,
indulgent father, have you not?"

"You have been very good to us," replied Hester.

"Oh, perhaps not so good as some fathers, but good according to my
lights, eh?"

"You have been very good to us," repeated Hester.

"And you are a good, dear daughter," replied Sir John, with almost
enthusiasm; "you never complain of the dull life I give you at the
Grange."

"The life is not dull, father."

"My dear, my dear," Sir John patted Hester's long slim fingers as they
rested on his arm, "I was young once myself and I know what youth wants,
and I have seen other girls, and I know what my girl requires. Hester, I
am not unmindful of you; and the step--the step I am about to take is
taken not wholly, but mainly, on your account and Nan's."

Hester suddenly withdrew her hand from Sir John's arm. A kind of
intuition told her what was coming. Like a flash a sword seemed to
pierce right through her heart. She had a memory of her mother, of the
loving eyes now closed--the voice so full of sympathy now silent. Was
her mother to be supplanted and because of her? For once passion got the
upper hand of prudence.

"Do it," she said, suddenly flashing round upon Sir John; "do it,
certainly, if you wish, but do not do it for Nan's sake and mine.
Nothing in all the wide world could pain us more."

Sir John looked as astonished as if Hester had suddenly slapped him in
the face.

"Your words are extremely vigorous, my dear," he said in a voice of ice;
"and I am not aware that I have yet told you what I mean to do."

"Oh, I know, I know," answered Hester; "you are going to marry again.
Oh, don't do it for our sakes; that is all I have to say."

Sir John was quite silent for nearly a minute. Then he said quietly: "As
you have been so clever as to guess my intention, you have of course
saved me the trouble of breaking my news to you. Young girls sometimes
resent the presence of a stepmother, but as a rule they appreciate the
advantage of one when once they have become accustomed to the change.
The lady who has honoured me by promising to accept my hand is Mrs.
Bernard Temple. She is about my own age and has one daughter of
seventeen--your age, Hester--whose name is Antonia. I have not yet seen
Antonia, but I am told that she is a most charming, ladylike girl. Mrs.
Bernard Temple has written to me to say she will come here on a visit on
Saturday with Antonia. This is Thursday, and I expect you, Hester, in
the meantime, to break the