he cheek, he said,
addressing Sister Agnes, "Nothing shifty there, at any rate. It is a
face full of candour, and of that innocent fearlessness which childhood
should always have, but too often loses in an evil world. I dare be
bound now, little Janet, that thou art fond of sweetmeats?"

"Oh, yes, sir, if you please."

"By some strange accident I find here in my _soutane_ a tiny box of
bonbons. They might have been put there expressly for a little sweet
tooth of a Janet. Nothing could be more opportune. Take them, my child,
with Father Spiridion's blessing; and sometimes remember his name in thy
prayers."

I did not see Father Spiridion again before I was sent away to school,
but in after years our threads of life crossed and re-crossed each other
strangely, in a way that neither he nor I even dreamed of at that first
interview.

My life at Deepley Walls lengthened out from day to day, and in many
ways I was exceedingly happy. My chief happiness lay in the love of dear
Sister Agnes, with whom I spent at least one or two hours every day.
Then I was very fond of Major Strickland, who, I felt sure, liked me in
return--liked me for myself, and liked me still more, perhaps, for the
strange resemblance which he said I bore to some dear one whom he had
lost many years before. Of George Strickland, too, I was very fond, but
with a shy and diffident sort of liking. I held him as so superior to me
in every way that I could only worship him from a distance. The Major
fetched me over to Rose Cottage several times. Such events were for me
holidays in the true sense of the word. Another source of happiness
arose from the fact that I saw very little of Lady Chillington. The
indifference with which she had at first regarded me seemed to have
deepened into absolute dislike. I was forbidden to enter her apartments,
and I took care not to be seen by her when she was walking or riding
out. I was sorry for her dislike, and yet glad that she dispensed with
my presence. I was far happier in the housekeeper's room, where I was
treated like a little queen. Dance and I soon learned to love each other
very heartily.

Those who have accompanied me thus far may not have forgotten the
account of my first night at Deepley Walls, nor how frightened I was by
the sound of certain mysterious footsteps in the room over mine. The
matter was explained simply enough by Dance next day as a whim of Lady
Chillington, who, for some reason best known to her