been even begun. Mrs. Rushton had had no leisure
to think of it. She looked upon Hetty as still only a babe, a marmoset
born to amuse her own hours of ennui. In her brother's occasional
letters he sometimes devoted a line to Hetty. "I hope you are not
spoiling the little girl," he would add as a postscript; or, "I hope the
child is learning something besides monkey-tricks." These insinuations
always annoyed Mrs. Rushton, and she never condescended to answer them.
The suggestion that she had incurred a great responsibility by adopting
Hetty was highly disagreeable to her.

It is hard to say how long this state of things might have gone on had
not Mrs. Rushton's health become delicate. She suddenly found herself
unable to enjoy the gay life which was so much to her natural taste. The
doctors recommended her a quiet sojourn in her native air, and warned
her that she ought to live near friends who felt a real interest in her.

Of what these hints might mean Mrs Rushton did not choose to think, but
physical weakness made her long for the rest of her own country home.

CHAPTER VI.

HETTY AND HER "COUSINS"

One cool fresh evening in October Mrs. Rushton, Hetty, Grant the maid,
and an old man-servant who followed his mistress everywhere, arrived at
the railway-station near Wavertree, and were driven along the old
familiar country road with the soft purpled woods on one side, and the
green plains and distant view of the sea on the other. They arrived at
Amber Hill just as lights began to spring up in the long narrow windows
of the comfortable old gray house, lights more near and bright than the
stars burning dimly above the ancient cedar-trees in the avenue.

Hetty, dressed in a costly pelisse trimmed with fur, leaned forward,
looking eagerly for the first glimpse of her new home. The child had now
only faint recollections of Wavertree, and of her life with Mrs. Kane in
the village, and except for Grant's ill-natured remarks from time to
time she would have forgotten them altogether and imagined herself to be
Mrs. Rushton's niece, as that lady called her when speaking of her to
strangers. Hetty hated Grant, who always took a delight in lowering her
pride, for by this time, it must be owned, pride had become Hetty's
besetting sin.

Mrs. Rushton had perceived Grant's disposition to snub and annoy the
child, and with her usual determination to uphold and justify her own
conduct and disappoint those who disapproved o