PERPLEXITY.

Barbara was roused early next morning by Eve; Eve had overslept herself when she ought to be up; she woke and rose early when another hour of rest would have been a boon to poor Barbara. The sisters occupied adjoining rooms that communicated, and the door was always open between them. When Eve was awake she would not suffer her sister to sleep on. She stooped over her and kissed her closed eyes till she woke. Eve had thrown open the window, and the sweet fresh air blew in. The young girl was not more than half dressed. She stood by Barbara’s bed with her lovely hair dishevelled about her head, ing a halo of red-gold glory to her face. That face was lovely with its delicate roses of health and happiness, and the blue eyes twinkling in it full of life and fun. Her neck was exposed. She folded her slender arms round Barbara’s head and shook it, and kissed again, till the tired, sleep-stupefied girl awoke.

‘I cannot sleep this lovely morning,’ said Eve; then, with true feminine non-sequitur; ‘So you must get up, Barbie.’

‘Oh, Eve, is it time?’ Barbara sat up in bed instantly wide awake. Her sister seated herself on the side of the bed and laid her hand in her lap.

‘Eve!’ exclaimed Barbara suddenly, ‘what have you there—on your finger? Who gave you that?’

‘It is a ring, Bab. Is it not beautiful, a forget-me-not of turquoise set in a circlet of gold?’

‘Who gave it you, Eve?’

‘A pixy gift!’ laughed the girl carelessly.

‘This will not do. You must answer me. Where did you get it?’

‘I found it, Barbie.’

‘Found it—where?’

‘Where are forget-me-nots usually found?’ Then hastily, before her sister could speak, ‘But what a lovely ring you have got on your pincushion, Bab! Mine cannot compare with it. Is that the ring I heard the maids say you lost?’

‘Yes, dear.’

‘How did you recover it? Who found it for you?’

‘Jasper.’

Eve turned her ring on her finger.

‘My darling,’ said Barbara, ‘you have not been candid with me about that ring. Did Dr. Coyshe give it to you?’

‘Dr. Coyshe! Oh, Barbara, that ever you should think of me as aspiring to be Mrs. Squash!’

‘When did you get the ring?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘Who gave it to you? You must tell me.’

‘I have already told you—I found it by the wood, as truly as you found yours on the down.’

Suddenly Barbara started, and her heart beat fast.

‘Eve!—where is the ribbon and your mother’s ring? You used to have that ring always in your bosom. Where is it? Have you parted with that?’

Eve’s colour rose, flushing face and throat and bosom.

‘Oh, darling!’ exclaimed Barbara, ‘answer me truly. To whom have you given that ring?’

‘I have not given it; I have lost it. You must not be angry with me, Bab. You lost yours.’ Eve’s eyes sank as she spoke, and her voice faltered.

The elder sister did not speak for a moment; she looked hard at Eve, who stood up and remained before her in a pretty penitential attitude, but unable to meet her eye.

Barbara considered. Whom could her sister have met? There was no one, absolutely no one she could think of, if Mr. Coyshe were set aside, but Jasper. Now Barbara had disapproved of the way in which Eve ran after Jasper before she departed for Ashburton. She had remonstrated, but she knew that her remonstrances carried small weight. Eve was a natural coquette. She loved to be praised, admired, made much of. The life at Morwell was dull, and Eve sought society of any sort where she could chatter and attract admiration and provoke a compliment. Eve had not made any secret of her liking for Jasper, but Barbara had not thought there was anything serious in the liking. It was a child’s fancy. But then, she considered, would any man’s heart be able to withstand the pretty wiles of Eve? Was it possible for Jasper to be daily associated with this fairy creature and not love her?

‘Eve,’ said Barbara gravely, ‘it is of no use trying concealment with me. I know who gave you the ring. I know more than you suppose.’

‘Jasper has been telling tales,’ exclaimed Eve.

Barbara winced but did not speak.

Eve supposed that Jasper had informed her sister about the meeting with Watt on the Raven Rock.

‘Are you going to sleep again?’ asked Eve, as Barbara had cast herself back on her pillow with the face in it. The elder sister shook her head and made a sign with her hand to be left alone.

When Barbara was nearly dressed, Eve stole on tiptoe out of her own room into that of her sister. She was uneasy at Barbara’s silence; she thought her sister was hurt and offended with her. So she stepped behind her, put her arms round her waist, as Barbara stood before the mirror, and her head over her sister’s shoulder, partly that she might kiss her cheek, partly also that she might see her own face in the glass and contrast it with that of Barbara. ‘You are not cross with me?’ she said coaxingly.

‘No, Eve, no one can be cross with you.’ She turned and kissed her passionately. ‘Darling! you must give back the little ring and recover that of your mother.’

‘It is impossible,’ answered Eve.

‘Then I must do what I can for you,’ said Barbara. Barbara was resolved what to do. She would speak to her father, if necessary; but before that she must have a word on the matter with Jasper. It was impossible to tolerate an attachment and secret engagement between him and her sister.

She sought an opportunity of speaking privately to the young man, and easily found one. But when they were together alone, she discovered that it was not easy to approach the topic that was uppermost in her mind.

‘I was very tired last night, Mr. Jasper,’ she said, ‘over-tired, and I am hardly myself this morning. The loss of my aunt, the funeral, the dividing of her poor little treasures, and then the lengthy ride, upset me. It was very ridiculous of me last night to cry, but a girl takes refuge in tears when overspent, it relieves and even refreshes her.’

Then she hesitated and looked down. But Barbara had a strong will, and when she had made up her mind to do what she believed to be right, allowed no weakness to interfere with the execution.

‘And now I want to speak about something else. I must beg you will not encourage Eve. She is a child, thoughtless and foolish.’

‘Yes; she should be kept more strictly guarded. I do not encourage her. I regret her giddiness, and give her good advice, which she casts to the winds. Excuse my saying it, but you and Mr. Jordan are spoiling the child.’

‘My father and I spoil Eve! That is not possible.’

‘You think so; I do not. The event will prove which is right, Miss Jordan.’

Barbara was annoyed. What right had Jasper to dictate how Eve was to be treated?

‘That ring,’ began Barbara, and halted.

‘It is not lost again, surely!’ said Jasper.

Barbara frowned. ‘I am not alluding to my ring which you found along with my glove, but to that which you gave to Eve.’

‘I gave her no ring; I do not understand you.’

‘It is a pretty little thing, and a toy. Of course you only gave it her as such, but it was unwise.’

‘I repeat, I gave her no ring, Miss Jordan.’

‘She says that she found it, but it is most improbable.’

Jasper laughed, not cheerfully; there was always a sadness in his laughter. ‘You have made a great mistake, Miss Jordan. It is true that your sister found the ring. That is, I conclude she did, as yesterday she found a chest in the garret full of old masquerading rubbish, and a tambourine, and I know not what besides.’

A load was taken off Barbara’s mind. So Eve had not deceived her.

‘She showed me a number of her treasures,’ said Jasper. ‘No doubt whatever that she found the ring along with the other trumpery.’

Barbara’s face cleared. She drew a long breath. ‘Why did not Eve tell me all?’ she said.

‘Because,’ answered the young man, ‘she was afraid you would be angry with her for getting the old tawdry stuff out of the box, and she asked me not to tell you of it. Now I have betrayed her confidence, I must leave to you, Miss Jordan, to make my peace with Miss Eve.’

‘She has also lost something that hung round her throat.’

‘Very likely. She was, for once, hard at work in the garret, moving boxes and hampers. It is lying somewhere on the floor. If you wish it I will search for her ornament, and hope my success will be equal to that of last night.’ He looked down at her hand. The ring was not on it. She observed his glance and said coldly, ‘My ring does not fit me, and I shall reserve it till I am old, or till I find some young lady friend to whom I must make a wedding present.’ Then she turned away. She walked across the Abbot’s Meadow, through which the path led to the rocks, because she knew that Eve had gone in that direction. Before long she encountered her sister returning with a large bunch of foxgloves in her hand.

‘Do look, Bab!’ exclaimed Eve, ‘is not this a splendid sceptre? A wild white foxglove with thirty-seven bells on it.’

‘Eve!’ said Barbara, her honest face alight with pleasure; ‘my dearest, I was wrong to doubt you. I know now where you found the ring, and I am not in the least cross about it. There, kiss and make peace.’

‘I wish the country folk had a prettier name for the foxglove than flop-a-dock,’ said Eve.

‘My dear,’ said Barbara, ‘you shall show me the pretty things you have found in the attic.’

‘What—Bab?’

‘I know all about it. Jasper has proved a traitor.’

‘What has he told you?’

‘He has told me where you found the turquoise ring, together with a number of fancy ball dresses.’

Eve was silent. A struggle went on in her innocent heart. She hated falsehood. It pained her to deceive her sister, who had such perfect faith in her. She felt inclined to tell her all, yet she dared not do so. In her heart she longed to hear more of Martin. She remembered his handsome face, his flattering and tender words, the romance of that night. No! she could not tell Barbara.

‘We will go together into the garret,’ said Barbara, ‘and search for your mother’s ring. It will easily be found by the blue ribbon to which it is attached.’

Then Eve laughed, held her sister at arms’ length, thrusting the great bunch of purple and white foxgloves against her shoulder, so that their tall heads nodded by her cheek and ear. ‘No, Bab, sweet, I did not find the ring in the chest with the gay dresses. I did not lose the ring of my mother’s in the loft. I tell you the truth, but I tell you no more.’

‘Oh, Eve!’ Barbara’s colour faded. ‘Who was it? I implore you, if you love me, tell me.’

‘I love you dearly, but no.’ She curtsied. ‘Find out if you can.’ Then she tripped away, waving her foxgloves.