rself of
having underrated him.

"Please let me help you when I can, Mr. Grace," she said; "I am not
blaming anybody--there is no real blame, even if I had the right to
attach it to any one; but there are mistakes now and then, and you must
promise me that I may use my influence to prevent them."

She had stopped at the gate to say this, and she held out her hand. It
was a strange thing that she could be so utterly oblivious of the pain
she inflicted. But even Derrick would have taken her hand with less
self-control. He was so fearful of wounding or disturbing her, that he
was continually on his guard in her presence, and especially when she
was thus warm and unguarded herself.

He had fancied before, sometimes, that she had seen his difficulties,
and sympathized with him, but he had never hope'd that she would be thus
unreserved. His thanks came from the depths of his heart; he felt that
she had lightened his burden.

After this, Miss Barholm was rarely absent from her place at the school.
The two evenings always found her at work among her young women, and she
made very steady progress among them.

By degrees the enterprise was patronized more freely. New pupils dropped
in, and were usually so well satisfied that they did not drop out again.
Grace gave all the credit to Anice, but Anice knew better than to accept
it. She had been his "novelty" she said; time only would prove whether
her usefulness was equal to her power of attraction.

She had been teaching in the school about three weeks, when a servant
came to her one night as she sat reading, with the information that a
young woman wished to see her.

"A fine-looking young woman, Miss," added the girl. "I put her into your
own room, as you give orders."

The room was a quiet place, away from the sounds of the house, which had
gradually come to be regarded as Miss Barholm's. It was not a large room
but it was a pretty one, with wide windows and a good view, and as Anice
liked it, her possessions drifted into it until they filled it,--her
books, her pictures,--and as she spent a good deal of her time there,
it was invariably spoken of as her room, and she had given orders to the
servants that her village visitors should be taken to it when they came.

Carrying her book in her hand, she went upstairs. She had been very much
interested in what she was reading, and had hardly time to change the
channel of her thought. But when she opened the door, she was brou