a treasure I had lost, and I lay back among my cushions, and
thought it would be well if I could die.

The next morning Rachel was restless and absent. Early in the day she
left me suddenly, and came back dressed in her riding-habit.

"I am going for a ride, dear," she said hurriedly. "I am not very well;
I need fresh air. You can do without me for a few hours, I daresay."

Something in her manner made me wonder. I heard the mustering of horses
on the gravel, and dragged myself to the window to see if John
Hollingford were of the party. But he was not there. Lying on my sofa
afterwards I remembered Mrs. Hollingford's expected visit, and felt sure
that Rachel had gone away to avoid her. I remembered that they had never
yet met, and I easily saw a reason for Rachel's fearing her eyes at
present. In the midst of these reflections came my dear second mother.

Mrs. Hill brought her to me. The contrast between the two was striking.
Mrs. Hill was short, fat, and plain, and had narrowly escaped from
nature's hands without the stamp of a vulgar little woman. Mrs.
Hollingford was tall and slender, with a worn noble face, and, in spite
of all circumstances, looked the ideal of an ancient "high-born ladye."

When I looked at her, I felt that it would be impossible for me to go
back to the farm. I thought that when we found ourselves alone I would
tell her what I had learned, and beg of her to permit me to go straight
from the Hall to London, whence I could write a letter of release to
John. But Mrs. Hill stayed with us some time, and in the meantime my
courage oozed away. When I found myself face to face with her, and no
one else there, I could not say a word of my confession. I realised what
would be her dismay, her indignation, and worst of all, I feared her
incredulity. She would assuredly speak to John when she went home, and
all my pride revolted at the thought. So I let the opportunity go by.

I told her of Miss Leonard's kindness. She had been a little hurt, I
think, at the young lady's absence, but she was never used to look for
slights, and my testimony cleared away all shadow of offence. Afterwards
I found that the girls at home were indignant at Miss Leonard's hauteur.
They had expected something different. She had disappointed them. Mrs.
Hill was courteous, Mr. Hill was kind, but Miss Leonard ignored the dear
old mother altogether.

"'Tis always the way with upstarts," said Jane; and the foolish little
hearts wer