Captain Falkland stared into his teacup, as if he saw something there of engrossing interest, then raising his eyes to mine, he said:
"I see; and so you have been released from Beke, and have come to live here? Are the Lingards your nearest relations?"
"My only ones, except Ronnie--and he is much more than a mere relation." I cannot imagine what folly possessed me, but I added, "He is very popular here--but I am not."
"Impossible!" exclaimed my companion with ready politeness, "How could that be?"
"Do tell it to me," he urged, "I shall wait for your uncle; there's nothing to do but talk this gloomy afternoon, and as you are deputy hostess, I expect to be entertained!"
"But it's merely a family prejudice," I objected, "and not the least amusing."
"Your family and mine are old friends and even connections, so why not share the little 'jars' with me?"
"Well, in that case you shall hear all there is to tell," I replied. (Alas! it never required much persuasion to encourage me to talk.) "Ronnie and I arrived here as orphans, when he was ten and I was four. Aunt Mina took to him at once, he has such a dear open face and charming manners; but I--well, we had come from France--and I missed my _bonne_. I loathed porridge and lots of things. I had been spoiled. I gave way to furies, and there is a legend that in one of my rages I bit a piece out of a saucer! In fact, I was always in disgrace, so I was sent to school at Cheltenham, where Ronnie was at college, and we saw one another every week. Then in the holidays I generally brought back something--measles, chicken pox or mumps--so you won't be surprised to hear that I was left at school altogether, and only for missing Ronnie, I much preferred it."
"The family black lamb!" he ejaculated with a laugh, then added, "Is that all?"
"Yes, my past career has been tame--and my future is uncertain."
"It lies in the lap of the gods?" suggested Captain Falkland.
"No indeed, but in the hands of Aunt Wilhelmina. Uncle and I get on together splendidly, but I don't know how it will be when she returns. You see my aunt has not seen me for two years, and she, I am afraid, can only think of me as a detestable, ill-tempered, sickly child. My fate, like that of Kipper, is trembling in the balance."