would not. She would sooner disbelieve
her senses or suppose that two and two made
three, than accept the possibility of such
an ungrateful change, She returned again
and again, the other grew more and more
arrogant; and from her new " nice " friend
she was inseparable.

One day when they were engrossed in
talk, and the future heiress was explaining
what state they would have at Panton, how
many horses she would keep, &c. (her
favourite theme), Jessica approached humbly.

"Well, what is it?" the other said,
peevishly. " I don't want you. You are always
persecuting me."

Each of these nine words was a stab,
each went deeper, until at last she could
have given a scream. Some date a whole
change in their system, their life itself,
from a fit of sickness, from some shock; and
it was so with her. She retired almost
reeling. What she could not see before
she was forced to see now, as though some
one were thrusting the flame of a candle
close to her eyes. From that moment she
shrank from Laura quite scared; though she
was still open to explanation of some kind.
But the gap or chasm opened finally when
the time came for the heiress to go away
home, when she heard some of the pupils
talking over every incident of the departure
as though it were that of a royal personage.
Her father, Sir Charles, had given her leave
to choose a friend " whom she liked" from
among the girls, to take home with her to
amuse her during the vacation. This news
produced the most tremendous excitement:
some even said that Miss Proudfoot herself
nourished faint hopes of being the selected
companion, having performed prodigies in
the way of obsequious adoration of her
pupil, fawning on her, and plying her with
praises of herself and of her " dear good
father." The young girl, quite overset
with her sudden turn of prosperity, did
not care to restrain herself from any
extravagance, and behaved with an amusing
wantonness of arrogance, holding out hopes
to some, but all the while pledged to her
dear friend the baronet's sister-in-law. To
others she made promises, but the faithful
worshipping Jessica she passed over. When
the morning came, and the carriage was
waiting at the door, and the whole house
was obsequiously gathered to see her go forth
with her chosen companion, the baronet's
sister-in-law, there was prodigious
embracing all round; the clergyman's daughter
standing at a distance, with a strange
look upon her face, a kind of bewildered
stare. It at last came to her turn, and
with a sort of constraint Laura turned to
bestow her parting accolade. But, to Miss
Proudfoot's horror, Jessica, cold, stiff, and
with a steady stare in her eyes, drew back.

"No," she said; " I cannot. I could not
touch you not for the whole world."

"As you please," said the other, coolly,
and, getting into the carriage, drove away in
her glory, the principals and scholars being
inexpressibly shocked at this conduct. But
from that hour all noticed a most singular
change in the parson's daughter, who
advanced at one stride half way on her path
to womanhood. That discovery made her
cold and hard, as she was before impulsive
and affectionate; calculating and distrustful,
a most " disagreeable creature," it was
pronounced, but far more able to hold her
own and get on in the world.

In the carriage which was taking Laura
away that happy day there sat a young
man of thirty, with very dark eyes, a
forbidding uninviting expression, which some
would have called "a scowl." People
would have passed him by without
sympathy; but any one who came in contact
with him in any trifling contention, say
about a seat, went from him flushed and
put out, and saying, " That ill-conditioned
fellow!" This gentleman, a friend of her
father's, was Mr. Dudley, a distant cousin,
who came very often to the school to see his
relation. It was known even to the girls
that she did not relish these visits— " He
was so dark and ugly," she said to her
friends— and that every time he brought
her presents she always seemed merely to
endure him. Some of the girls, however,
thought him " deeply piratical" and
interesting, and also that he could smile sweetly.

But when she had thus left the school, and
was established in all her splendour, as Miss
Panton, of Panton Castle, her proceedings
became of profound interest to the
neighbourhood. It was seen also that Dudley
was always about the place, either staying at
the castle, or in the town, where he would
appear in a small yacht at unexpected
seasons. As the schoolgirl became a " young
lady," it seemed to be her humour to
exhibit that strange fitfulness and uncertainty
of humour which wealth and indulgence
had now made her character. For him her
father had a curious pity or partiality, and
was ever saying, " Let us have that poor
fellow Dudley here. He's your terrier dog,
your worshipper." At which she would
protest fretfully that she hated and loathed
him, and would almost cry if the plan were