extraordinary in my request," replied Gabrielle,
smiling. "I want to say something to Miss
Carrington, and to wish her good night—and—
and this would be a good opportunity."

"'Say something,' yes, I should think you
did, after what passed at dinner-time."

Gabrielle turned crimson at this rough allusion;
but she was prepared for disagreeables,
and stuck to her point.

"Well," she said, "what do you say? Will
you let me have the tray?"

Cantanker again took time to consider this
outrageous proposition before she replied.

"I've taken up my mistress's meals ever
since she was old enough to want meals at all;
and it's my place, and I can't, for the life of me,
see what business—if you'll excuse me, Mrs.
Pingmore—it can possibly be of yours. I have
no wish to let others than myself attend upon
my mistress, and more especially when those
others is not well disposed towards her, as is
certain in the present case, after what has
occurred this very day."

This, one would naturally have concluded,
was likely to be final, the more especially as
Cantanker was concluding her preparations,
and getting everything ready for her ascent to
her mistress's bedroom. But Gabrielle was in
earnest, and was not to be put off so easily.

"But I just told you," she urged, smiling in
the most bewitching manner she could, "that
it is because of what occurred to-day that I want
you to let me have my way in this. I don't
want to supersede you in your legitimate office.
You can come up afterwards and see that Miss
Carrington is comfortable for the night. But
what I do want is, to have this opportunity of
paying Miss Carrington a little attention, and
of telling her that I bear no malice, after what
has occurred to-day."

"'Bear no malice,'" retorted this crabbed woman,
not willing to lose an opportunity of carping;
"no, I should think not. It's them that
are injured and insulted that has the right to
bear malice, or to let it stand over."

Mrs. Penmore allowed this amiable speech to
pass unnoticed, but she felt it, nevertheless,
keenly.

"And how do you know, or how do I know,"
continued Cantauker, "that my mistress would
wish to see you, or be attended by you?"

"Yes, but the only way to find that out is to
try," said Gabrielle, with another smile.

Importunity and perseverance, and the great
system of refusing to take "No" for an answer,
were doing their work as usual, and Gabrielle
began to think that she saw symptoms of a
tendency to relent in her grim antagonist.

"I am sure you will not continue to refuse
me what I wish so much?" she said.

"It's my place," reiterated the handmaiden,
taking up her former position, but more faintly
than before, "and I cannot, for the very life of
me, think why I should be asked to go out of my
place, at this time of day, for a fancy." And
this amiable woman looked exceedingly resolute
and exceedingly indisposed to yield the point.

"Yes, I know it is a fancy," replied Gabrielle,
"and I know it is your place to take up Miss
Carrington's supper, and that you like to do
so, and that she likes you to do so," added
the flatterer; "but I thought that just for
once——"

"It's the strangest thing I ever heered of in
my life," said the icy one, perhaps half a degree
thawed by Mrs. Penmore's little compliment.
She was standing with the tray, which was now
prepared, in both her hands, and staring as
before.

"Come," said Gabrielle, and she took the
tray in her hands, and smiled as they both held
it. It looked a very inviting tray, with a snowy
napkin spread over it, the eggs hidden under
their bright metal cover, the symmetrical piece
of bread by the side, and, lastly, the stout foaming
in its jug.

"Come," said Mrs. Penmore, "you must let
me have the privilege for once."

Cantanker still looked very sulky.

"Well, I wash my hands of it," she said.
"If my mistress is angry, I'm not to blame."

But Gabrielle had got the tray, and lost no
time in making off with it.

"I never heered of such a thing in my life,"
said Cantanker, again looking after her viciously;
and she went on muttering, with a sound like
distant thunder, and so she remained standing
in the stone corridor outside the kitchen.

Charlotte held a candle at the foot of the
kitchen stairs to light her mistress. After that
there was the lamp in the passage.

By the time that Gabrielle had reached the
first floor, she was so out of breath, between the
stairs and her agitation at the thought of what
she was doing, that she was obliged to go into
the drawing-room, tray and all, to recover herself
a little. After that she proceeded on her
mission. She paused again when she had reached
Miss Carrington's landing, and, putting the tray
down on the floor, knocked for admittance.

A rather faint voice bade her "come in," and
she entered.

The room was dimly lighted. Miss Carrington
was seated before the fire in an easy-chair,
with her back to the door.

"You are later than usual, Cantanker, aren't
you?" she said, in a languid voice, and without
looking round.

Gabrielle felt the awkwardness of the situation
very keenly. Her last parting with Miss
Carrington, and that but a few hours before,
had been certainly in anger. That parting was
to be final, and the next day this most
unmanageable lady was to leave the house. No doubt
this present meeting must be an awkward one.

"I'm afraid you will be disappointed," Gabrielle
began. At the sound of her voice, Miss
Carrington started, and turned swiftly round.

"Where is Jane?" she said. "Is anything
the matter?"

"Nothing whatever. I asked for leave to
bring you your supper to-night, and obtained it
with great difficulty."

Miss Carrington appeared much bewildered