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Jacinth's smile was charming. Already to her thin young face it gave the roundness and bloom it wanted every feature softened and the clear observant eyes grew sweet. A faint flush the mere suggestion of colour which in the aged often denotes intense emotion rose to Lady Myrtle Goodacre's face, as she met Jacinth's smile. She scarcely waited for the girl's reply to her question.
And what do you think? She sat down on a stool at Lady Myrtle's feet and looked up in her face. The old lady laid her hand fondly on the girl's soft hair. 'Nothing wrong, dear; I can see by your face. What can it be? Not it can't be that they are coming home? Jacinth's eyes sparkled. 'Yes, indeed, she said; 'that's just what it is.
Papa must know best, far better than we can. Do go on reading the letter. Mamma says I'm to ask you everything. Jacinth's eyes returned to the sheets in her hand. Her face cleared a little. 'There's something else, she said. 'Oh, I should like that far better.
Then Jacinth, anxiously waiting, heard the boudoir-bell ring, and a message was brought to herself asking her to join them. 'Come in, my dear child, said her old friend; 'your aunt and I have been enjoying a good talk. It is so pleasant when such things end in people quite agreeing with each other, is it not? she added, turning to Miss Mildmay with a smile. Jacinth's anxious face cleared.
And wasn't it funny, Lady Myrtle, that last morning when we were saying good-bye to Uncle Marmy at the gate, we looked in at this garden, and said how lovely it would be if papa and mamma had come home, and we were all living together in a house like this! And to think it may come true, if you ask us all to stay with you. Lady Myrtle stroked Jacinth's hand fondly.
But when you get a new frock of some good stuff and nicely made, I don't say to you that you might have had it of common print, run up anyhow, and spent the rest on poor people. You don't see things fairly, Frances. Frances recognised the sense of Jacinth's argument, but she could not explain herself. 'I didn't mean that exactly, she said.
And Jacinth's room was all a girl could wish, and at night, when the outer world was shut off, and the dark square hall and wide quaint staircase, which had attracted the new tenants in their house-hunting, were lighted up, looking bright and cheerful with the crimson carpets and curtains which Barmettle smoke had not as yet had time to dull, Frances's expression of approval, 'Really it looks so nice that you might fancy it wasn't Barmettle at all, could scarcely be contradicted.
An inner voice seemed to tell her that the moment had come for something to be said the something which even Camilla Harper in her letter had not debarred her from, which her own mother had hoped some opportunity might arise for. And in spite of Jacinth's stony face, and her aunt's evident wish to change the subject which she herself had brought on to the tapis, Frances spoke out.
Possibly, far down in Jacinth's heart, candid and loyal by nature, lay a consciousness that, notwithstanding the plausible and, to a certain extent, sound reasons for not meddling in other people's affairs, and for refraining from all 'Harper' allusions to Lady Myrtle, she was going farther than she needed in her avoidance of these girls, in her determination not to know anything about their family or their possible connection with her old lady.
And she took hold gently of Jacinth's hand. 'Doesn't it seem to follow up what we were saying the other day after we had been at old Mrs Burton's? she whispered. But Jacinth's face looked pale, and her eyes had tears in them.
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