'It is sad,' Jacinth agreed.
The next morning saw Colonel Mildmay's departure for home.
Then began for Jacinth a quiet, regular, but far from unenjoyable life. Lady Myrtle had already made inquiries about the best teachers, and such of these as undertook the special subjects the girl wished to give her time to were engaged for her. So several hours of each day were soon told off for lessons and preparation for them. As a rule, Lady Myrtle drove out in the afternoon, her young guest accompanying her, sometimes to pay calls to such of the visitors to the place as were old friends, or in some few cases new acquaintances of hers; sometimes out into the beautiful country in the neighbourhood, beautiful even in mid-winter, where the views were as varied as charming.
And as a rule, between twelve and one o'clock, sometimes too in the afternoon if the old lady were not feeling well enough for a drive, Jacinth went for a brisk walk with Clayton as her duenna.
It was during one of these walks that something most unexpected happened one day. Lady Myrtle had caught a slight cold and been forbidden to go out. It was a bright but somewhat treacherous day, for though the sunshine was warm there was a sharp, almost icy, 'under air' painfully perceptible in the shade.
'I feel roasted and frozen at once; don't you, Clayton?' said Jacinth laughingly, as they crossed the road to get into the warmth, such as it was, again.
'Yes, indeed, Miss Mildmay,' the maid agreed. 'It's a day when you need both a parasol and a muff together. For there is such a glare.'
A glare there was, truly. Snow had been falling now and then during the last day or two, and though but in light and short showers, the ground was sufficiently frozen for it to 'lie;' so that the sunshine, not powerful enough to melt it, save here and there very superficially, was reflected from the gleaming surface with extraordinary brilliancy.
'We really should have snow spectacles,' Jacinth was saying, when a sudden shock made her aware that in her dazzled state she had run foul of some one or something standing on the pathway just in front of her.
'I beg your pardon,' she exclaimed instinctively, and the stranger turning sharply—for she had been looking in the forward direction—almost at the same moment made the same apology, adding quickly, when she heard Jacinth's English voice, 'I should not be blocking up the'——But her sentence was never completed. 'Oh, can it be you? Jacinth—Jacinth Mildmay? Is Frances here? Oh, how delightful.—Camilla,' as an older girl came across the road in her direction, 'Camilla, just fancy—this is Jacinth. I can scarcely believe it,' and before Jacinth had had time to say a word, she felt two clinging arms thrown round her neck, and kisses pressed on her burning cheeks, by the sweet, loving lips of Bessie Harper.