"I can bear no more!" gasped Mrs. Dodd aloud, and turned to hasten and
part them; but even as she curved her stately neck to go, she caught the
lovers' parting; and a very pretty one too, if she could but have looked
at it, as these things ought always to be looked at: artistically.

Julia's head and lovely throat, unable to draw the rest of her away,
compromised: they turned, declined, drooped, and rested one half moment
on her captor's shoulder, like a settling dove: the next, she scudded
from him, and made for the house alone.

Mrs. Dodd, deeply indignant, but too wise to court a painful interview,
with her own heart beating high, went into the drawing-room, and there
sat down, to recover some little composure. But she was hardly seated
when Julia's innocent voice was heard calling "Mamma, mamma!" and soon
she came bounding into the drawing-room, brimful of good news, her cheeks
as red as fire and her eyes wet with happy tears; and there confronted
her mother, who had started up at her footstep, and now, with one hand
nipping the back of the chair convulsively, stood lofty, looking
strangely agitated and hostile.

The two ladies eyed one another, silent, yet expressive, like a picture
facing a statue; but soon the colour died out of Julia's face as well,
and she began to cower with vague fears before that stately figure, so
gentle and placid usually, but now so discomposed and stern.


"Where have you been, Julia?"

"Only at the school," she faltered.