stars burning dimly above the ancient cedar-trees in the avenue.

Hetty, dressed in a costly pelisse trimmed with fur, leaned forward,
looking eagerly for the first glimpse of her new home. The child had now
only faint recollections of Wavertree, and of her life with Mrs. Kane in
the village, and except for Grant's ill-natured remarks from time to
time she would have forgotten them altogether and imagined herself to be
Mrs. Rushton's niece, as that lady called her when speaking of her to
strangers. Hetty hated Grant, who always took a delight in lowering her
pride, for by this time, it must be owned, pride had become Hetty's
besetting sin.

Mrs. Rushton had perceived Grant's disposition to snub and annoy the
child, and with her usual determination to uphold and justify her own
conduct and disappoint those who disapproved of her views, she had put
down the maid's impertinence with a high hand, and had grown more and
more careful of late to protect Hetty's dignity before the servants.

"I hope Miss Gray's room is as nice as I desired you to make it," she
said to the housekeeper who was welcoming her in the hall. "I hope you
have engaged a maid from the village to attend on her. I require all
Grant's attentions now myself," she added wearily, falling into a chair
in a state of exhaustion. "Hetty, my love, give me a kiss, and go and
have a pretty frock put on for dinner."

Polly, the new maid, had already unpacked the little girl's trunks and
was waiting in her room to dress her in white muslin and lace and
arrange her soft dark curls in a charming wreath round her head. Hetty's
room was an exquisite little nest draped in pale blue chintz covered
with roses, and with fantastic little brackets here and there bearing