new--but she was very unwell for
weeks afterwards. And she said to me that she didn't care what became of
her, and she wished she could die. When she was better, I said she would
live to be married yet, and she said then, "Yes; I'll do anything
for the benefit of my family, so as to turn my useless life to some
practical account." Well, it began like this about Lord Luxellian
courting her. The first Lady Luxellian had died, and he was in great
trouble because the little girls were left motherless. After a while
they used to come and see her in their little black frocks, for they
liked her as well or better than their own mother---that's true.
They used to call her "little mamma." These children made her a shade
livelier, but she was not the girl she had been--I could see that--and
she grew thinner a good deal. Well, my lord got to ask the Swancourts
oftener and oftener to dinner--nobody else of his acquaintance--and at
last the vicar's family were backwards and forwards at all hours of the
day. Well, people say that the little girls asked their father to let
Miss Elfride come and live with them, and that he said perhaps he would
if they were good children. However, the time went on, and one day I
said, "Miss Elfride, you don't look so well as you used to; and though
nobody else seems to notice it I do." She laughed a little, and said, "I
shall live to be married yet, as you told me."

'"Shall you, miss? I am glad to hear that," I said.

'"Whom do you think I am going to be married to?" she said again.

'"Mr. Knight, I suppose," said I.

'"Oh!" she cried, and turned off so white, and afore I could get to her
she had sunk down like a heap of clothes, and fainted away. Well, then,
she came to herself after a time, and said, "Unity, now we'll go on with
our conversation."

'"Better not to-day, miss," I said.

'"Yes, we will," she said. "Whom do you think I am going to be married
to?"

'"I don't know," I said this time.

'"Guess," she said.

'"'Tisn't my lord, is it?" says I.

'"Yes, 'tis," says she, in a sick wild way.

'"But he don't come courting much," I said.

"'Ah! you don't know," she said, and told me 'twas going to be in
October. After that she freshened up a bit--whether 'twas with the
thought of getting away from home or not, I don't know. For, perhaps, I
may as well speak plainly, and tell you that her home was no home to her
now. Her father was bitter to her and harsh upon her; and though Mrs.
Sw