there is no way of finding her out in that kind of business. The
foolish country girls who consult her always keep her secret, and
she manages to put on a fair face before our rector and his curate,
who believe her to be a respectable woman.'


The days and weeks slipped by very pleasantly at Thornleigh, and the
end of those bright midsummer holidays came only too soon. It seemed
a bitter thing to say 'good-bye' to Milly Darrell, and to go back
alone to a place which must needs be doubly dull and dreary to me
without her. She had been my only friend at Albury Lodge; loving her
as I did, I had never cared to form any other friendship.

The dreaded day came at last--dreaded I know by both of us; and I
said 'good-bye' to my darling so quietly, that I am sure none could
have guessed the grief I felt in this parting. Mrs. Darrell was very
kind and gracious on this occasion, begging that I would come back
to Thornleigh at Christmas--if they should happen to spend their
Christmas there.

Milly looked up at her wonderingly as she said this.

'Is there any chance of our spending it elsewhere, Augusta?' she
asked.

Mrs. Darrell had persuaded her stepdaughter to use this familiar
Christian name, rather than the more formal mode of address.

'I don't know, my dear. Your papa has sometimes talked of a house in
town, or we might be abroad. I can only say that if we are at home