ime came she was taken, not to the pretty room she had
occupied when last in the house, but to a neat little plain chamber
which was to be henceforth her own. It was not on the same landing with
the bed-rooms of Phyllis and Nell, as she was quick to remark, but at
the end of a long passage off which were the upper maids' bed-rooms, a
fact which stabbed her pride.

It was, however, a nice little room, placed above the passage and
ascended to by a few steps, and it had a picturesque lattice window,
embowered in ivy and passion-flowers. She had hardly comforted herself
by observing this when she was overcast again by a fresh and unpleasant
discovery. Her trunk, which had been sent after her by Mrs. Benson, had
already been unpacked and her things disposed of in a wardrobe. But,
alas! all her handsome clothing had disappeared. Her velvet and silk
frocks trimmed with lace and fur, her sashes and necklaces, silk
stockings and shoes with fantastic rosettes, these and numbers of other
treasures were no longer to be seen in her room. A sufficient quantity
of plain underclothing, a black frock to change the one she wore, a
black hat and jacket, and one or two of her plainest white frocks, these
were all that remained of the possessions which had but yesterday been
hers.

When she had recovered herself sufficiently after this disappointment
to be able to look around the chamber, she saw that her desk and
work-box, and some of her favourite story-books, had been placed on a
table at the window. These she was glad to see, and recovering her
spirits began to remember that after all she had now no right to any of
those costly articles which she had been allowed to use during Mrs.
Rushton's lifetime. As she was to live henceforth a humble dependent in
this house she could have no further need of such luxuries. She had
remarked that Phyllis and Nell were always simply dressed, and yet they
had more right to finery than she had.

Hetty had sufficient good sense to know all this without being told. Her
peculiar experiences had sharpened her reasoning faculties and made her
keenly observant of what passed before her, and had also given her an
unusually acute perception of the meanings and influences floating in
the atmosphere about her from other people's thoughts and words. Child
as she was, she was able to take, for a moment, Mrs. Enderby's view of
her own position, and admitted that the kind yet cold lady had acted
justly in deprivin