The academician . efore the bed, DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 219 buried her face in the counterpane, andbegan to cry afresh. Come now, child ; no more nonsense,said Robson. Constance suddenly got up and beganwalking backwards and forwards. Therewas no fire—no light. He scolded me forhaving dressed for dinner. He says he isvery poor. Robson, did you see whatthere was for dinner ? Dinner !; sherepeated mockingly. Do you think theyare mad in this house ? Mad ! No, of course not. Its onlythat Mrs. Simes; shes no lady, and asstingy as a miser. Theres nothing tomake such a fuss about, Miss Connie. Itsyour hou
The academician . efore the bed, DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 219 buried her face in the counterpane, andbegan to cry afresh. Come now, child ; no more nonsense,said Robson. Constance suddenly got up and beganwalking backwards and forwards. Therewas no fire—no light. He scolded me forhaving dressed for dinner. He says he isvery poor. Robson, did you see whatthere was for dinner ? Dinner !; sherepeated mockingly. Do you think theyare mad in this house ? Mad ! No, of course not. Its onlythat Mrs. Simes; shes no lady, and asstingy as a miser. Theres nothing tomake such a fuss about, Miss Connie. Itsyour house, and you can make any changesyou like. But things cant be done all inone evening. There now, dry your eyes,and let me brush your hair by the fire. 220 THE ACADEMICIAN. See what a nice one it is. I made Marthalight it myself. Connie allowed her hair to be brushedfor a long time, until she felt soothed; andRobson put her to bed, quite determinedto open a campaign against the miserlyMrs. Simes the very next CHAPTER XI. A WINDFALL. As was only natural, Mabel had felt Con-nies departure very much. The two girlshad been so constantly together, Conniehad demanded so much of Mabels timeand thought, that there seemed quite ablank left in the latters existence. Conniespresence had been good for her, too ; it hadforced her to brighten up to the wholesomeoccupations and interests of a girls life,which seemed somehow or other to haveslipped away from her in the solitarinessof the days passed between her mother 222 THE ACADEMICIAN. and step-father. She had felt younger,had looked less at things, had lived inthem more, and had found herself all thehappier for so doing. And now that shewas left alone again she missed the dailywalks, the absorbing conversations thatshe had sometimes thought so frivolous,which occupied whole afternoons fromluncheon to tea-time, to decide some mo-mentous question of dress or fashion. Howoften had she wished that Constance wouldlet her paint for an hour
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