this question she sighed.

A sudden instinct made her move away. She wanted to escape from Lady
Hurdly. She had a chance to be herself to-day, and she felt a strong
desire to make the most of it.

Hearing a sound at her side, she turned and found the serious,
pleasant face of the housekeeper near her.

"Good-morning, my lady," she said, gently, in answer to Bettina's
friendly salutation. "Will your ladyship not have a shawl? This room
is always cool, no matter what the weather is."

Bettina declined the wrap, but passed on to the next picture,
requesting the woman to come with her and act as cicerone.

"What is your name? I ought to know it," she said.

"Parlett, your ladyship."

"And how long have you lived here, Parlett?"

"Over forty years, my lady. I was here in the old lord's time. That
is his picture, with his lady next to him."

Bettina looked with interest at the two pictures designated.

"He is thought to be very much like his present lordship," said the
housekeeper.

"Yes, I see it," said Bettina, feeling an instinct to guard her
countenance. Here were the same keen eyes, the same resolute jaw, the
same thin lips and hard lines about the mouth. Only in the older face
they were yet more accentuated, and instead of the not unbecoming
thinness of hair which showed in the son, there was a frank expanse
of bald head which made his features all the harder.

Hurrying away from the contemplation of this portrait, Bettina turned
to its companion. Here she encountered a face and form which were
truly all womanly, if by womanliness is meant abject submission and
self-effacement. The poor little lady looked patiently hopeless, and
her deprecating air seemed the last in the world calculated to hold
its own against such a lord. That she had not done so--of her own
full surrender of herself, in mind and soul and body--the picture
seemed a plain representation.

"Poor woman! She looks as if she had suffered," said Bettina.

"Oh yes, my lady," Parlett answered, as if divided between the
inclination to talk and the duty to be silent.

"She was unhappy, then?" said Bettina. "You need not hesitate to
answer. His lordship has told me what a trusted servant of the family
you are, and I shall treat you as such. You need not fear to speak to
me quite freely."

"Yes, my lady, she had a great deal of sadness in her life," went on
the housekeeper, thus encouraged. "She had six daughters before she
had a son, and th