Black Rainbow by KATHY

respect is really necessary; may she not tutoyer her uncle by courtesy, Miss O'Neill?"
    "Oh, I know about that," Lina said. "I say 'tu ' to Ta-chin, and sometimes to Aunt Jane, if she is in a very good mood."
    After a solemn discussion of this important matter Lina retired to the window seat and the companionship of her new doll, whose elaborate French wardrobe was already showing signs of wear, having been changed so often and so impatiently. Megan's head was bent over her embroidery. She dared not look at Edmund too long, for fear her face would betray feelings she had no right to have.
    After a brief silence, broken only by Lina's admonitions to her doll, Edmund said pensively, "This dear old shabby room. What memories it holds!"
    "Don't let Lizzie hear you call it shabby," Jane said. "She drove the servants to the brink of revolution cleaning for you."
    "You have both done a splendid job," Edmund said warmly. "I am not unaware of the labor and sacrifice you have carried too long on your small shoulders, Jane. I am here to relieve you of that burden, and my first task shall be to give this dear old house the thorough refurbishing it deserves."
    "It suits me just as it is," Jane said quietly.
    "You are a dear, old-fashioned little thing, Jane. If you had your way, nothing would ever change. I know you have little taste for fashion and elegance; I am counting on Miss O'Neill's advice in such matters, for she has seen many fine homes."
    Megan pricked her finger. Exultation filled her heart at the seduction of the picture that rose before her inward eye: she and Edmund consulting like husband and wife over homely details of furniture and draperies!
    "I cannot claim to be an expert," she said modestly. "But of course, Mr. Mandeville, if I can help in any way. . . ."
    "I am sure you can. I was impressed, in our first conversation, by your knowledge of antiquities. A venerable old manor house like this one should interest you, and your recollections of your family seat in Ireland may assist in the restorations I plan."
    "I was only a child when I was last in Ireland," Megan said. But she said it very softly.
    "You terrify me, Edmund, with your talk of restorations," Jane exclaimed. "Will you tear the house down around my ears?"
    "My dear girl, I shan't begin anything major for quite some time; it is necessary to plan such things carefully. But the house must be spruced up; I cannot invite guests while it is in its present condition. The new drawing-room furniture I ordered should arrive this week. In the meantime, I will decide what is needed for the guest bedrooms."
    Jane started to speak, then glanced at Megan and pressed her lips tightly together. The anguished glance with which she swept the room was that of a mother bewailing a change in her favorite child.
    Megan sympathized, but she quite agreed with Edmund's appraisal. The damask draperies had once been vivid crimson; they were now faded to a soft rose, pleasing to the eye but otherwise unsuitable; and she could well believe that every piece of furniture in the room had been bought with the house at the time of its sale to Edmund's grandfather. The slender lines and simple wooden frames of sofas and chairs appeared austere and cold compared with the luxuriant carving of modern furniture.
    She did not voice this opinion, however; in fact, her position was somewhat awkward, for it was clear that brother and sister were in total opposition on the question of refurnishing. Megan's presence restrained Jane from expressing her true feelings. And Megan wondered, suddenly, whether Edmund had made use of her and the child to avoid what might otherwise have developed into a serious difference of opinion. It was not a flattering thought.
    "We will see what can be done tomorrow, then," said Edmund. "What do you say to some music, Miss O'Neill?"
    Their voices blended in the most ravishing manner. Megan was in seventh heaven. Edmund's attention was fixed on her, his eyes constantly