elf, and hunted a good deal, and thought
nothing about taking care of himself. He was a nice kind man, and all
his people were very fond of him.

But she tried to cheer up the little girls and gave them their lesson as
usual. It was much better to do so than to let them feel too unhappy.
And I tried to be very kind and bright too--I saw that grandmamma wanted
me to be the same way to them that she was.

But after they were gone she spoke to me pretty openly about her fears
for Mr. Nestor.

'Dr. Cobbe would not have sent for a London doctor without good cause,'
she said. 'All will depend on his opinion. It is possible that I may
have to stay all night, Helena dear. You will not mind if I do?'

I _did_ mind, very much. But I tried to say I wouldn't. Still, I felt
pretty miserable when the Moor Court carriage came to fetch grandmamma,
and she drove away, leaving me for the first time in my life, or rather
the first time I could remember, alone with Kezia.

Kezia was very kind. She offered me to come into the kitchen and make
cakes. But I was past eleven now--that is very different from being only
eight. I did not care much for making cakes--I never have cared about
cooking as some girls do, though I know it is a very good thing to
understand about it, and grandmamma says I am to go through a regular
course of it when I get to be seventeen or eighteen. But I knew Kezia's
cakes were much better than any I could make, so I thanked her, but said
no--I would rather read or sew.

I had my tea all alone in the dining-room. Kezia was always so
respectful about that sort of thing. Though she had been a nurse when I
was only a tiny baby, she never forgot, as some old servants do, to
treat me quite like a young lady, now I was growing older. She brought
in my tea and set it all out just as carefully as when grandmamma was
there, even more carefully in some ways, for she had made some little
scones that I was very fond of, and she had got out some strawberry jam.

But I could not help feeling melancholy. I know it is wrong to believe
in presentiments, or at least to think much about them, though
_sometimes_ even very wise people like grandmamma cannot help believing
in them a little. But I really do think that there are times in one's
life when a sort of sadness about the future does seem _meant_.

And I had been so happy for so long. And troubles must come.

I said that over to myself as I sat alone after tea, and then all o