harming, and Margaret seemed quite revived by seeing her father so
happy with his friend. Ethel knew she ought to be happy also, and if
attention could make her so, she had it, for kind and courteous as Dr.
Spencer was to all, she seemed to have a double charm for him. It was
as if he found united in her the quaint brusquerie, that he had loved
in her father, with somewhat of her mother; for though Ethel had less
personal resemblance to Mrs. May than any other of the family, Dr.
Spencer transferred to her much of the chivalrous distant devotion, with
which he had regarded her mother. Ethel was very little conscious of it,
but he was certainly her sworn knight, and there was an eagerness in his
manner of performing every little service for her, a deference in his
way of listening to her, over and above his ordinary polish of manner.

Ethel lighted up, and enjoyed herself when talking was going
on--her periods of ennui were when she had to set about any home
employment--when Aubrey's lessons did not go well--when she wanted to
speak to her father, and could not catch him; and even when she had to
go to Cocksmoor.

She did not seem to make any progress there--the room was very full,
and very close, the children were dull, and she began to believe she was
doing no good--it was all a weariness. But she was so heartily ashamed
of her feelings, that she worked the more vehemently for them, and the
utmost show that they outwardly made was, that Margaret thought her less
vivacious than her wont, and she was a little too peremptory at times
with Mary and Blanche. She had so much disliked the display that Flora
had made about Cocksmoor, that she had imposed total silence on it
upon her younger sisters, and Dr. Spencer had spent a fortnight at
Stoneborough without being aware of their occupation; when there
occurred such an extremely sultry day, that Margaret remonstrated
with Ethel on her intention of broiling herself and Mary by walking to
Cocksmoor, when the quicksilver stood at 80 deg. in the shade.

Ethel was much inclined to stay at home, but she did not know whether
this was from heat or from idleness, and her fretted spirits took the
turn of determination--so she posted off at a galloping pace, that her
brothers called her "Cocksmoor speed," and Mary panted by her side,
humbly petitioning for the plantation path, when she answered "that it
was as well to be hot in the sun as in the shade."

The school-room was unusually