know that I love you dearly?' In answer to this Grace kissed the
withered hand she held in hers, while the warm tears trickled upon Miss
Prettyman's knuckles. 'I love you as though you were my own,' exclaimed
the schoolmistress; 'and will you not trust me, that I know what is best
for you?'

'I must go home,' said Grace.

'Of course you shall, if you think it right at last; but let us talk of
it. No one in the house, you know, has the slightest suspicion that your
father has done anything that is in the least dishonourable.'

'I know that you have not.'

'No, nor has Anne.' Miss Prettyman said this as though no one in that
house beyond herself and her sister had a right to have any opinion on
any subject.

'I know that,' said Grace.

'Well, my dear. If we think so--'

'But the servant, Miss Prettyman?'

'If any servant in this house says a word to offend you, I'll--I'll--'

'They don't say anything, Miss Prettyman, but they look. Indeed, I'd
better go home. Indeed I had!'

'Do not you think your mother has cares enough upon her, and burden