"If he does, I am quite unaware of his intention; nor has such an idea even occurred to me before," said Juliet disdainfully, whilst the colour deepened in her cheek.
Flossie saw she had made a mistake.
"Well, I am sure your friends would be only too glad if he did. Algernon was saying yesterday how fitted you were to grace any position. He says he is glad for your sake; but he can't help feeling that he shall never see you now. You will forget your old friends."
"You do not know me, Flossie, if you say that," replied Juliet, with flashing eyes; "I never forget friends—I am faithful, whatever else I may be."
"Of course you are. That is what I told him. You are a darling, Juliet. There is no one like you. You are not to be tried by ordinary rules."
Juliet felt impatient of this flow of adulation. She looked back, and saw her mother coming alone.
"I must go back and meet mother," she said; "I cannot let her walk home alone. Good-bye, Flossie; I shall see you again, I hope, when we return from North Devon."
So they parted. On the opposite side of the road Hannah and Salome were walking with Mrs. Hayes. Juliet met them as she turned back. Her eyes flashed defiance at her sisters. Mrs. Hayes looked at the girl with hard scrutiny as she bowed to her. She was of opinion that Juliet was not a nice girl.
The following Sunday found Mrs. Tracy and Juliet at Ilfracombe, delighting in the grandeur of that rocky coast and the magnificent sea that beats against it. They had not had such a holiday together for years, and they enjoyed it most thoroughly. Mrs. Tracy was still young at heart; she was, in many respects indeed, far younger than either Hannah or Salome, and she quite enjoyed the novelty of wandering about, taking irregular alfresco repasts, driving in a donkey-carriage when the distance was beyond her walking powers, and almost living out of doors during the glorious August weather. From Ilfracombe they went to Lynton, and there Juliet's uncle joined them.
In spite of his thin, cadaverous appearance Mr. Tracy seemed strong and wiry. He was ready to accompany them on any excursion they liked to plan. He had no objection to picnics, as long as he was not urged to forsake his own regimen. When Juliet and her mother ate sandwiches with the relish imparted by strong, pure air, he would allow himself only the refreshment of two Abernethy biscuits and an acid drop, the latter item being, as he would gravely assure Juliet, safer and better as a thirst-quencher than a draught of water, when one could not be sure that that was absolutely uncontaminated.