Stretched at full length, she propped her chin on her hands and looked up at her mother. "I don't suppose you care," she said, in a clear, almost boyish voice.
"Not much," Mrs. Blake replied with, a smile. "Especially as I rather doubt it."
Addie paused, brush in hand: "I really think you've made a mistake, Lottie."
"Do you really? I haven't, though," said that young lady decidedly.
"It can't besurely," Addie hesitated, with a little shadow on her face.
"Of course no. Is it likely?" said Mrs. Blake, as if the discussion were closed.
"I tell you," said Lottie stubbornly, "Godfrey Hammond told me that Percival's father was the eldest son."
"But it is Horace who has always lived at Brackenhill. Percival only goes on a visit now and then. Every one knows," said Addie, in almost an injured tone, "that Horace is the heir."
Lottie raised her head a little and eyed her sister intently, with amusement, wonder, and a little scorn in her glance. Addie, blissfully unconscious, went on brushing her hair, still with that look of anxious perplexity.
"This is how it was," Lottie exclaimed suddenly. "Percival was just gone, and you were talking to Horace. Up comes Godfrey Hammond, sits down by me, and says some rubbish about consoling me. I think I laughed. Then he looked at me out of his little, light eyes, and said that you and I seemed to get on well with his young friends. So I said, 'Oh yesmiddling.'"
"Upon my word," smiled Mrs. Blake, "you appear to have distinguished yourself in the conversation."
"Didn't I?" said Lottie, untroubled and unabashed: "I know it struck me so at the time. Then he said somethingI forget how he put itabout our being just the right number and pairing off charmingly. So I said, 'Oh, of course the elder ones went together: that was only right.'"
"And what did he say?"
"Oh, he pinched his lips together and smiled, and said, 'Don't you know that Percival is the elder?'"
"But, Lottie, that proves nothing as to his father."
"Who supposed it did? I said 'Fiddlededee! I didn't mean that: I supposed they were much about the same age, or if Percy were a month or two older it made no difference. I meant that Horace was the eldest son's son, so of course he was A 1.'"
"Well?" said Addie.
"Well, then he looked twice as pleased with himself as he did before, and said, 'I don't think Horace told you that. It so happens that Percival is not only the elder by a month or two, as you say, but he is the son of the eldest son.' Then I said 'Oh!' and mamma called me for something, and I went."
Mrs. Blake and Addie exchanged glances.
"Now, could I have made a mistake?" demanded Lottie.
"It seems plain enough, certainly," her mother allowed.
"Then, could Godfrey Hammond have made a mistake? Hasn't he known the Thornes all their lives? and didn't he say once that he was named Godfrey after their old grandfather?"
Mrs. Blake assented.
"Then," said the girl, relapsing into her recumbent position, "perhaps you'll believe me another time."
"Perhaps," said Mrs. Blake: "we'll see when the other time comes. If it is as you say, it is curious." She rose as she spoke and went to the farther end of the room. As she stood by an open drawer putting away the ornaments which she had taken off, the candlelight revealed a shadow of perplexity on her face which increased the likeness between herself and Addie. Apparently, Lottie was right as to her facts. The estate was not entailed, then, and despotic power seemed to be rather capriciously exercised by the head of the house. If Horace should displease his grandfatherif, for instance, he chose a wife of whom old Mr. Thorne did not approvewould his position be very secure? Mrs. Blake was uneasy, and felt that it was very wrong of people to play tricks with the succession to an estate like Brackenhill.
Meanwhile, Lottie watched her sister, who was thoughtfully drawing her fingers through her long hair. "Addie," she said, after a pause, "what will you do if Horace isn't the heir after all?"
"What a silly question! I shan't do anything: there's nothing for me to do."
"But shall you mind very much? You are very fond of Horace, aren't you?"
"Fond of him!" Addie repeated. "He is very pleasant to talk to, if you mean that."
"Oh, you can't deceive me so! I believe that you are in love with him," said Lottie solemnly.
The color rushed to Addie's face when her vaguely tender sentiments, indefinite as Horace's attentions, were described in this startling fashion. "Indeed, I'm nothing of the kind," she said hurriedly. "Pray don't talk such utter nonsense, Lottie. If you have nothing more sensible to say, you had better hold your tongue."
"But why are you ashamed of it?" Lottie persisted: "I wouldn't be." She had an unsuspected secret herself, but she would have owned it proudly enough had she been challenged.
"I'm not ashamed," said Addie; "and you know nothing about being in love, so you had better not talk about it."
"Oh yes, I do!" was the reply, uttered with Lottie's calm simplicity of manner: "I know how to tell whether you are in love or not, Addie. What would you do if a girl were to win Horace Thorne away from you?"
Pride and a sense of propriety dictated Addie's answer and gave sharpness to her voice: "I should say she was perfectly welcome to him."
Lottie considered for a moment: "Yes, I suppose one might say so to her, but what would you do? Wouldn't you want to kill her? And wouldn't you die of a broken heart?"
Addie was horrified: "I don't want to kill anybody, and I'm not going to die for Mr. Horace Thorne. Please don't say such things, Lottie: people never do. You forget he is only an acquaintance."
"No; I don't think you are in love with him, certainly." Lottie pronounced this decision with the air of one who has solved a difficult problem.
"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Blake inquired, coming back, and glancing from Addie's flushed and troubled face to Lottie's thoughtful eyes.
"I was asking Addie if she didn't want Horace to be the heir. I know you do, mammaoh, just for his own sake, because you think he's the nicest, don't you? I heard you tell him one day "here Lottie looked up with a candid gaze and audaciously imitated Mrs. Blake's manner"that though we knew his cousin first, heHorace, you knowseemed to drop so naturally into all our ways that it was quite delightful to feel that we needn't stand on any ceremony with him."
"Good gracious, Lottie! what do you mean by listening to every word I say?"
"I didn't listenI heard," said Lottie. "I always do hear when you say your words as if they had little dashes under them."
"Well, Horace Thorne is easier to get on with than his cousin," said Mrs. Blake, taking no notice of Lottie's mimicry.
"There, I said so: mamma would like it to be Horace. Nobody asks what I should likenobody thinks about me and Percival."
"Oh, indeed! I wasn't aware," said Mrs. Blake. "When is that to come off? I dare say you will look very well in orange-blossoms and a pinafore!"
"Oh, you think I'm too young, do you? But a little while ago you were always saying that I was grown up, and oughtn't to want any more childish games. What was I to do?"
"Upon my word!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake. "I'll buy you a doll for a birthday present, to keep you out of mischief."