alized
clearly that the prospect which had given her her chief interest and
delight was destroyed for ever.

The trouble told on her, she caught a chill, which developed into
pneumonia. She was dangerously ill for some weeks, and when she was
better, she was long in getting up her strength, because she had no wish
to get well.

Minna and Louie thought it odd that Henrietta should "fret so much about
Evelyn's children whom she had never seen. She has always seemed to make
so much more fuss over them than over her own nephews and nieces in
England. Of course, it was natural that dear Evelyn herself should be
distracted, but for Henrietta it almost seemed a little exaggerated."

When she was well enough to travel, the doctor recommended the South of
France for the winter, and she went away with a married friend, the
Carrie Bostock of the Italian readings.

It was all very pleasant and entertaining to Henrietta, who had never
been abroad, never even away from her own family. In the Riviera she
could to a certain extent drown thought, but she counted the days with
consternation, as each one in its flight brought her nearer to taking up
life again at home.

One afternoon she received a letter from her father.

"MY DEAR HENRIETTA," it ran,

"I do not know if you will be surprised to hear that I am engaged to be
married to Mrs. Waters. We have not known one another very long, but I
must say I very soon felt that she would be one who could take your dear
mother's place. I think it is very possible that you may have observed
whither matters were tending. I feel certain that we shall all be very
happy together, and I hope you will write her a warm letter of welcome
to our family. She will, I am sure, be both mother and sister to you,
etc."

The news was staggering to Henrietta. She had been so engrossed in her
own trouble that she had observed nothing of what was going on around
her. Mrs. Waters, a widow, who had lately settled in the neighbourhood,
had been several times to their house and had entertained them at hers,
but that she should be anything more than a friendly acquaintance had
never entered Henrietta's head. She was to be ousted, her mother was to
be ousted, and she was to give a warm welcome to the interloper. Her
forgotten temper burst forth. She wrote a violent letter to her father,
hurling at him all the ridiculous exaggerated things that most people
feel at the beginning of a rage, but which few are so m