nurse directed the letter for her, and it was dropped into
the pillar-box that same night.

The letter was not read by the one it was intended for until--but that
refers to another part of the story.

CHAPTER XII.

The next day was a glorious one, and Lady Helen, Mr. Rochester, Mrs.
Ogilvie, and Sibyl all met at Victoria Station in time to catch the
11.20 train to Richmond, the nearest station to Silverbel. There a
carriage was to meet them, to take them to the house. They were to
lunch at a small inn close by, and afterwards have a row on the river;
altogether a very delightful day was planned.

It was now the heart of a glorious summer--such a summer as does not
often visit England. The sky was cloudless; the sun shone, but the
great heat was tempered by a soft, delicious breeze.

Sibyl, all in white, with a white shady hat making her little face
even more lovely than usual, stood by her mother's side, close to a
first-class carriage, to await the arrival of the other two.

Lady Helen and Rochester were seen walking slowly down the platform.
Sibyl gave one of her gleeful shouts, and ran to meet them.

"Here you both is!" she said, and she looked full up at Lady Helen,
with such a charming glance of mingled affection and understanding,
that Lady Helen blushed, in spite of herself.

Lady Helen Douglas was a very nice-looking girl, not exactly pretty,
but her gray eyes were capable of many shades of emotion. They were
large, and full of intelligence. Her complexion was almost colorless.
She had a slim, graceful figure. Her jet-black hair, which she wore
softly coiled round her head, was also thick and beautiful. Sibyl used
to like to touch that hair, and loved very much to nestle up close to
the graceful figure, and take shy peeps into the depths of the eyes
which seemed to hold secrets.

"You do look nice," said Sibyl, speaking in a semi-whisper, but in a
tone of great ecstasy, "and so does Mr. Rochester. Do you know, I
always call him nice Mr. Rochester. Watson is so interested in him."

"Who is Watson?" asked Lady Helen.

"Don't you know, he is our footman. He is very nice, too; he is full
of impulses, and they are all good. I expect the reason he is so
awfully interested in _dear_ Mr. Rochester is because they are both
having love affairs. You know, Watson has a girl, too, he is awfully
fond of; I 'spect they'll marry when father comes back with all the
gold. You don't know how fond I am of Watso