The Children of Wilton Chase

"Contrary to my express command?" queried Mr. Wilton.

"Yes, father."

"Is this the only time you have held forbidden intercourse with this little girl, Ermengarde?"

"No, father. I saw her once or twice before."

"Since I told you not?"

"Yes."

"Did Miss Nelson ever know of this?"

"No, she never knew."

"Don't you think you are very naughty and disobedient; that you have acted disgracefully?"

The sulky look came over Ermengarde's face.

"There is no harm in Susy," she said.

Mr. Wilton stamped his foot.

"That is not the point," he said. "Is there no harm in you? can you disobey me with impunity, and cast your father's sternest commands to nought? Ermengarde, I am stung by this. You have hurt me deeply."

Again Ermengarde saw Basil in her father's face. She was frightened and tired, and burst out sobbing afresh.

"I won't go with Susy any more," she said. "And I – I'm sorry – I'm really sorry."

Miss Nelson put her hand affectionately on her pupil's shoulder.

"I need not say, sir," she said, turning to Mr. Wilton, "how shocked I am at all this, and at – at Ermengarde's willful disobedience; but," here she paused, and pressed her hand a little firmer upon the weeping girl's shoulder, "if it is any use, and because I was their mother's friend, I, too, would like to add my promise to Ermengarde's, and assure you that this shall never occur again."

Mr. Wilton glanced round impatiently at the clock.

"Thank you, Miss Nelson," he said. "I believe you, of course; and I am sure that you will now have your eyes opened, and will probably take steps to insure my desires being carried into effect. As to Ermengarde, I will believe her promises when she has proved them to be worth anything. She is the first Wilton I ever heard of who stooped to deceit. In the meantime I feel it is my duty to punish you, Ermengarde. This morning I had a letter from the Russells – Lily Russell's father and mother. They have asked me to come to them for a week, and to bring two of you with me. I intended to take you and Basil. Now I shall take Marjorie and Basil. Perhaps, when you are having a dull time at home, you will reflect that it is not always worth while to disobey your father. You can go back to your lessons now."

CHAPTER XIII.

BASIL'S OPINION

At half-past eleven that day, Ermengarde found Basil waiting for her in the shrubbery. He was walking up and down, whistling to himself, and now and then turning round to say a pleasant word to a small white kitten who sat on his shoulder and purred. Basil was devoted to animals, and this kitten was a special favorite.

As Ermengarde advanced slowly through the trees to meet her brother, she saw this little scene, and a very bitter feeling came over her.

"He can be kind to everyone but me," she thought. "Even a stupid tiresome little cat can win kind glances from him. But I'm not going to let him see that I care. If he expects perfection in me, the sooner he is undeceived the better. And as for me, I suppose I can do without his affection, if he won't give it."

Busy with these thoughts, Ermie's face wore its most stubborn expression as she approached her brother. The moment Basil saw her, he whisked the kitten off his shoulder, and came up to her side.

"I have thought it all out, Ermengarde," he said, "and I have made up my mind what to do."

Ermengarde did not speak. She raised her eyes to Basil's face. There was entreaty in them, but he would not fully meet her glance.

"There is no use in my going over the thing with you," continued Basil. "If you could do it, no words of mine could make you see your conduct in its true light. Besides, I am not the one to preach to you. I am only a year older, and, as you reminded me last night, I have no sort of authority over you."

"Forget what I said last night!" pleaded Ermengarde.

"No, that is just the point. I can't forget – I shall never forget. The old relations between us are over, and as far as I am concerned it is impossible to restore them."

"Oh, Basil, you kill me when you speak so unkindly."

Ermengarde covered her face; her slight form was shaken by sobs.

"I am sorry," he said; "I cannot imagine why you value my regard, for we have quite different codes of honor; we look at things from totally different standpoints. I don't want to hold myself up, but I couldn't act as you have done, Ermengarde."

"Oh, Basil, if you only would be merciful."

Basil felt a growing sense of irritation.

"Will you stop crying, and listen to me?" he said.

Ermengarde managed, with a great effort, to raise her tear-stained face.

"You imagine that I have no feeling for you," continued Basil. "You are mistaken; I have, I used to put you on a pedestal. Of course you have come down from that, but still I don't forget that you are my sister, and as far as possible I intend to shield you. The discovery that I made last night shall not pass my lips. Miss Nelson must certainly get back the broken miniature of her little sister, but I am not going to tell her how it came into my possession. That's all – I'll shield you. You can go now."

Ermengarde would have pleaded still further, but Basil at that moment heard some one calling him, and ran off, uttering boyish shouts as he did so.

"He doesn't care a bit," muttered Ermie. She turned and walked back to the house.

For a time she felt stunned and sore; life scarcely seemed worth living out of the sunshine of Basil's favor. But after a time less worthy thoughts took possession of her, and she felt a sense of relief that the adventure of last night would never be known.

Marjorie came dancing down from the house to meet her sister.

"What do you think, Ermie? I'm to go away to-morrow for a whole delicious week with father and Basil! We are going to the Russells' – Basil has just told me. Isn't it perfectly, perfectly splendid!"

"I wish you wouldn't bother, Maggie. You are so rough," answered Ermengarde. "I came out here just to have quiet, and to get rid of my headache, and of course you come shouting to me."

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry – I forgot about your headache," answered Marjorie. "It's dreadful of me, I know."

She walked on gravely by Ermengarde's side, the joy on her face a little damped. But presently, being a most irrepressible child, it bubbled over again.

"I wouldn't be so awfully, awfully glad, only you have been at the Russells', Ermie. You spent a fortnight with them after Christmas, and Lily always promised that she'd have me asked next. I can't help being delighted about it," continued Marjorie, "for I do so love Lily."

"You little minx! And I suppose you imagine that a big girl like Lilias Russell cares for you! Why, she's fifteen, and ever so tall."

"But she said she was very fond of me," answered Marjorie.

"Oh, she said it! And you believed it, of course! Have you no observation of character? Can't you see, unless you're as blind as a bat, that Lilias Russell is one of those polite sort of people who always must say pleasant things just for the sake of making themselves agreeable? Well, my dear, go and worship her, you have got a chance now for a week; only for goodness' sake don't worry me any more about it."