musing melancholy in some quiet haunt, weaving
herself and her sorrows into a poem for the
reading of ages. And when twilight comes
on, and the trees stand shadowless in the
cool air, and the crimson begins to grow
brown, and the violet black, in the darkening
window of the great hall, then Hester, returning
homeward by some shrouded alley, where
the walls of olive foliage are draped in a
purple mist and unseen birds sing lullabies to
all nature, will find a weird ghostly troop
coming out to meet her. Anne Boleyn is here
in all her splendour, and the hoary trees sigh
and shake their heads as she goes past. Wicked
Henry, too, strides along, frowning, with the
ghost of a murdered wife on either hand.
There is a shadow and a whisper of every heart-
broken thing that ever might have stolen from
the gilded prison of that palace, to flutter wild
about here with its anguish, sobbing to the
singing of these nightingales. Thus ghouls
and gnomes have grown up within the
paradise.

It was at this time of her life that Hester
gathered up all her childish strength and made
an effort to crave the love of her protectress.
It was not much for the child to ask, but it was
too much for the woman to bestow. And who
shall blame her ? That which one has not got,
how shall one give it away. Hester arrived
one day breathless and panting, her arms full of
prizes, a medal in her hand. She could not
speak, but emptied the treasures in Lady
Humphrey's lap.

"Softly, softly, child!" said Lady Humphrey.
"Such sudden movements are very unladylike.
Now take these things away. I am quite
content. This is nothing but what I have
expected."

And this was nothing but what Hester had
expected also, yet her heart was crying out for
something more. She went swiftly and suddenly
down on her knees, and with passionate tears
besought that the dear madam would love her,
"just a little." And then she knelt trembling
and sobbing in terror at her own boldness.

"Hester!" said Lady Humphrey, in her
iciest tones, "I beg that you will not make
yourself ridiculous. I had hoped that you had
given up these childish vagaries. What more
would you have than I give you? There is no
one in the world from whom you have the right
to claim sixpence, and yet I feed you, clothe
you, and keep you at school."

"Yes," said Hester, suddenly checking her
wild sobs, and becoming quite still.

"You cannot expect these favours to
continue all your life. It is better then for you to
make much of them while they last, than to
disturb yourself about nothing, crying like a
great baby for more than you can get."

"Yes," said Hester, more steadily.

"And let me warn you," added Lady
Humphrey, quite roused by the successful impression
she was making, "that people who go
through the world moaning about love, are only
pretty sure to get laughed at for their pains.
So take these things away, child, and go and
wash your face."

And Hester took up her hard-won prizes and
packed them all away into a dark corner. And
she came back with a very quiet face, and
nothing more was said upon this subject.

But there was a difference in Hester from
that hour forth, and after three silent days she
spoke again.

"Lady Humphrey," she said, "will you tell
me, please, what is to become of me when I am
grown up?"

Lady Humphrey paused a few moments
before she answered, as if considering the child
attentively, her age, her manner, and her
possible meaning. Then she said,

"I believe you will have to earn your bread."

"How am I to earn it, please, my lady?"
said little Hester, eagerly.

"As a teacher, perhaps," said Lady
Humphrey; "if I can afford to keep you long enough
at school. Perhaps as a dressmaker."

Hester lowered her head, and retired, without
a word, to her seat in the corner. Her eyes
wandered round the handsome chamber, and her
fingers went feeling to the dainty pearl necklace
round her throat. Gradually she unloosed
the fastenings as she sat, and the ornament lay
glistening in her lap for a silent hour. Then
she was again at the lady's elbow with the necklace
in her hand.

"I would rather not wear this any more,"
she said.

"What do you mean, you strange creature?"
said Lady Humphrey, rather provoked and
much surprised. "But you must wear it."
she added. "I intend that you shall wear it
at my pleasure. Put it on."

Hester obeyed, but still kept standing, as if
all had not been said. Her hands were pressed
together, so were her lips. The lady went on
writing, as forgetting the child's presence.

"If you please, Lady Humphrey, may I go
back to school to-morrow?"

"What, now?" said Lady Humphrey, frowning
darkly. "Will you tell me what is the
meaning of this new idea?"

"If you please, Lady Humphrey, I would
rather be a teacher."

"You shall at all times do just as I command
you," said her ladyship, in her hardest tones.
"Leave the room now, to begin with."

And Hester vanished at the word, and sought
refuge among the pictures, weeping bitterly to
her dear Mary Stuart.

After this she made rapid progress at her
studies, and was left a whole year undisturbed
in her schoolroom. At the end of that time
Lady Humphrey had need of her, and she sent
for her to come to Hampton Court. A carriage
arrived at Miss Hemisphere's door, and the
coachman had a note for the schoolmistress.
Hester was packed into the coach without
delay, and went wondering all the way to her
destination. Lady Humphrey met her with
more feeling in her manner than Hester had
ever seen in it before.