was devoted to her master, and
capable of consideration for Leslie on his account--though jealous of
her entrance upon the stage of Otter; but she evinced this reflected
interest by encroachments and tyranny, a general determination to adhere
doggedly to her own ways, and to impose them upon her mistress.

Leslie began by admiring Bridget, as she did everything else at Otter.
Leslie would have propitiated the mayor of the palace with kind words
and attentions, but when she was snapped up in her efforts, she drew
back with a girl's aptness to be affronted and repelled. Next Leslie
began to angrily resist Bridget's unbecoming interference with her
movements, and design of exercising authority and control over the child
whom the master had chosen to set over his house; but her fitful
impulses were met and overruled by stubborn and slenderly veiled
fierceness. Leslie was not weak, but she was undisciplined; and she who
had been the young Hotspur of the most orderly and pacific of families,
learnt to tremble at the sound of Bridget's crutch in the lobbies, and
her shrill voice rating the servants who flew to do her bidding.

In proportion as Leslie cowered at her subordinate, the subordinate was
tempted to despise her and lord it over her.

Hector Garret was blind to this contention. For his own part, he
humoured Bridget or smiled at her asperities, as suited him; and it is
probable that if he had been appealed to, he would have adopted his old
favourite's side, and censured Leslie as touchy, inconsiderate, perhaps
a little spiteful. But he never was made umpire, for Leslie had all the
disadvantage of a noble temper in an unseemly struggle. Bridget plagued
Leslie, but Leslie would not injure Bridget,--no, not for the world. The
imperious old woman was Hector Garret's friend; he had said that he had
known no firmer friend than Bridget Kennedy. She had closed his father's
eyes, she had stood by himself in sickness and sorrow (for all his
strength and self-command, Hector had known sickness and sorrow--that
was a marvel to Leslie)--Bridget might clutch her rights to the end,
what did it signify? only a little pique and bitterness to an
interloper.

Leslie had ceased to credit that she would ever become the wise, helpful
woman that she had once warmly desired to see herself. Her own defects
were now familiar and sorely disheartening to her, and she had grown
aware that she could not by inspiration set and preserve in smooth,