the convent parlour. The only thing which it
is necessary to relate is the fact that she
insisted that her dear Hester, so soon to be torn
away from her, should pay her at least a short
visit at Hampton Court before her departure.

This Hester unwillingly agreed to. Yet why
should it have been unwillingly? Was ever
doating mother more careful and fond than
Lady Humphrey was daily proving herself now?
If Hester had been about to become a bride,
this good friend could not have furnished her
with a more generous trousseau. She should
not be a shabby Hester going to live among fine
people; she should not want for a becoming
gown to appear in, when that time should
arrive, which Lady Humphrey foresaw, when a
glimpse of her pretty face should be desired in
a castle drawing-room. She should not be kept
away in the background through the need of
fitting attire; she should be furnished at all
points and for all seasons like a lady.

And Hester was confounded and overwhelmed
with much bounty. Had she ever, indeed, been
sufficiently grateful to Lady Humphrey? Had
it not been her own perverse nature which had
hindered her loving this friend? Now, when
the hour of separation, perhaps for ever, was
drawing near, her heart swelled in regret, and
reproached her with sore pain.

And there were many little instructions and
advices to be given.

"You will write to me constantly, of course,
my dear love?" said Lady Humphrey; "and
you will always speak of me kindly, will you
not, my little Hester?"

"Oh, Lady Humphrey!" said Hester, blushing
guiltily, but with sincere pain for the past,
and a desire to be very loyal in the future.

"I may not have been wise, my love," said
Lady Humphrey, " but I have acted for the
best, as far as I could see. And I wish to warn
you, my dear, that these people to whom you
are going are possessed by a prejudice against
me. We were friends in former days, but
mischief was made between us. Yet long absence
has not deprived me of all interest in their
fate."

Lady Humphrey paused. Hester was silent
and surprised, not knowing what to say.

"And you, too, dear Hester," Lady
Humphrey continued, presently, " you also must feel
an interest in these good people, who have been
so kind to you—in that dear lady of the
convent, and in her brother, who did you so
important a service."

"Yes," said Hester, readily.

"Well, then, my love, I will entrust you with
a secret," said Lady Humphrey, lowering her
voice and with an air of deep concern. "There
is a way in which you and I can be of use to
these worthy people. We can save them,
perhaps, from trouble—from destruction."

"Can we?" said Hester, with open amazed
eyes.

"You know, my dear love, that the country
of Ireland to which you are going is disturbed
by revolutionary troubles—nay, you need not
turn pale, all is peace in the neighbourhood of
Glenluce. But Sir Archie Munro may be
implicated—may be suspected of encouraging the
people elsewhere to rebellion. Do you
understand me, dear Hester?"

"I understand," said Hester, faintly.

"In case such things were proved against
him he must be seized—perhaps hanged," said
Lady Humphrey. " But it may lie with you
and me to avert this danger from his head."

"How?" asked Hester, fearfully.

"By watching over his interests," said Lady
Humphrey, with enthusiasm. "I am here, you
see, in London, and I have friends," she added
mysteriously. "You watch well over Sir
Archie's movements at Glenluce. Write me
constantly, and describe events without reserve.
Thus kept constantly informed of all his doings,
I shall be able, from my knowledge of facts, to
keep all danger and suspicion from his path."

The very vagueness of this speech gave it an
especially terrible meaning for Hester. She
had heard of troubles in Ireland, but she had
not thought about them until now. And she
was to do so great a service to these friends
who had been so good to her. And this was
Lady Humphrey, whom she had feared, who
was enabling her to do it. Oh, how stupid, and
blind, and unfeeling, she had been!

"You must remember, my little Hester, that
this is a secret between you and me," said
Lady Humphrey, by-and-by, having watched
some time in silence how her instructions had
been received, how they had sunk in and settled
down, with a great hold, in Hester's mind.
"You will promise never to repeat what I have
just said to you. It would be terrible to give
a hint of it to our dear friend, the Mother
Augustine. It would needlessly alarm and give
her pain. You will promise?"

"I promise," said Hester, solemnly; then
laid hold of Lady Humphrey's hand and kissed
it.

"God bless you, Lady Humphrey!" she
said. "You are a good, good woman!"

Pierce Humphrey arrived one evening to bid
adieu to little Hester. He had written to her
apologising for his conduct at the ball, and she
had long ago forgotten the offence; so also, it
would seem, had he himself.

"So you are going to Glenluce, little
Hester?" said Mr. Pierce. "You are going to live
under the roof with my Janet. What a friendship
you and she will strike up!"

"Oh, no!" said Hester, quickly. " That is
not likely, indeed; for you know I am not going
as a lady."

"Pooh! nonsense!" said Pierce Humphrey,
laughing. "You could not be anything else, if
you tried. Yes, you and she will surely be good
friends. And I think you will say a word for
me, little Hester?"

"That I will," said Hester, smiling, " if I am
allowed to have a chance."

"Nay, I think you will make a chance," said
Pierce, coaxingly. "You, must talk to her