to herself what others have
no right to ask her to disclose. She has greatly helped our Marjorie,
and the child loves her dearly."

"Yes, that is easily seen. As to her reserve, there are some troubles
that can be best borne in silence," said Mrs Esselmont. "And she has
grown more cheerful of late."

"Much more cheerful. She is always quiet, and sometimes troubled with
anxious thoughts, as one can see, but there is a great change for the
better since the spring. It is, of late, as though some heavy weight
had been taken from her heart."

In her lonely life, with little to interest her, either in her own home
or in the neighbourhood, it was natural enough that the lady should give
some thought to the strong, gentle, reticent, young woman, who seemed to
her to be quite out of place as a servant in the manse. She would have
greatly liked to win the girl's confidence, so that she might be the
better able to give her help and counsel if the time should come when
she should acknowledge her need of them. Until that time came, she told
herself, she could offer neither help nor counsel. It was not for her
to seek to enter into the secret of another woman's sorrow, since she
knew from her own experience how vain are words, or even kindest deeds,
to soothe the hurt of a sore and angry spirit.

"I might only fret the wound I fain would heal. And she is young and
will forget in time whatever her trouble may be. And, when all is said,
how can I think she is not in her right place, since she fills that
place so well? God seems to be giving her the opportunity and the power
to do for the child what has long seemed beyond hope, even to the
mother, who is not one inclined to despond. I will not meddle in her
concerns hastily, but oh! I would like if this Allison were ever in
sore need of a friend, that she would come to me."

It was astonishing to herself when she considered the matter, how many
of the lady's thoughts were given to this stranger.

"We are curious creatures," she mused. "It is little to my own credit
to say it, but I doubt if this Allison had been just a decent, plain
lass like Kirstin, I might have been left to overlook her and her
sorrows, though I might have helped her when I knew her need. I will
bide my time, and when it comes I will do what I can for Allison Bain,
whatever her need may be."

Almost every week Marjorie spent a day at Firhill, and she was usually
carried there, or home again, in