The Third Miss St Quentin

by Mrs. Molesworth

the word to any person, but to the situation, as itwere--to meet the poor child, already sore probably at having beenturned out of the only home she can really remember, with theannouncement that the new one she is coming to is only hers onsufferance, and that her future is, to say the least, an uncertain one."

  "It would not be so for another day if we had more in our power," saidMadelene hotly.

  "No, I know that--know it and understand it. But--a child of--how much?fifteen, sixteen?"

  "Seventeen, seventeen and a quarter."

  "Well, even of seventeen and a quarter would have the haziest notionsabout law and legal obligations. No, gain her love and confidencefirst, by all means."

  "It is papa," said Madelene rather disconsolately. "The best of menare, at times I suppose, a little unreasonable. Though he has given upthe idea of a formal explanation to poor little Ella, still I am afraidhe will wish us to be more--I don't know what to call it, less treatingher just like ourselves, than Ermie and I would wish," and she looked upappealingly, her blue eyes quite pathetic in their expression.

  "And she may misunderstand it--us," added Ermine.

  "But it is right, necessary to a certain extent that she should _not_ beplaced in exactly the same position that she would have as your very ownsister," said Philip firmly. "People should think of these awkwardcomplications before they make second marriages, but once awkwardpositions do exist, it's no good pretending they don't. However, Ithink you are exaggerating matters, Maddie; unnecessarily anticipatingan evil day which may, _will_, I feel sure, never come. Before thismuch-to-be-pitied young lady has to learn that she is not an heiresslike her sisters, she may have learnt to love and trust those sisters asthey deserve, and love casteth out other ugly things as well as fear."

  "Thank you, dear Philip," said Miss St Quentin.

  "And--grand discovery!" he exclaimed. "She's not `out'. You can easilytreat her more like a child at first, till she has got to know you. Shecannot have been accustomed to much dissipation under the roof of theworthy Mrs Robertson."

  "No, none at all I fancy. But she has had her own way in everythingthere was to have it in I feel sure," said Madelene. "And if we beginby snubbing her--"

  "Snubbing her, not a bit of it. It will make her feel herself of allthe more importance if you will tell her Uncle Marcus thinks it betterfor her not to come out till she's eighteen--neither of you came outtill then?"

  "_I_ was nineteen," said Ermine; "you know we were abroad all the yearbefore. I thought it very hard then, but now I'm very glad. It makesme seem a year at least younger than I am," she added naively.

  "It's only staving off, after all, I'm afraid," said Madelene. "Whenshe _is_ eighteen or even nineteen, and has to come out, and wonders whypapa won't let her have everything the same as us and--"

  "Oh, Maddie, don't fuss so," said Ermine.

  "Twenty things may happen before then to smooth the way."

  "I hope so," said Miss St Quentin. But her tone was depressed.

  "Scold her, Philip, do," said Ermine. "If she worries herself so aboutElla it will make me dislike the child before I see her, and that won'tmend matters."

  "When does she come?" Sir Philip asked.

  "Next month," Madelene replied.

  "Do you think she feels it very much--the leaving her aunt, and comingamong strangers as it were?" he asked.

  "I don't know. She cannot but be fond of her aunt, but she has saiddistinctly that she would not wish to go on living with her and her newhusband. And of course it is time and more than time for her to come tous if this is ever to be her home. And though Mrs Robertson ismarrying a wealthy man, she loses all she had as a widow, and certainlywe should not have liked _our sister_ to be dependent on a stranger."

  "You could have given Mrs Robertson a regular allowance for her, ifthat had been the only difficulty. But if this Mr what's his name?"

  "Burton," said Ermine.

  "If that Burton fellow is rich he would possibly have disliked anyarrangement of that kind," said Philip.

  "He evidently wants to get rid of her," said Madelene, smiling a little."Some things in Mrs Robertson's letters make me imagine that the thirdMiss St Quentin has a will of her own, and a decided way of showing it.She speaks of `dear Ella's having a high spirit, and that Mr Burton wasnot accustomed to young people.'"

  "And Ella called him `old Burton' in a letter to papa," added Ermine."We told papa she must have left out the `Mr', but for my part, I don'tbelieve she did. I think that expression has made me more inclined tolike her than anything else," said Ermine, calmly.

  "Ermine!" said Madelene.

  But Philip turned to her with another question.

  "Are you sure," he said, "that Mrs Robertson may not already haveexplained things to Ella? If so, it would be better to know it."

  "I am sure she can't have told her what she doesn't know herself," saidMadelene. "Papa's losses made no practical difference to her; she hasalways received anything she wanted for Ella--to do her justice she hasnever been the least grasping--from us, but in his name just as before.We begged him to let it be so, and it has never come to much."

  "Then do you think she has brought the child up very simply?" askedPhilip.

  "No--that is to say, I fancy she has been indulged a good deal as to herpersonal wishes. Mrs Robertson was comfortably off, though she had nota large house. I think all she has ever taken from papa or us has beenliterally spent on little Miss Ella herself. And they went to the Southof France two winters, you know."

  Philip did not speak for a minute or two.

  Then he said slowly,--

  "As things are, perhaps it is as well that Ella does not know more.But--had they remained as they were, I don't know but that MrsRobertson _had_ a right to be told of Uncle Marcus's losses. Indeed, itmight have influenced her plans, possibly have prevented her marryingagain, had she known the child had nothing to look to in the future."

  Madelene reddened.

  "She _has_ something to look to in the future," she said, "she has _us_.And I'm quite sure nothing of the kind would have stopped her aunt'smarrying again."

  "`No fool like an old fool,' and everybody knows there's nothing onearth as obstinate _as_ a fool. You're forgetting what you just said,Phil," said Ermine.

  "No, I'm not. I didn't say it would have stopped it once she had got itinto her head. I meant it might have prevented her ever thinking ofit," Philip replied.

  "I don't see that it would have made any difference. Mrs Robertsoncould never have _left_ Ella anything except savings, which couldn'thave come to much. But do leave off talking about money, Philip--Iperfectly hate it. Ermie and I have been driven into hating it in thelast two or three years since we came of age."

  "And leave off talking about Ella, too, for a bit, do," said Ermine. "Imean to do my duty by her when she comes, but oh! I am so tired of thesubject! Don't you think we might have tea now, Maddie? I don'tbelieve papa will be back for ever so long."

  "Certainly--it would be nonsense to wait for him--will you--oh, thankyou, Philip, yes, just ring the bell at the side-door, twice. Theyunderstand. What a comfort it is to have some one who knows our littleways!"

  "A tame cat," said Philip meekly, "Well, thank you. You are not solavish of civil speeches to me, you and Ermine, as to make me inclinedto quarrel with even the ghost of one."

  "Come now, that's not quite fair," said Ermine, as the kettle and hotcakes duly made their appearance, "one doesn't make civil speeches toone's best friends, one keeps them, like calling cards, foracquaintances."

  "Well, not civil speeches then--nice, gratifying speeches."

  "I should have thought you must be tired of that sort of thing,"Madelene replied.

  Philip looked at her with an expression of inquiry, but of annoyance,too.

  "Do you mean, Maddie, that you think I am spoilt?" he said. "If you do,I wish you would say so plainly."

  Madelene felt a little conscience-stricken.

 
; "No," she said, "I don't really. But I think it is a great wonder thatyou are not. You are a fair prey to flattery--rich, handsome, clever--"

  "Madelene, stop," exclaimed Philip. "I might retaliate--why are you andErmine not spoilt then?"

  Miss St Quentin hesitated.

  "I don't know," she said at last naively. "I don't think women--girls--do spoil so easily. And then--there are heaps of girls,