Still smarting under the recollection of her interview with her
son-in-law, Mrs. Presty had certain ends to gain in putting this
idea into the child's head. It was her special object to raise
domestic obstacles to a private interview between the husband and
wife during the earlier hours of the day. If the gifts, usually
presented after the nursery dinner, were produced on this
occasion after breakfast, there would be a period of delay before
any confidential conversation could take place between Mr. and
Mrs. Linley. In this interval Mrs. Presty saw her opportunity of
setting Linley's authority at defiance, by rousing the first
jealous suspicion in the mind of his wife.

Innocent little Kitty became her grandmother's accomplice on the
spot. "I shall ask mamma to let me have my presents at
breakfast-time," she announced.

"And kind mamma will say Yes," Mrs. Presty chimed in. "We will
breakfast early, my precious child. Good-night."

Kitty was half asleep when her governess entered the room
afterward, much later than usual. "I thought you had forgotten
me," she said, yawning and stretching out her plump little arms.

Sydney's heart ached when she thought of the separation that was
to come with the next day; her despair forced its way to
expression in words.

"I wish I could forget you," she answered, in reckless
wretchedness.