CHAPTER IX.

UNDER THE CHARM.

It took my mother and myself some time to rally from the depression which had fallen like a cloud upon us from the moment of Guy's departure. We missed him every day, almost every hour, and the home from which he had never before been absent, seemed scarcely like home to us without him.

It was at this time that Meta became, oddly enough, a real comfort and support to my mother, and a something that appeared very necessary and pleasant to me.

As long as Guy had been in the house,

manifesting continually that he worshipped even the air she breathed, he had been her chief object of interest, and either through the promptings of vanity or some deeper feeling this remained to be proved-she had exerted all her powers of fascination on his behalf. But now that he had gone, instead of sitting down, as we were weakly inclined to do, and selfishly lamenting his departure, she brought her numerous and varied talents into action, to amuse, and charm, and win his grieving mother and sister. Perhaps just at first, mamma, knowing the extent of Guy's devotion to Meta, was a little inclined to resent the gaiety and light-heartedness she exhibited in his absence; but very soon she began to yield to the charm of this perpetual sunshine around her, and to acknowledgegrudgingly, however, at first, because of her early prejudice that Guy had a fair excuse for the madness which he was cherishing. I think it not impossible that the inevitable necessity for associating these two always in

her thoughts had helped my mother, in some slight degree, in getting up a sort of tender interest in Meta. A mother who loves her son very fondly and passionately, can scarcely help, in the end, giving a little love to the woman who is dearest in the world to him, unless, indeed, through jealousy, she is constrained to hate her-and hate had no existence in my mother's gentle nature.

It was on the occasion of Meta being invited to spend a whole day from home that I first opened my eyes to the fact of her having become what she was to both of us. There had sprung up a kind of intimacy—I can scarcely call it friendship-between herself and the young widow at Primrose Cottage, and one morning, when Guy had been gone about a fortnight, Mrs. Arnott called at Lindenhurst, and, in her little peremptory way, insisted on carrying off Meta, and keeping her till the evening. Of course, Meta being willing, no objection was made

to the proposal, and the two went away together almost immediately.

I, for my part, had plenty of work to do that morning, for a quantity of school books, and maps, and other things had arrived from London, and these were to be looked over, sorted, and arranged in the school room. I thought I should be quite glad to have an hour or two to myself; I had no idea in the world that I should miss the society, or feel lost without the help, of this strange, incomprehensible girl who had so recently appeared amongst us, and, as it turned out, bewitched us all-but so it really was. Her constant flow of spirits her powers of amusing—her thrilling, bird-like voice, which from time to time would burst out in disjointed snatches of wild German melodies, her readiness and aptitude in doing any single thing that was required of her, and perhaps above all (for I wish to be quite candid in detailing her fascinations) the subtle skill with which she could

administer flattery to those she sought to win or please-all these were things to be missed and longed for when suddenly withdrawnand, though I meant to make a profound secret of the discovery, I had discovered, during my two hours solitary labours on that June morning, that Meta Kauffman had grown to be the very light and sunshine of our quiet home.

I looked rather curiously into my mother's face when we met at our early dinner. She was not in good spirits-that was evidentand I asked her, as we sat down, if she felt unwell.

"No, dear," she replied, with a smile meant to reassure me, "only I have seemed to miss your poor brother this morning more than usual. I don't know how or why it should have been so; perhaps the heat of the weather has depressed me a little-it is very warm to-day, Ethel, is it not?"

แ "A very lovely day, mamma, and not too warm for you to have a short walk this after