arm.

"A word of advice, ma'am," she said; "one word at parting. You are a
bold woman and a clever woman. Don't be too bold; don't be too clever.
You are risking more than you think for." She suddenly raised herself on
tiptoe and whispered the next words in Magdalen's ear. "_I hold you
in the hollow of my hand!_" said Mrs. Lecount, with a fierce hissing
emphasis on every syllable. Her left hand clinched itself stealthily as
she spoke. It was the hand in which she had concealed the fragment of
stuff from Magdalen's gown--the hand which held it fast at that moment.

"What do you mean?" asked Magdalen, pushing her back.

Mrs. Lecount glided away politely to open the house door.

"I mean nothing now," she said; "wait a little, and time may show. One
last question, ma'am, before I bid you good-by. When your pupil was a
little innocent child, did she ever amuse herself by building a house of
cards?"

Magdalen impatiently answered by a gesture in the affirmative.

"Did you ever see her build up the house higher and higher," proceeded
Mrs. Lecount, "till it was quite a pagoda of cards? Did you ever see her
open her little child's eyes wide and look at it, and feel so proud of
what she had done already that she wanted to do more? Did you ever see
her steady her pretty little hand, and hold her innocent breath, and
put one other card on the top, and lay the whole house, the instant
afterward, a heap of ruins on the table? Ah, you have seen that. Give
her, if you please, a friendly message from me. I venture to say she has
built the house high enough already; and I recommend her to be careful
before she puts on that other card."

"She shall have your message," said Magdalen, with Miss Garth's
bluntness, and Miss Garth's emphatic nod of the head. "But I doubt her
minding it. Her hand is rather steadier than you suppose, and I think
she will put on the other card."

"And bring the house down," said Mrs. Lecount.

"And build it up again," rejoined Magdalen. "I wish you good-morning."

"Good-morning," said Mrs. Lecount, opening the door. "One last word,
Miss Garth. Do think of what I said in the back room! Do try the Golden
Ointment for that sad affliction in your eyes!"

As Magdalen crossed the threshold of the door she was met by the postman
ascending the house steps with a letter picked out from the bundle
in his hand. "Noel Vanstone, Esquire?" she heard the man say,
interrogatively, as she made her way down the front