and with an expression of great pain in his compressed lips, "I should
have to thank you for much misery." He rose abruptly, and turned away.

"How have I offended him?" thought Evelyn, sorrowfully; "I never speak
but to wound him. What _have_ I done?"

She could have wished, in her simple kindness, to follow him, and make
peace; but he was now in a coterie of strangers; and shortly afterwards
he left the room, and she did not see him again for weeks.



CHAPTER VII.

NIHIL est aliud magnum quam multa minuta.*--VETUS. AUCTOR.

* "There is nothing so great as the collection of the minute."

AN anxious event disturbed the smooth current of cheerful life at Merton
Rectory. One morning when Evelyn came down, she missed little Sophy, who
had contrived to establish for herself the undisputed privilege of a
stool beside Miss Cameron at breakfast. Mrs. Merton appeared with a
graver face than usual. Sophy was unwell, was feverish; the scarlet
fever had been in the neighbourhood. Mrs. Merton was very uneasy.

"It is the more unlucky, Caroline," added the mother, turning to Miss
Merton, "because to-morrow, you know, we were to have spent a few days at
Knaresdean to see the races. If poor Sophy does not get better, I fear
you and Miss Cameron must go without me. I can send to Mrs. Hare to be
your chaperon; she would be delighted."