"You were punctual, Miss Muir, which pleases me. I'm a sad invalid, as
Lady Sydney told you, I hope; so that Miss Coventry's lessons will be
directed by my niece, and you will go to her for directions, as she
knows what I wish. You will excuse me if I ask you a few questions, for
Lady Sydney's note was very brief, and I left everything to her
judgment."

"Ask anything you like, madam," answered the soft, sad voice.

"You are Scotch, I believe."

"Yes, madam."

"Are your parents living?"

"I have not a relation in the world."

"Dear me, how sad! Do you mind telling me your age?"

"Nineteen." And a smile passed over Miss Muir's lips, as she folded her
hands with an air of resignation, for the catechism was evidently to be
a long one.

"So young! Lady Sydney mentioned five-and-twenty, I think, didn't
she, Bella?"

"No, Mamma, she only said she thought so. Don't ask such questions. It's
not pleasant before us all," whispered Bella.

A quick, grateful glance shone on her from the suddenly lifted eyes of