routine of 
 lessons and expeditions to classes. She was never 
 unkind, but she did not try to be a companion ; and 
 old Caroline was excellent in the attention she paid 
 to the comforts of her master and his daughter, but 
 had no love of children, and would not have en- 
 couraged familiarities, even if Dolores had not been 
 too entirely a drawing-room child to offer them. 
 
 The morning came, and everything went on as 
 usual; Dolores poured out the coffee, Mr. Mohun 
 read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but afterwards 
 he asked for a few minutes' conversation with Fraulein. 
 All that Dolores heard of the result of it was " So," 
 and then lessons went on until twelve o'clock, when 
 it was the custom that the girl should have an hour's 
 recreation, which was, in any tolerable weather, spent 
 in the gardens of the far west Crescent, where she 
 lived. There she was nearly certain of meeting her 
 one great friend, Maude Sefton, who was always sent 
 out for her airing at the same time. 
 
 They spied each other issuing from their doors, 
 met, linked their arms, and entered together. Maude 
 was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow bush down
 
 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 her back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great 
 deal bigger. 
 
 "My dearest Doll!" 
 
 " Oh yes, it is come." 
 
 " Then he is really going? I heard the pater and 
 mater talking about it yesterday, and they said it 
 would be an excellent thing for him." 
 
 " Oh, Maude ! Then they did not say anything 
 about what we hoped ? " 
 
 "What, the mater's offering for you to come and 
 live with us, darling ? Oh no ; and I'm afraid it is 
 of no use to ask her, for she said of herself, that she 
 knew Mr. Mohun had sisters, and " 
 
 " And what ? Tell me, Maude. You must ! " 
 
 "Well, then, you know you made me, and I think 
 it is a shame. She said she was glad she wasn't one 
 of them, for you were such a peculiar child." 
 
 "Dear me, Maude, you needn't mind telling me 
 that ! I'm sure I don't want to be like everybody else." 
 
 " And are you going to one of your aunts ? " 
 
 "Yes, to Aunt Lilias. Oh, Maude, he would not 
 hear a word against it, and I know it will be so 
 horrid ! Aunts are always nasty ! " 
 
 "Kate is very fond of her aunt," said Maude, who 
 did not happen to have any personal experiences to 
 oppose to this sweeping assertion. 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean proper aunts, but aunts that 
 have orphans left to them." 
 
 " But you are not an orphan, darling." 
 
 "I dare say I shall be. 'Tis a horrible climate,
 
 I.] WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? 7 
 
 and there are no end of cannibals there, so that he 
 would not take me out for anything, — and sharks, 
 and volcanoes, and hurricanes." 
 
 " I don't think they eat people there now." 
 
 "It's bad enough if they don't! And you know 
 those aunts begin pretty well, while they are in fear 
 of the father, but then they get worse." 
 
 " There was Eda Morton," said Maude, in a tone 
 of conviction, " and Anna Ross." 
 
 "Oh yes, and another book, 'Rose Turquand.' It 
 was a grown-up book, that I read once — long ago," 
 said Dolores, who had in her mother's time been 
 allowed a pretty free range of "book-box." 
 
 "And there's ' Under the Shield, 'but that was a boy." 
 
 " There are lots and lots," said Dolores. " They 
 are ever so much worse than the stepmothers ! Not 
 that there is any fear of that ! " she added quickly. 
 
 " But isn't this Aunt Lilias nice ? It's a pretty 
 name. Which is she ? You have one aunt a Lady 
 Something, haven't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is this one, Lady Merrifield. Her husband 
 is a general, Sir Jasper Merrifield, and he is gone 
 out to command in some place in India; but she 
 cannot stand the climate, and is living at home at a 
 place called Silverfold, with a whole lot of children. 
 I think two are gone out with their father, but there 
 are a great many more." 
 
 " Don't you know them at all ? " 
 
 "No, and don't want to ! I think my aunts were 
 unkind to mother ! "
 
 8 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Maude. 
 
 " I am sure of it. They were horrid, stuck-up, fine 
 ladies, and looked down on her, though she was ever 
 so much nicer, and cleverer, and more intellectual 
 than they; and she looked down on them." 
 
 "Are you sure?" asked Maude, to whom it was as 
 good as a story. 
 
 "Yes, indeed. She was civil, of course, hecause 
 they were father's sisters, but I know she couldn't 
 bear them. If any of them came to London, there 
 was a calling, but all very stupid, and a dining at 
 Lord Bother wood's ; but she never would, except once, 
 when I can hardly remember, go to stay at their slow 
 places in the country. I've heard father try to per- 
 suade her when they didn't think I understood. You 
 know we always went abroad, or to the sea or some- 
 thing, except last year, when we were at Beechcroft. 
 That wasn't so bad, for there were lots of books, and 
 Uncle Beginald was there, and he is jolly." 
 
 " Can't you get Mr. Mohun to send you there ? " 
 
 "No, I don't think they would have me, for every- 
 body there is grown up, and father seems to have a 
 wish for me to be with this Aunt Lilias, because she 
 has a schoolroom." 
 
 " I wonder he should wish it, if she was unkind to 
 Mrs. Mohun." 
 
 " Well, she was out of the way most of the time. 
 They have lived at Malta, and Gibraltar, and Belfast, 
 and all sorts of places, so they will all have regular 
 garrison frivolous manners, and think of nothing but
 
 i.] WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? 9 
 
 officers and balls. I know she was a beauty, and 
 wants to be one still." 
 
 " Maude, whose father was a professor, looked quite 
 appalled and said — 
 
 " You will be the one to infuse better things." She 
 felt quite proud of the word. 
 
 "Perhaps," returned Dolores; "they always do 
 that in time, but not till they've been awfully bullied. 
 All the cousins are jealous, and the aunt spites them 
 because they are nicer and prettier than her own." 
 
 " Yes," said Maude, " but then there's always some 
 tremendously nice boy-cousin, or uncle, or something, 
 that makes up for it all. Will Sir Jasper Merrineld's 
 eldest son be a Sir ? " 
 
 " Oh no ; he's not a baronet, but a G.C.B., Knight 
 Grand Cross of the Bath, that is. Besides, I don't 
 care for love, and titles, and all that nonsense, though 
 father is first cousin to Lord Botherwood." 
 
 " And you never saw any of them ? " 
 
 " Yes, Aunt Lilias was at the Charing Cross Hotel 
 with Uncle Jasper and the two eldest daughters, 
 Alethea and Phyllis, and some more of them, just 
 before they sailed ; and father took me there on 
 Sunday to luncheon ; but there were so many people, 
 and such a talk, and such a bustle, that I hardly 
 knew which was which. Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada 
 were there too, and Lord Botherwood, and there was 
 such a talking that it made my head turn round; 
 but I saw how affected Aunt Lilias is, and I 
 knew that whenever they looked at me they said
 
 10 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " poor child/' and I always hate any one who does 
 that ! All I was afraid of then was that father would 
 let Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada come and live with us ; 
 but this is ever so much worse." 
 
 "You have such a lot of aunts and uncles ! " said 
 Maude, " and I have not got anything but one old 
 uncle." 
 
 " Uncles are all very well," said Dolores, saga- 
 ciously ; " it's the aunts. And then mother used to 
 say the Mohuns are all so narrow ! I shall never get 
 on with them." 
 
 " Let me see if I know them all," said Maude. 
 " There are the two Miss Mohuns " 
 
 " Oh, that's beginning at the wrong end. Aunt Ada 
 is the youngest of them all, and she thinks she is a 
 young lady still, and wears little curls on her forehead, 
 and a tennis pinafore, and makes her waist just like a 
 wasp. She and Aunt Jane live together at Bockquay, 
 because she has bad health — at least she has when- 
 ever she likes; and Aunt Jane docs all sorts of 
 charities and worries, and sets everybody to rights," 
 said Dolly, in a very grown-up voice, speaking partly 
 from her own observation, and partly repeating what 
 she had caught from her elders. 
 
 " Oh yes, I know her," said Maude. " She asked 
 me questions about all I did, and she did bother 
 mamma so about a maid she recommended that we 
 are never going to take another from her." 
 
 " Aunt Phyllis comes between them, I believe; but 
 she has married a sailor captain and gone to settle in
 
 t.J WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME ? 11 
 
 New Zealand, and I have not seen her since I was a 
 very little girl. Then there's Aunt Emily, who is a 
 very great swell indeed. Her husband was a canon, 
 Lord Henry Grey ; but he is dead, and she lives at 
 Brighton, a regular fat, comfortable down-pillow of a 
 woman, who isn't bad to lunch with, only she sends one 
 out to the Parade with her maid, as if one was a baby. 
 Mother used to laugh at her. And I think there was 
 an older one who went to India and died long ago." 
 
 " I have seen your two uncles. There's Major 
 Mohun. Oh ! he is fun ! " 
 
 " Yes, dear old Uncle Eedgie ! I wish he was not 
 in Ireland. He will be so sorry to miss seeing father 
 off, but he can't get leave. And there was a clergy- 
 man who is dead, and father grieved for very much. 
 I think he did something to make them all nicer to 
 mother, for it was just after that we went to stay at 
 Beechcroft with Uncle William. You know him, and 
 how mother used to call him the very model of a 
 country squire ; and I like his wife, Aunt Alethea. 
 Only it is very pokey and slow down there, and they 
 are always after flannel petticoats and soup kitchens, 
 and all the old fads that are exploded. I should get 
 awfully tired of it before a year was out, only I should 
 not be teased with strange children, and there would 
 be no one to be jealous of me." 
 
 " Can't you get your father to change and send 
 you there ? " 
 
 "Not a chance. You see Aunt Lilias has offered, 
 and they haven't, and I must go on with my education.
 
 12 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 I hope, though I shall have no advantages, I shall 
 still he able to go up for the Cambridge examination, 
 if Aunt Lilias has not prejudices, as I dare say she 
 has, since of course none of her own will be able to 
 try." 
 
 " You'll come up to us for the examination, Dolly 
 dear, and we shall do it together, and that will be 
 
 nice 
 
 ! " 
 
 " If they will let me ; but I don't expect to be 
 allowed to do anything that I wish. Only perhaps 
 father may be come home by that time." 
 
 "Is it three years?" 
 
 "Yes. It is a terrible time, isn't it? However, 
 when I'm seventeen perhaps he will talk to me, and I 
 can really keep house." 
 
 " And then you'll come back here ? " 
 
 "Do you know, Maudie — listen — I've another uncle, 
 belonging to mother." 
 
 " Oh, Dolly ! I thought she had no one ! " 
 
 " He told me he was my Uncle Alfred once when he 
 met me in the park with Fraulein, and gave me a note 
 for mother. He is called Mr. Flinders." 
 
 "But I thought your mother was daughter to 
 Professor Hay?" 
 
 "But this is a half-brother ; my grandmother was 
 married before. Uncle Alfred has an immense light 
 beard, and I think he is very poor. He came once or 
 twice to see mother, and they always sent me out of 
 the room ; but I am sure she gave him money — -not 
 father's housekeeping money, but what she got for
 
 i.] WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME ? 13 
 
 herself by writing. Once I heard father go out of the 
 house, saying, ' Well, it's your own to do as you please 
 with.' And then mother went to her room, and 1 
 know she cried. It was the only time that ever 
 mother cried ! " And as Maude listened, much im- 
 pressed — "Once when she had got eleven pounds, and 
 we were going to have bought father such a binocular 
 for a secret as a birthday present, Mr. Flinders came, 
 and she gave him ten of it, and we could only bivy 
 just a few slides for father. And she told me she was 
 grieved, but she could not help it, and it would be time 
 for me to understand when I was older." 
 
 " I don't think this Uncle Alfred can be nice," said 
 Maude. 
 
 " 'Tis quite disgusting if he kisses me," said Dolly ; 
 " but you see he is poor, and all the Mohuns are stuck 
 up, except father, and they wanted mother to despise 
 him, and not help him. And you see, she stuck to 
 him. I don't like him much ; but you see nobody 
 ever was like her ! Oh, Maude, if she wasn't dead ! " 
 
 And poor Dolores cried as she had not done even at 
 the time of the accident, or in the terrible week that 
 followed, or at the desolate home coming.
 
 14 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE MERRIFIELDS. 
 
 The cool twilight of a long sunny summer's day was 
 freshening the pleasant garden of a country house, and 
 three peeple were walking slowly along a garden path 
 enjoying the contrast with the heat, glare, and noise 
 of the day. The central one was a tall, slender lady, 
 with a light shawl hung round her shoulders. On 
 one side was a youth who had begun to overtop her, 
 on the other a girl of shorter and sturdier mould, who 
 only reached up to her shoulder. 
 
 " So she is coming ! " the girl said. 
 
 "Yes, Uncle Maurice has answered my letter very 
 kindly." 
 
 "I should think he would be very much obliged," 
 observed the boy. 
 
 "Please, mamma, do tell us all about it," said the 
 girl. "You know I stopped directly when you made 
 me a sign not to go on asking questions before the 
 little ones. And you said you should have to make 
 us your friends while papa and the grown-ups are 
 away." 
 
 " Well, Gillian, I know you can be discreet when
 
 U.] THE MERKIFIELDS. 15 
 
 you are warned, and perhaps it is best that you 
 should know how things stand. Do you remember 
 anything about it, Hal ? " 
 
 " Only a general perception that there were tempests 
 in the higher regions, but I think that was more from 
 hearing Alley and Phyl talk than from my native 
 sagacity." 
 
 " So I should suppose, since you were only six years 
 old, at the utmost." 
 
 "But Uncle Maurice always was under a cloud, 
 wasn't he, especially at Beechcroft, where I never saw 
 him or his wife in the holidays except once, when I 
 believe she was not at all liked, and was thought to be 
 very proud, and stuck-up, and pretentious." 
 
 "But was she just nobody? not a lady?" cried 
 Gillian. " Aunt Emily always called her, ' Poor 
 thing.' " 
 
 "Perhaps she did the same by Aunt Emily," re- 
 turned Hal. 
 
 " And I am sure I have heard Aunt Ada say that 
 she wasn't a lady ; and Aunt Jane that she had all 
 sorts of discreditable connections." 
 
 " Come now, Gill, if you chatter so, how is mamma 
 to get a word in between ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid we have all been hard on her, poor 
 thing ! " 
 
 " There now, mamma has done it, just like Aunt 
 Emily ! " 
 
 " Anybody would be poor who got killed in a 
 glacier ! "
 
 16 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " No, but one doesn't say poor when people are — 
 nice." 
 
 " When I said poor," now put in Lady Merrifield, 
 " it was not so much that I was thinking of her death 
 as of her haying come into a family where nobody 
 welcomed her, and I really do not suppose it was her 
 fault." 
 
 " Moreover, she seemed to do very well without a 
 welcome," added Hal. 
 
 " Who is interrupting now ? " cried Gillian. " But 
 was she a lady ? " 
 
 "I never saw her, you know," said the mother: 
 " but from all I ever heard of her, I should think she 
 was, and cleverer and more highly educated than any 
 of us." 
 
 " Yes," said Hal, "that was the kind of pretension 
 that exasperated them all at Beechcroft, especially 
 Uncle William." 
 
 "I wonder if Dolores will have it!" said Gillian. 
 " I suppose she will know much more than we do," 
 
 " Probably, being the only child of such parents, 
 and with every advantage London can give. Maurice 
 was always much the cleverest of us all, and with a 
 very strong mechanical and scientific turn, so that 1 
 now think it might have been better to have let him 
 follow his bent. But when we were young there was 
 a good deal of mistrust of anything outside the beaten 
 tracks of gentlemanlike professions, and my dear old 
 father did not like what he heard of the course of 
 study for those lines. Things were not as they are
 
 ii.] THE MERRIFIELDS. 17 
 
 now. So Maurice went to Cambridge, and was fifth 
 wrangler of his year, and then had to go to the bar. 
 It somehow always gave him a thwarted, injured 
 feeling of working against the grain, and he cultivated 
 all these scientific pursuits to the utmost, getting 
 more and more into opinions and society that dis- 
 tressed grandpapa and Uncle William. So he fell in 
 with Mr. Hay, a professor at a German university. I 
 can hear William's tone of utter contempt and disgust. 
 I believe this poor man was exceedingly learned, and 
 had made some remarkable discoveries, but he was 
 very poor, and lived in lodgings at Bonn with his 
 daughter in the small way people are content to do 
 in Germany. As to his opinions, we all took it for 
 granted that he was a freethinker; but I can't tell 
 how that might be. Maurice lodged in the same 
 house one year when he went to learn German and 
 attend lectures, and he went back again every long 
 vacation. At last came your dear grandfather's 
 death. Maurice hurried away from Beechcroffc im- 
 mediately after the funeral, and the next thing that 
 was heard of him was that he had married Miss Hay. 
 It was no wonder that your Uncle William was 
 bitterly hurt and offended at the apparent disrespect 
 to our father, and would make no move towards 
 Maurice." 
 
 "It was when we were at the Cape, wasn't it?" 
 asked Hal. 
 
 " Yes, the year Gillian was born. Well, your dear 
 Uncle Claude went to see Maurice in London, and 
 
 VOL. I. n.
 
 18 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 found there was much excuse. Maurice had learnt 
 that the old professor was dying, and his daughter 
 had nothing, and would have had to be a governess, 
 so that Maurice had married her in haste in order to 
 be able to help them." 
 
 " Then it really was very kind and noble in him ! " 
 exclaimed Gillian. 
 
 " And I believe every one would have felt it so; but 
 for his unfortunately reserved way of concealing the 
 extent of the acquaintance, and showing that he 
 would not be interfered with. Claude did his best 
 to close the breach, but there had been something to 
 forgive on both sides, and perhaps she was prouder 
 than the Mohuns themselves. Oh ! my dears, I hope 
 you will never have a family quarrel among you ! It 
 is so sad to look back upon a change after the happy 
 years when we were all together, and were laughing 
 and making fun of one another ! " 
 
 " But you were quite out of it, mamma." 
 
 " So I was in a way, but I knew nothing of the 
 justification till too late for any advances from us to 
 take much effect. I am four years older than 
 Maurice, we had never been a pair, and had never 
 corresponded. And when I wrote to him and to his 
 wife, I only received stiff, formal answers. They were 
 abroad when we were in London on coming home, 
 and they would not come to see us at Belfast, so that 
 I could never make acquaintance with her; but I 
 believe she was an excellent wife, suiting him admir- 
 ably in every way, and I expect to find this little
 
 n.] THE MERKIFIELDS. 19 
 
 daughter of theirs very well brought up, and much 
 forwarder than honest old Mysie." 
 
 "Mysie is in perfect raptures at the notion of 
 having a cousin here exactly of her own age," said 
 Gillian. "What she would wish is that the two 
 should be so much alike as to be taken for twins. I 
 have been trying to remember Dolores on that dread- 
 ful Sunday at the hotel, when Uncle Maurice came 
 to see us, just when papa was setting off for Bombay, 
 but it all seems confusion. I can think of nothing 
 but a little black, shy figure. I remember Phyllis 
 telling me that she thought I ought to do something 
 to entertain her, but I could not think of a word to 
 say to her." 
 
 "For which perhaps she was thankful," said her 
 brother. 
 
 " I am not sure. You are all too apt, when you are 
 shy, to console yourself with fancying that you are 
 doing as you would be done by. It might have 
 worried her then perhaps, but it would have made 
 it easier for her to begin among us now ! I am very 
 glad her father consents to my having her ! I do 
 hope we may make her happy." 
 
 "Happy!" said Gillian. "Anybody must be 
 happy with such a number to play with, and with you 
 to mother her, mamma." 
 
 "I am afraid she will not feel me much like her 
 own mother, poor child ! But it will not be for want 
 of the will. When I look back now I feel sorry for 
 myself for the early loss of my mother, for though wo
 
 20 THE TWO SIDES OP THE SHIELD. [ciiap. 
 
 were all merry enough as children and young people, 
 there always seems to have heen a lack of something- 
 fostering and repressing. There was a kind of deso- 
 lateness in our life, though we did not understand it 
 at the time. I am thankful you have not known it, 
 my dears." There was a strange rush of tears nearly 
 choking her voice, and she shook them away with a 
 sort of laugh. " That I should cry for that at this 
 time of day! " 
 
 Gillian raised her face for a kiss, and even Harry 
 did the same. Their hearts were very full, as 
 the perception swept over them in one flash what 
 their lives would have been without mamma. It 
 seemed like the solid earth giving way under their 
 feet! 
 
 "I am very sorry for poor Dolores," said Gillian 
 presently. "It seems as if we could never be kind 
 enough to her." 
 
 "Yes. Indeed I hope we may do something to- 
 wards supplying her with a real home, wandering- 
 sprites as we have been," said the mother. 
 
 "But we have carried our home with us," said Hal. 
 " It will be home when papa comes back, and these 
 five years are over ! " said Lady Merrifield. 
 
 "What a name it is ! Dolores! It is as bad as 
 Peter Grievous ! How did she get it ? " grumbled 
 Harry. 
 
 " That I cannot tell, but I think we must call her 
 Dora or Dolly, as I fancy your Aunt Jane told me 
 she was called at home. I hope Wilfred will not get
 
 il] THE MERRIFIELDS. 21 
 
 hold of it and tease her about it. You must defend 
 her from that." 
 
 "If we can," said Gillian ; " but Wilfred is rather 
 an imp." 
 
 "Yes," said Harry. "I found Primrose reduced 
 to the verge of distraction yesterday because ' Willie 
 would call her Leg of Mutton.' " 
 
 " I hope you boxed his ears ! " cried Gillian. 
 
 ' ' I did give it to him well," said Hal, laughing. 
 
 "Thank yon," said his mother. "A big brother 
 is more effective in such cases than any one else can 
 be. Wilfred is the only one of you all who ever 
 seemed to take pleasure in causing pain — and I hardly 
 know how to meet the propensity." 
 
 " He is the only one who is not quite certain to be 
 nice with Dolores," said Gillian. 
 
 "And I really don't quite see how to manage," 
 said the mother. "If we show him our anxiety to 
 shield her, it is very likely to direct his attention that 
 way." 
 
 " She must take her chance," said Hal, " and if 
 she is any way rational, she can soon put a stop 
 to it." 
 
 " But, oh dear ! I wish he could go to school," 
 said Gillian. 
 
 "So do I, my dear," returned her mother; "but 
 you know the doctors say we must not risk it for 
 another year, and I can only hope that as he grows 
 stronger, he may become more manly. Meantime 
 we must be patient with him, and Hal can help
 
 22 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 more than an}- one else. There— what's that 
 striking ? " 
 
 " Three quarters." 
 
 "Then we must make haste in, or we shall not 
 have finished supper before ten." 
 
 Lilias Mohun had married a soldier, and after 
 many wanderings through military stations, the 
 health and education of a large proportion of her 
 family had necessitated her remaining at home with 
 them, while her husband held a command in India, 
 taking out with him the two grown-up daughters 
 and the second son, who was on his staff. She was 
 established in a large house not far from a country 
 town, for the convenience of daily governess, tutor, 
 and masters. She herself had grown up on the old 
 system which made education depend more on the 
 family than on the governess, and she preferred 
 honestly the company and training of her children 
 to going into society in her husband's absence. 
 Therefore she arranged her habits with a view to 
 being constantly with them, and though exchanging 
 calls, and occasionally accepting invitations in the 
 neighbourhood, it was an understood thing that she 
 went out very little. The chief exceptions were when 
 her eldest son, Harry, was at home from Oxford. He 
 was devotedly fond of her, and all the more pleased 
 and proud to take her about with him because it had 
 not always been possible that his holidays in his 
 school life should be spent at home, and thus the 
 privilege was doubly prized.
 
 ii.] THE MEERIFIELDS. 23 
 
 The two sisters above and one brother below him 
 were in India with their father, and Gillian was not 
 yet out of the schoolroom, though this did not cut 
 her off from being her mother's prime companion. 
 Then followed a schoolboy at Wellington, named 
 Jasper, two more girls, a brace of boys, and the 
 five-year-old baby of the establishment — sufficient 
 reasons to detain Lady Merrifield in England after 
 more than twenty years of travels as a soldier's wife, 
 so that scarcely three of her children had the same 
 birthplace. She had been able to see very little of 
 her English relations, being much tied by the number 
 of her children while all were very young, and the 
 expense of journeys ; but she was now within easy 
 reach of her two unmarried sisters, and after the 
 Cape, Gibraltar, Malta, and Dublin, the homes of 
 her eldest sister, and of her eldest brother did not 
 seem very far off. 
 
 Indeed Beechcroft, the home of her childhood, had 
 always been the headquarters of herself and her 
 children on their rare visits to England. Her elder 
 boys had been sure of a welcome there in the holidays, 
 and loved it scarcely less than she did herself ; and 
 when looking for her present abode, the whole family 
 had stayed there for three months. Her brother 
 Maurice, however, she had scarcely seen, and she 
 had been much pained at being included in his per- 
 sistent avoidance of the whole family, who felt that 
 he resented their displeasure at his marriage even 
 more since his wife's death than he had done during
 
 24 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 lier lifetime, as if he felt doubly bound, for her sake, 
 not to forgive and forget. At least so said some of 
 the family, while others hoped that his distaste to 
 all intercourse with them only arose from the apathy 
 succeeding a great blow.
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 25 
 
 CHAPTEB III. 
 
 GOOD-BYE. 
 
 A passage was offered to Mr. Mohun in a Queen's 
 ship, and this hurried the preparations so much that 
 to Dolores it appeared that there was nothing but 
 bustle and confusion, from the day of her conversa- 
 tion with Maude, until she found herself in the rail- 
 way carriage returning from Plymouth with her 
 eldest uncle. Her father had intended to take her 
 himself to Silverfold ; but detentions at the office in 
 London, and then a telegram from Plymouth, had 
 disconcerted his plans, and when he found that his 
 eldest brother would come and meet him at the last, 
 he was glad to yield to his little daughter's earnest 
 desire to be with him as long as possible. 
 
 Shy and reserved as both were, and almost in- 
 capable of finding expression for their feelings, they 
 still clung closely together, though the only tears the 
 girl was seen to shed came in church on the last 
 Sunday evening, blinding and choking, and she could 
 barely restrain her sobs. Her father would have 
 taken her out, but she resisted, and leant against
 
 26 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 him, while he put his arm round her. After this, 
 whenever it was possible, she crept up to him, and 
 he held her close. 
 
 There had been no further discussion on her home. 
 Lady Merrifield had written kindly to her, as well 
 as to her father, but that was small consolation to 
 one so well instructed by story books in the hypocrisy 
 of aunts until fathers were at a distance. And her 
 father was so manifestly gratified by the letter, that 
 it would be of no use to say a word to him now. 
 Her fate was determined, and, as she heroically told 
 Maude in their last interview, she was determined to 
 make the best of it. She would endure the unjust 
 aunt, and jealous, silly cousins, and be so clever, and 
 wise, and superior, that she would force them to 
 admire and respect her, and by-and-by follow her 
 example, and be good and sensible, so that when 
 father came home, he would find them acknowledging 
 that they owed everything to her ; she had saved two 
 or three of their lives, nursed half of them when the 
 other half were helpless, fainting, and hysterical, and, 
 in short, been the Providence of the household. 
 Then father would look at her, and say, "My Mary 
 again ! " and he would take her home, and talk to 
 her with the free confidence he had shown her mother, 
 and would be comforted. 
 
 This was the hope that had carried her through 
 the last parting, when she went on board with her 
 uncle and saw her father's cabin, and looked with a 
 dull kind of entertainment at all the curious arrange-
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 27 
 
 merits of the big ship. It seemed more like sight-seeing 
 than good-bye, when at last they were sent on shore, 
 and hurried up to the station just in time for the train. 
 
 Uncle William was a very unapproachable person. 
 He did not profess to understand little girls. He 
 looked at Dolores rather anxiously, afraid, perhaps, 
 that she was crying, and put her into the carriage, 
 then rushed out and brought back a handful of news- 
 papers, giving her the Graphic, and hiding himself 
 in the Times. 
 
 She felt too dull and stunned to read, or to look at 
 the pictures, though she held the paper in her hands, 
 and she gazed out dreamily at the Torrs and rocks 
 and woody ravines of Dartmoor as they flew past her, 
 the leaves and ferns all golden brown with autumn 
 colouring. She had had little sleep that night ; her 
 little legs had all the morning been keeping up with 
 the two men's hasty steps, and though an excellent 
 meal had been set before her in the ship, she had 
 not been able to swallow much, and she was a good 
 deal worn out. So when at last they reached Exeter, 
 and finding there would be two hours to wait, her 
 uncle asked whether she would come down into the 
 town with him and see the Cathedral, she much 
 preferred to stay where she was. He put her under 
 the care of the woman in the waiting-room, who gave 
 her some tea, took off her hat, and made her lie down 
 on a couch, where she slept quite sound for more than 
 an hour, until she was roused by some ladies coming 
 in with a crying baby.
 
 28 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 It was, she thought, nearly time to go on, for the 
 gas was being lighted. She put on her hat, and 
 went out to look for her uncle on the platform, so 
 as to get into a better light to see the face of her 
 mother's little Swiss watch, which her father had 
 just made over to her. She had just made out that 
 there was not more than a quarter of an hour to 
 spare, when she heard an exclamation. 
 
 "By Jove! if that ain't Mary's little girl!" and, 
 looking up she saw Mr. Flinders' huge, bushy, light- 
 coloured beard. " Is your father here ? " he asked. 
 
 " No ; he sailed this afternoon." 
 
 " Always my luck ! Ticket wasted ! Sailed — 
 really?" 
 
 " Oh yes. We did not come back till the ship was 
 out of harbour." 
 
 He muttered some exclamation, and asked — 
 
 " Whom are you with ? " 
 
 " Uncle William. Mr. Mohun — my eldest uncle. 
 He will be back directly." 
 
 Mr. Flinders whistled a note of discontent. 
 
 "Going to rusticate with him, poor little mite?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " No. I'm to live with my Aunt Lilias — Lady 
 Merrifield." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " At Silverfold Grange, near Silverfold." 
 
 "Well, you'll get among the swells. They'll make 
 you cut all your poor mother's connections. So there's 
 an end of it. She was a good creature — she was ! "
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 29 
 
 "I'll never forget any one tlmt belongs to her," 
 said Dolores. " Oh, there's Uncle William ! " as on 
 the top of the stairs she spied the welcome sight of 
 his grey locks and burly figure. Before he had 
 descended, her other uncle had vanished, and she 
 fancied she had heard something about, " Mum about 
 our meeting. Ta ta ! " 
 
 Uncle William's eyes being less sharp than hers, 
 he was on his way to the waiting-room before she 
 joined him, and as he had not seen her encounter, 
 she would not tell him. They were settled in the 
 carriage again, and she was tolerably refreshed. Mr. 
 Mohun fell asleep, and she, after reading by the lamp- 
 light as long as she could find anything to read, gazed 
 at the odd reflections in the windows till she, too, 
 nodded and dozed, half waking at every station. 
 
 At last, she was aware of a stop in earnest, voices, 
 and being called. There was her uncle saying, " Well, 
 Hal, here we are ! " and she was lifted out and set on 
 the platform, with gas all round. Her uncle was say- 
 ing, "We didn't get away in time for the express," 
 and a young man was answering, "We'd better put 
 Dolly into the waggonette at once. Then I'll see to 
 the luggage." 
 
 Very like a parcel, so stiff were her legs, she was 
 bundled into the dark cavern of a closed waggonette, 
 and, after a little lumbering, her uncle and the young 
 man got in after her, saying something about eleven 
 o'clock. 
 
 She was more awake now, and knew that they were
 
 30 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap, 
 
 driving through lighted streets, and then, after an 
 interval, turned into darkness, upon gravel, and 
 stopped at last before a door full of light, with figures 
 standing up dark in it. She heard a " Well, William !" 
 " Well Lily, here we are at last ! " Then there were 
 arms embracing her, and a kiss on each cheek, as a 
 soft voice said, "My poor little girl! They wanted 
 to sit up for you, but it was too late, and I dare say 
 you bad rather be quiet." 
 
 She was led into a lamp-lit room, which dazzled 
 her. It was spread with food, but she was too much 
 tired to eat, and her aunt saw how it was, and telling 
 Harry to take care of his uncle, she took the hand — 
 though it did not close on hers — and, climbing up 
 what seemed to Dolores an endless number of stairs, 
 she said — 
 
 "You are up high, my dear; but I thought you 
 would like a room to yourself." 
 
 " Poked away in an attic," was Dolores's dreamy 
 thought ; while her aunt added, to a tall, thin woman, 
 who came out with a lamp in her hand — 
 
 " She is so tired that she had better go to bed 
 directly, Mrs. Halfpenny. You will make her com- 
 fortable, and don't let her be disturbed in the 
 morning till she has had her sleep out." 
 
 Dolly found herself undressed, without many words, 
 till it came to — "Your prayers, Miss Dora. I am 
 sure you've need not to miss them." 
 
 She did not like to be told, besides, poor child, 
 prayers were not much more than a form to her. She
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 31 
 
 did not contest the point, but knelt down and muttered 
 something, then laid her weary head on the pillow, 
 was tucked up by Mrs. Halfpenny, and left in the 
 dark. It was a dreary half sleep into which she fell. 
 The noise of the train seemed to be still in her ears, 
 and at the same time she was always being driven 
 up — up — up endless stairs, by tall, cruel aunts ; or 
 they were shutting her up to do all their children's 
 work, and keeping away father's letters from her. Then 
 she awoke and told herself it was a dream, but she 
 missed the noises of the street, and the patch of light 
 on the wall from the gas lamps, and recollected that 
 father was gone, and she was really in the power of 
 one of these cruel aunts; and she felt like screaming, 
 only then she might have been heard ; and a great 
 horrid clock went on making a noise like a church 
 bell, and striking so many odd quarters that there 
 was no guessing when morning was coming. And 
 after all, why should she wish it to come ? Oh, if 
 she could but sleep the three years while father was 
 away ! 
 
 At last, however, she fell into a really calm sleep, 
 and when she awoke, the room was full of light, but 
 her watch had stopped ; she had been too much tired 
 to remember to wind it ; and she lay a little while 
 hearing sounds that made it clear that the world was 
 astir, and she could see that preparations had been 
 made for her getting up. 
 
 " They shan't begin by scolding me for being late," 
 she thought, and she began her toilette.
 
 32 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Just as she came to her hair, the old nurse knocked 
 and asked whether she wanted help. 
 
 " Thank you, I've been used to dress myself," said 
 Dolores, rather proudly. 
 
 " I'll help you now, missy, for prayers are over, and 
 they are all gone to breakfast, only my lady said you 
 were not to be disturbed, and Miss Mysie will be up 
 presently again to bring you down." 
 
 She spoke low, and in an accent that Dolores after- 
 wards learnt was Scotch ; and she was a tall, thin, 
 bony woman, with sandy hair, who looked as if she 
 had never been young. She brushed and plaited the 
 dark hair in a mariner that seemed to the owner more 
 wearisome and less tender than Caroline's fashion; 
 and did not talk more than to inquire into the fashion 
 of wearing it, and to say that Miss Mohun's boxes had 
 been sent from London, demanding the keys that they 
 might be unpacked. 
 
 " I can do that myself," said Dolores, who did not 
 like any stranger to meddle with her things. 
 
 " Ye could tak them oot, nae doubt, but I must sort 
 them. It's my lady's orders," said Mrs. Halfpenny, 
 with all the determination of the sergeant, her hus- 
 band, and Dolores, with a sense of despair, and a sort 
 of expectation that she should be deprived of all her 
 treasures on one plea or another, gave up the keys. 
 
 Mrs. Halfpenny then observed that the frock which 
 had been worn for the last two days on the railway, 
 and evening and morning, needed a better brushing 
 and setting to rights than she had had time to give
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 33 
 
 it. She had better take out another. Which box 
 were her frocks in ? 
 
 Dolores expected her heartless relations to insist on 
 her leaving off her mourning, and she knew she ought 
 to struggle and shed tears over it; but, to tell the 
 truth, she was a good deal tired of her hot and fusty 
 black; and when she had followed Mrs. Halfpenny 
 into a passage where the boxes stood uncorded ; and 
 the first dress that came to light was a pretty fresh- 
 looking holland that had been sent home just before 
 the accident, she exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh, let me put that on." 
 
 " Bless me, miss, it has blue bread, and you in 
 mourning for your poor mamma ! " 
 
 Dolores stood abashed, but a grey alpaca, which she 
 had always much disliked, came out next, and Mrs. 
 Halfpenny decided that with her black ribbons that 
 would do, though it turned out to be rather shockingly 
 short, and to show a great display of black legs ; but 
 as the box containing the clothes in present wear had 
 not come to hand, this must stand for the present ; 
 and besides, a voice was heard, saying, "Is Dora 
 ready?" and a young person darted up, put her 
 arms round her neck, and kissed her before she knew 
 what she was about. " Mamma said I should come 
 because I am just your age, thirteen and a half," she 
 said. " I'm Mysie, though my proper name is Maria 
 Millicent." 
 
 Dolores looked her over. She was a good deal 
 taller than herself, and had rich-looking shining 
 
 vol. i. D
 
 34 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 brown hair, dark brown eyes full of merriment, and 
 a bright rosy colour, and she danced on her active 
 feet as if she were full of perpetual life. " All happy 
 and not caring," thought Dolores. 
 
 " Now don't fash Miss Mohun with your tricks. 
 She has stood like a lamb," said Mrs. Halfpenny 
 reprovingly. "There, we'll not keep her to find an 
 apron." 
 
 " I don't wear pinafores," said Mysie, " but I don't 
 mind pretty aprons like this. " Why, my sisters had 
 them for tennis, before they went out to India. Come 
 along, Dora," grasping her hand. 
 
 "My name isn't Dora," said the new-comer, as 
 they went down the passage. 
 
 "No," said Mysie, in a low voice; "but mamma 
 told Gill — that's Gillian, and me, that we had better 
 not tell anybody, because if the boys heard they 
 might tease you so about it ; for Wilfred is a tease, 
 and there's no stopping him when mamma isn't 
 there. So she said she would call you Dora, or Dolly, 
 whichever you liked, and 3*011 are not a bit like a 
 Dolly." 
 
 "They always called me Dolly," said Dolores; 
 " and if I am not to have my name, I like that best ; 
 but I had rather have my proper name." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said Mysie ; "it is more out of the 
 way, only it is very long." 
 
 By this time they had descended a long narrow 
 flight of uncarpeted stairs, " the back ones," as Mysie 
 explained, and had reached a slippery oak hall with
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 35 
 
 high-backed chairs, and all the odds and ends of a 
 family — garden hats, waterproofs, goloshes, bats, 
 rackets, umbrellas, etc., ranged round, and a great 
 white cockatoo upon a stand, who observed — "Mysie, 
 Cockie wants his breakfast," as they went by towards 
 the door, whence proceeded a hubbub of voices and 
 a clatter of knives and jingle of teaspoons and cups, 
 a room that as Mysie threw open the door seemed 
 a blaze of sunshine, pouring in at the large window, 
 and reflected in the glass and silver. Yes, and in the 
 bright eyes and glossy hair of the party who sat 
 round the breakfast-table, further brightened by the 
 fire, pleasant in the early autumn. 
 
 Eyes, as it seemed to Dolores, eyes without 
 number were levelled on her, as Mysie led her in, 
 saying— 
 
 "Here's a place by mamma; she kept it for you, 
 between her and Uncle William/' 
 
 " No, don't all jump up at once and rush at her," 
 said Lady Merrifield. " Give her a little time. Here, 
 my dear; " and she held out her hand and drew in 
 the stranger to her, kissing her kindly, and placing 
 her in a chair close to herself, as she presided over 
 the teacups — not at the end, but at the middle of the 
 table — while all that could be desired to eat and drink 
 found its way at once to Dolores, who had arrived 
 at being hungry now, and was glad to have the 
 employment for hands and eyes, instead of feeling 
 herself gazed at. She was not so much occupied, 
 however, as not to perceive that Uncle William's
 
 36 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 voice had a free, merry ring in it, such as she had 
 never heard in his visits to her father, and that there 
 was a great deal of fun and laughter going on over 
 the thin sheets of an Indian letter, which Aunt Lily 
 was reading aloud. 
 
 No one seemed to be attending to anything else, 
 when Dolores ventured to cast a glance around and 
 endeavour to count heads as she sat between her 
 uncle and aunt. Two boys and a girl were opposite. 
 Harry, who had come to meet them last night, was 
 at one end of the table, a tall girl, but still a school- 
 room girl, was at the other, and Mysie had been lost 
 sight of on her own side of the table ; also there was 
 a very tiny girl on a high chair on the other side of 
 her mamma. " Seven," thought Dolores with sinking 
 heart. " Eight oppressors ! " 
 
 They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures. 
 One boy, at the further corner, had a cast in his eye, 
 and was thin and wizen-looking, and when he saw her 
 eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got 
 rid of like a flash of lightning before any one else 
 could see it, but her heart sank all the more for it. 
 He must be "Wilfred, the teaser. 
 
 Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in 
 some kind of soft grey, with a little carnation colour 
 at her throat, and a pretty lace cap on her still rich, 
 abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search 
 could only detect a very few white threads. Her 
 complexion was always of a soft, paly, brunette tint, 
 'and though her cheeks showed signs that she was not
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 37 
 
 young, her dark, soft, long-lashed eyes and sweet- 
 looking lips made her face full of life and freshness ; 
 and the figure and long slender hands had the kind of 
 grace that some people call willowy, but which is 
 perhaps more like the general air of a young birch 
 tree, or, as Hal had once said, "Early pointed archi- 
 tecture reminded him of his mother." 
 
 " How very ridiculous, affected, and fme-ladyish," 
 thought Dolores, whose mother had been a quick, 
 lively little grey-eyed woman, with no turn for dress, 
 and no pretensions to beauty. 
 
 The little one was getting restless, and two of the 
 boys began filliping crumbs at one another. 
 
 "Wilfred! Fergus!" said the mother quite low 
 and gently; but they stopped directly. "We will 
 say grace," she said, lifting the little one down. 
 " Now, Primrose." 
 
 Every one stood up, to Dolores' surprise, a pair of 
 little fat hands were put together, a little clear voice 
 said a few words of thanksgiving perfectly pronounced. 
 
 "You may go, if you like," she said. " Hal, take 
 care of Prim." 
 
 Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who 
 took the hand of little Primrose, a beautiful little 
 maiden with rich chestnut wavy curls. They all 
 paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the 
 girls a little curtsey. Primrose's was as pretty a 
 little " bob " as ever was seen. 
 
 " I am glad you keep that custom up," said Mr. 
 Mohun.
 
 38 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 (t Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it 
 to be the habit among us ; and I find it a great pro- 
 tection against bouncing and rudeness." 
 
 But Dolly's blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, 
 military nonsense. She would never give in to it, if 
 they made her live on bread and water ! 
 
 The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened 
 out their breakfast from politeness to her, had finished 
 when she had, and the pony-chaise came to the door, 
 in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the 
 station. Everybody flocked to the door to bid him 
 good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias stooped down to ask 
 Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite well, 
 Mysie standing anxiously by as if she felt her a great 
 charge. 
 
 " Quite well, quite rested, thank you," the girl 
 answered in her stiff, shy way. 
 
 " There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent 
 comes. • The children generally spend it in feeding 
 the creatures. I am not going to give a holiday, 
 because I think people get more pleasantly acquainted 
 over something, than over nothing, to do, but you 
 need not begin lessons to-day if you had rather settle 
 your thoughts and write your letters." 
 
 "I had rather begin at once," said Dolores, who 
 thought she would now establish her pre-eminence at 
 the cost of any amount of jealousy. 
 
 "Very well, then, when you hear the gong " 
 
 "Mamma," said Mysie solemnly, after long wait- 
 ing, " she says she had rather not be called out of 
 her name."
 
 in.] GOOD-BYE. 39 
 
 " I thought you had been called Dolty, ray dear." 
 '•'Yes, at home," -with a strong emphasis. 
 " Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to 
 keep to your proper name at once. We won't take 
 liberties with it, till you feel as if you could call this 
 home" said Lady Merrifleld, looking as if she would 
 have kissed her niece on the slighest encouragement, 
 but no one ever looked less kissable than Dolores 
 Mohun at that moment. Was it not cruel and 
 hypocritical to talk of this tiresome multitude as ever 
 making home ?
 
 40 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 TURNED IN AMONG THEM. 
 
 " Do you like pets ? " asked Mysie eagerly, as her 
 mother left the two girls together. 
 
 " I never had any," said Dolores. 
 
 " Oh how dreadful ! Why, old Cockie, and Aga and 
 Begum, the two oldest pussies, have been everywhere 
 with us. And, besides, there's Basto, the big Pyrenean 
 dog, and, — oh, here comes little Quiz, mamma's little 
 Maltese Quiz, Quiz." 
 
 Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or 
 cats ; and the little spun-glass looking dog smelt about 
 her. 
 
 "I must go and feed my guinea-pig," said Mysie; 
 "w T on't you come? Here are some overshoes and 
 Poncho." 
 
 Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but 
 it turned out to be a sort of cape, and she discovered 
 that all the cloaks and most of the sticks had names 
 of their own. She was afraid to be left standing on 
 the steps alone lest any amount of animals or boys 
 should fall on her there, so she consented to accom-
 
 iv.] TUKNED IN AMONG THEM. 41 
 
 pany Mysie, who shuffled along in a pair of overshoes 
 vastly too big for her, since she had put her cousin 
 into the well-fitting ones. She chattered all the way. 
 
 " We do like this place so. It is the nicest we have 
 ever been in. All that is wanting is that papa and my 
 sisters should be at home. We hope papa will buy it, 
 and then we shall never go away again." 
 
 It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a 
 homely-looking, roomy, red-brick house, covered with 
 creepers — the Virginian one with its leaves just 
 beginning to be painted. There was a bright sunny 
 garden full of flowers in front, and then a paddock, 
 with cows belonging to a farmer, Mysie said. It was 
 her ambition to have them of their own " when papa 
 came home," when all good things were to happen. 
 Behind there were large stable-yards and offices, too 
 large for Lady Merrineld's one horse and one pony, 
 and thus available for the children's menagerie of 
 rabbits, guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like. On the 
 way Mysie was only too happy to explain the family 
 as she called it, when she had recovered from her 
 astonishment that Dolores, always living in England, 
 could not " count up her cousins." " Why they 
 always had been shown their photographs on a Sunday 
 evening after the Bible pictures, and even little 
 Primrose knew all the likenesses, even of those she 
 had never seen." 
 
 The catalogue of names and ages followed. 
 
 Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, 
 and a sense that one Maude was worth all the eight
 
 42 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 put together with whom she was called on to be 
 familiar. She found herself standing in a court, 
 rather grass-grown, where Gillian, with little Prim- 
 rose by her side, was flinging peas to a number of 
 pigeons, grey, white, and brown, who fluttered round 
 her. Yaletta and Fergus were on the granary steps, 
 throwing meal and sop mixed together to a host of 
 cackling, struggling fowls, who tried to leap over each 
 others' backs. "Wilfred seemed busy at some hutches 
 where some rabbits twitched their noses at cabbage- 
 leaves. Mysie proceeded to minister to some black 
 and rust-coloured guinea-pigs, which she required her 
 cousin to pronounce lovely, but which Dolores thought 
 very ugly, uninteresting, and odorous. 
 
 Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, 
 and cats and kittens parading before people's feet, so 
 that Dolores felt as if she had been turned into a den 
 of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again ventur- 
 ing into the court at "feeding-time." A big bell 
 gathered all the children up together into a race to 
 the house. There was another scurry to change 
 shoes and wash hands, and then Mysie conducted her 
 cousin into a large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the 
 ground floor, with deep windows, and numerous little, 
 solid-looking deal tables. There were Lady Merri- 
 field and a young lady in spectacles, to whom Dolores 
 was presented as " your new pupil," and every one 
 sat down at one of the little tables, on which there 
 were Bibles and Prayer-books. 
 
 Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side
 
 iv.] TURNED IX AMONG THEM. 43 
 
 of her. Dolores found a table ready for her with the 
 books. A passage in the New Testament was given 
 out and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, 
 which was the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady 
 ITemfield gave a short lesson on it, asking questions, 
 and causing references to be found, according to a 
 book of notes she had ready at hand. 
 
 " Just like a charity school," thought Dolores, 
 when she was able to glance at the time-table, and 
 saw that two clays in the week there was Old Testa- 
 ment, two days New, one day Catechism, one day 
 Prayer-book. Only half an hour was thus appro- 
 priated, but to her mind it was an old-fashioned 
 waste of time, and very tiresome. 
 
 Then came a ring at the door-bell. " Mr. Poulter," 
 she heard, and to her amazement, she found that 
 Gillian and Mysie, as well as their brothers, had Latin 
 lessons in the dining-room with the curate. The two 
 girls and Fergus only went to him every other day, 
 Wilfred every day, as Gillian was learning Greek and 
 mathematics. What was Dolores to do ? 
 
 " Have you done any Latin, my dear ? " asked her 
 aunt. 
 
 "Not yet. Father wished to be quite convinced 
 that the professor was a good classical scholar," said 
 Dolores. 
 
 "Very well. We will wait a little," said Aunt 
 Lilias, and Dolores indignantly thought that she was 
 amused. 
 
 Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-
 
 44 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 room, whither her mother followed with Primrose's 
 little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano to Valetta, 
 and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss 
 Vincent examined the new-comer, which she did by 
 giving her some questions to answer in writing, and 
 some French and German to translate and parse also 
 in writing. 
 
 The music was inconvenient to a girl who had 
 always prepared her work alone. She could do the 
 language work easily, but the questions teased her. 
 They seemed to her of no use, and quite out of her 
 beat. No dates, none of the subjects she had specially 
 got up. Why, if Miss Vincent did not know that 
 peoj)le were not to be expected to answer stupid 
 questions about history quite out of their own line, 
 that was her fault. 
 
 She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top 
 of her pen till her aunt came back, and there was a 
 change in occupations all round, resulting in her 
 having to read French aloud, which she knew she did 
 well ; but it was provoking to find that Gillian read 
 quite as well, and knew a word at which she had made 
 a shot, and a wrong one. 
 
 She heard the observation pass between her aunt 
 and the governess, "Languages fair, but she seems 
 to have very little general information." 
 
 General information, indeed ! Just as if she who 
 had lived in London, gone to lectures, and travelled 
 on the Continent, must not know more than these 
 children cast up and clown in a soldier's life ; and as
 
 iv.] TUENED IX AMONG THEM. 45 
 
 if her Fraulein, with all her diplomas, must not be 
 far superior to a mere little daily governess, and a 
 mother ! It was all for the sake of depreciating her. 
 
 At twelve o'clock, to her further indignation, she 
 found there was to be an hour of reading aloud and of 
 needlework — actual plain needlework. The three 
 girls were making under-garments for themselves ; 
 and on Dolores proving to have no work of any sort, 
 her aunt sent Gillian to the drawer, and produced a 
 child's pinafore, which she was desired to hem. 
 Each, however, had a quarter of an hour's reading 
 aloud of history to do in turn, all from one big book, 
 a history of Rome, and there was a map hung up over 
 the black board, where they were in turn to point to 
 the places mentioned. Before Gillian began reading, 
 the date, and something about the former lesson was 
 required to be told by the children, and it came quite 
 readily, Yaletta especially declaring that she did love 
 Pyrrhus, which the others seemed to think very bad 
 taste. 
 
 Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and 
 thought it foolish to study anything that did not tell 
 in a Cambridge examination ; but she supposed they 
 knew no better down there ; and when it came to her 
 turn to read, she mangled the names so, that Val 
 burst out laughing when she spoke of A-pious- 
 Claudius. Lady ]\-Ierrineld hushed this at once, and 
 the girl read in a bewildered manner, and as one 
 affronted. She saw her aunt looking at her piece of 
 hemming, which, to say the truth, would not have
 
 46 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 done credit to Primrose, and the recollection came 
 across her of all the oppressed orphans who had been 
 made household drudges, so that her reading did not 
 become more intelligible. As the clock struck one, a 
 warning gong was heard ; everybody jumped up, the 
 work was folded away, and with the obeisance at the 
 door, Gillian and Yal ran away. 
 
 Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to 
 tidy the room ; and Lady Merrifield said to Dolores — 
 
 " I must teach you how to hold your needle to- 
 morrow, my dear." 
 
 " I hate work," responded Dolores. 
 
 " Val does not like it," said her aunt ; " nor indeed 
 did I at your age ; but one cannot be an independent 
 woman without being able to take care of one's own 
 clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn 
 better than I did. Do you like to take a run with 
 Mysie before dinner ? Or there is the amusing shelf. 
 Books may be taken out after one o'clock, and they 
 must be put back at eight, or they are confiscated for 
 the ensuing day," she added, pointing to a paper 
 below where this sentence was written. 
 
 Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to 
 make friends with the books than with the cousins. 
 There were fewer than she expected, and nothing like 
 so many absolute stories as she was used to reading 
 with Maude Sefton. 
 
 " Those are such grown-up books," she said to 
 Mysie, who came to assist her choice, and pointed to 
 the upper shelves.
 
 iv.] TUKXED IN AMONG THEM. 47 
 
 " Oh, but grown-up books are nicest ! " returned 
 Mysie ; " at least, when they don't begin being stupid 
 and marrying too soon. They must do it at last to 
 get out of the story, and it's nicer than dying, but they 
 can have lots of nice adventures first. But here are 
 the ' Feats on the Fiords ' and the ' Crofton Boys ' and 
 * Water Babies,' and all the volumes of 'Aunt Judy,' 
 if you like the younger sort. Or the dear dear 
 ' Thorn Fortress; ' that's good for young and old." 
 
 " Haven't you any books of your own ? " 
 
 " Oh jes ; this 'Thorn Fortress' is Yal's, and 'A 
 York and a Lancaster Ptose ' is mine, but whenever 
 any one gives us a book, if it is not a weeny little gem 
 like Gill's ' Christian Year,' or my 'Little Pillows,' or 
 VaTs ' Children in the Wood,' we bring it to mother, 
 and if it is nice, we keep it here, for every one to 
 read. If it is just rather silly, and stupid, we may 
 read it once, and then she keeps it ; and if it is very 
 silly indeed, she puts it out of the way." 
 
 Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal. 
 
 " Have you got many books ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I don't mean to have them knocked 
 about by all the boys, nor put out of the way neither." 
 
 "Mamma said we were to be all like sisters," said 
 Mysie, with rather a craving for the new books ; but 
 Dolores tossed up her head and said — 
 
 " We can't be. It's nonsense to say so." 
 
 To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady 
 Merrifield, who was looking at some exercises that 
 Miss Vincent had laid before her.
 
 48 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " Mamma," she said, " is it fair that Dolores should 
 read our books, if she won't give you up hers to look 
 over, and be like ours ? " 
 
 "Mysie," said Lady Merrifield, "you can't expect 
 Dolores to like all oar home plans till she is used to 
 them. No, my dear, you need not be afraid ; you 
 shall keep your books in your own room, and nobody 
 shall meddle with them. I am sure your cousins 
 would not wish to be so unkind as to deprive you of 
 the use of theirs." 
 
 By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take 
 " Tom Brown," it was time for the general flight to 
 prepare for dinner, and she found her room made to 
 look very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her 
 books and little knicknacks had been put out, not 
 quite as she preferred, but still so as to make the 
 place seem like her own. She was pleased enough 
 to be quite gracious to Mysie and Val who came to 
 visit her, and to offer to let them read any of her 
 books ; when they both thanked her and said — 
 
 " If mamma lets us." 
 
 " Oh, then you won't have them," said Dolores ; 
 " I'm not going to let her have my books to take away." 
 
 "You don't think she would take them away, when 
 she said she wouldn't ? " said Mysie, hotly. 
 
 "Why, what would she do if she didn't happen to 
 approve of them ? " 
 
 " Only tell us not to read them." 
 
 " And wouldn't you ? " 
 
 "Why, Dolores!" in such a tone as made her
 
 iv.] TURNED IN AMONG THEM. 41) 
 
 ashamed of her question; and she said, "Well, 
 father never makes any fuss about what I read. He 
 has other things to think of." 
 
 " How do you get books, then ? " 
 
 " I buy them. And Maude Sefton, she's my great 
 friend, has lots given to her, but nobody bothers 
 about reading them. They aren't grown-up books, 
 you know." 
 
 "How stupid," said Val. "You had better read 
 the ' Talisman,' and then you'll see how nice a grown- 
 up book is." 
 
 " The ' Talisman ! ' Why, Maude Sefton's brother 
 had to get it up for his holiday task, and he said it 
 was all rot and bosh." 
 
 " What a horridly stupid boy he must be," returned 
 Mysie. " Why, I remember when Jasper once had 
 the ' Talisman ' to do, and the big ones were so 
 delighted. Mamma read it out, and I was just old 
 enough to listen. I remembered all about Sir Ken- 
 neth and Eoswal." 
 
 " Tom Sefton's not stupid ! " said Dolores, in wrath ; 
 "but — but the book is stupid and out of date! I 
 heard father and the professor say it was gone by." 
 
 Mysie and Valetta looked perfectly astounded, and 
 Dolores pursued her advantage. 
 
 "Of course it is all very well for you that have 
 never lived in London, nor had any advantages." 
 
 " But we have advantages ! " cried Yal. 
 
 " You don't know what advantages are," said 
 Dolores. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " There's the gong," cried Mysie, and down they 
 all plunged into the dining-room, where the family 
 were again collected, with Hal at one end and his 
 mother at the other. 
 
 Dolores was amazed when, at the first pause, after 
 every one was helped, Valetta's voice arose. 
 
 " Mamma, what are advantages ? " 
 
 " Don't you know, Val ? " 
 
 " Dolores says we haven't any. And I said we 
 have. And she says I don't know what advantages 
 are." 
 
 Hal and Gillian were both laughing with all their 
 might. Their mother kept her countenance, and 
 said — 
 
 " I suppose every one has advantages of some sort, 
 and perhaps without knowing them." 
 
 "I'm sure I know," cried Fergus. 
 
 " Well, what are they ? " asked Harry. 
 
 " Having mamma ! " cried the little hoy. 
 
 " Hear, hear ! That's right, Fergy man ! Couldn't 
 be better ! " cried Harry, and there was a general 
 acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie with the 
 fear that her motherless cousin might feel the con- 
 trast, and, though against rules, she whispered — 
 
 " She will make you like one of us." 
 
 " That wasn't what I meant," returned Dolores, a 
 little contemptuously. 
 
 " What did you mean ? " said Mysie. 
 
 " Why, you've no classes, nor lectures, nor masters, 
 and only just a mere daily governess."
 
 iv.] TURNED IN AMONG THEM. 5l 
 
 Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her 
 neighbour, but Mysie demanded — 
 
 "What, do you want to be doing lessons all day 
 long?" 
 
 '" No, but good governesses never are daily ! " 
 
 " That's a pity," said Gillian, turning round on her. 
 ••'Perhaps you don't know that Miss Vincent has a 
 First Class Cambridge Certificate in everything, and 
 is daily, because she likes to live with her mother.'' 
 
 "• I think," added Lady Merrifield, with a smile. 
 " that Dolores has been in the way of seeing more 
 clever people, and getting superior teaching of some 
 kind, but we will do the best we can for her, and try 
 not to let her miss many advantages." 
 
 Dores felt a little abashed, and decidedly angry at 
 being put in the wrong. 
 
 The elders kindly turned away the general attention 
 from her. There was a great deal of merry family 
 tun going on, which was quite like a new language to 
 her. Fergus and Primrose wanted to go out in search 
 of blackberries. Gillian undertook to drive them in the 
 cart, but as the donkey had once or twice refused to 
 cross a little stream of water that traversed the road, 
 the brothers foretold that she would ignominionsly 
 come back again. 
 
 " Gill and water are perilous ! " observed Hal. 
 
 •'•Tack's not here," said Gillian: ••"besides, it is 
 down, not up the hill, and I'm sure I don't want t<> 
 draw a pail of water." 
 
 " No— Sancho will do that." 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF OW***
 
 52 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " The gong will sound and sound, buzz and roar," 
 said Wilfred. " No Gill ! no little ones ! We shall 
 send out and find them stuck fast in the lane, Sancho 
 with his feet spread out wide, Gill with three or four 
 sticks tying broken on the road round her, the kids 
 reduced to eating blackberries like the children in the 
 wood." 
 
 "Don't Fred," said Gillian. "You'll frighten 
 them." 
 
 "Little donkeys ! " said Wilfred. 
 
 " If they were, we shouldn't want Sancho," said Yal. 
 
 It was not a very sublime bit of wit, but there was 
 a great laugh at it all round the table. Yal and 
 Fergus declared they would go too, till they heard 
 that Nurse Halfpenny said she would not let the little 
 ones go out without her to tear their clothes to pieces. 
 
 Eveiw^ one unanimously declared that would be no 
 fun at all, and turned to mamma to beg her to forbid 
 nurse to come out and spoil everything. 
 
 " That's just her view," said mamma, laughing ; 
 " she thinks you spoil everything." 
 
 " Oh, that's clothes ! Spoiling fun is worse." 
 
 " But were you realty going with the old Halfpenny, 
 Gill ? " said Mysie, turning to her. 
 
 " Yes," said Gillian. " You know I can manage 
 her pretty well when it is only the little ones, and 
 they wouldn't have any pleasure otherwise." 
 
 " Oh come, Gill," intreated Fergus, " or nurse will 
 make us sit in the donkey-cart all the time while 
 Lois picks the blackberries ! "
 
 iv.] TURNED IN AMONG THEM. 53 
 
 " Mamina, do tell her not to come," intreated 
 Yaletta, and more of them joined in with her. 
 
 " No, my dears, I don't like to vex her when she 
 thinks she is doing her duty." 
 
 " She wouldn't come if you did, mamma," and there 
 was a general outcry of intreaty that mamma would 
 come with them, and defend them from Mrs. Half- 
 penny, as Fergus, who was rather a formal little 
 fellow, expressed it, and mamma, after a little con- 
 sideration, consented to drive the pony-carriage in 
 that direction, and to announce to Nurse Halfpenny 
 that she herself would take charge of the children. 
 Whereupon there was a whoop and a war-dance of 
 juhilee, quite overwhelming to Dolores, who could not 
 but privately ask Mysie if Nurse Halfpenny was so 
 very cross. 
 
 " Awfully," said Mysie, and Wilfred added — 
 
 " As savage as a bear with a sore head." 
 
 " Like Mrs. Crabtree ? " asked Dolores. 
 
 "Exactly. Jasper called her so when he wanted 
 to lash her up, till at last she got hold of his 
 * Holiday House ' and threw it into the sea, and it 
 was in Malta and we couldn't get another," said 
 Mysie. 
 
 " And haven't you one ? " 
 
 " Yes, Gill and I saved for it ; but mamma only let 
 us have it on condition we made a solemn promise 
 never to tease nurse about it." 
 
 " And does she go at you with that dreadful thing 
 — what's its name — the tawsc ? "
 
 54 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "All ! you'll soon know," said Wilfred. 
 
 " No, no ; nonsense, Fred," said Mysie.. as Dolores' 
 face worked with consternation. " She never hits us, 
 not if we are ever so tiresome. Papa and mamma 
 would not let her." 
 
 " But why do they let her he so dreadful ? Maude's 
 nurse used to he horrid and slap her, and when her 
 mother found it out the woman was sent away 
 directly." 
 
 "Nurse Halfpenny isn't that sort," said Mysie. 
 "Her hushand was papa's colour-sergeant, and he 
 got a sun-stroke and died, and then she came when 
 Gillian was just horn, and so weak and tiny that she 
 would never have lived if nurse hadn't watched her 
 day and night, and so Gillian's her favourite, except 
 the youngest, and she is ever so good, you know. 
 I've heard the ladies, when we were with the dear old 
 111th, telling mamma how they envied her her 
 trustworthy treasure." 
 
 "I'm sure they might have had her at half-price," 
 said Wilfred. " She'd he dear at a farthing ! " 
 
 At that moment Mrs. Halfpenny's voice was heard 
 demanding if it were really her ladyship's pleasure to 
 go out, fatiguing herself to the very death with all 
 the children rampaging ahout her and tearing them- 
 selves to pieces, if not pisoning themselves with all 
 sorts of nasty hemes. 
 
 " Indeed I'll take care of them and hring them hack 
 safe to you," responded her ladyship, very much in 
 the tone of one of her own children making promises.
 
 iv.] TURNED IN AMONG THEM. 55 
 
 "Put them on their brown hollands and they can't 
 come to much harm." 
 
 "Well, if it's your wish, ma'am, my leddy; what 
 must be, must, but I know how it will be — you'll come 
 back tired out, fit to drop, and Miss Yal and Miss 
 Primrose won't have a rag fit to be seen on them. 
 But if it's your will, what must be must, for you're no 
 better than a bairn yourself, general's lady though 
 you be, and G.C.B." 
 
 " No, nurse, you'll be G.C.B. — Grand Commander of 
 the Bath — when we come home," called out Hal, who 
 was leaning on the banister at the bottom, and there 
 was a general laugh, during which Dolly tardily 
 climbed the stairs, so tardily that her aunt, meeting 
 her, asked whether she was still tired, and if she 
 would rather have the afternoon to arrange her room. 
 
 She said " yes," but not "thank you," and went 
 on, relieved that Mysie did not offer to stay and help 
 her, and yet rather offended at being left alone, while 
 all the others went their own way- She heard them 
 pattering and clattering, shouting and calling up and 
 down the passages, and then came a great silence, 
 while they could be seen going down the drive, some 
 on foot, some in the pony-chaise or donkey-cart. 
 
 Her things had all been unpacked and put in 
 order, and her room had a very cheerful window. It 
 was prettily furnished with fresh pink and white 
 dimity, and choice-looking earthenware, but to Lon- 
 don eyes like those of Dolores it seemed very old- 
 fashioned and what she called " poked up." The
 
 06 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 paper was ugly, the chimney-piece was a narrow, 
 painted thing, of the same dull, stone-colour as the 
 door and the window-frame. And then the clear air, 
 the perfect stillness, the ahsence of anything moving 
 in the view from the window gave the city-hred child 
 a sense of dreadful loneliness and dreariness as she 
 sat on the side of her bed, with one foot under her, 
 gazing dolefully round her, and in her head com- 
 posing her own memoirs. 
 
 "Fully occupied with their own plans and amuse- 
 ments, the lonely orphan was left in solitude. Her 
 aunt knew not how her heart ached after the home 
 she had left, hut the machine of the family went its 
 own way and trod her under its wheels." 
 
 This was such a fine sentence that it was almost a 
 comfort, and she thought of writing it to Maude 
 Sefton, hut as she got up to fetch her writing-case 
 from the schoolroom, she saw that her hooks were 
 standing just in the way she did not like, and with all 
 the volumes mixed up together. So she tumhled 
 them all out of the shelves on the floor, and at that 
 moment Mrs. Halfpenny looked into the room. 
 
 " Well, to he sure ! " she exclaimed, " when me and 
 Lois have been working at them books all the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " They were all nohow — as I don't like them," 
 said Dolores. 
 
 " Oh, very well, please yourself then, miss, if that's 
 all the thanks you have in your pocket, you may put 
 them up your own way, for all I care. Only my lady
 
 iv.] TURNED IN AMONG THEM. 57 
 
 will have the young ladies' rooms kept neat and 
 orderly, or they lose marks for it." 
 
 "I don't want any help," said Dolores, crossly, and 
 Mrs. Halfpenny shut the door with a hang. " The 
 menials are insulting me," said Dolores to herself, 
 and a tear came to her eye, while all the time there 
 was a certain mournful satisfaction in heing so entirely 
 the heroine of a book. 
 
 She went to work upon her hooks, at first hotly and 
 sharply, and very carefully putting the tallest in the 
 centre so as to form a gradual ascent with the tops, 
 and not for the world letting a second volume stand 
 before its elder brother, but she soon got tired, took 
 to peeping at one or two parting gifts which she had 
 not yet been able to read, and at last got quite 
 absorbed in the sorrows of a certain Clare, whose 
 golden hair was cut short by her wicked aunt, because 
 it outshone her cousin's sandy locks. There was 
 reason to think that a tress of this same golden hair 
 would lead to her recognition by some grandfather of 
 unknown magnificence, as exactly like that of his 
 long-lost Claribel, and this might result in her 
 assuming splendours that would annihilate the aunt. 
 Things seemed tending to a fracture of the ice under 
 the cruellest cousin of all, and her rescue by Clare, 
 when they would be carried senseless into the great 
 house, and the recognition of Clare and the discom- 
 fiture of her foes would take place. How could 
 Dolores shut the book at such a critical moment ! 
 
 So there she was sitting in the midst of her
 
 58 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 scattered books, when the galloping and scampering 
 began again, and Mysie knocked at the door to tell 
 her there were pears, apples, biscuits, and milk in the 
 dining-room, and that after consuming them, lessons 
 had to be learnt for the next day, and then would 
 follow amusements, evening toilette, seven o'clock tea, 
 and either games or reading aloud till bedtime. As 
 to the books, Mysie stood aghast. 
 
 " I thought nurse and Lois had done them all for 
 you." 
 
 " They did them all wrong, so I took them down." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! "We must put them in, or there'll be a 
 report." 
 
 " A report ! " 
 
 " Yes, Nurse Halfpenny reports us whenever she 
 doesn't find our rooms tidy, and then we get a bad 
 mark. Perhaps mamma wouldn't give you one this 
 first day, but it is best to make sure. Shall I help 
 you, or you won't have time to eat any pears ? " 
 
 Dolores was thankful for help, and the books were 
 scrambled in anyhow on the shelves ; for Mysie's 
 good nature was endangering her share of the after- 
 noon's gouter, though perhaps it consoled her that her 
 curiosity was gratified by a hasty glance at the backs 
 of her cousin's story-books. 
 
 By the time the two girls got down to the dining- 
 table, every one had left the room, and there only 
 remained one doubtful pear, and three baked apples, 
 besides the loaf and the jug of milk. Mysie explained 
 that not being a regular meal, no one was obliged to
 
 iv.] TURNED IX AMONG TUEM. 59 
 
 come punctually to it, or to come at all, but those who 
 came tardily might fare the worse. As to the black- 
 berries, for which Dolores inquired, the girls were 
 going to make jam of them themselves the next day ; 
 but Mysie added, with an effort, she would fetch some, 
 as her cousin had had none in the gathering. 
 
 "Oh no, thank you; I hate blackberries," said 
 Dolores, helping herself to an apple. 
 
 "Do you?" said Mysie, blankly. "We don't. 
 They are such fun. You can't think how delicious 
 the great overhanging clusters are in the lane. Some 
 were up so high that Hal had to stand up in the cart 
 to reach them, and to take Fergus up on his shoulder. 
 We never had such a blackberrying as with mamma 
 and Hal to help us. And only think, a great carriage 
 came by, with some very grand people in it ; we think 
 it was the Dean ; and they looked down the lane and 
 stared, so surprised to. see what great giant could be 
 standing up there. Wilfred had a great mind to call 
 out, ' Fee, faw, fum.' You know nothing makes such 
 a good giant as Fergus standing on Hal's shoulders, 
 and a curtain over them to hide Hal's face. Oh, 
 dear, I wish I hadn't told you ! You would have been 
 a new person to show it to." 
 
 Dolores made very little answer, finished her apple, 
 and followed to the schoolroom, where an irregular 
 verb, some geography, and some dates awaited her. 
 
 Then followed another rush of the populace for the 
 evening meal of the live stock, but in this Dolores was 
 too wary to share. She made her way up to her
 
 CO THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 retreat again, and tried to lose the sense of her 
 troubles and loneliness in a book. Then came the 
 warning bell, and a prodigious scuffling, racing and 
 chasing, accompanied by yells as of terror and roars 
 as of victory, all cut short by the growls of Mrs. Half- 
 penny. Everything then subsided. The world was 
 dressing ; Dolores dressed too, feeling hurt and forlorn 
 at no one's coming to help her, and yet worried when 
 Mysie arrived with orders from Mrs. Halfpenny to 
 come to her to have her sash tied. 
 
 " I think a servant ought to come to me. Caroline 
 always does," said the only daughter with dignity. 
 
 " She can't, for she is putting Primrose to bed. 
 Oh, it's so delicious to see Prim in her bath," said 
 Mysie, with a little skip. "Make haste, or we shall 
 miss her, the darling." 
 
 Dolores did not feel pressed to behold the spectacle, 
 and not being in the habit of dressing without assist- 
 ance, she was tardy, and Mysie fidgeted about and 
 nearly distracted her. Thus, when she reached the 
 nursery, Primrose was already in her little white bed- 
 gown, and was being incited by Yaletta to caper about 
 on her cot, like a little acrobat, as her sisters said, 
 while Mrs. Halfpenny declared that "they were 
 making the child that rampagious, she should not get 
 her to sleep till midnight." 
 
 They would have been turned out much sooner, and 
 Primrose hushed into silence, if nurse's soul had not 
 been horrified by the state of Dolores' hair and the 
 general set of her garments.
 
 iv] TURNED IN AMONG THEM. 61 
 
 " My certie ! " she exclaimed — a dreadful exclama- 
 tion in the eyes of the family, -who knew it implied 
 that in all her experience Mrs. Halfpenny had never 
 known the like ! And taking Dolores by the hand, 
 she led the wrathful and indignant girl back into her 
 bedroom, untied and tied, unbuttoned and buttoned, 
 brushed and combed in spite of the second bell ring- 
 ing, the general scamper, and the sudden apparition 
 of Mysie and Val, whom she bade run away and tell 
 her leddyship that "Miss Mohoonc should come as 
 soon as she was sorted, but she ought to come up 
 early to have her hair looked to, for 'twas shame to 
 see how thae fine London servants sorted a mother- 
 less bairn." 
 
 Dolores felt herself insulted; she turned red all 
 over, with feelings the old Scotchwoman could not 
 understand. She expected to hear the message roared 
 out to the whole assembly round the tea-table, but 
 Mysie had discretion enough to withhold her sister 
 from making it public. 
 
 The tea itself, though partaken of by Lady Merri- 
 rield, seemed an indignity to the young lady accus- 
 tomed to late dinners. After it, the whole family 
 played at " dumb crambo." Dolores was invited to 
 join, and instructed to " do the thing you think it 
 is ; " but she was entirely unused to social games, and 
 thought it only ridiculous and stupid when the word 
 being a rhyme to ite f Fergus gave rather too real a 
 blow to Wilfred, and Gillian answered, " 'Tis not 
 smite ; " Wilfred held out a hand, and was told, " 'Tis
 
 02 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 not right ; " Yal flourished in the air as if holding a 
 string, and was informed that "kite" was wrong; 
 when Hal ran away as if pursued by Fergus by way 
 of flight ; and Mysie performed antics which she was 
 finally obliged to explain were those of a sprite. 
 Dolores could not recollect anything, and only felt 
 annoyed at being made to feel stupid by such non- 
 sense, when Mysie tried to make her a present of a 
 suggestion by pointing to the back of a letter. Neither 
 write nor white would come into her head, though 
 little Fergus signalized himself, just before he was 
 swept off to bed, by seizing a pen and making strokes ! 
 
 After his departure, Lady Merrifield read aloud 
 ••The Old Oak Staircase," which had been kept to 
 begin when Dolores came, Hal taking the book in 
 turn with his mother. 
 
 And so ended Dolores' first day of banishment.
 
 v.j THE FIRST WALK. 63 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE FIRST WALK. 
 
 " What a lot of letters for you, mamma ! " cried 
 Mysie. 
 
 " Papa ! " exclaimed Fergus and Primrose. 
 
 "No, it is not the right day, my dears. But here 
 is a letter from Aunt Ada." 
 
 " Oh ! " in a different tone. 
 
 " She writes for Aunt Jane. They will come down 
 here next Monday because Aunt Jane is wanted to 
 address the girls at the G.F.S. festival on Tuesday." 
 
 " Aunt Jane seems to have taken to public speak- 
 ing," said Harry. " It would be rather a lark to 
 hear her." 
 
 "You may have a chance," said Lady Merrifield, 
 "for here is a note from Mrs. Blackburn to ask if 
 I will be so very kind as to let them have the festival 
 here. They had reckoned upon Tillington Park, 
 where they have always had it before, but they heal- 
 th at all the little Tillingtons have the measles, and 
 they don't think it safe to venture there." 
 
 "It will be great fun!" said Gillian. "We will
 
 64 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 have all sorts of games, only I'm afraid they will 
 be much stupider than the Irish girls." 
 
 " And ever so much stupider than the dear 111th 
 children," sighed Mysie. 
 
 "Aren't they all great big girls?" asked Yaletta, 
 disconsolately. 
 
 " I believe twelve years old is the limit," said her 
 mother. " Twelve-year-old girls have plenty of play 
 in them, Val. Haven't they, Mysie ? Let me see — 
 two hundred and thirty of them." 
 
 " For you to feast ? " asked Harry. 
 
 " Oh, no — that cost comes out of their own funds, 
 Mrs. Blackburn takes care to tell me, and Miss Hacket 
 will find some one in Silverfold who will provide tables 
 and forms and crockery. I must go down and talk to 
 Miss Hacket as soon as lessons are over. Or perhaps 
 it would save time and trouble if I wrote and asked 
 her to come up to luncheon and see the capabilities 
 of the place. Why, what's the matter ? " pausing at 
 the blank looks. 
 
 " The jam, mamma — the blackberry jam ! " cried 
 Yaletta. 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " We can't do it without Gill, and she will have to 
 be after that Miss Constance," explained Yal. 
 
 "Oil! never mind. She won't stay all the after- 
 noon," said Gillian, cheerfully. " Luncheon people 
 don't." 
 
 " Yes, but then there will be lessons to be learnt." 
 
 " Look here, Yal," said Gillian. " if you and Mysie
 
 v.] THE FIRST WALK. 65 
 
 will learn your lessons for to-morrow while I'm bound 
 to Miss Con., I'll do mine some time in the evening, 
 and be free for the jam when she is gone." 
 
 "The dear delicious jam!" cried Yal, springing 
 about upon her chair; and Lady Merrifield further 
 said — 
 
 " I wonder whether Mysie and Dolores would like 
 to take the note down. They could bring back a 
 message by word of mouth." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, mamma ! " cried Mysie. 
 
 " Then I will write the note as soon as we have 
 done breakfast. Don't dawdle, Fergus boy." 
 
 " Mayn't I go ? " demanded Wilfred. 
 
 "No, my dear. It is your morning with Mr. 
 Poulter. And you must take care not to come back 
 later than eleven, Mysie dear ; I cannot have him 
 kept waiting. Dolores, do you like to go ? " 
 
 "Yes, please," said Dolores, partly because it was 
 at any rate gain to escape from that charity-school 
 lesson in the morning, and partly because Yaletta 
 was looking at her in the ardent hope that she would 
 refuse the privilege of the walk, and it therefore be- 
 came valuable ; but there was so little alacrity in her 
 voice that her aunt asked her whether she were quite 
 rested and really liked the walk, which would be only 
 half a mile to the outskirts of the town. 
 
 Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, 
 and replied that she was quite well, and didn't mind. 
 
 So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were 
 sent off to get ready, while Aunt Lilias wrote her noU i 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 GG THE TWO SIDES OP THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 in pencil at the corner of the table, which she never 
 left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their 
 meal; but she had to silence a storm at the "didn't 
 mind " — Gillian even venturing to ask how she could 
 send one to whom it was evidently no pleasure to go. 
 " I think she likes it more than she shows," said the 
 mother, "and she wants air, and will settle to her 
 lessons the better for it. What's that, Val ? " 
 
 "It was my turn, mamma," said Valetta, in an 
 injured voice. 
 
 "It will be your turn next, Val," said her mother, 
 cheerfully. "Dolores comes between you and Mysie, 
 so she must take her place accordingly. And to-day 
 we grant her the privilege of the new-comer." 
 
 Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, 
 while she was going upstairs to put on her hat, the 
 recollection had not occurred to her of one of the 
 victim's of an aunt's cruelty who was always made to 
 run on errands while her favoured cousins were at 
 their studies. Was this the beginning ? Somehow, 
 though her better sense knew this was a foolish fancy, 
 she had a secret pleasure in pitying herself, and 
 posing to herself as a persecuted heroine. And then 
 she was greatly fretted to find the housemaid in her 
 room, looking as if no one else had any business 
 there. What was worse, she could not find her 
 jacket. She pulled out all her drawers with fierce, 
 noisy jerks, and then turned round on the maid, 
 sharply demanding — 
 
 " Who has taken my jacket ? "
 
 v.] THE FIRST WALK. 67 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know, Miss Dollars. You'd best 
 ask Mrs. Halfpenny." 
 
 " If — " but at that moment Mysie ran in, holding 
 the jacket in her hand. "I saw it in the nursery," 
 she said, triumphantly. " Nurse had taken it to mend ! 
 Come along. Where's your hat ? " 
 
 But there was pursuit ; Mrs. Halfpenny was at the 
 door. " Young ladies, you are not going out of the 
 policy in that fashion." 
 
 "Mamma sent us. Mamma wants us to take a 
 note in a hurry. Only to Miss Hacket," pleaded 
 Mysie, as Mrs. Halfpenny laid violent hands on her 
 brown holland jacket, observing — 
 
 " My leddy never bade ye run off mair like a wild 
 worricowthan a general officer's daughter, Miss Mysie. 
 What's that ? Only Miss Hacket, do you say ? You 
 should respeck yourself and them you come of mair 
 than to show yourself to a blind beetle in an unbe- 
 coming way. 'Tis well that there's one in the house 
 that knows what is befitting. Miss Dollars, you stand 
 still ; I must sort your necktie before you go. 'Tis all 
 of a wisp. Miss Mysie, you tell your mamma that I 
 should be fain to know her pleasure about Miss Dollars' 
 frocks. She've scarce got one — coloured or mourning 
 — that don't want altering." 
 
 Mrs. Halfpenny always caused Dolores such extreme 
 astonishment and awe that she obeyed her instantly, 
 but to be turned about and tidied by an authoritative 
 hand was extremely disagreeable to the independent 
 young lady. Caroline had never treated her thus,
 
 68 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 being more willing to permit untidiness than to en- 
 dure her temper. She only durst, after the pair were 
 released, remonstrate with Mysie on being termed 
 Miss Dollars. 
 
 " They can't make out your name," said Mysie. " I 
 tried to teach Lois, but nurse said she had no notion 
 of new-fangled nonsense names." 
 
 "I'm sure Yaletta and Primrose are worse." 
 
 "Ah ! but Yal was born at Malta, and mamma had 
 always loved the Grand Master La Yalette so much, 
 and had written verses about him when she was only 
 sixteen. And Primrose was named after the first 
 primrose mamma had seen for twelve years — the first 
 one Val and I had ever seen." 
 
 " They called me Miss Mohun at home." 
 
 "Yes, but we can't here, because of Aunt Jane." 
 
 All this was chattered forth on the stairs before the 
 two girls reached the dining-room, where Mysie com- 
 mitted the feeding of her pets to Yal, and received the 
 note, with fresh injunctions to come home by eleven, 
 and bring word whether Miss Hacket and Miss Con- 
 stance would both come to luncheon. 
 
 " Oh dear ! " sighed Gillian, and there was a general 
 groan round the table. 
 
 " It can't be helped, my dear." 
 
 " Oh no, I know it can't," said Gillian, resignedly. 
 
 "You see," said Mysie. "Yes, come along, Basto 
 dear. You see Gill has to be — down, Basto, I say ! — 
 a young lady when — Never mind him, Dolores, he 
 won't hurt. When Miss Constance Hacket and — leave
 
 v.] THE FIKST WALK. GO 
 
 her alone, Basto, I say ! — and she is such a goose. 
 Not you, Dolores, but Miss Constance." 
 
 " Oh that dog ! I wish you would not take him." 
 
 " Not take dear old Basto ! Why 'tis such a treat 
 for him to get a walk in the morning — the delight of 
 his jolly old black heart. Isn't he a dear old fellow ? 
 and he never hurt anybody in his life ! It's only 
 setting off ! He will quiet down in a minute ; but I 
 couldn't disappoint him. Could I, my old man ? " 
 
 Never having lived with animals nor entered into 
 their feelings, Dolores could not understand how a 
 dog's pleasure could be preferred to her comfort, and 
 felt a good deal hurt, though Basto's antics subsided 
 as soon as they were past the inner gate shutting in 
 the garden from the paddock, which was let out to a 
 farmer. Mysie, however, ran on as usual with her 
 stream of information — 
 
 " The Miss Hackets were sisters or daughters or 
 something to some old man who used to be clergyman 
 here, and they are all married up but these two, and 
 they've got the dearest little house you ever saw. 
 They had a nephew in the 111th, and so they came 
 and called on us at once. Miss Iiacket is a regular 
 old dear, but we none of us can bear Miss Constance, 
 except that mamma says we ought to be sorry for her 
 because she leads such a confined life. Miss Hacket 
 and Aunt Jane always do go on so about the G.F.S. 
 They both are branch secretaries, you know." 
 
 "I know! Aunt Jane did bother Mrs. Sefton so 
 that she says she will never have another of those
 
 70 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 G.F.S. girls. She says it is a society for inter- 
 ference." 
 
 "Mamma likes it," said Mysie. 
 
 " Oh ! but she is only just come." 
 
 "Yes ; but she always looked after the school chil- 
 dren at Beechcroft before she married, and she and 
 Alethea and Phyllis had the soldiers' children up on 
 Sunday. Alethea taught the little drummer boys, and 
 they were so funny. I wonder who teaches them now.! 
 Gill always goes down to help Miss Hacket with her 
 G.F.S. classes. She has one on Sunday afternoon, 
 and one on Tuesday for sewing, and she likes to have 
 Gill for that because she says she is the only young- 
 lady in the place who can do plain needlework 
 properly." 
 
 " Sewing-machines can work. What's the use of 
 fussing about it ! " 
 
 " They can't mend," said Mysie. " Besides, do you 
 know, in the American war, all the sewing-machines 
 in the Southern States got out of order, and as all the 
 machinery people were in the north, the poor ladies 
 didn't know what to do, and couldn't work without 
 them." 
 
 " Sewing-machines are a recent invention," said 
 Dolores. 
 
 " Oh ! you didn't think I meant the great old War 
 of Independence. No, I meant the war about the 
 slaves — secession they called it." 
 
 "That is not in the history of England," said 
 Dolores, as if Mysie had no business to look beyond.
 
 v.] THE FIEST WALK. 71 
 
 " Why! of course not, when it happened in America. 
 Papa told us about it. He read it in some paper, I 
 think. Don't you like learning things in that way ? " 
 
 "No. I don't approve of irregular unsystematic 
 knowledge." 
 
 Dolores had heard her mother say something of 
 this kind, and it came into her head most oppor- 
 tunely as a defence of her father — for she would not 
 for the world have confessed that he did not talk to 
 her as Sir Jasper Merrifield seemed to have done to 
 his children. In fact she rather despised the General 
 for so doing. 
 
 " Oh ! but it is such fun picking up things out of 
 lesson time ! " said Mysie. 
 
 " That is the Edge ," Dolores was not sure of 
 
 the word Edgeworthian, so she went on to " system. 
 Professor Sefton says he does not approve of harassing 
 children with cramming them with irregular informa- 
 tion at all sorts of times. Let play be play and lessons 
 be lessons, he says, not mixed up together, and so 
 Ptex and Maude never learnt anything — not a letter — 
 till they were seven years old." 
 
 " How stupid ! " cried Mysie. 
 
 "Maude's not stupid!" cried Dolores, "nor the 
 professor either ! She's my great friend." 
 
 " I didn't say she was stupid," said Mysie, apolo- 
 getically, " only that it must be very stupid not to be 
 able to read till one was seven. Could you ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. I can't remember when I couldn't read. 
 But Maude used to play with a little girl who could
 
 72 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 read and talk French at five years old, and she died 
 of water upon her brain." 
 
 " Dear me ! Primrose can read quite well," said 
 Mysie, somewhat alarmed; "but then," she went on 
 in a reassured voice, " so could all of us except Jasper 
 and Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibral- 
 tar that they were quite stupid while they were there." 
 
 This discussion brought the two girls across the 
 paddock out into a road with a broad, neat foot- 
 path, where numerous little children were being 
 exercised with nurses and perambulators. At first 
 it was bordered by fields on either side, but villas 
 soon began to spring up, and presently the girls 
 reached what looked like a long, low " cottage resi- 
 dence," but was really two, with a verandah along the 
 front, and a garden divided in the middle by a paling 
 covered with canary nasturtium shrubs. The verandah 
 on one side was hung with a rich purple pall of the 
 dark clematis, on the other by a Gloire cle Dijon rose. 
 There were bright flower beds, and the dormer win- 
 dows over the verandah looked like smiling eyes under 
 their deep brows of creeper-trimmed verge-board. 
 What London-bred Dolores saw was a sight that 
 shocked her — a lady standing unbonneted just beyond 
 the verandah, talking to a girl whose black hat and 
 jacket looked what Mysie called "very G.F.S.-y." 
 
 The lady did not turn out to be young or beautiful. 
 She was near middle age, and looked as if she were 
 far too busy to be ever plump ; she had a very con- 
 siderable amount of nose, and rather thin, dark hair,
 
 v.] THE FIRST WALK. 73 
 
 done in a fashion which, like that of her navy blue 
 linen dress, looked perfectly antiquated to Dolores. 
 As she saw the two girls at the gate she came down 
 the path eagerly to welcome them. 
 
 "Ah! my dear Mysie ! so kind of your dear 
 mother! I thought I should hear from her." And 
 as she kissed Mysie, she added, " And this is the new 
 cousin. My dear, I am glad to see you here." 
 
 Dolores thought her own dignified manner had kept 
 off a kiss, not knowing that Miss Hacket was far too 
 ladylike to be over-familiar, and that there was no 
 need to put on such a forbidding look. 
 
 Mysie gave her message and note, but Miss Hacket 
 could not give the verbal answer at once till she had 
 consulted her sister. She was not sure whether 
 Constance had not made an engagement to play 
 lawn-tennis, so they must come in. 
 
 There sounded "coo-roo-oo coo-roo-oo" in the 
 verandah, and Mysie cried — 
 
 " Oh, the dear doves ! " 
 
 Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them 
 when the G.F.S. girl arrived, and as Mysie came to 
 a halt in delight at the aspect of a young one that 
 had just crept out into public life, the sister was called 
 to the window. She was a great deal younger and more 
 of the present day in style than her sister, and had 
 pensive-looking grey eyes, with a somewhat bored 
 languid manner as she shook hands with the early 
 visitors. 
 
 The sisters had a little consultation over the note,
 
 74 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 during which Dolores studied them, and Mysie studied 
 the doves, longing to see the curious process of feed- 
 ing the young ones. 
 
 When Miss Hacket turned hack to her with the 
 acceptance of the invitation, she thought she might 
 wait just to help Miss Hacket to put in the corn and 
 the sop. Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores. 
 
 " Did you arrive yesterday ? " 
 
 " No, the day before." 
 
 " Ah ! it must be a great change to you." 
 
 " Indeed it is." 
 
 " This must he the dullest place in England, I 
 think," said Miss Constance. " No variety, no advan- 
 tages of any kind ! And have not you lived in 
 London?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " That is my ambition ! I once spent six weeks 
 in London, and it was an absolute revelation — the 
 opening of another world. And I understand that 
 Mr. Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that 
 you saw a great deal of his friends." 
 
 " I used," said Dolores, thinking of those days of 
 her mother when she was the pet and plaything of 
 the guests, incited to say clever and pert things, 
 which then were passed round and embellished till 
 she neither knew them nor comprehended them. 
 
 " That is what I pine for ! " exclaimed Miss Con- 
 stance. " Nobody here has any ideas. You can't 
 conceive how borne and prejudiced every one is ! It 
 will be quite a delight to have some one here who
 
 v.] THE FIRST WALK. 75 
 
 is used to something better ! Don't you love art 
 needlework? " 
 
 " Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey 
 Gander on a toilet-cover." 
 
 " Oh ! how sweet ! "We never get any new patterns 
 here ! Do come in and see, I don't know which to 
 take; I brought three beginnings home to choose 
 from, and I am quite undecided." 
 
 "Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns," said 
 Dolores. " Sometimes she gets ideas from Lorenzo 
 Dellman — he's an artist, you know, and a regular 
 aesthete ! He made her do a dado all sunflowers last 
 year, but they are a little gone out now, and are very 
 staring besides, and I think she will have some 
 nymphs dancing among almond-trees in blue vases 
 instead, as soon as she has designed it." 
 
 "Isn't that lovely! Oh! what would I not give 
 for such opportunities? Do let me have your 
 opinion." 
 
 So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three 
 patterns, one of tall daisies ; another of odd-looking 
 doves, one on each side of a red Etruscan vase, where 
 the water must have been as much out of their reach as 
 that in the pitcher was beyond the crow's ; and a third, 
 of Little Bo Peep. Having given her opinion in favour 
 of Bo Peep, she was taken upstairs to inspect the 
 young lady's store of crewels, and choose the colours. 
 
 Dolores neither knew nor cared anything about 
 fancy work, but to be treated as an authority was 
 quite soothing, and she fully believed that the mere
 
 76 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 glimpses she had had of Mrs. Sefton's work and the 
 shop windows, enabled her to give great enlighten- 
 ment to this poor country mouse ; so she gladly went 
 to the bedroom, with a muslin-worked toilet-cover, 
 embroidered curtains, plates fastened against the 
 wall, and table all over knick-knacks, which Miss 
 Constance called her little den, where she could study 
 beauty after her own bent, while her sister Mary was 
 wholly engrossed with the useful, and could endure 
 nothing but the prose of the last century. 
 
 Meantime Mysie had forgotten how time flew in 
 her belief that in one minute more the young doves 
 would want to be fed, and then in amusement at 
 seeing them pursue their parents with low squeaks 
 and flutterings, watching, too, the airs and graces, 
 bowing, cooing, and laughing of the old ones. When 
 at last she was startled by hearing eleven struck, 
 there had to be a great hunt for Dolores in the 
 drawing-room and garden, and when at last Miss 
 Hacket's calls for her sister brought the two down- 
 stairs more than ten minutes had passed ! Mysie 
 was too much dismayed, and in too great a hurry to 
 do anything but cry, "Come along, Dolores," and set 
 off at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner, 
 even when Mysie recollected that it was too public a 
 place for running, and slackened her pace. Dolores 
 was soon gasping, and with a stitch in her side. Mysie 
 would have exclaimed, " What were you doing with 
 Miss Constance ? " but breathlessness happily pre- 
 vented it. The way across the paddock seemed end-
 
 v.] THE FIRST WALK. 77 
 
 less, and Mysie was chafed at having to hold back 
 for her companion, who panted in distress, leant 
 against a tree, declared she could not go on, she did 
 not care, and then when, Mysie set off running, was 
 seized with fright at being left alone in this vast 
 unknown space, cried after her and made a rush, 
 soon ending in sobbing breath. 
 
 At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just 
 coming out of the dining-room greeted them with, 
 "A quarter to twelve. Won't you catch it? 
 Oh my!" 
 
 "Are they come?" said Lady Merrifield, looking 
 out of the schoolroom. "My dear children! Did 
 Miss Hacket keep you ? " 
 
 " No, mamma," gasped Mysie. " At least it was 
 my fault for watching the doves." 
 
 "Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message 
 next time. Mr. Poulter has been waiting these 
 twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit to 
 take a lesson now. Dolores looks quite done up ! I 
 shall send you both to lie down on your beds and 
 learn your poetry for an hour. And you must write 
 an apology to Mr. Poulter this afternoon. No, don't 
 go in now. Go up at once, Gillian shall bring your 
 books. Does Miss Hacket come ? " 
 
 " Yes, mamma," said Mysie humbly, looking at 
 Dolores all the time. She was too generous to say 
 that part of the delay had been caused by looking 
 for her cousin, and having to adapt her pace to the 
 slower one, but she decidedly expected the avowal
 
 78 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 from Dolores, and thought it mean not to make it. 
 "And, oh, the jam!" she mourned as she went 
 upstairs. While, on the other hand, Dolores con- 
 sidered what she called "being sent to bed" an 
 unmerited and unjust sentence given without a hear- 
 ing ; when their tardiness had been all XEysie's fault, 
 not hers. She had no notion that her aunt only 
 sent them to lie down, because they looked heated, 
 tired, and spent, and was really letting them off their 
 morning's lessons. It was a pity that she felt too for- 
 lorn and sullen even to complain when Gillian brought 
 up Macaulay's " Armada " for her to learn the first 
 twelve lines, or she might have come to an under- 
 standing, but all that was elicited from her was a 
 glum " No," when asked if she knew it already. 
 Gillian told her not to keep her dusty boots on the bed, 
 and she vouchsafed no answer, for she did not consider 
 Gillian her mistress, though, after she was left to 
 herself, she found them so tight and hot that she 
 took them off. Then she looked over the verses 
 rather contemptuously — she who always learnt Ger- 
 man poetry; and she had a great mind to assert 
 her independence by getting off the bed, and writing 
 a letter to Maude Sefton, describing the narrow 
 stupidity of the whole family, and how her aunt, 
 without hearing her, had sent her to bed for ITysie's 
 fault. However she felt so shaky and tired that she 
 thought she had better rest a little first, and somehow 
 she fell fast asleep, and was only awakened by the 
 gong. She jumped up in haste, recollecting that the
 
 v.] THE FIRST WALK. 79 
 
 delightful sympathizing Miss Constance was coming 
 to luncheon, and set her hair and dress to rights 
 eagerly, observing, however, to herself, that her horrid 
 aunt was quite capable of imprisoning her all the 
 time for not having learnt that stupid poetry. 
 
 She hesitated a little where to go when she reached 
 the hall, but the schoolroom door was open, and she 
 heard a mournful voice concluding with a gasp — 
 " ' Our glorious semper eadem, the banner of our pride.' " 
 
 And Miss Vincent saying, " Now, my dear, go and 
 wash your face, and try not to be such a dismal 
 spectacle." 
 
 And then Mysie came out, with heavy eyes and a 
 mottled face, showing that she had been crying all 
 the time she had been learning, over her own fault 
 certainly, but likewise over mamma's displeasure and 
 Dolly's shabbiness. 
 
 " Well, Dora," said Miss Vincent, " have you come 
 to repeat your poetry ? " 
 
 " No," said Dolores. " I went to sleep instead." 
 
 " Oh ! I'm glad of that. I wish poor Mysie had 
 done the same. I believe it was what Lady Merrifield 
 intended, you both looked so knocked up." 
 
 Dolores cleared up a little at this, especially as 
 Miss Vincent was no relation, and she thought it a 
 good time to make her protest against mere English. 
 
 " Oh ! " she said. " I suppose that was the reason 
 she gave me such a stupid, childish, sing-song 
 nursery rhyme to learn. I can say lots of Schiller 
 and some Goethe."
 
 80 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " I advise you not to let any one hear you call Lord 
 Macaulay's poem a nursery rhyme, or it might never 
 be forgotten," said Miss Yincent gaily. Then seeing 
 the cloud return to Dolores' face, she added, " You 
 have been brought forward in German, I see. We 
 must try to bring your knowledge of English litera- 
 ture up to be even with it." 
 
 Dolores liked this better than anything she had yet 
 heard, chiefly because she had learnt from her books 
 that governesses were not uniformly so cruel as aunts. 
 And besides, she felt that she had been spared a 
 public humiliation. 
 
 By this time the guests were ringing at the door, 
 and Miss Yincent, with her hat on, only waiting till 
 their entrance was made to depart. Dolores asked 
 whether to go into the drawing-room, and was told 
 that Lady Merrifield preferred that the children 
 should only appear in the dining-room on the sound 
 of the gong, which was not long in being heard. 
 
 The Merrifields were trained not to chatter when 
 there was company at table, besides Mysie and Yal 
 were in low spirits about the chance of the blackberry 
 cookery. Miss Hacket sat on one side of Lady Merri- 
 field, and talked about what associates had answered 
 her letters, and what villages would send contingents 
 of girls, and it sounded very dull to the young people. 
 Miss Constance was next to Hal. She looked amiable 
 and sympathetic at Dolores on the opposite side of 
 the table, but discussed lawn-tennis tournaments with 
 her neighbour, which was quite as little interesting to
 
 v.] THE FIRST WALK. 81 
 
 the general public as was the G.F.S. However, as 
 soon as Primrose had said grace, Lady Merrifield 
 proposed to take Miss Hacket down to the stable- 
 yard ; and the whole train followed excepting the two 
 girls, who trusted Hal to see whether their pets would 
 suffer inconvenience. However it soon was made 
 evident to Gillian that she was not wanted, and that 
 Dolores and Constance had no notion of wandering 
 about the paved courts and bare coach-houses, among 
 the dogs and cats, guinea-pigs, and fowls. Indeed, 
 Constance, who was at least seven years older than 
 Gillian, and a full-blown young lady, dismissed her 
 by saying " that she was going to see Miss Mohun's 
 books." 
 
 "Oh, certainly," said Gillian, in a voice as 
 though she were rather surprised, though much 
 relieved. 
 
 So off the friends went together — for of course they 
 were to be friends. The Miss Mohun had been 
 uttered in a tone that clearly meant to be asked to 
 drop it, so they were to be Dolores and Constance 
 henceforth, if not Dolly and Con. Dolores was such 
 a lovely name that Constance could not mangle it, 
 and was sure there was some reason for it. The girl 
 had, in fact, been named after a Spanish lady, whom 
 her mother had known and admired in early girlhood, 
 and to whom she had made a promise of naming her 
 first daughter after her. No doubt Dolores did not 
 know that Mrs. Mohun had regretted the childish 
 promise which she had felt bound to keep in spite of 
 
 VOL. I. g
 
 82 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 her husband's dislike to the name, which he declared 
 would be a misfortune to the child. 
 
 Dolores was really proud of its peculiarity, and 
 delighted to have any one to sympathize with her, in 
 that and a great deal besides, which she communi- 
 cated to her new friend in the window-seat of her 
 room. When the two ladies went home, Constance 
 told her sister that " dear little Dolores was a remark- 
 able character, sadly misunderstood among those 
 common-place people, the Merrifields, and unjustly 
 used, too, and she should do her best for her ! " 
 
 Meantime Gillian, finding herself not wanted, had 
 repaired to the schoolroom. 
 
 " Oh, it is of no use," sighed Mysie, disconsolately. 
 " I've ever so much morning's work to make up, too. 
 And I never shall ! I've muzzled my head ! " 
 
 By which remarkable expression Mysie signified 
 that fatigue, crying, and dinner had made her brains 
 dull and heavy; but Gillian was a sensible elder 
 sister. 
 
 " Don't try your sum yet, then," she said. "Practise 
 your scales for half an hour, while I do my algebra, 
 and then we'll go over your German verbs together. 
 I'll tell Miss Yincent, and she won't mind, and I 
 think mamma will be pleased if you try." 
 
 Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able 
 to work an equation, and prepare her Virgil, to the 
 sound of scales, and Mysie was a good deal restored 
 by them and by hope. 
 
 So when at length Constance had been summoned
 
 v.] THE FIEST WALK. 83 
 
 by her sister, who tore herself away from the arrange- 
 ments, being bound to five-o'clock tea elsewhere, 
 Mysie was discovered with a face still rather woe- 
 begone, but hopeful and persevering, and though 
 there still was a " bill of parcels " where llf lbs. of 
 mutton at 13£d. per lb. refused to come right, Lady 
 Merrifield kissed her, said she had been a diligent 
 child, and sent her off prancing in bliss to the old 
 "still-room" stove, where they were allowed a fire, 
 basins, spoons, and strainers, and where the sugar lay 
 in a snowy heap, and the blackberries in a sanguine 
 pile. 
 
 "There's partiality! " thought Dolores, and scowled, 
 as she stood at the front door still gazing after 
 Constance. 
 
 "Won't you come, Dolly?" said Mysie. " Or 
 haven't you learnt your lessons ? " 
 
 " No," said Dolly, making one answer serve for 
 both questions. 
 
 " Oh ! then you can't. Shall I ask mamma to let 
 you off ? " 
 
 " No, I don't care. I don't like messes ! And 
 what's the use if you haven't a cookery class ? " 
 
 " It's such fun," said Val. 
 
 " And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin 
 and taught Gill," added Mysie. 
 
 " But if you haven't done your lessons, you can't 
 go," said Valetta decidedly. 
 
 Off they went, and Lady Merrifield presently crossed 
 the hall, and saw Dolores' attitude.
 
 84 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "My dear, are you waiting to say those verses?" 
 she said kindly. 
 
 " I hadn't time to learn them, I went to sleep," 
 said Dolores. 
 
 " A very good thing too, my dear. Suppose we go 
 over them together." 
 
 Aunt Lilias took the unwilling hand, led Dolores 
 into the schoolroom, and for half an hour she went 
 over the verses with her, explaining what was new to 
 the girl, and vividly describing the agitation of Ply- 
 mouth, and the flocks of people thronging in. "I 
 must show her that I will be minded, but I will make 
 it pleasant to her, poor child," she thought. 
 
 And it could not have been otherwise than pleasant 
 to her, but that she was reflecting all this time that 
 she was being punished while Mysie was enjoying 
 herself. Therefore she put the lid on her intellect, 
 and was inconceivably stupid.
 
 vi.] PEESECUTIOX. 85 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 PERSECUTION. 
 
 On Monday afternoon Dolores was sitting at the end 
 of the long garden walk, upon a green garden-bench, 
 with a crocodile's head and tail roughly carved. The 
 shouts of the others were audible in the distance 
 beyond the belt of trees. Aunt Lily had driven into 
 the town to meet her sisters, taking Fergus with her, 
 whereas Dolores had never been out in the carriage. 
 There was partiality ! Though, to be sure, Fergus 
 was to have a tooth out ! Harry and Gillian were 
 playing with the rest, and she had been invited to 
 join, but she had made answer that she hated romp- 
 ing, and on being assured that no romping was 
 necessary, she replied that she only wanted to read 
 in peace. She had refused the " Thorn Fortress," 
 which she was told would explain the game, and had 
 hunted out " Clare, or No Home," to compare her lot 
 with that of the homeless one. 
 
 Certainly, she had not yet been sent to bed with 
 a box on the ear because a countess had shown 
 symptoms of noticing her more than her ugly, over-
 
 86 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 dressed cousins. But then Aunt Lily would not allow 
 her to walk down alone to the Casement Villas to see 
 dear Constance, and would let that farmer keep all 
 those dreadful cows in the paddock, so that even 
 going escorted was a terror to her. 
 
 Nor had her handsome mourning been taken from 
 her and old clothes of her cousins substituted for it. 
 No, but she had been cruelly pulled about between 
 Mrs. Halfpenny and the Silverton dressmaker with 
 a mouthful of pins ; and Aunt Lily had insisted on 
 her dress being trimmed with velvet, instead of the 
 jingling jet she preferred. 
 
 Did they intercept her letters ? She had had one 
 from her father, sent from Falmouth, but only one 
 from Maude Sefton in ten clays ! Moreover, she had 
 one from Constance in her apron pocket, arrived that 
 very afternoon, asking her to come down with Gillian 
 on the Sundays, that the friends might enjoy them- 
 selves together while the classes were going on ; but 
 she made sure that all were so jealous of her friendship 
 with Constance that no consent would be given. 
 
 She did not hear or notice the whisperings in the 
 laurels behind her — 
 
 " Do you see that sulky old Croat, smoking his pipe 
 under the tree ? " 
 
 " No, he is a Black Brunswicker." 
 
 " Nonsense, Willie; the Black Brunswickers weren't 
 till Bonaparte's time." 
 
 " I don't care, he is anything black and nasty; here 
 goes ! "
 
 vi.] PEKSECUTIOX. 87 
 
 "Oh stop; don't shoot. I believe he is only a 
 vivandiere. Besides, it's treacherous — " 
 
 " I tell you he is laying a train to blow up the 
 tower. There ! " 
 
 An arrow struck the bench beside Dolores, who, 
 more angry than she had ever been in her life, 
 snatched it up, unheeding that it had no point to 
 speak of, rushed headlong in pursuit, while, with 
 a tremendous shout, Yaletta and Wilfred flew before 
 her to a waste overgrown place at the end of the 
 kitchen garden. 
 
 "We've shot a Croat!" 
 
 " No, a Black Brunswicker." 
 
 "Oh ah ! They are coming — the enemy ! Into the 
 fortress ! Bar the wolf's passage ! " 
 
 And as Dolores struggled through the bushes, she 
 saw the whole family dashing into an outhouse, and 
 the door slammed. She pushed against it, but an 
 unearthly compound of howls, yells, shouts and bangs 
 replied. 
 
 " Gillian ! Harry, I say," she cried in great anger ; 
 " come out, I want to speak to you." 
 
 But her voice was lost in the war-whoops within, 
 and the louder she knocked, the louder grew the din, 
 till she walked off, swelling with grief and indignation. 
 Mysie, after all her professions of friendship, to use 
 her in this way ! And Harry and Gillian, who should 
 have kept the others within bounds ! 
 
 Slowly she crossed the lawn, just as Lady Merrifield, 
 the other two aunts, and Fergus, all came out from
 
 88 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 the glass door of the drawing-room. Aunt Jane, a 
 trim little dark-eyed woman, looking at two and forty 
 much the same as she might have done at five and 
 twenty ; and Aunt Adeline, pretty and delicately fair, 
 with somewhat of the same grace as Lady Merrifield, 
 but more languor, and an air as if everything about 
 her were for effect. Though not specially fond of 
 these aunts, Dolores was glad to have them as 
 witnesses of her ill-usuage. 
 
 " There stands Dolly, like a statue of Diana, dart 
 in hand," exclaimed Aunt Adeline. 
 
 "Yes," said Dolores; "I wish to know, Aunt 
 Lilias, if Wilfred and Valetta are to call me names, 
 and shoot arrows at me ? " 
 
 " What do you mean, my dear ? " 
 
 " They came at me while I was sitting quietly 
 reading — there — and shot at me, and called me such 
 horrid names I can't repeat them, and ran away. 
 Then the others, Gillian and Harry and all, would 
 not listen to me, but shut themselves up in an out- 
 house and shouted at me." 
 
 " I think there must be some mistake, Dolores," 
 said her aunt. " Where are they ? " 
 
 " Out beyond there," said Dolores, pointing in the 
 direction in which Fergus was running. 
 
 Lady Merrifield set off with her, and the other two 
 ladies followed more slowly. 
 
 " I thought it would not do," said Aunt Jane. 
 
 "Lily's children are so rough," added Aunt 
 Adeline.
 
 vl] PERSECUTION. 89 
 
 " I am not so sure that the fault is theirs," was the 
 reply. " She is a priggish little puss, who wants 
 shaking up." 
 
 "Ah! here come the hordes," sighed Adeline, 
 shrinking a little, as the entire population, summoned 
 by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the advancing 
 mother. 
 
 " How is this, Wilfred ? Have you been shooting 
 arrows at your cousin ? " 
 
 " Mamma ! " cried Valetta, indignantly, " he did 
 not shoot at her ; he only pretended, and shot the old 
 crocodile-bench. He never meant any more. It was 
 only play." 
 
 "Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the 
 direction of any person ? " 
 
 "Nor I didn't," said Wilfred. "I only shot the 
 crocodile. I never tried to hit her. She is quite big 
 enough to miss." 
 
 "And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma," 
 added Valetta. "We were scouts out of the Thorn 
 Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly dodge 
 to steal upon one of the enemy." 
 
 " You should have warned her." 
 
 " Then it would not have been a surprise," said Val, 
 seriously. 
 
 " Was she not at play with you ? " 
 
 " No, mamma," said Mysie. "We asked her, and 
 she would not. I say," pausing in consternation, 
 " Dolores, was it you that came and called at the door 
 of the Wolf's passage ? "
 
 90 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [char 
 
 " Of course. I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred 
 behaved to me." 
 
 " I thought it was Fergus come home to be the 
 enemy." 
 
 " Didn't you know her voice ? " asked the mother. 
 
 " We were all making such a noise ourselves in the 
 dark," said Gillian, "that there was no hearing any 
 one ; and Primrose was rather frightened, so that Hal 
 was attending to her. Indeed, Dolores, I am very 
 sorry. If we had guessed that it was you, we would 
 have opened the door at once, and then you would 
 have known that it was all fun and play, and not 
 have troubled mamma about it." 
 
 "Wilfred and Valetta knew," said Dolores, rather 
 sullenly. 
 
 " Oh ! but it was such fun," said Yal. 
 
 " It was fun that became unkindness on your part," 
 said her mother. " You ought not to have kept it 
 up without warning to her. And what do I hear 
 about names ? I hope that was also misunderstand- 
 ing of the game. What did you call her ? " 
 
 " Only a Croat," said Valetta, indignantly, " and 
 a Black Brunswicker." 
 
 " Was that it, Dolores ? " 
 
 " Perhaps," she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh 
 from her Aunt Jane. 
 
 " I do not know what you took them for," said 
 Lady Merrifield, "but you see some part of this 
 trouble arose from a mistake on your part. Now, 
 Wilfred and Valetta, remember that is not right to
 
 vi.] PEKSECUTIOX. 91 
 
 force a person into play against her will. And as to 
 the shooting near, but not at her, you both know per- 
 fectly well that it is forbidden. So give me your bow, 
 Wilfred. I shall keep it for a week, that you may 
 remember obedience." 
 
 Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed. Dolores could 
 not call her aunt unjust, but as she looked round, she 
 met glances that made her think it prudent to shelter 
 herself among the elders. Aunt Jane asked what the 
 game was. 
 
 " < The Thorn Fortress,' " said Gillian. " It comes 
 out of that delightful S.P.C.K. book so called, where, 
 in the ' Thirty Years' War,' all the people of a 
 Tillage took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the 
 middle of a forest guarded by a tremendous hedge of 
 thorns. Yal had it for a birthday present, and the 
 children have been acting it ever since." 
 
 " It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, 
 which used to be a regular stage in these children's 
 lives. Every voyage we have taken, somebody has 
 come to ask whether there was any hope of being 
 wrecked on one." 
 
 " Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin," 
 said Gillian. 
 
 " He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition," 
 observed Harry. 
 
 On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five- 
 o'clock tea in the drawing-room, the juniors to gouter 
 in the dining-room. As Dolores entered, she beheld 
 a row of all her five younger cousins drawn up looking
 
 92 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 at her as if she had committed high treason, and she 
 was instantly addressed — 
 
 " Tell-tale tit ! " began Valetta. 
 
 " Sneak! "cried Wilfred. 
 
 " I will call her Croat ! " added Fergus. 
 
 " Worse than Croat ! Bashi Bazouk ! " exclaimed 
 Valetta. 
 
 " Worse than Crow ! " chimed in Primrose. 
 
 " Oh, Dolores ! how could you ? " said Mysie. 
 
 " To get poor Willie punished ! " said Yal. 
 
 Dolores stood her ground. " It was time to speak 
 when it came to shooting arrows at me." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! Willie," cried Mysie. "I told you 
 so. Now Dolores, listen. Nobody ever tells of any- 
 body when it is only being tiresome and they don't 
 mean it, or there never would be any peace at all. 
 That's honour ! Do you see ? One may go to Gill 
 sometimes." 
 
 " One's a sneak if one does," put in Wilfred ; but 
 Mysie, unheeding went on — ■ 
 
 " And Gill can help without a fuss or going to 
 mamma." 
 
 " Mamma always knows," said Val. 
 
 "Mamma knows all about everything," said Mysie. 
 " I think it's nature ; and if she does not always 
 take notice at the time, she will have it out sooner or 
 later." Then resuming the thread of her discourse : 
 "So you see, Dolly, we have made up our minds that 
 we will forgive you this time, because you are an only 
 child and don't know what's what, and that's some
 
 vi.] PERSECUTION. 93 
 
 excuse. Only you mustn't go on telling tales when- 
 ever an accident happens." 
 
 Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, 
 but the force against her was overpowering, though 
 still she hesitated. " But if I promise not to tell," 
 she said, " how do I know what maybe done to me?" 
 
 " You might trust us," cried Mysie, with flashing 
 eyes. 
 
 " And I can tell you," added Wilfred, " that if you 
 do tell, it will be ever so much the worse for you — 
 girl that you are." 
 
 " War to the knife ! " cried Yaletta, and everybody 
 except Mysie joined in the outcry. "War to the 
 knife with traitors in the camp." 
 
 Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again 
 acted orator. " You see, Dolores, if you did tell, it 
 would not be possible for mamma or Gill to be always 
 looking after you, and I couldn't do you much good — 
 and if all these three are set against you, and are 
 horrid to you, you'll have no peace in your life ; and, 
 after all, we only ask of you to give and take in a 
 good-natured sort of way, and not to be always 
 making a fuss about everything you don't like. It is 
 the only way, I assure you." 
 
 Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said — 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 " You promise ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then we forgive you, and here's the box of 
 chocolate things Aunt Ada brought. We'll have a
 
 94 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 cigar all round and be friends. Smoke the pipe of 
 peace." 
 
 Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would 
 have been to have replied, " Dolores Mohun will never 
 be intimidated; " but the fact was that her spirit did 
 quail at the thought of the tortures which the two 
 boys might inflict on her if Mysie abandoned her to 
 their mercy, and she was relieved, as well as surprised 
 to find that her offence was condoned, and she was 
 treated as if nothing had happened. 
 
 Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing- 
 room, " How do you get on ? " 
 
 " Fairly well,'' was Lady Merrifield's answer. 
 " TVe shall work together in time.'' 
 
 "What does Gill say?" asked the aunt, rather 
 mischievously. 
 
 "Well," said the young lady, "I don't think we 
 get on at all, not even poor Mysie, who works steadily 
 on at her, gets snubbed a dozen times a day, and 
 never seems to feel it." 
 
 I hoped her father would have sent her to school," 
 said Aunt Adeline. " I knew she would be trouble- 
 some. She has all her mother's pride." 
 
 "The proudest people are those who have least to 
 be proud of," said Aunt Jane. 
 
 " School would have hardened the crust and kept 
 up the alienation," said Lady Merrifield. 
 
 " Perhaps not. It might teach her to value the 
 holidays, and learn that blood is thicker than water," 
 said Miss Jane.
 
 vi.] PERSECUTION. 95 
 
 " It is always in reserve," added Miss Adeline. 
 
 " Yes, Maurice told me to send her if I grew tired 
 of her, as he said," replied Lady Merrifield, " but of 
 course I should not think of that unless for very 
 strong reasons." 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! " and Gillian remained with her 
 mouth open. 
 
 "Well?" said Aunt Jane. 
 
 " I meant to have told you mamma, but Mr Lead- 
 bitter came in about the G.F.S. and stopped me, and 
 I have never seen you to speak to since. Yesterday 
 you know, I stayed from evensong to look after the 
 little ones, and you said Dolores might do as she 
 pleased, so she stayed at home. The children were 
 looking at the book of Bible Pictures, and it came out 
 that Dolly knew nothing at all about Joshua and the 
 walls of Jericho, nor Gideon and the lamps in the 
 pitchers, nor anything else. Then, when I was 
 surprised, she said that it was not the present system 
 to perplex children with the myths of ancient Jewish 
 history." 
 
 Gillian was speaking rapidly, in the growing 
 consciousness that her mother had rather have had 
 this communication reserved for her private ear — 
 and her answer was, " Poor child ! " 
 
 " Just what I should expect ! " said Aunt Jane. 
 
 " Probably it was jargon half understood, and 
 repeated in defence of her ignorance," said Lad}' 
 Merrifield. " She is an odd mixture of defiant 
 loyalty and self-defence."
 
 96 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " What shall you do about this kind of talk ? " asked 
 her sister. 
 
 " One must hear it sooner or later," said Harry. 
 
 " That is true," returned his mother, " but I 
 suppose Fergus and Primrose did not hear or under- 
 stand." 
 
 " Oh no, mamma. I know they did not, for they 
 were squabbling because Primrose wanted to turn 
 over before Fergus had done with Gideon." 
 
 " Then I don't think there is any harm done. If it 
 comes before Mysie or Yal I will talk to them, and I 
 mean to take this poor child alone for a little while 
 each day in the week and try to get at her." 
 
 " There's another thing," said Gillian. " Is she to 
 go down with me always to Casement Cottages on 
 Sunday afternoons when I take the class ? " 
 
 " To teach or to learn ? " ironically exclaimed Aunt 
 Jane. 
 
 " Neither," said Gillian. " To chatter to Constance 
 Hacket. They both spoke to me about it yesterday 
 before I went home, and I believe Constance has 
 written a note to her to ask her to-day ! Fancy, that 
 goose told me my sweet cousin was a dear, and that 
 we didn't appreciate her. Even Miss Hacket gave 
 me quite a lecture on kindness and consideration to 
 an orphan stranger." 
 
 "Not uncalled for, perhaps," said Aunt Jane. "I 
 hope you received it in an edifying manner." 
 
 " Now, Aunt Jane ! "Well, I believe I said we were 
 as kind as she would let us be, especially Mysie."
 
 vi.] PERSECUTION. 97 
 
 Lady Merrifield here made the move to conduct her 
 sisters to their rooms; Miss Mohun detained her 
 when they had reached hers, and had left Adeline to 
 rest on her sofa. The two, though very unlike, had 
 still the habits of absolute confidential intimacy be- 
 longing to sisters next in age. 
 
 " Lily," said Miss Mohun, " Gillian spoke of a 
 note. Bid Maurice give you any directions about this 
 child's correspondence ? " 
 
 " You know I did not see him. I was so much 
 disappointed. I would give anything to have talked 
 her over with him." 
 
 " I am not sure that you would have gained much. 
 I doubt whether lie knows much about her, poor 
 fellow. But the letters ? " 
 
 " He wrote that she had been a good deal with 
 Professor Sefton's family, and he thought they might 
 like to keep up their intercourse." 
 
 " Nothing about Flinders ? He ought to have 
 warned you." 
 
 "No. Who is he?" 
 
 " A half-brother — no, a step-brother to poor Mary. 
 He was the son by a former marriage of her father's 
 first wife, and has been always a thorn in their sides. 
 He is a low, dissipated kind of creature ; writes 
 theatrical criticisms for third-rate papers, or some- 
 thing of that kind, when he is at his best. I believe 
 Mary was really fond of him, and helped him more 
 than Maurice could well bear, and since her death 
 the man has perfectly pestered him with appeals to 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 her memory. I really believe one reason he welcomed 
 this post was to get out of his reach." 
 
 "You always know everything Jenny. Now how 
 did you know this ? " 
 
 " I called once in the midst of an interview between 
 him and Mary. And afterwards I came on poor 
 Maurice when he was really very much provoked, and 
 had it all out ; and since her death — well, I saw him 
 get a begging letter from the man, and he spoke of it 
 again. I wish I had advised him to warn you against 
 the wretch." 
 
 " I don't suppose he knows where the child is. He 
 is no relation to her, you say ? " 
 
 "None at all, happily. But on that occasion, 
 when I was an uncomfortable third, Maurice was very 
 angry that she should have been allowed to call him 
 Uncle Alfred ; and Mary screwed up her little mouth, 
 and evidently rather liked the aggravation to Mohun 
 pride." 
 
 "Poor Maurice, so he had a skeleton! Well, I 
 don't see how it can hurt us. The man probably 
 knows nothing about us, and even if he could trace 
 the girl, he must know that she can do nothing for 
 him." 
 
 " You had better keep an eye on her letters. He is 
 quite capable of asking for the poor child's half- 
 sovereigns. I wish Maurice had given you authority." 
 
 " Perhaps he spoke to her about it. At any rate, 
 what he said of the Seftons is quite sufficient to imply 
 that there is no sanction to any other correspondence. "
 
 vi.] PERSECUTION. 99 
 
 " That is true. Beally, Lily, I believe you are the 
 most likely person to do some good with her, though 
 I don't think you know what you are in for. But 
 Gillian does ! " 
 
 " I believe it is very good for the children to have to 
 exercise a little forbearance. In spite of all our 
 knocking about the world, our family exclusiveness 
 is pretty much what ours was in the old Beechcroft 
 days " 
 
 "When Botherwood and Bobert Mohun were our 
 only outsiders and the Westons came on us like new 
 revelations ! " 
 
 " It is curious to look back on," said Lady Merri- 
 field. " It seems to me that the system, or no system, 
 on which we were brought up was rather passing 
 away even then." 
 
 "Specks we growed," said Jane. "What do you 
 call the system ? " 
 
 " Just that people thought it their own business to 
 bring up their children themselves, and let the actual 
 technical teaching depend upon opportunities, whereas 
 now they get them taught, but let the bringing up 
 take its chance." 
 
 " People lived with their children then — yes, I see 
 what you mean, Lily. Poor Eleanor, intending with 
 all her might to be a mother to us, brought us up, as 
 you call it, with all her powers ; but public opinion 
 would never have suffered us to get merely the odd 
 sort of teaching that she could give us. It was regular, 
 of course ; but oh ! do you remember the old atlas,
 
 100 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 with Germany divided into circles, and everything as 
 it was before the Congress of Vienna ? " 
 
 " You liked geography ; I hated it." 
 
 " Yes, I was young enough to come in for the elder 
 boys' old school atlases, which had some sense in 
 them. It seems to me that we had more the spirit of 
 working for ourselves according to our individual 
 tastes than people have now. We learnt, they are 
 taught." 
 
 " Well ! and what did we learn ? " 
 
 "As much as we could carry," said Aunt Jane, 
 laughing. "Assimilate, if you like it better; and I 
 doubt if people will turn out to have done more now. 
 What becomes of all the German that is crammed 
 down girls' throats, whether they have a turn for 
 languages or not ? Do they ever read a German 
 book ? Now you learnt it for love of Fouque and Max 
 Piccolomini, and you have kept it up ever since." 
 
 " Yes, by cramming it down my children's throats. 
 But what I complain of, Jane, in the young folk that 
 come across me is not over-knowledge, but want of 
 knowledge — want of general culture. This Dolores, 
 for instance, can do what she has been taught better 
 than Mysie, some things better than Gillian, but she 
 has absolutely no interest in general knowledge, not 
 even in the glaciers which she has seen; she does 
 not know whether Homer wrote in Greek or Latin, con- 
 siders " Marmion " a lesson, cannot tell a planet from 
 a star, and neither knows nor cares anything about 
 the two Napoleons. Now we seem to have breathed
 
 vi.] PERSECUTION. 101 
 
 in such things. Why ! I remember being made into 
 Astyanax for a very unwilling Andromache (poor 
 Eleanor) to caress, and being told to shudder at the 
 bright copper coal-scuttle, before Harry went to 
 school." 
 
 "Of course poor Maurice could not cultivate his 
 child. Yet, after all, we grew up without a mother ; 
 but then the dear old Baron lived among us, and 
 knew what we were doing, instead of shutting us up 
 in a schoolroom with some one, with only knowledge, 
 not culture. Those very late dinners have quite upset 
 all the intelligent intercourse between fathers and 
 children not come out." 
 
 "Yes, Jasper and I have felt that difficulty. But 
 after all, Jenny, when I look back, I cannot say I 
 think ours was a model bringing up. What a strange 
 year that was after Eleanor's marriage ! " 
 
 " Ah ! you felt responsible and were too young for 
 it, but to me it was a very jolly time, though I sup- 
 pose I was an ingredient in your troubles. Yes, we 
 brought ourselves up ; but I maintain that it was a 
 better alternative than being drilled so hard as never 
 to think of anything but arrant idling out of lesson- 
 time." 
 
 "Lessons should be lessons, and play, play, is one 
 of the professor's maxims to which that poor child 
 has treated us." 
 
 "Ah! on that system, where would have been all 
 your grand heraldic pedigrees ? I've got them 
 still."
 
 102 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "Oh! Jenny, you good old Brownie, have you? 
 How I should like to look at them again and show 
 them to Gillian and Mysie. Do you rememher the 
 little scallopped line we drew round all the true 
 knights?" 
 
 "Ay! and where would have heen all your 
 romancing about Sir Maurice de Mohun, the pride 
 of his name ? For my part, I much prefer a cavalier 
 dead two hundred years ago as the object of a girl's 
 enthusiasm — if enthusiasm she must have — to the 
 existing lieutenant, or even curate." 
 
 "Certainly; I should be sorry to have been bred 
 up to history with individual interest and romance 
 squeezed out of it. You see when Jasper came home 
 from the Crimea he exactly continued mine." 
 
 "You have fulfilled your ideal better than falls to 
 the lot of most people, even to the item of knight- 
 hood." 
 
 " Ah ! you should have heard us grumble over the 
 expense of it. And, after all, I dare say Sir Maurice 
 found his knight's fee quite as inconvenient ! Oh ! " 
 with a start, "there's the first bell, and here have I 
 been dawdling here instead of minding my business ! 
 But it is so nice to have you ! I say, Jenny, v>-e will 
 have one of our good old games at threadpaper verses 
 and all the rest to-night. I want you to show the 
 children how we used to play at them." 
 
 And the party played at paper games for nearly 
 two hours that evening, to the extreme delight of 
 Gillian, Mysie, and Harry, to say nothing of their
 
 vi.] PERSECUTION. 103 
 
 mother and aunts, who played with all their might, 
 even Aunt Adeline lighting up into droll, quiet 
 humour. Only Dolores was first bewildered, then 
 believed herself affronted, and soon gave up altogether, 
 wondering that grown-up people could be so foolish.
 
 104 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 G.F.S. 
 
 The first thought of Dolores was that she should see 
 Constance Hacket, when she heard "Hurrah for a 
 holiday ! " resounding over the house. 
 
 As she came out of her room Mysie met her. 
 "Hurrah! Aunt Jane has got us a holiday that we 
 may help get ready for the G.F.S. ! Mamma has 
 sent down notes to Miss Vincent and Mr. Pollock. 
 Oh ! jolly, jolly ! " 
 
 And, oblivious of past offences, Mysie caught her 
 cousin's arms, and whirled her round and round in 
 an exulting dance, extremely unpleasant to so quiet a 
 personage. " Don't ! " she cried. " You hurt ! You 
 make me dizzy ! " 
 
 " My certie, Miss Mysie ! " exclaimed Mrs. Half- 
 penny at the same time, "ye're daft! Gae doon 
 canny, and keep your apron on, for if I see a stain 
 on that clean dress " 
 
 Mysie hopped downstairs without waiting to hear 
 the terrible consequences. 
 
 Aunt Adeline did not come down to breakfast, but
 
 til] g.f.s. 105 
 
 Aunt Jane appeared, fresh and glowing, just in time 
 for prayers, having been with Gillian and Harry to 
 survey the scene of operations, and to judge of the 
 day, which threatened showers, the grass being dank 
 and sparkling with something more than September 
 dews. 
 
 " The tables must be in the coach-house," said 
 Lady Merrifielcl. " Happily, our equipages are not 
 on a large scale, and we must not get the poor girls' 
 best things drenched." 
 
 "No; and it is rather disheartening to have to 
 address double ranks of umbrellas," said Aunt Jane. 
 " Is the post come ? " 
 
 "It is always infamously late here," said Harry. 
 "We complained, as the appointed hour is eight, but 
 we were told ' all the other ladies were satisfied.' I 
 do believe they think no one not in business has a 
 right to wish for letters before nine." 
 
 " Here it comes, though," said Gillian; and in due 
 time the locked letter-bag was delivered to Lady 
 Merrifield, and Primrose waited eagerly to act as 
 postman. 
 
 It was not the day for the Indian mail, but Aunt 
 Jane expected some last directions, and Lady Merri- 
 field the final intelligence as to the numbers of each 
 contingent of girls. Dolores was on the qui vive for 
 a letter from Maude Sefton, and devoured her aunt 
 and the bag with her eyes. She was quite sure that 
 among the bundle of post-cards that were taken out 
 there was a letter. Also she saw her aunt give a
 
 106 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 little start, and put it aside, and when she demanded. 
 "Is there no letter for me?" Lady Merrifield's 
 answer was, "None, my dear, from Miss Sefton." 
 
 Hot indignation glowed in Dolores's cheeks and 
 eyes, more especially as she perceived a look pass 
 between the two aunts. She sat swelling while talk 
 about the chances of rain was passing round her, the 
 forecasts in the paper, the cats washing their faces, 
 the swallows flying low, the upshot being that it 
 might be fine, but that emergencies were to be pre- 
 pared for. All the time that Lady Merrifield was 
 giving orders to children and servants for the prepara- 
 tions, Dolores kept her station, and the instant there 
 was a vacant moment, she said fiercely — 
 
 "Aunt Lilias, I know there is a letter for me. Let 
 me have it." 
 
 " Your father told me you might have letters from 
 Miss Sefton, and there is none from her," said Lady 
 Merrifield, with a somewhat perplexed air. 
 
 " I may have letters from whom I choose." 
 
 " My dear, that is not the custom in general with 
 girls of your age, and I know your father would not 
 wish it. Tell me, is there any one you have reason 
 to expect to hear from ? " 
 
 Dolores had an instinct that all the Mohuns were 
 set against the person she was thinking of, but she 
 had an answer ready, true, but which would serve 
 her purpose. 
 
 " There was a person, Herr Miihlwausser, that 
 father ordered some scientific plates from — of micro-
 
 vil] G.F.S. 107 
 
 scopic zoophytes. He said he did not know whether 
 anything would come of it, but, in case it should, he 
 gave my address, and left me a cheque to pay him 
 with. I have it in my desk upstairs." 
 
 "Very well, my dear," said Lady Merrifield, "you 
 shall have the letter when it comes." 
 
 " The men are come, my lady, to put up the tables. 
 Miss Mohun says will you come down?" came the 
 information at that moment, sweeping away Aunt 
 Lilias and everybody else into the whirl of prepara- 
 tion ; while Dolores remained, feeling absolutely cer- 
 tain that a letter was being withheld from her, and 
 she stood on the garden steps burning with hot indig- 
 nation, when Mysie, armed with the key of the linen- 
 press, flashed past her breathlessly, exclaiming — 
 
 " Aren't you coming down, Dolly ? 'Tis such fun ! 
 I'm come for some table-cloths." 
 
 This didn't stir Dolores, but presently Mysie re- 
 turned again, followed by Mrs. Halfpenny, grumbling 
 that "A' the bonnie napery that she had packed and 
 carried sae mony miles by sea and land should be 
 waured on a wheen silly feckless taupies that 'tis the 
 leddies' wull to cocker up till not a lass of 'em will do 
 a stroke of wark, nor gie a ceevil answer to her elders." 
 
 Mysie, with a bundle of damask cloths under her 
 arm, paused to repeat, "Are you not coming Dolly? 
 Your dear Miss Constance is there looking for you." 
 
 This did move Dolores, and she followed to the 
 coach-house, where everybody was buzzing about like 
 bees, the tables and forms being arranged, and upon
 
 108 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 them dishes with piles of fruit and cakes, contributions 
 from other associates. All the vases, great and small, 
 were brought out, and raids were made on the flower 
 garden to fill them. Little scarlet flags, with the 
 name of each parish in white, were placed to direct 
 the parties of guests to their places, and Harry, 
 Macrae, and the little groom were adorning the beams 
 with festoons. The men from the coffee-tavern 
 supplied the essentials, but the ladies undertook the 
 decoration, and Aunt Adeline, in a basket-chair, with 
 her feet on a box, directed the ornamentation with 
 great taste and ability. Constance Hacket had been 
 told off to make up a little bouquet to lay beside each 
 plate, and Dolores volunteered to help her. 
 
 " Well, dearest, will you come to me on Sunday ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I have not been able to ask Aunt 
 Lilias yet, and Gillian was very cross about it." 
 
 "What did she say?" 
 
 " She said she did not think Aunt Lilias approved 
 of visiting and gossiping on Sundays." 
 
 "Oh! now. What does Gillian do herself?" said 
 Constance in a hurt voice. " She does come and teach, 
 certainly, but she stays ever so long talking after the 
 class is over. Why should we gossip more than she 
 does?" 
 
 " Yes ; but people's own children can do no wrong." 
 
 There Constance became inattentive. Mr. Poulter 
 had come up, and wanted to be useful, so she jumped 
 up with a handful of nosegays to instruct him in 
 laying them by each plate, leaving Dolores to herself,
 
 yit.] G.F.S. 109 
 
 which she found dull. The other two, however, came 
 back again, and the work continued, but the talk was 
 entirely between the gentleman and lady, chiefly about 
 music for the choral society, and the voices of the 
 singers, about which Dolores neither knew nor cared. 
 
 By one o'clock the long tables were a pretty sight, 
 covered with piles of fruit and cakes, vases of flowers 
 and little flags, establishments of teacups at intervals, 
 and a bouquet and pretty card at every one of the 
 plates. 
 
 Then came early dinner at the house, and such 
 rest as could be had after it, till the pony-chaise, 
 waggonette, and Mrs. Blackburne's carriage came to 
 the door to convey to church all whom they could 
 carry, the rest walking. 
 
 The church was a sea of neat round hats, mostly 
 black, with a considerable proportion of feathers, tufts, 
 and flowers. On their dark dresses were pinned 
 rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to which 
 parish they belonged. There was a bright, short 
 service, in which the clear, high voices of the multi- 
 tudinous maidens quite overcame those of the choir 
 boys, and then an address, respecting which Constance 
 pronounced that " Canon Fremont was always so 
 sweet," and Dolores assented, without in the least 
 knowing what it had been about. 
 
 Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept 
 guard, in the walk from church, over the white-rosed 
 Silverton detachment ; but another shower was im- 
 pending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must
 
 110 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 not get wet, rushed up and packed her into the 
 waggonette, where Dolores was climbing after, when 
 at a touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield looked round. 
 
 "Dolores," she said, "you forget that Miss Hacket 
 walked to church." 
 
 Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black 
 as thunder, and Miss Hacket protested that she was 
 not tired, and could not leave her girls. 
 
 " Never mind the girls, I will look after them ; I 
 meant to walk. Don't stand on the step. Come 
 down," she added sharply, but not in time, for the 
 horses gave a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, 
 down tumbled Dolores, or would have tumbled, but 
 that she was caught between her aunt and Miss 
 Hacket, who with one voice admonished her never 
 to do that again, for there was nothing more dangerous. 
 Indeed, there was more anger in Lady Merrifield's 
 tone than her niece had yet heard, and as there was 
 no making out that there was the least injury to the 
 girl, she was forced to walk home, in spite of ail Miss 
 Hacket's protestations and refusals, which had nearly 
 ended in her exposing herself to the same peril as 
 Dolores, only that Lady Merrifield fairty pushed her 
 in and shut the door on her. Nothing would have 
 compensated to Dolores but that her Constance should 
 have jumped out to accompany her and bewail her 
 aunt's cruelty, but devotion did not reach to such an 
 extent. Her aunt, however, said in a tone that might 
 be either apology or reproof — 
 
 " My dear, I could not let poor Miss Hacket walk
 
 vii.] G.F.S. Ill 
 
 after all she has clone and with all she has to do 
 to-day." 
 
 Dolores vouchsafed no answer, but Aunt Jane 
 said — 
 
 "All which applies doubly to you, Lily." 
 " Not a bit ; I am not run about like all of you," 
 she answered, brightly. " Besides, it is such fun ! I 
 feel like Whit Monday at Beechcroft ! Don't you 
 remember the pink and blue glazed calico banners 
 crowned with summer snowballs ? And the big 
 drum ? What a nice-looking set of girls ! How 
 pleasant to see rosy, English faces tidily got up ! 
 They were rosy enough in Ireland, but a great deal 
 too picturesque. Now these are a sort of flower of 
 
 maidenhood ' ' 
 
 " You are getting quite poetical, Lily." 
 " It's the effect of walking in procession — there's 
 something quite exhilarating in it ; ay, and of having 
 a bit of old Beechcroft about me. Do tell me who 
 that lady is ; I ought to know her, I'm sure ! Oh, 
 Mrs. Smith, good morning. How many girls have 
 you brought ? Oh ! the crimson rosettes, are they ? 
 York and Lancaster ? — indeed. I'm glad we have 
 some shelter for them ; I'm afraid there is another 
 shower. Have you no umbrella, my dear? Come 
 under mine." 
 
 It was a fierce scud of hail, hitting rather than 
 wetting, but Dolores had the satisfaction of declaring 
 the edges of her dress to be damp and going off to 
 change it, though Aunt Jane pinched the kilting and
 
 112 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 said the damp was imperceptible, and Wilfred 
 muttered, " Made of sugar, only not so sweet." 
 
 In fact, she hoped that Constance, who had told of 
 her hatred to these great functions and willingness to 
 do anything to avoid them, would avail herself of the 
 excuse ; but though the young lady must have seen 
 her go, she never attempted to follow ; and Dolores, 
 feeling her own room dull, came clown again to find 
 the drawing-room empty, and on the next gleam of 
 sunshine, she decided on going to seek her friend. 
 
 What a hum and buzz pervaded the stable-yard ! 
 There was the coach-house with all its great doors 
 open, and the rows of girls awakening from their first 
 shy and hungry silence into laughter and talking. 
 There were big urns and fountains steaming, active 
 hands filling cups, all the cousins, all their congeners, 
 and four or five clergymen acting as waiters, Aunt 
 Adeline pouring out tea at the upper table for any 
 associate who had time to swallow it, and Constance 
 Hacket talking away to a sandy-haired curate, without 
 so much as seeing her friend ! Only Wilfred, at 
 sight of his cousin again, getting up a violent mock 
 cough, declaring that he thought she had gone to bed 
 with congealed lungs or else Brown Titus, as the old 
 women called it. His mother, however, heard the 
 cough — which, indeed, was too remarkable a sound not 
 to attract any one — and with a short, sharp word to 
 him to take care, she put Dolores down under Aunt 
 Ada's wing, and provided her with a lovely peach and 
 a delicious Bath bun. Constance just looked up and
 
 vii.] G.F.S. 113 
 
 nodded, saying, "You dear little tiling, I couldn't 
 think what was become of you," and then went on 
 with her sanely curate, about — what was it ? — Dolores 
 knew not, only that it seemed very interesting, and 
 she was left out of it. 
 
 Down came the rain, a hopeless downpour, and 
 there was a consultation among the elders, some 
 laughing, some doubtful looks, and at last Harry, with 
 Macrae and one of the curates, disappeared. Then 
 grace was sung, and speeches followed — one by the 
 rector, Mr. Leadbitter, fatherly and prosy ; — a paper 
 read by the Branch Secretary, about affairs in general ; 
 and a very amusing speech by Miss Mohun, full of 
 anecdotes of example and warning. " You know," 
 she said, " all the school story-books end — when the 
 grown-up books marry their people — with the good 
 girl going out to service under her young lady, and 
 there she lives happy ever after ! But some of us 
 know better ! We don't know how far the marrying 
 ones always do live very happy ever after " 
 
 " For shame, Jenny ! " muttered Lady Merrifleld. 
 
 " But," went on Miss Mohun, " even you that have 
 been lucky enough to get under your own young ladies 
 know that life here is all new beginnings at the bottom, 
 just as when you were very proud of 3-ourselves for 
 getting out of the infant school, you found it was only 
 being at the bottom of the upper one ; and I can tell the 
 twelve-year-olds — I see some of them — that it is often 
 a finer thing to be at the head of the school than the 
 last in the house. Ay, you've got to work up there 
 
 vol. 1. 1
 
 114 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 again, and it is a long business and a steady business, 
 but it is to be done. I knew a girl, thirty-five years 
 ago, that my sister-in-law took from school, and she 
 was not a genius either, and I am quite sure she 
 could not do rule-of-three, nor tell what is the capital 
 of Dahomey, as I dare say every one here can do, but 
 I'll tell you what she did, and that was, her best, and 
 there she has been ever since ; and the last time I 
 saw her was sitting up in her housekeeper's room, in 
 her silk gown, with her master's grandchildren 
 hanging about her, respected and loved by us all. 
 And I knew another, a much cleverer girl at school, 
 with prettier ways to begin with, but — I'm sorry to 
 say, her fingers were too clever, and it was not very 
 happy ever after, though she did right herself." And 
 then Aunt Jane went on to the difficulties of having 
 to deal with such quantities of pots and pans, and 
 knives and forks, and cloths and brushes, each with a 
 use of its very own, just as if she had been a scullery- 
 maid herself; telling how sense and memory must be 
 brought to bear on these things just as much as in 
 analyzing a sentence, and how even those would not 
 do without the higher motive of faithfulness to Him 
 whose servants we all are. Her finish was a picture 
 of the roving servant girl, always saying, "I don't like 
 it," and always seeking novelty, illustrated by her 
 experience of a little maid who left one place because she 
 could not sleep alone, and another because the little 
 girl slept with her, a third because it was so lonesome, 
 and a fourth because it was so noisy, and quitted her
 
 vil] G.F.S. 115 
 
 fifth within a half year because she could not eat twice 
 cooked meat. 
 
 Aunt Jane varied her voice in the most comical 
 way, and the girls, as well as all her audience, laughed 
 heartily. 
 
 "Bravo, Jenny!" said a voice close to her, and 
 a gentleman with a rather bald head, a fluffy, light 
 beard touched with white, dancing eyes, and a slim, 
 youthful figure, was seen standing in the group. 
 
 Lady Merrifield and her sisters cried with one glad 
 voice, " Oh ! Eotherwood ! " holding out their hands. 
 
 " Yes. I found I'd a few hours between the trains, 
 so I ran down to look you up. I met Harry at the 
 house, and he told me I should find Jane qualifying 
 for the female parliament." 
 
 " It's such a pity you should fall on all this tur- 
 moil," said Aunt Ada. 
 
 " Pity ! I wouldn't have missed Jenny's wisdom 
 for the world. What is it, Lily ? Temperance, or 
 have you set up a Salvation Army ? 
 
 " G.F.S. , of course, you Eotherwood of old ! And 
 now you are come, you shall save me from what has 
 been my bugbear for the last week. You shall give 
 the premiums." 
 
 " Come, it's no use making faces and pretending 
 you know nothing about it," added Miss Mohun. " I 
 know very well that Florence is deep in it ! " 
 
 "Ay, they'll have you over to repeat that splendid 
 harangue about pots and pans ! " said he, bowing at 
 Lady Merrifield's introductions of him to the by-
 
 116 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 standers, and obediently accepting the sheaf of enve- 
 lopes, while Mr. Leadbitter made it known that the 
 premiums would be given by the Marquess of Rother- 
 wood. Certainly it was a much more lively business 
 than if Lady Merrifield had performed it, for he had 
 something droll to observe to each girl. One he pre- 
 tended to envy, telling her he had worked hard for 
 many a year, and never got such a card as that for 
 it — far less five shillings. Another he was sure kept 
 her pans bright, and always knew which was which ; 
 a very little one was asked if she had gone from her 
 cradle, and so on, always sending them away with 
 a broad smile, and professing great respect for the 
 three seven-year-card maidens who came up last. 
 Then in a concluding speech he demanded — where were 
 the premiums for the mistresses, who, he was quite 
 sure, deserved them quite as much or more than the 
 maids ! 
 
 While everybody was still laughing, Lady Merrifield 
 asked Mr. Leadbitter to explain that as it was still 
 raining hard, she must ask all to adjourn to the great 
 loft over the stable, where they could enjoy them- 
 selves. Each associate was to gather her own flock 
 and bring them in order. Lady Merrifield said she 
 would lead the way, Lord Eotherwood coming with 
 her, picking up little Primrose in his arms to carry 
 her upstairs to the loft. 
 
 Every one was moving. Dolores was among a crowd 
 of strangers. She heard them saying how delightful 
 Lord Eotherwood was, and charming and handsome
 
 vii.] G.F.S. 117 
 
 and graceful Lady Merrifield, with her beautiful eyes. 
 It worried Dolores, who thought it rather foolish to 
 be pretty, except in the case of the persecuted orphan, 
 and, moreover, admiration of her aunt always seemed 
 to her disparagement of her mother. And where was 
 Constance ? 
 
 She followed the stream, and, climbing some stairs, 
 came out into a large, long, empty hay-loft, over what 
 had once been hunting stables — the children's wet- 
 day play-place. The deputation despatched to the 
 house had managed to get up there the schoolroom 
 piano, and one of the curates sat down to it, and 
 began playing dance music, while Miss Mohun, Miss 
 Hacket, and the other ladies began arranging couples 
 for a country dance — all girls, of course, except that 
 Lord Eotherwood danced with the tiny premium girl, 
 and Harry with Primrose. Wilfred and Fergus could 
 not be incited to make the attempt ; Mysie offered 
 herself to Dolores, but in vain. " I hate dancing," 
 was all the answer she got, and she went off to 
 persuade Lois, the nursery girl. Constance Hacket 
 arranged herself on a chair, and looked out from 
 between two curates ; there was no getting at her. 
 
 Then there came a pause ; Lord Eotherwood spoke 
 to Gillian, and must have asked her to point Dolores 
 out, for presently he made his way to the little dark 
 figure in the window, and, kindly laying his hand on 
 her shoulder, asked whether she had heard from her 
 father yet. 
 
 "No, I suppose you can't," he added. "It is a
 
 118 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 great break-up for you ; but you are a lucky girl to 
 be taken in here ! It reminds me of what Beechcroft 
 used to be to me when I was a stray fish, though not 
 quite so lonely as you are. Make the most of it, 
 for there aren't many in these days like Aunt Lily 
 there ! " 
 
 "He little knows," thought Dolores, as a waltz 
 began to be played. 
 
 " They want an example," he said. " Come along. 
 You know how, I'm sure — a Londoner like you ! " 
 
 Pairs were whirling about the floor in full career in 
 a short time, to the astonishment of other maidens 
 who had never seen dancing in their lives. Dolores, 
 afraid to refuse, and certainly flattered, really was 
 wonderfully exhilarated and brightened by her career 
 with her good-natured cousin. 
 
 "I do believe Cousin Eotherwood has shaken her 
 out of the dumps," observed Gillian to Aunt Jane, 
 who returned — 
 
 " He can do it if any one can." 
 
 The funny thing was the effect upon Constance, 
 who, in the next pause, shook off her curates, ad- 
 vanced to Dolores, who was recovering her breath 
 under the window, called her a dear thing whom she 
 had not been able to get to all this time, sat rather 
 forward with an arm round her waist for the next 
 half-hour, and, when Sir Roger de Coverley was 
 getting up, proposed that they should be partners, 
 but not till she had seen Lord Eotherwood pair him- 
 self off with Mysie.
 
 til] G.F.S. 119 
 
 " I must," said he to Lady Merrifield, " it's so like 
 dancing with honest Phyl." 
 
 ( ' The greatest compliment you could have, Mysie," 
 said her mother, looking very much pleased. 
 
 The last yellow patches of evening sunshine on the 
 sloping roof faded ; watches were looked at, the music 
 turned to the National Anthem, everybody stood up, 
 or stood still, and sung it. Then at the close, Mr. 
 Leadbhter stood by the piano and said — 
 
 " One word more, my young friends. Some of you 
 may have been surprised at this evening's amusement, 
 but we want you to understand that there is no harm 
 in dancing itself, provided that the place, the manner, 
 and the companions are fit. I hope that you will all 
 prove the truth of my words, by not taking this 
 pleasant evening as an excuse for running into places 
 of temptation. Now, good night, with many thanks to 
 Lady Merrifield for the happy day she has given us." 
 
 A voice added, "Three cheers for Lady Merrifield ! " 
 and the G.F.S. showed itself by no means backward 
 in the matter of cheering. There was a hunting up 
 of ulsters and umbrellas ; one associate after another 
 got her flock together, and clattered downstairs, 
 either to get into vans, to walk to the station, or to 
 disperse to their homes in the town. 
 
 Meantime Lord Eotherwood had time to explain 
 that he was on his way to fetch his wife home from 
 some German baths, where she had gone to recruit 
 after the season ; and, as he meant to cross at night, 
 had come to spend a few hours with his cousins.
 
 120 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 There was still an hour to spare, during which Lady 
 Merrifield insisted that he must have more solid food 
 than G.F.S. provided. 
 
 "Lily," said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to 
 the house together, "it strikes me that Eotherwood 
 could satisfy your mind ahout that letter. He would 
 know the handwriting. You remember a certain 
 brother — very much in law — of Maurice's ? " 
 
 "I have reason to do so," said Lord Eotherwood. 
 (i You don't mean that he has been troubling Lily ? " 
 
 " No ; but from the nature of the animal it is much 
 to be apprehended that he will," said Miss Mohun, 
 " if he knows that the child is here." 
 
 " In fact," said Lady Merrifield, "Jane has made 
 me suppress, till examination, a letter to her, in case 
 it should be from him. It is a horrid thing to do. 
 What do you think, Eotherwood ? " 
 
 " There should be no correspondence. Did not 
 Maurice warn you ? Then he ought. Look here, 
 Lily. His wife — under strong compulsion from the 
 fellow, I should think — begged me to find some 
 employment for him. I got him a secretaryship to 
 our Board of — what d'ye call it ? I'll do Maurice the 
 justice to say that he was considerably cool about it ; 
 but the end of it was that there was an unaccountable 
 deficit, and my lady said it served me right. I was 
 a fool, as I always am, and gave way to the poor 
 woman about not bringing it home to him. And she 
 insisted on making it up to me by degrees — out of 
 her literary work, I fancy— for I don't think Maurice
 
 vii.] G.F.S. . 121 
 
 knew the extent of the peculation. Ever since 
 I've been getting begging letters from the fellow at 
 intervals. If he has the impertinence to molest you, 
 Lily, simply refer him to me." 
 
 " And if he writes to the child ? " 
 
 "Return him the letter. Say she can have no 
 such thing without her father's consent." 
 
 "Is this a case in point?" said Lady Merrifield, 
 producing the letter. 
 
 " No," said he, holding it up in the waning light. 
 *' I know the fellow's fist too well ! This is a gentle- 
 man's hand." 
 
 " What a relief ! " said Lady Merrifield. 
 
 "Nay, don't be in a hurry," said Miss Mohun. 
 "Don't give it to her unopened. Your only safety 
 is in maintaining your right to see all the child's 
 letters, except what her father specified." 
 
 " Don't you wish it was you, Brownie ? " asked her 
 cousin. 
 
 " I hate it ! " said Lady Merrifield ; " but I suppose 
 I ought ! However, there's no harm in this, that's 
 a comfort ; it is simply that the gentleman that the 
 house is let to has found this note to her somewhere 
 about, and thinks she would wish to have it. I think 
 it is her mother's hand. How nice of him ! " 
 
 " Now, Lily, don't go and be too apologetic," said 
 Jane. "Assert your right, or you'll have it all over 
 again." 
 
 " Without Jenny to do prudence," said Lord Rother- 
 wood, while Lady Merrifield, hardly hearing either of
 
 122 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 them, hurried on in search of her niece, but they 
 would have been satisfied if they could have heard 
 her. 
 
 "My clear, here's your letter. I am so sorry to 
 have been too much hindered to look at it before. 
 You must not mind, Dolly. I know it is very dis- 
 agreeable ; but every one who has the care of 
 precious articles like young ladies is bound to look 
 after them." 
 
 Dolores took the letter with a kind of acknowledg- 
 ment, but no more, for its detention offended her, and 
 she was aggrieved at the prospect of future inspection, 
 as another cruel stroke inflicted upon her. 
 
 Aunt Adeline was found in the drawing-room, where 
 she had entertained such ladies as were afraid of the 
 clamp, or who did not approve of the dancing, and 
 would not look on at it. Thence all went off to a 
 merry meal, where the elders plunged into old stories, 
 and went on capping each others' recollections and 
 making fun, to the extreme delight of the young folk, 
 who had often been entertained with tales of Beech- 
 croft. Aunt Ada declared that she had not laughed 
 so much for ten years, and Aunt Jane declared that 
 it was too bad to lower their dignity and be so absurd 
 before all these young things. 
 
 " It's having four of the old set together ! " said 
 Lord Eotherwood; "a chance one doesn't get every 
 day. I wonder how soon Maurice and Phyllis will 
 meet." 
 
 " It depends on whether the ZenoUa touches at
 
 vii.] G.F.S. 123 
 
 Auckland before going to the Fijis," said Lady Mem- 
 field. 
 
 " There is at least a sort of neighbourhood between 
 them," said Miss Mohun, "though it maybe about as 
 close as between us and Sicily." 
 
 " She is looking out for Maurice," said Aunt Ada. 
 " She wrote, only it was too late, to propose his 
 bringing Dolores to be at least nearer to him." 
 
 "Just like Phyllis!" ejaculated the marquess. 
 " You have one of your flock with something of her 
 countenance, Lily." 
 
 " I am so glad you see it, Eotherwood. It is what 
 I am always trying to believe in, and I hope the like- 
 ness is a little within as well as without — but we poor 
 creatures who have been tumbled about the world get 
 sophisticated, and can't attain to the sweet, blunder- 
 ing freshness of ' Honest Simplicity.' " 
 
 "It is a plant that must be spontaneous — can't be 
 grown to order." 
 
 "His lordship's carriage at the door," announced 
 Macrae. 
 
 " Ah, well ! Trains must be caught, I suppose. 
 I'm glad you're settled here, Lilias. I feel as if a sort 
 of reflex of old Beechcroft were attainable now." 
 
 "I hope it won't be a G.F.S. day next time you 
 come ! " 
 
 " Oh, it was very jolly. I shall bring my child next 
 time, if I can get her out of the clutches of the gover- 
 nesses for a day, but it is a hard matter. They look 
 daggers at me if I put my head into the schoolroom."
 
 124 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "Yon always were a dangerous element there, you 
 know." 
 
 " Poor dear Eleanor ! "What did I not make her go 
 through ! But she never went the length of one of my 
 lady's governesses, who declared that she had as 
 much call to interfere in my stable, as I had with her 
 schoolroom." 
 
 " What mischief were you doing there ? " 
 
 "Well, if you must know, I was enlivening a very 
 dry and Croniwellian abridgment with some of Lily's 
 old cavalier anecdotes, so Lily was at the bottom of 
 it, you see." 
 
 "But did she fall on you then and there ? " 
 
 " No, no. I trust my beard is too grey for that. 
 But she looked at me with impressive dignity such as 
 neither poor little Fly nor I could stand, and after- 
 wards betook herself to Victoria, who, I am happy to 
 say, sent her to the right about." 
 
 " As I am about to do," said Lady Merrifield ; " for 
 if you don't miss your train, it will be by cruelty to 
 animals. No, you've not got time to shake hands 
 with all that rabble. Be off with you." 
 
 "Ah ! I shall tell Victoria that if she sees me to- 
 morrow it's all owing to your unpitying punctuality," 
 said he, shaking himself into his overcoat. 
 
 "Dear old fellow! " said Lady Merrifield, as she 
 turned from the front door, while he drove off. "He 
 is like a gust of old Beechcroft air ! But I should 
 think Victoria had a handful." 
 
 " She knew what she was doing," said Aunt Ada.
 
 vit.] G.F.S. 125 
 
 "I always thought she married him for the sake of 
 breaking him in." 
 
 " And very well she has done it, too," returned Aunt 
 Jane. " Only now and then he gets a holiday, and 
 then the real creature breaks out again. But it is 
 much better so. He would not have been of half so 
 much good otherwise." 
 
 Lady Merrifield looked from one to the other, but 
 said no more, for all the young folks were round her ; 
 but every one was so much tired, children, servants, 
 and all, that prayers were read early, and all went to 
 their rooms. Yet, tired as she was, Lady Merrifield 
 sat on in her sister Jane's room, in her dressing-gown, 
 talking according to another revival of olden time. 
 
 "What did Ada mean about Rotherwood ? Isn't 
 he happy ? " 
 
 '' Oh yes, very happy ; and it is much the best 
 thing that could have happened. It is only another 
 of the proofs that life is very long, especially for 
 men." 
 
 " Come, now, tell me all about it. You don't know 
 how often I feel as if I had been buried and dug up 
 again." 
 
 " There are things one can't write about. Poor 
 fellow ! he never really wanted to marry anybody but 
 Phyllis." 
 
 " No ! you don't mean it ! I never knew it." 
 
 " No, for you were in the utmost parts of the earth ; 
 and he was very good, so that I don't believe honest 
 Phyl herself, or any one without eyes, guessed it ; but
 
 120 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 he had it all out with our father, who hegged him, 
 almost on that allegiance he had always shown, to 
 abstain from beginning about it. You see, not only 
 are they first cousins, but our mother and his father 
 both were consumptive, and there was dear Claude 
 even then regularly breaking down every winter, and 
 Ada needing to be looked after like a hothouse plant. 
 I'm sure, when I think of the last generation of 
 Devereuxes, I wonder so many of us have been tough 
 enough to weather the dangerous age ; and there had 
 been an alarm or two about Rotherwood himself. 
 Well, he was very good, half from obedience, half from 
 being convinced that it would be a selfish thing, and 
 especially from being wholly convinced that Phyl's 
 feelings were not stirred. That was the way I came 
 to know about it, for papa took me out for a drive in 
 the old gig to ask what I thought about her heart, and 
 I could truly and honestly say she had never found it, 
 cared for Rotherwood just as she did for Regie, and 
 was not the sort to think whether a man was attentive 
 to her. Besides, she was eighteen, and he thirty-one, 
 and she thought him venerable. I believe, if he had 
 asked her then, she might have taken him (because 
 Cousin Rotherwood wished it), but she would have had 
 to fall in love in the second place instead of the first. 
 Well, he was very good, poor old fellow, except that 
 by way of taking himself off, and diverting his mind, 
 he went deer-stalking with such unnecessary vehe- 
 mence that a Scotch mist was very nearly the death of 
 him, and he discovered that he had as many lungs as
 
 vil] G.F.S. 127 
 
 other people. If you could only have seen our dear old 
 father then, how distressed and how guilty he felt, and 
 how he used to watch Phyllis, and examine Alethea 
 and me as to whether she seemed more than reason- 
 ably concerned for Rotherwood. I really think the 
 anxiety of that winter aged him more than anything 
 else, and that if Rotherwood had come and hit the 
 right nail on the head he might have carried her off." 
 
 "But he didn't." 
 
 "No; for, you see, he was ill enough to convince 
 himself, as well as other people, that he was a con- 
 sumptive Devereux after all." 
 
 " Oh yes ! I remember the shock with which I 
 heard like a doom that he was going the way of the 
 others ; and then he and the dear Claude came out 
 in his yacht to us at Gibraltar, and were so bright ! 
 We had a wonderful little journey into Spain together, 
 and how Jasper enjoyed it ! Little did I think I was 
 never to see Claude here again. But it was true, was 
 it not, that all Rotherwood's care gave the dear fellow 
 much more comfort — perhaps kept him longer ? " 
 
 "I am sure it was so. Rotherwood soon got over 
 his own attack — the missing an English winter was 
 all he needed ; but he would hear of nothing but 
 devoting himself to Claude. Papa and Claude were 
 both uneasy at his going off from all his cares and 
 duties, but I believe— and Claude knew it — that he 
 actually could not settle down quietly while Phyllis 
 remained unmarried, and that having Claude to nurse 
 and carry about from climate to climate was the com-
 
 128 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 fort of his life. Or, I believe, dear Claude would have 
 been glad to have been left in peace to do what he 
 could. Well, then Phyllis and Ada went to stay in 
 the Close with Emily, and Ada wrote conscious letters 
 and came home bridling and blushing about Captain 
 May, so that we were quite prepared for his turning 
 up at Beechcroft, but not at all for what I saw before 
 he had been ten minutes in the house, that it was 
 Phyllis that he meant, and had meant all along! 
 Dear Harry! it almost made up for its not being 
 Eotherwood. Well, poor Ada ! It hadn't gone too 
 deep, happily, and I opened her eyes in time to hinder 
 any demonstration that could have left pain and 
 shame — at least, I think so ; but poor Ada has had 
 too many little fits for one to have told much more 
 than another. I believe Phyl did tell Harry that he 
 meant Ada, but she let herself be convinced to the 
 contrary ; and the only objection I have to it is his 
 having taken that appointment at Auckland, and 
 carried her out of reach of any of us. However, it 
 was better for Piotherwood, and when she was gone, 
 and his occupation over with our dear Claude, his 
 mother was always at him to let her see him married 
 before she died. And so he let her have her way. 
 No, don't look concerned. Lady Piotherwood is an 
 excellent, good woman, just the wife for him, and he 
 knows it, and does as she tells him most faithfully 
 and gratefully. They are pattern-folk from top to 
 toe, and so is the boy. But the girl ! He would 
 have his way, and named her Phyllis — Fly he calls
 
 vil] g.f.s. 129 
 
 her. She is a little skittish elf — Eothenvood himself 
 all over ; and doesn't he worship her ! and doesn't he 
 think it a holiday to carry her off to play pranks 
 with ! and isn't he happy to get amongst a good 
 lot of us, and be his old self again ! " 
 
 YOL. I.
 
 130 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 MV PERSECUTED UNCLE. 
 
 Dolores was allowed to go to Casement Cottage on 
 Suncla} 7 . It was always rather an awful thing to her 
 to get through the paddock when the farmer's cattle 
 were turned out there. She did not mind it so much 
 in the broad road and in the midst of a large party, 
 with Hal among them, and no dogs ; but alone with 
 only one companion, and in the easy path which was 
 the shortest way to the cottage, she winced and 
 trembled at the little black, shaggy Scotch oxen, 
 with white horns and faces that looked to her very 
 wild and fierce. 
 
 " Oh, Gillian, those creatures ! Can't we go the 
 other way ? " 
 
 "No; it is a great deal further round, and there's 
 no time. They won't hurt. The farmer engaged not 
 to turn out anything vicious here." 
 
 " But how can he be sure ? " 
 
 " Well, don't come if you don't like it," said Gillian, 
 impatiently. " It is your own concern. I must go." 
 
 Dolores did not like the notion of Constance bein<r
 
 viil] MY PEESECUTED UNCLE. 131 
 
 told that she would not come because she was afraid 
 of the oxen. She thought it very unkind of Gillian, 
 but she came, and kept carefully on the side furthest 
 from the formidable animals. x\nd Gillian really was 
 forbearing. She did make allowances for the London- 
 bred girl's fears ; and the only thing she did was, that 
 when one of the animals lifted up its head and looked, 
 and Dolores made a spring as if to run away, she 
 caught the girl's arm, crying, " Don't ! That's the 
 very way to make him run after you." 
 
 They got safe out of the paddock at last, and rang 
 at the door. They were both kissed, Dolores with 
 especial affectionateness, because the good ladies 
 pitied her so much ; and then while Miss Hacket 
 and Gillian went off to their class, Constance took 
 Dolores up into her own room, and began to tell 
 her how disappointed she was not to have seen more 
 of her at the Festival. 
 
 " But those curates would not let me alone. I was 
 obliged to attend to them." 
 
 And then she was very eager to know all about 
 Lord Eotherwood, which rather amazed Dolores, who 
 had been in the habit of hearing her father mention 
 him as " that mad fellow Eotherwood," while her 
 mother always spoke with contempt of people who 
 ran after lords and ladies, and had been heard to 
 say that Lord Eotherwood himself was well enough, 
 but his wife was a mere fine lady. 
 
 But Dolores had a matter on which she was very 
 anxious.
 
 132 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " Connie, do they always read one's letters first ? 
 I mean the old people, like Aunt Lily." 
 
 " What ! has she been reading your letters ? " 
 
 " She says she always shall, except father's and 
 Maude Sefton's, because papa spoke to her about 
 that. She took a letter of mine the other day, and 
 never let me have it till the evening, and I am sure 
 Aunt Jane put her up to it." 
 
 " You poor darling ! " exclaimed Constance. " Was 
 it anything you cared about ? " 
 
 "Oh no — not that — but there might be. And I 
 want to know whether she has the right." 
 
 " I should not have thought Lady Merrifield would 
 have been so like an old schoolmistress. Miss Dormer 
 always did, the old cat ! where I went to school," said 
 Constance. "We did hate it so! She looked over 
 every one's letters, except parents', so that we never 
 could have anything nice, except by a chance or 
 so." 
 
 " It is tyranny," said Dolores, solemnly. " I do not 
 see why one should submit to it." 
 
 "We had dodges," continued Constance, warming 
 with the history of her school-days, and far too eager 
 to talk to think of the harm she might be doing to 
 the younger girl. " Sometimes, when a lot of us 
 went to a shop with one of the governesses, one would 
 slip out and post a letter. Fraulein was so short- 
 sighted, she never guessed. We used to call her the 
 jolly old Kafer. But Mademoiselle was very sharp. 
 She once caught Alice Bell, so that she had to make
 
 viil] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 133 
 
 an excuse and say she had dropped something. You 
 see, she really had — the letter into the slit." 
 
 "But that was an equivocation." 
 
 " Oh, you darling scrupulous, long-worded child ! 
 You aren't like the girls at Miss Dormer's, only she 
 drove us to it, you know. You'll be horribly shocked, 
 but I'll tell you what Louie Preston did. There was 
 a young man in the town whom she had met at a 
 picnic in the holidays — a clerk, he was, at the bank — 
 and he used to put notes to her under the cushions 
 at church ; but one unlucky Sunday, Louie had a 
 cold and didn't go, and she told Mabel Blisset to 
 bring it, and Mabel didn't understand the right place, 
 and went poking about, so that Miss Dormer found 
 it out, and there was such a row ! " 
 
 " Wasn't that rather vulgar ? " said Dolores. 
 
 "Well, he was only a clerk, but he was a duck of a 
 man, with regular auburn hair, you know. And he 
 sang ! We used to go to the Choral Society concerts, 
 and he sang ballads so beautifully, and always looked 
 at Louie ! " 
 
 " I should not care for anything of that sort," said 
 Dolores. " I think it is bad form." 
 
 "So it is," said Constance, seriously, "only one 
 can't help recollecting the fun of the thing, and what 
 one was driven to in those days. Is there any one you 
 are anxious to correspond with ? " 
 
 " Not in particular, only I can't bear to have Aunt 
 Lilias meddling with my letters ; and there's a poor 
 uncle of mine that I know would not like her, or any 
 of the Mohuns, to see his letters.
 
 134 THE TWO SIDES OP THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "Indeed! Your poor mamma's brother?" cried 
 Constance, full of curiosity. 
 
 "Mind, it is in confidence. You must never tell 
 any one." 
 
 " Never. Oh, you may trust me ! " cried Con- 
 stance. 
 
 "Her half-brother," said Dolores; and the girl 
 proceeded to tell Constance what she had told Maude 
 Sefton about Mr. Flinders, and how her mother had 
 been used to assist him out of her own earnings, and 
 how he had met her at Exeter station, and was so 
 disappointed to have missed her father. Constance 
 listened most eagerly, greatly delighted to have a 
 secret confided to her, and promising to keep it with 
 all her might. 
 
 "And now," said Dolores, "what shall I do? If 
 poor Uncle Alfred writes to me, Aunt Lilias will have 
 the letter and read it, and the Mohuns are all so stuck 
 up ; they will despise him, and very likely she will 
 never let me have the letter." 
 
 "Yes, but, dear, couldn't you write here, with my 
 things, and tell him how it is, and tell him to write 
 under cover tome?" 
 
 " Dear Connie ! How good you are ! Yes, that 
 would be quite delightful ! " 
 
 All the confidences and all the caresses had, how- 
 ever, taken quite as long as the G.F.S. class, and 
 before Constance had cleared a space on the table for 
 Dolores's letter, there was a summons to say that 
 Gillian was ready to go home.
 
 vni.] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 135 
 
 " So early ! " said Constance. " I thought you 
 would have had tea and stayed to evening service." 
 
 "I should like it so much" cried Dolores, remem- 
 bering that it would spare her the black oxen in the 
 cross-path, as well as giving her the time with her 
 friend. 
 
 So they went down with the invitation, but Gillian 
 replied that mamma always liked to have all together 
 for the Catechism, and that she could not venture to 
 leave Dolores without special permission. 
 
 " Quite right, my dear," said Miss Hacket. " Connie 
 would be very sorry to do anything against Lady 
 Merrifield's rules. We shall see you again in a day 
 or two." 
 
 And this is the way in which Constance kept her 
 friend's secret. When Miss Hacket had done her 
 further work with a G.F.S. young woman who needed 
 private instruction to prepare her for baptism, the 
 two sisters sat down to a leisurely tea before starting 
 for evensong ; in the first place, Constance detailed all 
 she had discovered as to the connection with Lord 
 Eotherwood, in which subject, it must be confessed, 
 good Miss Hacket took a lively interest, having never 
 so closely encountered a live marquess, " and so 
 affable," she contended; upon which Constance de- 
 clared that they were all stuck-up, and were very 
 unkind and hard to poor darling Dolores. 
 
 " I don't know. I cannot fancy dear Lady Merri- 
 field being unkind to any one, especially a dear girl 
 as good as an orphan," said Miss Hacket, who, if not
 
 136 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 the cleverest of women, was one of the best and most 
 warm-hearted. " And, indeed, Connie, I don't think 
 dear Gillian and Mysie feel at all unkindly to their 
 cousin." 
 
 "Ah! that's just like you, Mary. You never see 
 more than the outside, but then I am in dear Dolly's 
 confidence." 
 
 " What do you mean, Connie ? " said Miss Hacket, 
 eagerly. 
 
 Constance had come home from school with the 
 reputation of being much more accomplished than 
 her elder sister, who had grown up while her father 
 was a curate of very straitened means, and thus, 
 though her junior, she was thought wonderfully superior 
 in discernment and everything else. 
 
 "Well," said Constance, "what do you think of 
 Lady Merrifield sending her to bed for staying late 
 here that morning ? " 
 
 " That was strict, certainly ; but you know she sent 
 Mysie too. It was all my own thoughtlessness for 
 detaining them," said the good elder sister. "I was 
 so grieved ! " 
 
 "Yes," said Constance, "it sounds all very well to 
 say Mysie was treated in the same way, but in the 
 afternoon Mysie was allowed to go and make messes 
 with blackberry jam, while poor Dolly was kept shut 
 up in the schoolroom ! " 
 
 Constance did not like Lady Merrifield, who had 
 unconsciously snubbed some of her affectations, and 
 nipped in the bud a flirtation with Harry, besides
 
 viii.] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 137 
 
 calling off some of the curates to be helpful. But 
 Miss Hacket admired her neighbour as much as her 
 sister would permit, and made answer — 
 
 " It is so hard to judge, my dear, without knowing 
 all. Perhaps Mysie had finished her lessons," 
 
 " Ah ! I know you always are for Lady Merrifield ! 
 But what do you say, then, to her prying into all that 
 poor child's correspondence ? " 
 
 " My dear, I think most people do think it advisable 
 to have some check on young girls' letters. Perhaps 
 Dolores's father desired it." 
 
 " He never put on any restrictions," said Con- 
 stance. " I am sure he never would. Men don't. It 
 is always women, with their nasty, prying, tyrannous 
 instincts." 
 
 "I am sure," returned Mary, "one would not 
 think a child like Dolores Mohun could have anything 
 to conceal." 
 
 "But she has ! " cried Constance. 
 
 " No, my dear ! Impossible ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Hacket, looking very much shocked. "Why, she 
 can't be fourteen ! " 
 
 " Oh ! it is nothing of that sort. Don't think about 
 that, Mary." 
 
 " No, no, I know, Connie dear ; you would never 
 listen to any young girl's confidence of that kind — so 
 improper and so vulgar," said Miss Hacket, and 
 Constance did not think it necessary to reveal her 
 knowledge of the post-office under the cushions at 
 church, and other little affairs of that sort.
 
 138 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " It is her uncle," said Constance. " Her mother, 
 it seems, though quite a lady, was the daughter of a 
 professor, a very learned man, very distinguished, 
 and all that, but not of high family enough to please 
 the Mohuns, and they never were friendly with her, 
 or treated her as an equal." 
 
 " That couldn't have been Lady Merrifield," per- 
 severed Miss Hacket. " She lamented to me herself 
 that she had been out of England for so many years 
 that she had scarcely seen Mrs. Maurice Mohun." 
 
 "Well, there were the Miss Mohuns and all the 
 rest ! " said Constance. " Why, Dolores has only 
 once been at the family place. And her mother had 
 a brother, an author and a journalist, a very clever 
 man, and the Mohuns have always regularly perse- 
 cuted him. He has been very unfortunate, and Mrs. 
 Maurice Mohun has done her utmost to help him, 
 writing in periodicals and giving the proceeds to him. 
 Wasn't that sweet ? And now Dolores feels quite cut 
 off from him ; and she is so fond of him, poor darling, 
 for her mother's sake." 
 
 Tender-hearted as Miss Hacket was, she had seen 
 enough of life to have some inkling of what being 
 very unfortunate might sometimes mean. 
 
 "I should think," she said, " that Lady Merrifield 
 would never withhold from the child any letter it was 
 proper she should have, especially from a relation." 
 
 "Yes, but I tell you she did keep back a letter on 
 the festival day till she had looked at it. Poor 
 Dolores saw it come, and she saw a glance pass
 
 viii.] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 139 
 
 between her and Miss Mohun, and she is quite sure, 
 she says, her Aunt Jane had been poisoning her mind 
 about this poor persecuted uncle, and that she shall 
 never be allowed to hear from him." 
 
 " I don't suppose there can be much for him to say 
 to her," said Miss Hacket. Then, after a little reflec- 
 tion, "Connie, my dear, I really think you had better 
 not interfere. There may be reasons that this poor 
 child knows nothing about for keeping her aloof from 
 this uncle." 
 
 " Oh ! but her mother helped him." 
 
 " She was his sister. That was quite another 
 thing. Indeed, Connie," said Miss Hacket, more 
 earnestly, "I am quite sure that you will use your 
 influence — and you have a great deal of influence, 
 you know — most kindly by persuading this dear child 
 to be happy with the Merriflelds and submit to their 
 arrangements." 
 
 "You are infatuated with Lady Merrifield," mut- 
 tered Constance. " Ah ! how little you know ! " 
 
 Here the first warning note of the bell ended the 
 discussion, and Constance did not think it necessary 
 to tell her sister of the offer she had made to Dolores. 
 In her eyes, Mary, who was the eldest of the family, 
 had always been of the dull, grown-up, authoritative 
 faction of the elders, while she herself was still one of 
 the sweet junior party, full of antagonism to them, 
 and ready to elude them in any wa} r . Besides, she 
 had promised her darling Dolores ; and the thing was 
 quite romantic ; nor could any one call it blame-
 
 140 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 worthy, since it was nothing like a lover — not even 
 a young man, but only a persecuted uncle in distress. 
 
 So she awaited anxiously the next Sunday when 
 Dolores' letter was to be written in her room. To tell 
 the truth, Dolores could quite as easily have written 
 in her own, and brought down the letter in her 
 pocket, if she had been eager about the matter ; but 
 she was not, except under the influence of making 
 a grievance. She had never written to Uncle Alfred 
 in her life, nor he to her ; and his visits to her mother 
 had always led to something uncomfortable. Nor 
 would she have thought about the subject at all if it 
 had not been for the sore sense that she was cut off 
 from him, as she fancied, because he belonged to her 
 mother. 
 
 Nothing particular had happened that week. There 
 had been no very striking offences one way or the 
 other ; she was working better with her lessons and 
 understanding more of Miss Vincent's methods. She 
 perceived that they were thorough, and respected 
 them accordingly, and she had had the great satis- 
 faction of getting more good marks for French and 
 German than Mysie. She had become interested in 
 "The Old Oak Staircase," and began to look forward 
 to Aunt Lily's readings as the best part of the day. 
 But she had not drawn in the least nearer to any of 
 the family. She absolutely disliked, almost hated, 
 the quarter of an hour which Aunt Lily devoted to 
 her religious teaching every morning, though nobody 
 was present, not even Primrose. She nearly refused
 
 viii.] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 141 
 
 to learn, and said as badly as possible the very small 
 portions she was bidden to learn by heart, and she 
 closed her mind up against taking in the sense of the 
 very short readings and her aunt's comments on them. 
 It seemed to her to be treating her like a Sunday- 
 school child, and insulting her mother, who had never 
 troubled her in this manner. Her aunt said no word 
 of reproach, except to insist on attention and accuracy 
 of repetition; but there came to be an unusual gravity 
 and gentleness about her in these lessons, as if she 
 were keeping a guard over herself, and often a greatly 
 disappointed look, which exasperated Dolores much 
 more than a scolding. 
 
 Mysie had left off courting her cousin, rinding that 
 it only brought her rebuffs, and went her own way as 
 before, pleased and honoured when Gillian would 
 consort with her, but generally pairing with her 
 younger sister. 
 
 Dolores, though hitherto ungracious, missed her 
 attentions, and decided that they were " all falseness." 
 Wilfred absolutely did tease and annoy her whenever 
 he could, Fergus imitated him, and Yaletta enjoyed and 
 abetted him. These three had all been against her 
 ever since the affair of the arrow ; but Wilfred had not 
 many opportunities of tormenting her, for in the house 
 there was a perpetual quiet supervision and influence. 
 Mrs. Halfpenny was sure to detect traps in the passage, 
 or bounces at the door. Miss Vincent looked daggers 
 if other people's lesson books were interfered with. 
 Mamma had eyes all round, and nobody dared to
 
 142 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 tease or play tricks in her presence. Hal, Gillian, 
 and even Mysie always thwarted such amiable acts as 
 putting a dead wasp into a shoe, or snapping a book 
 in the reader's face ; while, as to venturing into the 
 general family active games, Dolores would have felt 
 it like rushing into a corobboree of savages ! 
 
 There was one wet afternoon when they could not 
 even get as far as to the loft over the stables ; at 
 least the little ones could not have done so, and it 
 was decided that it would be very cruel to them for 
 all the others to run off. and leave them to Mrs. 
 Halfpenny; so the plan was given up. 
 
 Partly because Lady Merrifield thought it very 
 amiable in Mysie and Valetta to make the sacrifice, 
 and partly to disperse the thundercloud she saw 
 gathering on Wilfred's brow, she not only consented 
 to a magnificent and extraordinary game at wolves 
 and bears all over the house, but even devoted herself 
 to keeping Mrs. Halfpenny quiet by shutting herself 
 into the nursery to look over ail the wardrobes, and 
 decide what was to "go down" in the family, and what 
 was to be given away, and what must be absolutely 
 renewed. It was an operation that Mrs. Halfpenny 
 enjoyed so much, that it warranted her to be deaf to 
 shrieks and trampling, and almost to forget the 
 chances of gathers and kilting being torn out, and 
 trap-doors appearing in skirts and pinafores. 
 
 All that time Dolores sat hunched up in her own 
 room, reading "Clare, or No Home," and realizing the 
 persecutions suffered by that afflicted child, who had
 
 viii.] MY PBBSEOUTBD UNCLE. 14.°> 
 
 just been nearly drowned in rescuing her wickedest 
 cousin, and was being carried into Lor noble grand- 
 father's house, there to be recognized by her golden 
 hair being exactly the colour it was when she was a 
 
 baby. 
 
 There were horrible growlings at times outside her 
 
 door, and she bolted it by way of precaution. One 
 
 there was a bounce against it, but Gillian's voice might 
 be ) i card in the distance calling off the wolves. 
 
 Then came a lull. The wolves and bears had 
 rushed up and down stairs till they were quite 
 exhausted and out of breath, especially as Primrose 
 had always been a cub, and gone in the arms of Hal 
 or Gillian ; Fergus at last had rolled down three 
 steps, and been caught by Wilfred, who, in his 
 character of bear, hugged and mauled him till his 
 screams grew violent. Harry had come to the rescue, 
 and it was decided that there had been enough of 
 this, and that there should be a grand exhibition of 
 tableaux from the history of England in the dining- 
 room, which of course mamma was to guess, with 
 the assistance of any one who was not required to act. 
 
 Mamma, ever obliging, hastily condemned two or 
 three sunburnt hats and ancient pairs of shoes, to be 
 added to the bundle for Miss Hacket's distribution. 
 and let herself be hauled off to act audience. 
 
 "But where's Dolly?" she asked, as she Looked at 
 the assemblage on the stairs. 
 
 " Bolted into her room, like a donkey," said Wilfred, 
 the last clause under his breath.
 
 144 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "Indeed, mamma, we did ask her, and gave her 
 the choice between wolves and bears," said Mysie. 
 
 "Unfortunately she is bear without choosing," 
 said Gill. 
 
 " A-sucking of her paws in a hollow tree," chimed 
 in Hal. 
 
 "Hush! hush!" said Lady Merrifield, looking 
 pained ; " perhaps the choice seemed very terrible to 
 a poor only child like that. We, who had the luck to 
 be one of many, don't know what wild cats you may 
 all seem to her." 
 
 " She never will play at anything," said Yal. 
 
 " She doesn't know how to," said Mysie. 
 
 " And won't be taught," added Wilfred. 
 
 "But that's very dreadful," exclaimed Lady Merri- 
 field. " Fancy a poor child of thirteen not knowing 
 how to play. I shall go and dig her out ! " 
 
 So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to 
 which Dolores answered — 
 
 " Can't you let me alone ? Go away," thinking it 
 a treacherous ruse of the enemy to effect an entrance ; 
 but when her aunt said — 
 
 " Is there anything the matter, my dear ? Won't 
 you let me in ? " she was obliged to open it. 
 
 "No, there's nothing the matter," she allowed. 
 " Only I wanted them to let me alone." 
 
 " They have not been rude to you, I hope." 
 
 Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention 
 the bouncing, so she allowed that no one had been 
 rude to her, but she hated romping, which she
 
 Tin.] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 145 
 
 managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt 
 for suffering it. 
 
 However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said — 
 "Ah! you have not been used to wholesome 
 exercise in large families. I dare say it seems for- 
 midable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale. 
 I can't allow you to stay stuffed up there, poking over 
 a book all the afternoon. It is very bad for you. We 
 are going to have some historical tableaux. They are 
 to have one set, and I thought perhaps you and I 
 would get up some for them to guess in turn." 
 
 Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she 
 did not quite dare to say she did not choose to make 
 herself ridiculous, and she knew there was authority 
 in the tone, so she followed and endured. 
 
 So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before 
 the bright grate in the dining-room, and having his 
 ears beautifully boxed. Also Ivnut and the waves, 
 which were graphically represented by letting the wind 
 in under the drugget, and pulling it up gradually over 
 his feet, but these, Mysie explained, were only for the 
 little ones. Eollo and his substitute doing homage 
 to Charles the Simple, were much more effective ; as 
 Gillian in that old military cloak of her father's, 
 which had seen as much service in the play-room as 
 in the field, stood and scowled at Wilfred in the crown 
 and mamma's ermine mantle, being overthrown by 
 Harry at his full height. 
 
 The excitement was immense when it was announced 
 that mamma had a tableau to represent with the 
 
 VOL. I. l
 
 146 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 help of Dolores, who was really warming a little to 
 the interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike 
 being dressed up with one of the boy's caps with three 
 ostrich feathers, to accompany her aunt in hood and 
 cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who had, together 
 with the bow and papa's old regimental sword, been 
 borrowed to personate the robber of Hexham. Every- 
 body screamed with ecstacy except Fergus, who 
 thought it very hard that he should not have been 
 Prince Edward instead of a stupid girl. 
 
 So, to content all parties, mamma undertook to 
 bring in as many as possible, and a series from the 
 life of Elizabeth Woodville was accordingly arranged. 
 
 She stood under the oak, represented by the hall 
 chandelier, with Fergus and Primrose as her infant 
 sons, and fascinated King Edward on the rocking- 
 horse, which was much too vivant, for it reared as 
 perpendicularly as it could, and then nearly descended 
 on its nose, to mark the rider's feelings. 
 
 Then, with her hair let down, which was stipulated 
 for, though, as she observed, nothing would make it 
 the right colour, she sat desolate on the hearth, sur- 
 rounded by as many daughters as could be spared 
 from being spectators, as her youngest son was borne 
 off from her maternal arms by a being as like a 
 cardinal as a Galway cloak, disposed trppet fashion, 
 could make him. 
 
 She could not be spared to put up her hair again 
 before she had to forget her maternal feelings and 
 be mere audience, while her two sons were smothered
 
 Tin.] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 147 
 
 by ITysie and Dolores, converted, into murderers one 
 and two by slouched hats. Fergus, a little afraid of 
 being actually suffocated, began to struggle, setting 
 off Wilfred, and the adventure was having a con- 
 clusion, which would have accounted for the authentic 
 existence of Perkin Warbeck, when — oh horror ! there 
 was a peal at the door-bell, and before there was a 
 moment for the general scurry, Herbert the button- 
 boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted 
 Mr. Leadbitter, to whom, as a late sixth standard 
 boy, he had a special allegiance, and, having spied 
 him coming, hurried to let him in out of the rain 
 instantly. 
 
 At least, such was the charitable interpretation. 
 Harry strongly suspected that the imp had been a 
 concealed spectator all the time, and had particularly 
 relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which, after 
 all, was much greater on the part of the Vicar than any 
 one else, as he was a rather stiff, old-fashioned gentle- 
 man. Lady Merrifiekl only laughed, said she had been 
 beguiled into wet day sports with the children, begged 
 him to excuse her for a moment or two, and tripped 
 away, followed by Gillian to help her, quickly reappear- 
 ing in her lace cap as the graceful matron, even before 
 Mr. Leadbitter had quite done blushing and quoting 
 to Harry "desipere in loco" as he was assisted off with 
 his dripping, shiny waterproof. 
 
 After all no harm would have been done if — Harry 
 and Gillian being both off guard — Valetta had not 
 exclaimed most unreasonably in her disappointment —
 
 148 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores 
 came in for it." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Murderer, you squashed my little finger 
 and all but smothered me," cried Fergus, throwing 
 himself on Dolores and dropping her down. 
 
 " Don't ! don't ! You know you mustn't," screamed 
 valiant Mysie, flying to the rescue. 
 
 " Murderers ! Murderers must be done for," shouted 
 Wilfred, falling upon Mysie. 
 
 "You shan't hurt my Mysie," bellowed Yaletta, 
 hurling herself upon Wilfred. 
 
 And there they were all in a heap, when Gillian, 
 summoned by the shrieks, came down from helping her 
 mother, pulled Valetta off Wilfred, Wilfred off Mysie, 
 Mysie off Fergus, and Fergus off Dolores, who was 
 discovered at the bottom with an angry, frightened 
 face, and all her hair standing on end. 
 
 "Are you hurt, Dolores? I am very sorry," said 
 Gillian. " It was very naughty. Go up to the 
 nursery, Fergus and Val, and be made fit to be 
 seen." 
 
 They obeyed, crestfallen. Dolores felt herself all 
 over. It would have been gratifying to have had 
 some injury to complain of, but she had fallen on the 
 prince's cushions, and there really was none. So she 
 only said, "No, I'm not hurt, though it is a wonder;" 
 and off she walked to bolt herself into her own room 
 again, there to brood on Yaletta's speech. 
 
 It worked up into a very telling and pathetic 
 history for Constance's sympathizing ears on Sunday,
 
 vin.] MY PERSECUTED UNCLE. 149 
 
 especially as it turned out to be one of the things not 
 reported to mamma. 
 
 And on that da}', Dolores, being reminded of it by 
 her friend, sent a letter to Mr. Flinders to the office 
 of the paper for which he worked in London, to tell 
 him that if he wished to write to her as he had 
 promised he must address under cover to Miss 
 Constance Hacket, Casement Cottage, as otherwise 
 Aunt Lilias would certainly read all his letters.
 
 L r )0 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Constance Hacket was very much excited about the 
 address to Dolores's letter to her uncle. She had not 
 noticed it at the moment that it was written, but she 
 did when she posted it ; and the next time she 
 could get her young friend alone, she eagerly demanded 
 what Mr. Flinders had to do with the Many Tongues, 
 and why her niece wrote to him at the office. 
 
 " He writes the criticisms," said Dolores, magnifi- 
 cently ; for though she despised pluming herself on 
 any connection with a marquess, she did greatly es- 
 teem that with the world of letters. " You know we 
 are all literary." 
 
 " Oh yes, I know ! But what kind of criticisms do 
 you mean ? I suppose it is a very clever paper ? " 
 
 " Of course it is," said Dolores, "but I don't think 
 I ever saw it. Father never takes in society papers. 
 I believe he does criticisms on plays and novels. I 
 know he always has tickets for all the theatres and 
 exhibitions. 
 
 She did not say how she did know it, for a pang 
 smote her as she remembered dimly a scene, when
 
 ix.] LETTERS. 151 
 
 lier father had forbidden her mother to avail herself 
 of escort thus obtained. Nor was she sure that the 
 word all was accurately the fact ; but it was delight- 
 ful to impress Constance, who cried, "How perfectly 
 delicious ! I suppose he can get any article into his 
 paper ! " 
 
 " Oh yes, of course," said Dolores. 
 
 " Did your dear mother write in it ? " 
 
 " No ; it was not her line. She used to write 
 metaphysical and scientific articles in the first-class 
 reviews and magazines, and the Many Tongues is 
 what they call a society paper, you know." 
 
 " Oh yes, I know. There are charming things about 
 the Upper Ten Thousand. They tell all that is going 
 on, but I hardly ever can see one. Mary won't take in 
 anything but Church Bells, and we get the Guardian 
 when it is a week old, and my brother James has 
 done with it." 
 
 " Dear me ! how dreadful ! " said Dolores, who had 
 been used to see all manner of papers come in as 
 regularly as hot rolls. "Why, you never can know 
 anything ! We didn't take in society papers, because 
 father does not care for gossip or grandees. He has 
 other pursuits. I can show you some of dear mother's 
 articles. There's one called ' Unconscious Volition,' 
 and another on the ' Progress of Species.' I'll bring 
 them down next time I come." 
 
 " Have you read them ? " 
 
 "No; they are too difficult. Mother was so very 
 clever, you know."
 
 152 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " She must have been," said Constance, with a 
 sigh ; " but how did she get them published ? " 
 
 " Sent them to the editor, of course," said Dolores. 
 " They all knew her, and were glad to get anything 
 that she wrote." 
 
 "Ah ! that is what it is to have an introduction," 
 sighed Constance. 
 
 " What ! have you written anything ? " cried 
 Dolores. 
 
 " Only a few little trifles," said Constance, 
 modestly. "It is a great secret, you know, a dead 
 secret." 
 
 " Oh ! I'll keep it. I told you my secret, you know, 
 so you might tell me yours." 
 
 And so to Dolores were confided sundry verses and 
 tales on which Constance had been wont to spend a 
 good deal of her time in that pretty sitting-room. She 
 had actually sent her manuscripts to magazines, but 
 she had heard no more of one, and the other had been 
 returned declined with thanks — all for want of an in- 
 troduction. Dolores was delighted to promise that as 
 soon as she heard from Uncle Alfred, she would get 
 him to patronize them, and the reading occupied 
 several Sunday afternoons. Dolores suggested, how- 
 ever, that a goody-goody story about a choir-boy lost 
 in the snow would never do for the Many Tongues, 
 and a far more exciting one was taken up, called 
 " The Waif of the Moorland," being the story of a 
 maiden, whom a wicked step-mother was suspected 
 of murdering, but who walked from time to time
 
 ix.] LETTERS. 153 
 
 like the " Woman in White." There was only too 
 much time for the romance; for weeks passed and 
 there was no answer from Mr. Flinders. It was 
 possible that he might have broken off his connection 
 with the paper, only then the letter would probably 
 have been returned; and the other alternative was 
 less agreeable, that it was not worth his while to 
 write to his niece. While as to Maude Sefton, 
 nothing was heard of her. Were her letters inter- 
 cepted ? And so the winter side of autumn set in. 
 Hal was gone to Oxford, and there had been time for 
 letters to come from Mr. Mohun, posted from Auck- 
 land, New Zealand, where he had made a halt with 
 his sister, Mrs. Harry May, otherwise Aunt Phyllis. 
 Dolores was very much pleased to receive her letter, 
 and to have it all to herself ; but, after all, she was 
 somewhat disappointed in it, for there was really 
 nothing in it that might not have been proclaimed 
 round the breakfast-table, like the public letters from 
 that quarter of the family who were at Eawul Pindee. 
 It told of deep-sea soundings and investigations into 
 the creatures at the bottom of the sea, of Portuguese 
 men-of-war, and albatrosses ; and there were some 
 orders to scientific-instrument makers for her to send 
 to them — a very improving letter, but a good deal 
 like a book of travels. Only at the end did the writer 
 say, " I hope my little daughter is happy among her 
 cousins, and takes care to give her aunt no trouble, 
 and to profit by her kind care. Your three cousins 
 here, Mary, Lily, and Maggie, are exceedingly nice
 
 154 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 girls, and much interested about you ; indeed, they 
 wish I had brought you with ine." 
 
 Dolores read her letter over and over and over, for 
 the pleasure of having something all to herself, and 
 never communicated a word about the iniscroscopic 
 monsters her father had described, but she drew her 
 head back and reflected, " He little knows," when he 
 spoke of her being happy among her cousins. 
 
 Lady Merrifield likewise received a letter, about 
 which she did not say much to her children, but Miss 
 Mohun, who had had a much longer one, came over 
 for the day to read this to her sister. In point of fact, 
 she had paired in childhood with her brother Maurice. 
 She had been his correspondent in school and college 
 days, and being a person never easily rebuffed, she 
 had kept up more intercourse with him and his wife 
 than any others of the family had done, and he had 
 preserved the habit of writing to her much more 
 freely and unreservedly than to any one else. So the 
 day after the New Zealand letters came, just as the 
 historical reading and needlework were in full force, 
 the schoolroom door was opened, and a brisk little 
 figure stood there in sealskin coat and hat. 
 
 Up jumped mamma. " Oh ! Jenny ! Brownie in- 
 deed ! How did you come ? You didn't walk from 
 the station ?" 
 
 " Yes, why not ? Otherwise I should have been too 
 soon, and have disturbed the lessons," said Aunt 
 Jane, in the intervals of the greeting kisses. " All 
 well with the Indian folks ? "
 
 ex.] LETTERS. 155 
 
 "Oh yes; they've come back from the emerald 
 valleys of Cashmere, and Alethea has actually sent 
 me a primrose — just like an English one — that they 
 found growing there. They did enjoy it so. Have 
 you heard from Maurice ? " 
 
 "Yes, I thought you would like to hear about 
 Phyllis, so, having enjoyed it with Ada, I brought it 
 over for further enjoyment with you." 
 
 " That's a dear old Brownie ! We've a good hour 
 before dinner. Shall we read it to the general public, 
 or shall we adjourn to the draAving-room ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I assure you it is very instructive. Quite as 
 much so as Miss Sewell's ' Rome.' " 
 
 And Aunt Jane, whom Gillian had aided in dis- 
 robing herself of her outdoor garments, was installed 
 by the fire, and unfolded a whole volume of thin, 
 mauve sheets in Mr. Mohun's tiny Greek-looking 
 handwriting. 
 
 It was a sort of journal of his voyage. There were 
 all the same accounts of the minute creatures that 
 are incipient chalk, and their exquisite cells, made, 
 some of coral, some of silex spicuhe from sponges ; 
 the same descriptions of phosphorescent animals, 
 medusae, and the like, that Dolores had thought her 
 own special treasure and privilege, only a great deal 
 fuller, and with the scientific terms untranslated — 
 indeed, Aunt Jane had now and then to stop and 
 explain, since she had always kept up with the course 
 of modern discovery. There was also much more 
 about his shipmates, with one or two of whom Mr.
 
 156 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Mohun had evidently made great friends. He told 
 his sister a great deal about them, and his conversa- 
 tions with them, whereas he had only told Dolores 
 about one little midshipman getting into a scrape. 
 Perhaps nothing else was to be expected, but it made 
 her feel the contrast between being treated with real 
 confidence and as a mere child, and it seemed to put 
 her father further away from her than ever. 
 
 Then came the conclusion, written on shore — 
 
 " Harry May came on board to take me home with 
 him. He is a fine, genial fellow and his welcome did 
 one's heart good, I never did him justice before ; 
 but I see his good sense and superiority called into 
 play out here. Depend upon it, there's nothing like 
 going to the other end of the world to teach the value 
 of home ties." 
 
 " Well done, Maurice," exclaimed Lady Merrifield; 
 but she glanced at Dolores and checked herself. 
 
 Miss Mohun vent on, "Phyllis met me at the door 
 of a pleasant, English-looking house, with all her 
 tribe about her. She has the true ' honest Phyl ' 
 face still, carrying me back over some thirty or forty 
 years of life, and as you would imagine, she is u 
 capital mother, with all her flock well in hand, and 
 making themselves thoroughly useful in the scarcity 
 of servants ; though the other matters do not seem 
 neglected. The eldest can talk like a well informed 
 girl, and shows reasonable interest in things in 
 general; but Phyllis wants to put finishing touches 
 to their education, and her husband talks of throwing
 
 ix] LETTERS. 157 
 
 up his appointment before long, as he is anxious to go 
 home while his father lives. I wish I had gone to 
 Stoneborough before coming out here, now that I see 
 what a gratification it would have been if I could 
 have brought a fresh report of old Dr. May. [Some- 
 how, I think there has been a numbness or obtuse- 
 ness about me all these last two years which hindered 
 me from perceiving or doing much that I now regret, 
 since either the change or the wholesome atmosphere 
 of this house has wakened me as it were. Among these 
 ungracious omissions is what I now am much con- 
 cerned to think of, that I never went to see Lilias 
 when I committed my child to her charge ; nor talked 
 over her disposition. Xot that I really understand it 
 as I ought to have done when the poor child was left 
 to me. I take shame to myself when Phyllis ques- 
 tions me about her], but as I watch these children 
 with their parents I am quite convinced that the 
 being taken under Lily's motherly wing is by far the 
 best thing that could have befallen Dolores, and 
 that my absence is for her real benefit as well as 
 mine.'' 
 
 The part between brackets was omitted by Miss 
 Mohun in the public reading, but the last sentence 
 she did read, thinking it good for both parties to hear 
 it. However, Dolores both disliked the conclusion to 
 which her father had come, and still more that her 
 aunt and cousins should hear it, though, after all, it 
 was only Gillian and Mysie who remained to listen by 
 the time the end of the letter was reached. The lona-
 
 158 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 words had frightened away Valetta as soon as her 
 appointed task of work was finished. 
 
 Aunt Lily did not see the omitted sentence till the 
 two sisters were alone together later in the afternoon. 
 It filled her eyes with tears. " Poor Maurice," she 
 said; " he wrote something of the same kind to me." 
 t( I expect we shall see him wonderfully shaken up 
 and brightened when he comes home. The numbness 
 he talks of was half of it Mary's dislike to us all, only 
 I never would let her keep me aloof from him." 
 
 " I almost wish he had taken Dolores out to Phyllis. 
 
 I am not in the least fulfilling his ideal towards her." 
 
 " Nor would Phyllis, unless the voyage had had as 
 
 much effect on her as it seems to have had upon 
 
 Maurice. So you don't get on any better ? " 
 
 "Not a bit. It is a case of parallel lines. We 
 don't often have collisions — unless Wilfred gets an 
 opportunity of provoking her." 
 
 " Why don't you send that boy to school ? " 
 " I shall after Christmas. He is quite well now, 
 and to have him at home is bad both for himself and 
 the others. He needs licking into shape as only boys 
 can do to one another, and he is not a model for 
 Fergus, especially since Harry has been away." 
 " What does he do ? " 
 
 "Nothing very brilliant, nor of the kind one half 
 forgives for the drollery of it. Putting mustard into 
 the custard was the worst, I think ; inciting the dogs 
 to bring the cattle clown on the girls when they cross 
 the paddock ; shutting up their books when the places
 
 ix.] LETTERS. 159 
 
 are found — those are the sort of things ; putting that 
 very life-like wild cat chauffe-pied with glaring eyes 
 in Dolly's bed. I believe he does such things to all, but 
 his sisters would let him torture them rather than com- 
 plain, whereas Dolores does her best to bring them 
 under my notice without actually laying an informa- 
 tion, which she is evidently afraid to do. It is very 
 unlucky that her coming should have been just when 
 we had such an element about — for it really gives her 
 some just cause of complaint." 
 
 " But you say he is impartial ? " 
 
 " Teasing is unfortunately his delight. He will 
 even frighten Primrose, but I am afraid there is active 
 dislike making Dolores his favourite victim ; and then 
 Val and Fergus, who don't tease actively on their own 
 account, have come to enjoy her discomfiture." 
 
 " And you go on the principle of ' tolerer beau- 
 coup f ' " 
 
 " I do ; hoping that it is not laziness and weakness 
 that makes me abstain from nagging about what is 
 not brought before my eyes by the children or the 
 police — I mean Gill, Halfpenny, and Miss Vincent. 
 Then I scold, or I punish, and that I think maintains 
 the principle, without danger to truth or forbearance. 
 At least, I hope it does. I am pretty sure that if I 
 punished Wilfred for every teasing trick I know, or 
 guess at, he would — in his present mood — only become 
 deceitful, and esprit de corps might make Val and 
 Fergus the same, though I don't think Mysie's truth 
 could be shaken any more than honest Phyl's."
 
 160 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "Besides, mutual discipline is not a thing to upset. 
 Lily, I revere you ! I never thought you were going 
 to turn out such a sensible mother/' 
 
 "Well, you see, the difficulty is, that what may 
 work for one's own children may not work for other 
 people's. And I confess I don't understand her per- 
 sistent repulse of Mysie." 
 
 " Nor of you, the nasty little cat ! " said Aunt Jane, 
 with a little fierce shake of the head. 
 
 "I do understand that a little. I am too unlike 
 Mary for her to stand being mothered by me." 
 
 " There must be some other influence at work for 
 this perverseness to keep on so long. Tell me, did 
 she take up with that very goosey girl, that Miss 
 Hacket ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ; she goes there every Sunday afternoon. 
 It is the only thing the poor child seems much to care 
 about, and I don't think there can be any harm 
 in it." 
 
 " Humph ! the folly of girls is unfathomable ! Oh ! 
 you may say what you like — you who have thrown 
 yourself into your daughters and kept them one with 
 vou. You little know in your innocence the product 
 of an ill-managed boarding-school ! " 
 
 "Nay," said Lady Merrifield, a little hotly, " I do 
 know that Miss Hacket is one of the most excellent 
 people in the world, a little tiresome and bornec, per- 
 haps, but thoroughly good, and every inch a lady." 
 
 " Granted, but that's not the other one — Constance 
 is her name ? My dear, I saw her goings on at the
 
 ix.] LETTERS. 161 
 
 G.F.S. affair — If she had only been a member, 
 wouldn't I have been at her." 
 
 "My dear Jenny, you always had more eyes to your 
 share than other people." 
 
 " And you think that being an old maid has not 
 lessened their sharpness, eh ! Lily ? Well, I can't 
 help it, but my notion is that the sweet Constance — 
 whatever her sister may be — is the boarding-school 
 miss a little further developed into sentiment and 
 flirtation." 
 
 " Nay, but that would be so utterly uncongenial to 
 a grave, reserved, intellectual girl, brought up as 
 Dolores has been." 
 
 " Don't trust to that ! Dolores is an interesting 
 orphan, and the notice of a grown-up young lady 
 is so flattering that it carries off a great deal of folly." 
 
 "Well, Jenny, I must think about it. I hope I 
 have done no harm by allowing the friendship — the 
 only indulgence she has seemed to wish for ; and I 
 am afraid checking it would only alienate her still 
 more ! Poor Maurice, when he is trusting and hoping 
 in vain ! " 
 
 "Three years is a long time, Lily; and you have 
 not had three months of her yet — " 
 
 The door opened at that moment for the afternoon 
 tea, which was earlier than usual, to allow of Miss 
 Mohun's reaching the station in time for her train. 
 Lady Merrifield was to drive her, and it was the turn 
 of Dolores to go out, so that she shared the refection 
 instead of waiting for gouter. In the midst the Miss 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Hackets were announced, and there were exclama- 
 tions of great joy at the sight of Miss Mohun ; as 
 she and Miss Hacket flew upon each other, and to 
 the very last moment, discussed the all-engrossing 
 subject of G.F.S. politics. 
 
 Nevertheless, while Miss Mohun was hurrying on 
 her sealskin in her sister's room, she found an oppor- 
 tunity of saying, " Take care, Lily, I saw a note pass 
 between those two." 
 
 " My dear Jenny, how could you ? You were going 
 on the whole time about cards and premiums and 
 associates. Oh ! yes, I know a peacock or a lynx 
 is nothing to you, but how was it possible ? Why, 
 I was making talk to Constance all along, and trying 
 to make Dolly speak of her father's letter." 
 
 " I might retort by talking of moles and bats ! Did 
 you never hear of the London clergyman whose silver 
 cream-jug, full of cream too, was abstracted by the 
 penitent Sunday school boy whom he was exhorting 
 over his breakfast-table ? " 
 
 " I don't believe London curates have silver jugs or 
 cream either ! " 
 
 " A relic of past wealth, like St. Gregory's one 
 silver dish, and perhaps it was milk. Well, to 
 descend to particulars. It was done with a meaning 
 glance, as Dolores was helping her on with her cloud, 
 and was instantly disposed of in the pocket." 
 
 " I wonder what I ought to do about it," sighed 
 Lady Merrifield, "If I had seen it myself I should 
 have no doubts. Oh ! if Jasper were but here ! and
 
 ix.] LETTERS. 163 
 
 yet it is hardly a thing to worry him about. It is 
 most likely to be quite innocent." 
 
 "Well, then you can speak of the appearance of 
 secrecy as bad manners. You will have her all to 
 yourself as you go home." 
 
 But when the aunts came downstairs, Dolores was 
 not there. On being called, she sent a voice down, 
 over the balusters, that she was not going. 
 
 Aunt Jane shrugged her shoulders. There was 
 barely time to reach the train, so that it was im- 
 possible to do anything at the moment; but in the 
 Merrifield family bad manners and disrespect were 
 never passed over, Sir Jasper having made his wife 
 very particular in that respect ; and as soon as she 
 came home in the twilight, she looked into the school- 
 room, but Dolores was not there, and then into the 
 drawing-room, where she was found learning her 
 lessons by firelight. 
 
 " My dear, why did you not go with your Aunt 
 Jane and me?" 
 
 "I did not want to go. It was so cold," said 
 Dolores in a glum tone. 
 
 " Would it not have been kinder to have found that 
 out sooner? If I had not met the others in the 
 paddock, and picked up Yaletta, the chance would 
 have been missed, and you knew she wanted to go." 
 
 Dolores knew it well enough. The reason she was 
 in this room was that all the returning party had 
 fallen upon her; Wilfred had called her a dog in 
 the manger, and Gillian herself had not gainsayed
 
 164 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [.-hap. 
 
 him — but the general indignation had only made 
 her feel, " What a fuss about the darling." 
 
 "Another time, too," added Lady Merrifield, "re- 
 member that it would be proper to come down and 
 speak to me instead of shouting over the balusters 
 in that unmannerly way ; without so much as taking 
 leave of your Aunt Jane. If she had not been almost 
 late for her train, I should have insisted." 
 
 "You might, and I should not have come if you 
 had dragged me," thought, but did not say, Dolores. 
 She only stood looking dogged, and not attempting 
 the " I beg your pardon," for which her aunt was 
 waiting. 
 
 "I think," said Lady Merrifield, gently, "that 
 when you consider it a little, you will see that it 
 would be well to be more considerate and gracious. 
 And one thing more, my dear, I can have no passing 
 of private notes between you and Constance Hacket. 
 You see a good deal of each other openly, and such 
 doings are very silly and missish, and have an under- 
 hand appearance such as I am sure your father would 
 not like." 
 
 Dolores burst out with, " I didn't," and as Prim- 
 rose at this instant ran in to help mamma take off 
 her things, she turned on her heel and went away, 
 leaving Lady Merrifield trusting to a word never 
 hitherto in that house proved to be false, rather than 
 to those glances of Aunt Jane, which had been always 
 held in the Mohun family to be a little too discerning 
 and ubiquitous to be always relied on; and it was
 
 ix.] LETTERS. 165 
 
 a satisfactory recollection that at the farewell moment 
 when Miss Jane professed to have observed the 
 transaction, she had been heard saying, " Yes, it 
 will never do to be too slack in inquiring into ante- 
 cedents, or the whole character of the society will be 
 given up," and with her black eyes fixed full upon 
 Miss Hacket's face.
 
 166 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 THE EVENING STAR. 
 
 " Oh, Connie clear, I had such a fright ! Do you 
 know you must never venture to give me anything 
 when any one is there — especially Aunt Jane. I am 
 sure it was her. She is always spying about ? " 
 
 "Well, but dearest Dolly, I couldn't tell that she 
 would be there, and when I got your letter I could 
 not keep it back, you know, so I made Mary come 
 up and call on Lady Merrifield for the chance of 
 being able to give it to you — and I thought it was 
 so lucky Miss Mohun was there, for she and Mary 
 were quite swallowed up in their dear G.F.S." 
 
 " You don't know Aunt Jane ! And the worst of 
 it is she always makes Aunt Lilias twice as cross ! 
 I did get into such a row only because I didn't want 
 to go driving with the two old aunts in the dark and 
 cold, and be scolded all the way there and back." 
 
 " When you had a letter to read too ! " 
 
 " And then Aunt Lily said all manner of cross 
 things about giving notes between us. I was so glad 
 I could say I didn't, for you know I didn't give it 
 to you, and it wasn't between us."
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAE. 167 
 
 "You cunning child ! " laughed Constance, rather 
 amused at the sophistry. 
 
 " Besides," argued Dolores, " what right has she 
 to interfere between my uncle and my friends and 
 me ? " 
 
 " You dear ! Y r es, it is all jealousy ! " 
 
 "I have heard — or I have read," said Dolores, 
 "that when people ask questions they have no right 
 to put, it is quite fair to give them a denial, or at 
 least to go as near the wind as one can." 
 
 " To be sure," assented Constance, "or one would 
 not get on at all ! But you have not told me a word 
 about your letters." 
 
 "Father's letter? Oh, he tells me a great deal 
 about his voyage, and all the funny creatures they 
 get up with the dredge. I think he will be sure to 
 write a book about them, and make great discoveries. 
 And now he is staying with Aunt Phyllis in Xew 
 Zealand, and he is thinking, poor father, how well 
 off I must be with Aunt Lilias. He little knows ! " 
 
 " Oh, but you could write to him, dearest ! " 
 
 " He wouldn't get the letter for so long. Besides, 
 I don't think I could say anything he would care 
 about. Gentlemen don't, you know." 
 
 "No! Gentlemen can't enter into our feelings, 
 or know what it is to be rubbed against and never 
 appreciated. But your uncle ! Was the letter from 
 him ? " 
 
 "Oh }-es ! And where do you think he is? At 
 Darminster — editing a paper there. It is called the
 
 168 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Darminster Politician. He said be sent a cop}' 
 here." 
 
 "Oh yes, I know; Mary and I could not think 
 where it came from. It had a piece of a story in it, 
 and some poetry. I wonder if he would put in my 
 ' Evening Star.' " 
 
 " You may read his letter if you like ; you see 
 he says he would run over to see me if it were not 
 for the dragons." 
 
 " I wish he could come and meet you here. It 
 would be so romantic, but you see Mary is half a 
 dragon herself, and would be afraid of Lady Merri- 
 field" — then, reading the letter, — "How droll! how 
 clever ! What a delightful man he must be ! How 
 very strange that all your family should be so pre- 
 judiced against him ! I'll tell you what, Dolores, I 
 will write and subscribe for the Darminster Politician 
 my own self — I must see the rest of that story — and 
 then Mary can't make any objection ; I can't stand 
 never seeing anything but Church Bells, and then 
 you can read it too, darling." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Connie. Then I shall have got 
 him one subscriber, as he asks me to do. I am 
 afraid I shan't get any more, for I thought Aunt 
 Lily was in a good humour yesterday, and I put one 
 of the little advertisement papers he sent out on the 
 table, and she found it, and only said something 
 about wondering who had sent the advertisement of 
 that paper that Mr. Leadbitter didn't approve of. 
 She is so dreadfully fussy and particular. She won't
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAK. 169 
 
 let even Gillian read anything she hasn't looked over, 
 and she doesn't like anything that isn't goody 
 goody." 
 
 " My poor darling ! But couldn't you write and 
 get your uncle to look at some of my poor little verses 
 that have never seen the light ? " 
 
 "I dare say I could," said Dolores, pleased to he 
 ahle to patronize. "Oh, but you must not write on 
 both sides of the paper, I know, for father and mother 
 were always writing for the press." 
 
 " Oh, I'll copy them out fresh ! Here's the 'Even- 
 ing Star.' It was suggested by the sound of the guns 
 firing at the autumn manoeuvres ; here's the ' Be- 
 reaved Mother's Address to her Infant : ' 
 
 " Sweet little bud of stainless wliite, 
 Thou'lt blossom in the garden of light." 
 
 "Mary thought that so sweet she asked Miss 
 Mohun to send it to Friendly Leaves, but she wouldn't 
 — Miss Mohun I mean; she said she didn't think 
 they would accept it, and that the lines didn't scan. 
 Now I'm sure its only Latin and Greek that scan ! 
 English rhymes, and doesn't scan ! That's the 
 difference ! " 
 
 "To be sure!" said Dolores, "but Aunt Jane 
 always does look out for what nobody else cares about. 
 Still I wouldn't send the baby-verses to Uncle Alfred, 
 for they do sound a little bit goody, and the * Evening- 
 Star ' would be better." 
 
 The verses were turned over and discussed until the 
 summons came to tea, poured out by kind old Miss
 
 170 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Hacket, who had delighted in providing her young- 
 guests with buttered toast and tea cakes. 
 
 Dolores went home quite exhilarated and unusually 
 amiable. 
 
 Her letter to her father was finished the next day. 
 It contained the following information. 
 
 " Uncle Alfred is at DarmiDster. He is sub-editor 
 to the Politician, the Liberal county paper. I do not 
 suppose Aunt Lilias will let me see him, for she does 
 not like anything that dear mother did. There is a 
 childish obsolete tone of mind here ; I suppose it is 
 because they have never lived in London, and the 
 children are all so young of their age, and so rude, 
 Wilfred most especially. Even Gillian, who is sixteen, 
 likes quite childish games, and Mysie, who is my age, 
 is a mere child in tastes, and no companion. I do 
 wish I could have gone with you." 
 
 Lady Merrifield wrote by the same mail, " Your 
 Dolores is quite well, and shows herself both clever 
 and well taught. Miss Vincent thinks highly of her 
 abilities, and gets on with her better than any one else, 
 except the daughter of our late Vicar, for whom she 
 has set up a strong girlish friendship. She plainly has 
 very deep affections, which are not readily transferred 
 to new claimants, but I feel sure that we shall get on 
 in time." 
 
 Miss Mohun wrote, " Lily and I enjoyed your letter 
 together. Dolly looks all the better for country life, 
 though I am afraid she has not learnt to relish it, nor 
 to assimilate with the Merrifield children as I expected.
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAE. 171 
 
 I don't think Lily has quite fathomed her as yet, but 
 'cela riendra ' with patience, only mayhap not without 
 a previous explosion. I fancy it takes a long time for 
 an only child to settle in among a large family. It 
 was a great pity you could not see Lily yourself. To 
 my dismay I encountered Flinders in the street at 
 Darminster last week. I believe he is on the staff of 
 a paper there, happily Dolly does not know it, nor do 
 I think he knows where she is." 
 
 In another three weeks, Constance was in the utmost 
 elation, for " On hearing the cannonade of the Autumn 
 Manoeuvres " was in print, and Miss Hacket was so 
 much delighted that justice should be done to her 
 sister's abilities, that she forgot Mr. Leadbitter's dis- 
 approval, and ordered half a dozen copies of the 
 Politician for the present, and one for the future. 
 
 Dolores, walking home in the twilight, could not 
 help showing Gillian, in confidence, the precious slip, 
 though it was almost too dark to read the small type. 
 
 " Newspaper poetry, I thought that always was 
 trumpery," said Gillian, making a youthfully sweeping 
 assertion. 
 
 " Many great poets have begun with the periodical 
 press," said Dolores, picking up a sentence which she 
 had somewhere read. 
 
 " I thought you hated English poetry, Dolly ! You 
 always grumble at having to learn it." 
 
 " Oh, that is lessons." 
 
 " ' II Penseroso,' for instance." 
 
 " This is a very different thing."
 
 172 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap, 
 
 " That it certainly is," said Gillian, beginning to 
 read — 
 
 " How lovely mounts the evening star 
 Climbing the sunset skies afar." 
 
 " What a wonderful evening ! Why, the evening 
 
 star was going up backward ! " 
 
 "You only want to make nonsense of it." 
 
 " It is not I that make nonsense ! " said Gillian, 
 
 " why, don't you see, Dolly, which way the sun and 
 
 everything moves ? " 
 
 " This is the evening star," said Dolores, sulkily. 
 
 " It was just rising." 
 
 " I do believe you think it rises in the west." 
 
 " You always see it there. You showed it to me 
 
 only last Sunday." 
 
 " Do you think it had just risen ? " 
 
 " Of course the stars rise when the sun sets." 
 
 Gillian could hardly move for laughing. " My dear 
 
 Dolores, you to be daughter to a scientific man ! Don't 
 
 you know that the stars are in the sky, going on all 
 
 the time, only we can't see them till the sunlight is 
 
 gone?" 
 
 But Dolores was too much offended to attend, and 
 
 only grunted. She wanted to get the cutting away 
 
 from Gillian, but there was no doing so. 
 
 "The mist is rising o'er the mead, 
 With silver hiding grass and reed ; 
 'Tis silent all, on hill and heath, 
 The evening winds, they hardly breathe ; 
 What sudden breaks the silent charm, 
 The echo wakes with wild alarm,
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAR. 173 
 
 With rapid, loud, and furious rattle, 
 Sure 'tis the voice of deadly battle, 
 Bidding the rustic swain to fly 
 Before his country's enemy." 
 
 " Did anybody ever bear of a sbam figbt in tbe 
 evening?" cried tbe soldier's daughter indignantly. 
 " There, I can't see any more of it." 
 
 " Give it to me, then." 
 
 " You are welcome ! Where did it come from ? Let 
 me look. C. H. Oh, did Constance Hacket write it? 
 Nobody else could be so delicious, or so far superior 
 to Milton." 
 
 " You knew it all the time, and that was the reason 
 you made game of it." 
 
 " No, indeed it was not, Dolores. I did not guess. 
 You should have told me at first." 
 
 " Y T ou would have gone on about it all the same." 
 
 " No, indeed, I hope not. I did not mean to vex 
 you ; but how was I to know it was so near your 
 heart?" 
 
 " I ought to have known better than to have shown 
 it to you ! Y T ou are always laughing at her and me 
 all over the house — and now " 
 
 " Come, Dolly. I never meant to hurt your feelings. 
 I will promise not to tell the others about it." 
 
 No answer. There was something hard and swelling 
 in Dolores's throat. 
 
 "Won't that do?" said Gillian. "You know I 
 can't say that I admire it, but I'm sorry I hurt you, 
 and I'll take care the others don't tease you about it."
 
 174 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Dolores made hardly any answer, but it was a sort 
 of pacification, and Gillian said not a word to the 
 younger ones. Still she thought it no breach of her 
 promise, when they were all gone to bed, and she the 
 sole survivor, to tell her mother how inadvertently she 
 had affronted Dolores by cutting up the verses, before 
 she knew whose they were. 
 
 " I am sorry," said Lady Merrifield. " Anything 
 that tends to keep Dolores aloof from us is a pity." 
 " But, mamma, I had no notion whose they were." 
 " You saw that she was pleased with them." 
 " Yes, but that was the more ridiculous. Fancy 
 the evening star climbing up — up — you know in the 
 sunset ! " 
 
 " Portentous, certainly ! Yet still I wish you could 
 have found it in your heart to take advantage of any 
 feeler towards sympathy." 
 
 " How could I pretend to admire such stuff? " 
 "You need not pretend; but there are two ways of 
 taking hold of a thing without being untrue. If you 
 had been a little wiser and more forbearing you need 
 not have given Dolores such a shock as would drive 
 her in upon herself. Depend upon it, the older you 
 grow, the more dangerous you will find it to begin by 
 hitting the blots." 
 
 Gillian looked on in some curiosity when the next 
 day good Miss Hacket, enchanted with her dear 
 Connie's success, trotted up to display the lines to 
 Lady Merrifield, who on her side felt bound to set an 
 example alike of tenderness and sincerity, and was
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAR. 17-3 
 
 glad to be able to observe, " The lines run very 
 smoothly. This must be a great pleasure to 
 her/' 
 
 " Indeed it is ! Connie is so clever. I always say 
 I can't think where she got it from ; but we always 
 tried to give her every advantage, and she was quite 
 a favourite pupil at Miss Dormer's. Is not it a sweet 
 idea, the stillness of the evening broken by the sounds 
 of battle, and then it proving to be only our brave 
 defenders ? " 
 
 "Yes," was the answer. "I have often thought 
 of that, and of what it might be to hear those volleys 
 of musketry in earnest. It has made me very 
 thankful." 
 
 So Miss Hacket went away gratified, and Gillian 
 owned that it would have been useless to wound the 
 good lady's feelings by criticism, though her mother 
 made her understand that if her opinion had been 
 asked, or Constance herself had shown the verses, it 
 would have been desirable to point out the faults, in 
 a kindly spirit. The wonder was, how they could 
 have found their way into the paper, and they were 
 followed by more with the like signature. 
 
 Indeed, the great sensational tale, " The Waif of the 
 Moorland," was being copied out of the books where it 
 had been first written. Dolores had sounded Mr. 
 Flinders on the subject, and he had replied that he 
 could ensure its consideration by a publisher, but that 
 her fair friend must be aware that an untried author 
 must be prepared for some risk.
 
 170 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Constance could hardly abstain from communicating 
 her hopes to her sister ; but Mr. Leadbitter — to whom 
 the poetry was duly shown — had given such a cha- 
 racter of the Darminster Politician that Miss Hacket 
 besought Constance to have no more to do with it. 
 Besides, she was so entirely a lady, and so conscien- 
 tious, that all her tender blindness would not have 
 prevented her from being shocked at encouraging, or 
 profiting by, a surreptitious correspondence. 
 
 Constance declared that Mr. Leadbitter's objection to 
 the paper was merely political, and her sister was too 
 willing that she should be gratified to protest any 
 further. The copying had to be done in secret, since 
 it was impossible to confess the hopes founded on Mr. 
 Flinders, and it therefore lasted several weeks, each 
 fresh portion being communicated to Dolores on Sun- 
 day afternoons. There were at first a few scruples 
 on Constance's part whether this were exactly a 
 Sunday occupation; but Dolores pronounced that 
 "the Sabbatarian system was gone out," and after 
 Constance had introduced the ghostly double of her 
 vanished waif walking in a surpliced procession, she 
 persuaded herself that there was a sufficient aroma of 
 religion about the story to bring it within the pale of 
 Sunday books. 
 
 The days were shortening so that Lady Merrifield 
 had doubts as to the fitness of letting the girls return 
 in the dark, but Gillian would have been grieved to 
 relinquish her class, and the matter was adjusted by 
 the two remaining till evensong, when there was
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAE. 177 
 
 sure to be sufficient escort for them to come home 
 with. 
 
 Therewith arrived the holidays and Jasper, whose 
 age came between those of Gillian and Mysie. Dolores 
 had looked forward to his coming, for, by all the laws 
 of fiction, he was bound to be the champion of the 
 orphan niece, and finally to develop into her lover 
 and hero. In " No Home," when Clare's aunt locked 
 her up and fed her on bread and water for playing 
 the piano better than her spiteful cousin Augusta, 
 Eric, the boy of the family, had solaced her with cold 
 pie and ice-creams drawn up in a basket by a cord 
 from the window. He had likewise forced from his 
 cruel mother the locket which proved Clare's identity 
 with the mourning countess's golden-haired grand- 
 child and heiress, and he had finally been rewarded 
 with her hand, becoming in some mysterious manner 
 Lord Eric. 
 
 Jasper, however, or Japs, as his family preferred to 
 call him, proved to be a big, shy boy, not at all delighted 
 with the introduction of a stranger among his sisters, 
 neither golden-haired nor all-accomplished, only 
 making him feel his home invaded, and looking at 
 him with her great eyes. 
 
 "Is that girl here for good?" he asked, when he 
 found himself with Harry and Gillian. 
 
 " Yes, of course," said the cousin, " while her father 
 is away, and that is for three years." 
 
 Jasper whistled. 
 
 "Aunt Ada said," added Gillian, "that if she got 
 
 VOL. i. n
 
 178 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 too tiresome, mamma had Uncle Maurice's leave to 
 send her to school." 
 
 " That would be no good to me," said Jasper, " for 
 she would still be here in the holidays." 
 
 " Has she been getting worse ? " asked Harry. 
 
 " No, I don't know that she has," said Gillian, 
 " except that she runs after that Constance more 
 than ever. But, I say, Jasper, mamma says she is 
 particularly anxious that there should be no teasing 
 of her ; and you can hinder Wilfred better than any- 
 body can. She wants her to be really at home, and 
 one " 
 
 But though Jasper was very fond both of mother 
 and sister, he would not stand a second-hand lecture, 
 and broke in with an inquiry about chances of rabbit - 
 shooting. 
 
 Among his juniors he heard more opinions and 
 more undisguised, when the whole party had rushed 
 out together to the stable-yard to inspect the rabbits 
 and other live-stock. 
 
 " And Dolly says you are a fright," sighed Mysie, 
 condoling with a very awkward-looking puppy which 
 she was nursing. 
 
 " She ! she thinks everything a fright ! " said 
 Valetta. 
 
 " Except Constance," added Wilfred. 
 
 " Who is ugliest of all ! " politely chimed in 
 Fergus. 
 
 " Oh, Japs, she is such a nasty girl — Dolly, I 
 mean ! " cried Valetta.
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAR. 179 
 
 "You know you ought not to say 'nasty,' " exclaimed 
 Mysie. 
 
 " Well, but she is ! " insisted Val. " She squashed 
 a dear little lady-bird, and said it would sting ! " 
 
 " She really thought it would," said Mysie. 
 
 At which the young barbarians shouted aloud with 
 contempt, and Yaletta added. " She is afraid of 
 everything — cows and dogs and frogs." 
 
 " I got a whole match-box full of grasshoppers to 
 shut up in her desk and make her squall," said 
 Wilfred, " only the girls went and turned them 
 out." 
 
 " It was so cruel to the poor grasshoppers," said 
 Mysie. " One had his horn broken, and dragged his 
 leg." 
 
 "What does she do? " asked Jasper. 
 
 " She's always cross," said Fergus. 
 
 " And she won't play," added Yaletta. " And never 
 will lend us anything of hers." 
 
 "And she's a regular sneak," said Wilfred. " She 
 wants to tell of everything — only we stopped that and 
 she doesn't dare now." 
 
 " You see," said Mysie, gravely, " she has always 
 lived alone and in London, and that makes her 
 horribly stupid about everything sensible. We 
 thought we should soon teach her to be nice ; and 
 mamma says we shall if we are patient," 
 
 " We'll teach her, won't we, Japs ! " said Wilfred, 
 aside, in an ominous voice. 
 
 "She is only thirteen," added Yaletta, "and she
 
 180 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 pretends to be grown up, and only to care for a grown- 
 up young lady — that Constance Hacket." 
 
 "Yes," added Mysie, "only think — they write 
 poetry ! " 
 
 " What rot it must be ! " said Jasper. " There's a 
 man in my house that writes poetry, and don't they 
 chaff him ! And this must be ever so much worse." 
 
 "Oh, that it is," said Yaletta, "I heard Mr. 
 Poulter and Miss Yincent laughing about it like 
 anything." 
 
 "But they get it put into print," said Mysie, still 
 impressed. "Miss Hacket brought it up to give to 
 mamma, and there's ever so much of it shut up in the 
 drawing-room blotting-book with the malachite knobs. 
 I can't think why they laugh — I think it is very 
 pretty. Old Miss Hacket read me the one about ' My 
 Lost Dove.' " 
 
 " Mysie always will stick up for Dolores," said 
 Yaletta in a grumbling voice. 
 
 " I always meant her to be my friend," said Mysie, 
 disconsolately. 
 
 "Well, I'm glad she's not," said Jasper. "What 
 a sell it would have been for me to find you chummy 
 with a stupid, poetry- writing, good-for-nothing girl 
 like that, instead of my jolly old Mice ! " 
 
 And at that minute all Dolly's slights were fully 
 compensated for ! 
 
 There was a lurking purpose in the boys' minds 
 that if Dolores would not join in fun, yet still fun 
 should be extracted from her. Jasper had brought
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAR. 181 
 
 home a box of Japanese fireworks, and Wilfred, who was 
 superintending his unpacking, proposed to light the 
 serpent and place it in Dolores's path as she was going 
 up to bed ; but Jasper was old enough to reply that 
 he would have no concern with anything so low and 
 snobbish as such a trick. In fact, there was in 
 Jasper's mind a decided line between bullying and 
 teasing, which did not exist as yet in Wilfred's 
 conscience. x\nd, altogether, Dolores was in a state 
 of mind that made her stiff letters to her father betray 
 low spirits and discontent. 
 
 On Sunday, while waiting for the early dinner, 
 Jasper and Mysie happened to be together in the 
 drawing-room, and Mysie took the opportunity of 
 showing her brother the different cuttings of poetry. 
 The lines were smooth, and some had a certain swing 
 in them such as Mysie, with an unformed taste, a 
 love for Miss Hacket, and amazement that the words 
 of a familiar acquaintance of her own should appear 
 in print, genuinely admired. But the eyes of a youth 
 exercised in " chaffing " the productions of one of his 
 fellow "men" were infinitely more critical. Besides, 
 what could be more shocking to the General's son 
 than the confusion between the evening gun and the 
 sham fight? And Mysie had been reduced to con- 
 fusion for not detecting the faults, and then pardoned 
 in consideration of being only a girl, by the time the 
 gong summoned them to the Sunday roast beef. 
 
 The dinner over, the female part of the family 
 scampered headlong upstairs, while Harry repaired
 
 182 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 with his mother to her room to talk over a letter 
 from his father respecting his plans on leaving 
 Oxford. The other boys hung about the hall, until 
 Gillian and Dolores came down equipped for walking. 
 "Hollo, Gill! All right! Where's Mysie? We'll 
 be off ! Mysie ! Mice ! Mouse ! Yal ! ' 
 
 "You must wait for them, Japs," said Gillian. 
 " They are having their dresses changed ; and, don't 
 you remember, I always go to Miss Hacket's." 
 
 " Botheration ! What for ? " 
 
 " You know very well." 
 
 " Oh yes. To help her to write touching verses 
 about the sweet dead dove, with voice and plumage 
 soft as love, eh ? Only, Gill, I'm afraid your memory 
 is failing, if you don't know the evening gun from 
 rifle practice." 
 
 " Nonsense ! that's no concern of mine," said 
 Gillian, opening the front door, very anxious to get 
 Dolores away from hearing am'thing worse. 
 
 " Oh, that's your modesty. Only such a conjunc- 
 tion could have produced such a scene that the 
 evening star came up backwards to look at it ! " 
 
 "For shame, Jasper! How in the world did you 
 get hold of that ? " 
 
 "Too sweet a thing not to meet with universal 
 fame," said 'Jasper, to whom it was exquisite fun to 
 assume that Gillian devoted her Sunday afternoons 
 to the concoction of such poetry with Constance 
 Hacket, and thus to revenge himself for his disgust 
 and jealousy at having his favourite companion and
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAR. 183 
 
 slave engrossed. Wilfred hopped about like an imp 
 in ecstacy, grinning in the face of Dolores, whom 
 Gillian longed to free from her tormentors. The 
 shout was welcome, as Mysie and Yaletta came tear- 
 ing down the drive after them. 
 
 " Japs ! Japs ! Oh, we couldn't come before 
 because nurse would make us take off our Sunday 
 serges. Come and let out the dogs. Mamma says 
 we may see if there are any nice fir cones in the 
 plantation to gild for the Christmas-tree." 
 
 " And you won't come ? " said Jasper. " The 
 Muses must meet. What a poem you will produce ! 
 
 " Hear I a cannon or a rifle, 
 That is an unessential trifle ! " 
 
 " What nonsense boys do talk ! " said Gillian, turn- 
 ing her back on them with regret ; for much as she 
 loved her class, she better loved a walk with Jasper, 
 and here was Dolores on her hands in a state of ex- 
 asperation, believing her to have broken her promise, 
 and muttering, 
 
 "You set him on." 
 
 " No, indeed I never did ! You know I promised." 
 
 " There are plenty of ways of getting out of a 
 promise." 
 
 " Speak for yourself, Dolores." 
 
 There were ten minutes of offended silence, and 
 then Gillian said, " This is nonsense ! You may 
 believe me, I was sorry I laughed at the first verses 
 you showed me, and mamma said I ought not. We 
 never spoke of it, but Miss Hacket has been giving
 
 184 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 mamma all the poems, and Jasper must have got at 
 them. Don't you see ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, you say so," said Dolores, sulkily. 
 
 " You don't believe me!" 
 
 "You promised that your brothers should never 
 hear of it." 
 
 "I promised for myself. I couldn't promise for 
 what was put into a newspaper and trumpeted all 
 over the place," said Gillian, really angry now. 
 
 Dolores could not deny this, but she was hurt by 
 the word trumpeted; and besides, her own slippery 
 behaviour was weakening her trust in other people's 
 sincerity, and she only gave a kind of grunt; but 
 Gillian, recovering herself a little, and remembering 
 her mother's words, proceeded to argue. " Besides, 
 it was me whom Jasper meant to tease, not you." 
 
 "I don't care which it was. He is as bad as the 
 rest of them ! " 
 
 Gillian attempted no more conciliation, and they 
 arrived in silence at the Casement Cottages, where 
 Constance was awaiting her friend in the greatest 
 excitement ; for she had despatched " The Waif of the 
 Moorland " to Mr. Flinders in the course of the week, 
 and had received a letter from him in return, saying 
 that a personal interview with the gifted authoress 
 would be desirable. 
 
 " And I do long to see him ; don't you, darling ? " 
 
 " It is very hard that he should be kept away from 
 me," said Dolores, trying to stir up some tender 
 feelings.
 
 x.] THE EVENING STAE. 185 
 
 " That it is, my poor sweet ! I thought whether 
 he could come to me for a merely literary consulta- 
 tion without Mary's knowing anything further about 
 it, and then we could contrive for you to come down 
 and meet him ; but there are so many horrid pre- 
 judices that I suppose it would not be safe." 
 
 " I don't see how I could come down here without 
 the others. Aunt Lily won't let me come alone, and 
 though it is holiday time, that is no good, for those 
 horrid boys are always about, and I see that Jasper 
 is going to be worse even than Wilfred. 
 
 Various ways and means were discussed, but no 
 excuse seemed available for either Constance's going 
 to Darminster, or for Mr. Flinders coming to Silver- 
 ton, without exciting suspicion.
 
 186 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SECRET EXPEDITIONS. 
 
 " The Christinas -tree ! Ob, mamma, do let it be the 
 Christmas-tree. It is quite well. We've been to 
 look at it." 
 
 "Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val," said 
 Gillian. 
 
 " Eot ! " put in Jasper. 
 
 " Oh, please, please, mamma," implored Valetta, 
 " please let it be the dear old Christmas-tree ! You 
 said I should choose because it will be my birthday." 
 
 " There is no need to whine, Yal ; you shall have 
 your tree." 
 
 " I'm so glad ! " cried Mysie. " The dear old tree 
 is best of all. I could never get tired of it if I lived 
 to be a hundred years old." 
 
 "Such are institutions," said their mother. "I 
 never heard of a Christmas-tree till I was twice your 
 age." 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! how dreadful ! What did you 
 do?"
 
 xi.] SECKET EXPEDITIONS. 1ST 
 
 " I suppose it is all very well for you kids," said 
 •Jasper, loftily, putting his bands in his pockets. 
 
 " Perhaps something may he found interesting even 
 to the high and mighty elders," observed Lady Merri- 
 field. 
 
 " Oh ! What, mamma ? " 
 
 Mamma, of course, only looked mysterious. 
 
 "And," added Val, " mayn't we all go on a secret 
 expedition and buy things for it ? " 
 
 "We've all been saving up," added Mysie ; "and 
 everybody knows every single thing in all the shops 
 at Silverton." 
 
 "Besides," added Gillian, "the sconces will none 
 of them hold, and almost all the golden globes got 
 smashed in coming from Dublin, and one of the birds 
 has its head off, and another has lost its spun-glass 
 tail, and another its legs." 
 
 "A bird of Paradise," said Lady Merrifield, laugh- 
 ing ; " but wasn't there a tree at Malta decked with 
 no apparatus at all ? " 
 
 "Yes, but Alley and Phyl can do anything ! " 
 
 " I think we must ask Aunt Jane " 
 
 There was a howl. " Oh, please, mamma, don't let 
 Aunt Jane get all the things ! We do so want to 
 choose." 
 
 " You impatient monsters ! You haven't heard me 
 out, and you don't deserve it." 
 
 " Oh, mamma, I beg your pardon ! " "Oh, mamma, 
 please ! " "Oh, mamma, pray ! " cried the most im- 
 patient howlers, dancing round her.
 
 188 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 " What I was about to observe, before the interrup- 
 tion by the honourable members, was, that we might 
 perhaps ask Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada to receive at 
 luncheon a party of caterers for this same tree." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! " " How delicious ! " " Hooray ! " 
 " That's what I call jolly fun ! " 
 
 " And, mamma," added Gillian, "perhaps we might 
 let Miss Hacket join. I know she wants to get up 
 something for a G.F.S. class;" but mamma was 
 attending to Primrose, and the brothers burst in. 
 
 " There goes Gill, spoiling it all ! " exclaimed 
 Wilfred. 
 
 "That's always the way," said Jasper. ••'Girls 
 must puzzle everything up with some philanthropic 
 Great Fuss Society dodge." 
 
 " I am sure, Jasper," said Gillian, " I don't see 
 why it should spoil anything to make other people 
 happy. I thought we were told to make feasts not 
 only for our own friends " 
 
 "Gill's getting just like old Miss Hacket," said 
 Wilfred. 
 
 " Or sweet Constance," put in Jasper. " She'll be 
 writing poems next." 
 
 "Hush! hush! boys," said Lady Merrifield. "I 
 do not mean to interfere with your pleasure, " but I 
 had rather our discussions were not entirely selfish. 
 Suppose, Gillian, we walked down to Casement Cot- 
 tages, and consulted Miss Hacket." 
 
 This was done, in the company of all the little girls, 
 for Miss Hacket's cats, doves, and gingerbread were
 
 xi.] SECEET EXPEDITIONS. 189 
 
 highly popular ; moreover, Dolores was glad of a 
 chance sight of Constance. 
 
 " My dear," said Lady Merrifield, as Gillian walked 
 beside her, " you must be satisfied with giving Miss 
 Hacket the reversion of our tree, and you and Mysie 
 can go and help her. It will not do to make these 
 kind of works a nuisance to your brothers." 
 
 " I did not think Jasper would have been so selfish 
 as to object," said Gillian, almost tearfully. 
 
 " Remember that boys have a very short time at 
 home, and cannot be expected to care for these things 
 like those who work in them," said Lady Merrifield. 
 " It will not make them do so, to bore them, and take 
 away their sense of home and liberty. At the same 
 time, they must not expect to have everything sacrificed 
 to them, and so I shall make Jasper understand." 
 
 " You won't scold him, mamma ? " 
 
 " Can't you, any of you, trust me, Gill ? " 
 
 " Oh ! mamma ! Only I didn't want him to think 
 I wouldn't do everything he liked, except that I don't 
 want him to be unkind about those poor girls." 
 
 Miss Hacket was perfectly enraptured at the offer 
 of the reversion of the Christmas-tree and its trap- 
 pings. Valetta's birthday was on the 28th of Decem- 
 ber, and the tree was to be lighted on the ensuing 
 evening for the G.F.S. Moreover, the party would 
 go to Rockstone as soon as an appointment could be 
 made with Miss Mohun, to make selections at a great 
 German fancy shop, recently opened there/and in full 
 glory ; and the Hacket sisters were invited to join the
 
 190 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 party, starting at a quarter to eight, and returning at 
 a few minutes after seven, the element of darkness at 
 each end only adding to the charm in the eyes of the 
 children, and Valetta, with a little leap, repeated that 
 it would be a real secret expedition. 
 
 "Very secret indeed," said her mother, "consider- 
 ing how many it is known to " 
 
 " Yes, but it is, mamma, for everybody has a secret 
 from everybody." 
 
 The words made Constance and Dolores look round 
 with a start from their colloquy under the shade of 
 the window-curtains, but no one was thinking of 
 them. Just as the plans were settled, Constance 
 came forward, saying, "Lady Merrifield, may I have 
 dear Dolores to spend the day with me ? We neither 
 of us wish to join your kind party to Rockstone, and 
 we should so enjoy being together." 
 
 " I had much rather stay," added Dolores. 
 
 "Very well," said Lady Merrifield, reflecting that 
 her sisters would be grateful for the diminution of the 
 party, and that it would be easier to keep the peace 
 without Dolores. 
 
 The defection was hailed with joy by her cousins, 
 though they were struck dumb at her extraordinary 
 taste in not liking shopping. 
 
 Jasper did look rather small when his mother 
 assured him in private he might have trusted her to 
 see that he was not to be incommoded with Gillian's 
 girls, and he only observed, in excuse for his mur- 
 murs, that it made a man mad to see his sisters 
 always off after some charity fad or other.
 
 xi.] SECRET EXPEDITIONS. 191 
 
 "'Always' being a few hours once a week," she 
 said. 
 
 " Just when one wants her." 
 
 "Look here, my boy," she said, "you don't want 
 your sisters to be selfish, useless, fine ladies — never 
 doing any one any good. If they take up good works, 
 they can't drop them entirely to wait on you. Gillian 
 does give up a great deal, and it would be kinder to 
 forbear a little, and not treat all she does as an 
 injury to yourself." 
 
 " I only meant to get a rise out of her." 
 
 "You are quite welcome to do that, provided it is 
 done in good nature. Gill is quite sound stuff enough 
 to be laughed at ! But, I say, my Japs, I should 
 prefer your letting Dolores alone ; she has not learned 
 to be laughed at yet, and has not come even to the 
 stage for being taught to bear it." 
 
 " She looks fit to turn the cream sour," observed 
 Jasper. " I say, mamma, you don't want me to go on 
 this shopping business, do you ? " 
 
 " Not by any means, sir." 
 
 Happily, the chance of a day's rabbit shooting pre- 
 sented itself at a warren some miles off, and Harry 
 undertook the care of Wilfred, who gave his word of 
 honour to obey implicitly and take no liberties with 
 the guns. Fergus would gladly have gone with them, 
 but he was still young enough to be sensible of the 
 attractions of toy-shops. Only Primrose had to be 
 left to the nursery, and there was no need to waste 
 pity on her, for on such an occasion Mrs. Halfpenny
 
 192 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 would relax her rnood, and lay herself out to be agree- 
 able, when she had exhausted her forebodings about 
 her leddyship making herself ill for a week gaun ram- 
 paging about with all the bairns, as if she was no 
 better than one herself. 
 
 " I shall let Miss Mohun do most of the rampaging, 
 nurse ; but, if it is fine, will you take Miss Primrose 
 into the town and let her choose her own cards. I 
 have given her a florin, and if you make the most of 
 that for her, she will be as happy as going with us." 
 
 " That I will, my leddy. Bairns is easy content 
 when ye ken how to sort 'em." 
 
 " And, nurse, I believe there will be a box from Sir 
 Jasper at the station. It may come home in the 
 waggonette that takes us. Will you and Macrae get 
 it safe into the store-room, for I don't want the chil- 
 dren to see it too soon ? " 
 
 There was nothing but satisfaction in the house on 
 the morning of the expedition. The untimely candle- 
 light breakfast was only a fresh element of delight, 
 and so was the paling gas at the station, the round, 
 red sun peeping out through a yellow break between 
 grey sky and greyer woods ; the meeting Miss Hacket 
 in her fur cloak, the taking of the tickets, the cough- 
 ing of the train, the tumbling into one of the many 
 empty carriages, the triumphant start, — all seemed 
 as fresh and delicious as if the young people had 
 never taken a journey before in all their lives. The 
 fog in the valleys, the sleepy villages, the half-roused 
 stations, all gave rise to exclamations, and nothing
 
 xi.] SECRET EXPEDITIONS. 103 
 
 was regretted but that the windows would get clouded 
 over. 
 
 Even the waiting at the junction had its charms, 
 for it was enlivened by a supplementary breakfast on 
 rolls and milk ! and at a few minutes past eleven the 
 train was drawing up at Rockstone, and Aunt Jane, 
 sealskins and all, was beckoning from the platform, 
 hurrying after the carriage as it swept past, and 
 holding out a hand to jump the party from the door. 
 There she was, ready to take them to the most charm- 
 ing and cheapest shops, where the coins burning in 
 those five pockets would go the furthest. Go in a 
 cab ? No, I thank you, it is far more delightful to 
 walk. So mamma and Miss Hacket were stowed 
 away in the despised vehicle, to make the purchases 
 that nobody cared about, or which were to be unseen 
 and unknown till the great day; while Aunt Jane 
 undertook to guide the young people through the 
 town, for her house was at the other end of it. 
 securing the Christmas-cards on the way, if nothing- 
 else. For, though all the cards and gifts to mamma, 
 and a good many besides, were of domestic manufac- 
 ture, some had to be purchased, and she knew, this 
 wonderful woman, where to get cards of former seasons 
 at reduced prices to suit their youthful finances. 
 
 Considerable patience was requisite before all the 
 choices were made, and the balance cast between 
 cards and presents, and Miss Mohun got her quartette 
 past all the shop windows, to the seaside villa, shut 
 in by tamarisks, which Aunt Adeline believed to be 
 
 vol. i. o
 
 194 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 the only place that suited her health. Mamma and 
 Miss Hacket had already arrived, and filled the 
 little vestibule with parcels and boxes. 
 
 Then the early dinner ! The aunts had anticipated 
 their Christmas turkey for that goodly company to 
 help them eat it, but afterwards there was only time 
 for a mince pie all round; for more than half the 
 work remained to be done by all except mamma, who 
 would stay and rest with Aunt Ada, having finished 
 all that could not be deputed. 
 
 However, first she had a conference in private with 
 Aunt Jane, who undertook therein to come to Silver- 
 ton for Yaletta's birthday, and add astonishment and 
 mystery sufficient to satisfy such of the public as 
 were weary of Christmas-trees. She added, however, 
 " You will think I am always at you, Lily, but did 
 you know that Flinders is living at Darminster ? " 
 
 " No ; but it is five and twenty miles off, and he has 
 never troubled us." 
 
 "Don't be too secure. He is in connection with 
 that low paper — the Politician — which methinks, is 
 the j)lace where those remarkable poenis of Miss 
 Constance's have appeared." 
 
 "Is it not the way of poetry of that calibre to see 
 the light in county papers ? " 
 
 " This seems to me of a lower calibre than is likely 
 to get in without private interest." 
 
 "But to my certain knowledge the child has 
 neither written to, nor heard of the man all this 
 time."
 
 xi.] SECRET EXPEDITIONS. 195 
 
 "You don't know what goes on with her bosom 
 friend." 
 
 " I am certain Miss Hacket would connive at 
 nothing underhand. Besides, I have never seen any- 
 thing sly or deceitful in poor Dolores. She will not 
 make friends with us, that is all, and that may be 
 our fault." 
 
 " I only say, look out, you unsuspicious dame ! " 
 
 "Now, Jenny, satisfy my curiosity as to how you 
 know all this. I am sure I never showed you those 
 effusions. We have had trouble enough about them, 
 for the children cut them up in a way Dolores has 
 never forgiven." 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Hacket sent them to me, to ask if 
 ' Mollsey to her Babe ' and ' The Canary ' might not 
 be passed on to Friendly Leaves. And as to Flinders, 
 when I went to the G.F.S. Conference at Darminster, 
 I met the man full in the street, and, of course, I 
 inquired afterwards how he came there. So there's 
 nothing preternatural about it." 
 
 " It is well you did not live two hundred years ago, 
 or you would certainly have been burnt for a witch." 
 
 " See what a witch I shall make on the 28th ! But 
 I hear those unfortunate children dancing and 
 prancing with impatience on the stairs. I must go, 
 before they have driven Ada distracted." 
 
 What would the two aunts have said, could they 
 have seen Dolores and Constance, at that moment 
 partaking of the most elaborate meal the Darminster 
 refreshment -room could supply, at a little round
 
 196 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap; 
 
 marble table, in company with Mr. Flinders ! They 
 had not been obliged to start nearly so early as the 
 other party, as the journey was much shorter, and 
 with no change of line, so they had quietly walked to 
 the station by ten o'clock, arrived at Darminster at 
 half-past eleven, and have been met by the personage 
 whom. Dolores recognized as Uncle Alfred. Constance 
 was a little disappointed not to see something more 
 distinguished, and less flashy in style, but he was so 
 polite and complimentary, and made such touching 
 allusions to his misfortunes and his dear sister, that 
 she soon began to think him exceediugly interesting, 
 and pitied him greatly when he said he could not take 
 them to his lodgings — they were not fit for his niece 
 or her friend, who had done him a kindness for which 
 he could never be sufficiently grateful, in affording 
 him a glimpse of his dear sister's child. It made 
 Dolores wince, for she never could bear the mention 
 of her mother, it was like touching a wound, and the 
 old sensation of discomfort and dislike to her uncle's 
 company began to grow over her again, now that 
 she was not struggling against Mohun opposition to 
 her meeting him. He lionized them about the town, 
 but it was a foggy, drizzly day, one of those when 
 the fringe of sea-coast often enjoys finer weather 
 than inland places ; the streets were very sloppy, and 
 Dolores and Constance did not do much beyond pur- 
 chasing a few cards and some presents at a fancy 
 shop, as they had agreed to do, to serve as an excuse 
 for their expedition in case it could not be kept a
 
 xi.] SECKET EXPEDITIONS. 197 
 
 secret, and most of the visit was made in the waiting- 
 room at the station, or walking up and down the 
 platform. As to the grand point, Mr. Flinders told 
 Constance that her tale was talented and striking, 
 full of great excellence; she might hope for success 
 equal to Ouida's — hut that he had found . it quite 
 impossible to induce a publisher to accept a work by 
 an unknown author, unless she advanced something. 
 He could guarantee the return, but she must entrust 
 him with thirty pounds. Poor Constance ! it was a 
 fatal blow ; she had not thirty pounds in the world ; 
 she doubted if she could raise the sum, even by her 
 sister's help. Then Mr. Flinders sighed, and thought 
 that if he represented the circumstances, the firm 
 might be content with twenty — nay, even fifteen. 
 Constance cheered up a little. She did think she 
 could make up fifteen, after the 21st, when certain 
 moneys became due, which she shared with her sister. 
 She would be left very bare all the spring — but what 
 was that to the return she was promised ? Only Mr. 
 Flinders impressed on her the necessity of secrecy — 
 even from her sister — since, he said, if he were once 
 known to have obtained such terms for a young 
 authoress, he should be besieged for ever ! 
 
 "But, Uncle Alfred," said Dolores, "surely my 
 father and mother, and all the other people I have 
 known, did not pay to get their things published." 
 
 " My dear niece, you speak as one who has been 
 with persons of high and established fame — the 
 literary aristocracy, in fact. The doors once opened,
 
 198 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 Miss Hacket will, like them, make her own terms ; 
 but such doors, like many others, are only to be 
 opened by a silver key." 
 
 There were other particulars which he talked over 
 with the authoress in a promenade on the platform 
 while Dolores was left in the waiting-room; but 
 afterwards he indulged his niece with a tete-a-tete, 
 asking her father's address, and mourning over the 
 length of time it would take to obtain an answer from 
 Fiji. Mr. Mohun had promised to help him, solemnly 
 and kindly promised, for the sake of her whom they 
 had both loved so much, and here he was, cut off, and 
 quite in extremity. Unfortunate as usual, through 
 his determined enemies, a company in which he had 
 shares had collapsed, he was penniless till his salary 
 from the Politician became due in March. Mean- 
 while, he should be expelled from his lodging and 
 brought to ruin if he could not raise a few pounds 
 — even one. 
 
 Dolores had nearly two pounds in her purse. Her 
 father had left her amply provided, and she had not 
 much opportunity of spending. She knew he had 
 seen the gold when she was shopping, and when she 
 had paid for the refreshments, which of course she 
 had found she had to do. With some hesitation she 
 said, "If thirty shillings would be of any good to 
 you " 
 
 "My dear, generous child, your dear mother's own 
 daughter ! It will be the saving of me temporarily ! 
 But among all your wealthy relatives, surely, con-
 
 xi.] SECBET EXPEDITIONS. 199 
 
 sidering your father's promise, you could obtain some 
 advance until he can be communicated with ! " 
 
 " If he is still in New Zealand, we could telegraph, 
 and hear directly. He did not know how long he 
 should be there, for the ship had something to be done 
 to it." 
 
 This did not suit Mr. Flinders. Such telegrams 
 were very expensive, and it was too uncertain whether 
 Mr. YTohun would be at Auckland. Surely, Lady 
 Merfifield, whose husband was shaking the pagoda 
 tree, would make an advance if she knew the circum- 
 stances. 
 
 "I don't think she would," said Dolores, "I don't 
 think they are very rich. There is only one horse and 
 one little pony, and my cousins have such very tiny 
 allowances." 
 
 "Haughty and poor! Stuck up and skimping. 
 Yes, I understand. But I am not asking from her, 
 only an advance, on your father's promise, which he 
 would be certain to repay. Yes, quite certain ! It is 
 only a matter of time. It would save me at the 
 present moment from utter ruin and destruction that 
 would have broken your dear mother's heart. Oh ! 
 Mary, what I lost in you." Then, as perhaps he saw 
 reflection on Dolores's face, he added, " She is gone, 
 the only person who took an interest in me, so 
 it matters the less, and when you hear again of 
 your unhappy uncle you will know what drove 
 him " 
 
 "If it was only an advance — I have a cheque."
 
 200 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 began Dolores. " If seven pounds would do you any 
 good " 
 
 " It would be salvation ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "Father left it with rue," pursued Dolores, con- 
 sidering, "in case Professor Miihlwasser went on with 
 his great book of coloured plates of microscopic marine 
 zoophytes, and sent it in. I was to keep this and pay 
 with it " 
 
 " Oh ! Miihlwasser ! you need not trouble about 
 him. I saw his death in the paper a month ago." 
 
 " Then I really think I might send you the cheque, 
 and write to my father why I did so." 
 
 " Ah ! Dolly, I knew that your mother's daughter 
 could never desert me." 
 
 More followed of the same kind, tending to make 
 Dolores feel that she was doing a heroically generous 
 thing, and stifling the lurking sense in her mind that 
 she had no right to dispose of her father's money 
 without his consent. The December day began to 
 close in, the gas was lighted, Constance was seen 
 disconsolately peeping out at the waiting-room door 
 to see whether the private conference were over. They 
 joined her again, and Mr. Flinders discoursed about 
 the envy and jealousy of critics, and success being 
 only attained by getting into a certain clique, till she 
 began to look rather frightened; but reassured by the 
 voluble list of names and papers to which he assured 
 her of recommendations. Then he began to be com- 
 plimentary, and she, to put on the silly tituppy kind 
 of face and tone wherewith she had talked to the
 
 xi.] SECRET EXPEDITIONS. 201 
 
 curates at the festival. Dolores began to find this 
 very dull, and to feel neglected, perhaps also cross, 
 and doubts came across her whether she might not 
 get into a dreadful scrape about the money, which she 
 certainly had no right to dispose of. She at last broke 
 in with, " Uncle Alfred, are you quite sure Professor 
 Miihlwasser is dead ? " 
 
 "Bless your heart, child, he's as dead as Harry the 
 Eighth," said Mr. Flinders in haste ; " died at Berlin, 
 of fatty degeneration of the heart ! Well, as I was 
 saying, Miss Constance " 
 
 " But, uncle, I was thinking " 
 
 " Hush ! " as a couple of ladies and a whole train 
 of nurses and children invaded the waiting-room, " it 
 won't do to talk of such little matters in public places, 
 you know. Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss 
 Constance. Will you allow me to be your cavalier ? " 
 
 People were beginning to arrive in expectation of 
 the coming train, and talk was not possible in the 
 throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not make it so. 
 At last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to 
 find places for the ladies, when there was a moment's 
 glimpse of a handsome moustached face at a smoking- 
 carriage window. Dolores started, and had almost 
 exclaimed, "Uncle Reginald;" but before the words 
 were out of her mouth, Mr. Flinders had drawn her 
 on swiftly, among all the numbers of people getting 
 out and getting in, hurled her into a distant carriage, 
 handed Constance in after her, and muttering some- 
 thing about forgetting an appointment, he vanished,
 
 202 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 without any of the arrangements about foot-warmers 
 that he had promised. 
 
 " Uncle Reginald ! "' again exclaimed Dolores, " I 
 am sure it was he ! " 
 
 " Oh dear ! What an escape ! " answered Con- 
 stance, breathless with surprise, and settling herself 
 with disgust and difficulty next to a fat old farmer, as 
 three or four more people entered and jammed them 
 close together. 
 
 "Who is he?" she presently whispered. 
 
 " Colonel Mohun. His regiment is at Gal way. I 
 knoY\ T he talked of getting over this winter if he pos- 
 sibly could ; but Aunt Lily went away before the post 
 was come in." 
 
 " We shall have to take great care when we get out." 
 
 Here the train started, and conversation in under- 
 tones became impossible, more especially as two of the 
 farmers in the carriage were coming back from the 
 Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the prize 
 oxen with all their might. It was very stuffy and 
 close. Constance looked ineffably fastidious and un- 
 comfortable, and Dolores gazed at the clouded window, 
 and dull little lamp overhead, put in to enliven the 
 deepening twilight. This avoiding of Uncle Reginald 
 brought more before her mind a sense of wrong-doing 
 than anything that had gone before. She was fond of 
 this uncle, who always made her father's house his 
 headquarters when in London, and used to play with 
 her when she was a small child, and always to take 
 her to the Zoological Gardens, till she declared she
 
 XT.] SECRET EXPEDITIONS. 203 
 
 was too old to care for such a childish show, and then 
 he and her father both laughed at her so much that 
 she would never have forgiven anybody else ; and she 
 found he enjoyed it for his own sake far more than 
 she did. However, he always did take her out for 
 walks and sights that were sure to be amusing with 
 him. Father, too, was quite bright and alive when he 
 was in the house, and thus Dolores had nothing but 
 pleasant associations connected with this uncle, and 
 had heard of the chances of his coming like a ray of 
 light, though without much hope, since the state of 
 Ireland had prevented him from being able even to 
 run over to take leave of her father. And now he was 
 come, she must hide from him like a guilty thing ! 
 There was no spirit of opposition against him in her 
 mind, and thus she could feel that she was doing 
 something sad and strange. Moreover, she began to 
 feel that her promise about the cheque had been a 
 rash one, and the echo of her father's voice came 
 back on her, saying, " Surely, Mary, you know belter 
 than to believe a word out of Flinders's mouth." 
 
 But then she thought of her mother's rare tears 
 glistening in her eyes, and the answer, " Poor 
 Alfred ! I cannot give him up. Everything has 
 been against him." 
 
 It was quite dark before Silverton was reached, at 
 half-past five, with three quarters of an hour to spare 
 before the other travellers were expected. Most of 
 their fellow passengers had got out at previous 
 stations, so that Constance was able to open the
 
 201 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 door and jump out so perilously before the train had 
 quite stopped, that a porter caught her with a sharp 
 word of reproof. She grasped Dolores's hand and 
 scudded across the platform, giving the return tickets 
 almost before the collector was ready. A cautious 
 guard even exclaimed, "What's those two young 
 women up to ? " but was answered at once, " They're 
 all right ! That's nought but one of the old par- 
 son's daughters, as have been out with a return to 
 Darm'ster." 
 
 " A sweetheartin' ? " demanded one of the by- 
 standers, and there was a laugh. 
 
 Constance heard the tones and vulgar laugh, though 
 not the words, and she was in such a panic as she 
 hurried down the steps that she did not stop to look 
 out for a cab. The place was small, and they were 
 not very plentiful at any time, and she was mortally 
 afraid, though she hardly knew why, of being over- 
 taken and questioned by Colonel Mohun, who might 
 know his niece, though he would not know her ; but 
 Dolores was tired, and had a headache, and did not 
 at all like the walk in the dirt, and fog, and dark, 
 after turning from the gaslit station. 
 
 "We were to have a cab, Constance." 
 
 " We can't," was the answer, still hurrying on. 
 " He would come out upon us." 
 
 "He is much more likely to overtake us this way ! " 
 said Dolores, thinking of her uncle's long strides. 
 
 " Well, we can't turn back now ! " said Constance, 
 getting almost into a run, which lasted till they were
 
 xi.] SECEET EXPEDITIONS. 205 
 
 past the paddock gate. Dolores, panting to keep up 
 with her, had half a mind to turn up there and go 
 straight home ; but there might be an}- number of 
 oxen in the way, and almost worse, she might meet 
 Jasper and Wilfred, or if Uncle Reginald overtook her, 
 what would he think ? 
 
 The pair slackened their pace a little when they 
 had satisfied themselves that the break in the dark 
 hedge beside them was the gate. They heard wheels, 
 and presently saw the lamps of a cab, bearing down, 
 halt at the gate they had left behind, and turn in. 
 
 " We should have been off first," said Dolores. 
 
 " If we could have got a cab in time ? " 
 
 " One can always get cabs." 
 
 "Oil! no, not at all for certain." 
 
 " This is a nasty, stupid, out-of-the-way place," said 
 Dolores, wanting to say something cross. 
 
 "It isn't a vulgar place, full of traffic," returned 
 Constance, equally cross. 
 
 " Well, I never meant to walk home in this way ! 
 I'm sure my feet are wet. I wish I had waited and 
 gone with Uncle Regie." 
 
 " Now, Dolly, what do you mean ? You would not 
 have it all betrayed? " 
 
 " I've a great mind to tell Uncle Regie all about 
 it." 
 
 " Xow, Dolly ! When you said so much about the 
 Mohun pride and scorn of your poor, dear uncle." 
 
 " Uncle Regie is not proud. And he would know 
 what to do."
 
 20G THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. [chap. 
 
 "But," cried Constance, in a fright, "you would 
 never tell him ! You promised that it should be 
 a secret, and I should be in such a dreadful scrape 
 with Lady Merrifield and Mary." 
 
 " Well ! it was your doing, and you had all the 
 pleasure of it, flourishing about the platform with him." 
 
 "How can you be so disagreeable, Dolores, when 
 you know it was all on business. Though I do think 
 he is the most interesting man I ever did see." 
 
 " Just because he flattered you." 
 
 However, there is no need to tell how many cross 
 and quarrelsome things the two tired friends said to 
 each other. They were sitting on opposite sides of 
 the fire, one very gloomy, and the other very pettish, 
 when the waggonette stopped at the gate, to put out 
 Miss Hacket and take up Dolores. Hands pulled her 
 up the step, and a hubbub of merry voices received her 
 in the dark. 
 
 " Good girl, not to keep us waiting." 
 
 "Oh, Dolly, Dolly, Macrae says Uncle Eegie's 
 come ! " 
 
 " Oh, Dolly, it has been such fun ! " 
 
 " Take care of my parcel ! " 
 
 " Ah, ha ! you don't know what is in there." 
 
 " Here's something under my feet ! " 
 
 " Oh ! take care ! 'Tisn't my—" 
 
 "Hush, hush, Vat-" 
 
 And so it went on till on the steps was seen in full 
 light among the boys, Uncle Reginald, ready to lift 
 every one out with a kiss."
 
 XI .] SECRET EXPEDITIONS. 207 
 
 " Ha ! Dolly, is that you ? " lie said, as they came 
 into the hall. " I saw such a likeness of you at one 
 station that I was as near as possible jumping out to 
 speak to her. She had on just that fur tippet ! " 
 
 " That comes of living in Ireland, Regie," said 
 Aunt Lily. " Once in a shop at Belfast, a lady 
 darted up to me with ' And it's I that am glad to see 
 3 r ou, me dear. And how's me sweet little god- 
 daughter ? Oh ! and it isn't yourself. And aren't 
 you Mrs. Phelim O'Shaugnessy ? ' " And under 
 cover of this, Dolores retreated to her own room. 
 She took off her things, and then looked at the 
 cheque. 
 
 Professor Miihlwasser was a clever German, always 
 at work on science, counting, in the most minute and 
 accurate manner, such details as the rays in a sea 
 anemone's tentacles, or the eggs in a shrimp's roe. 
 He was engaged on a huge book, in numbers, of which 
 Mr. Maurice Mohun had promised to take two copies 
 — but whereas extravagances upon peculiar hobbies 
 were apt not to be tolerated in the family, and it was 
 really uncertain whether the work would ever be 
 completed, Mr. Mohun had preferred leaving a cheque 
 for the payment in his little daughter's hand, rather 
 than entrust it to one of the brothers, who would have 
 howled and growled at such a waste of good money 
 on such a subject. Thus he had told Dolores to back 
 the draft, get it changed, and send the amount by a 
 postal order to German3 r , if the books and account 
 should come, which he thought very doubtful.
 
 208 THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD, [chap, xi.] 
 
 And now the professor was dead, Dolores looked at 
 the cheque, and supposed she could do as she pleased 
 with it. Mother helped Uncle Alfred. Yes, but 
 mother earned all she sent him herself ! Perhaps he 
 would not ask again. How much more he had talked 
 to Constance than to herself. Dolly wished she had 
 not seen him to get into this difficulty. She was 
 tired, cold, and damp. Oh ! if she had never gone, 
 and not been half caught by Uncle Regie ! 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 J 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SOX?, LIMITED, 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.