e are enough of us
already, I should think."

"Too many," said Mrs. Sam Hurst with a sigh. It gave her the greatest
secret delight to play upon the girl's fears.

Besides this, however, Ursula had another pre-occupation. In that
cordial meeting with the young lady who had turned out to be a person in
such an embarrassing position, there had been a great deal said about
future meetings, walks, and expeditions together, and Ursula had been
very desirous that Phoebe should fix some time for their first encounter.
She thought of this now with blushes that seemed to burn her cheeks. She
was afraid to go out, lest she should meet the girl she had been so
anxious to make a friend of. Not that, on her own account, after the
first shock, Ursula would have been hard-hearted enough to deny her
acquaintance to Tozer's granddaughter. In the seclusion of her chamber,
she had cried over the downfall of her ideal friend very bitterly, and
felt the humiliation for Phoebe more cruelly than that young lady felt it
for herself; but Ursula, however much it might have cost her, would have
stood fast to her friendship had she been free to do as she pleased.

"I did not like her for her grandfather," she said to Janey, of whom, in
this case, she was less unwilling to make a confidant. "I never thought
of the grandfather. What does it matter to me if he were a sweep instead
of old Tozer?"

"Old Tozer is just as bad as if he were a sweep," said Janey; "if you
had ever thought of her grandfather, and known he was old Tozer, you
would have felt it would not do."

"What is there about a grandfather? I don't know if we ever had any,"
said Ursula. "Mamma had, for the Dorsets are her relations--but papa.
Mr. Griffiths's grandfather was a candle-maker; I have heard papa say
so--and they go everywhere."

"But he is dead," said Janey, with great shrewdness, "and he was rich."

"You little nasty calculating thing! Oh, how I hate rich people; how I
hate this horrid world, that loves money and loves fine names, and does
not care for people's selves whether they are bad or good! I shall never
dare to walk up Grange Lane again," said Ursula, with tears. "Fancy
changing to her, after being so glad to see her! fancy never saying
another word about the skating, or the walk to the old mill! How she
will despise me for being such a miserable creature! and she will think
it is all my own fault."

At this moment Mr. May, from the door of his study, called "