ve thrown herself into them again, but she became
conscious that there was a difference. She was still the object of her
father's intense tenderness and solicitude, indeed she could not be
otherwise, but it came over her sometimes that she was less necessary
to him than in the first year. He was not conscious of any change, and,
indeed, it hardly amounted to a change, and yet Margaret, lying inactive
and thoughtful, began to observe that the fullness of his confidence was
passing to Ethel. Now and then it would appear that he fancied he had
told Margaret little matters, when he had really told them to Ethel;
and it was Ethel who would linger with him in the drawing-room after
the others had gone up at night, or who would be late at the morning's
reading, and disarm Miss Winter, by pleading that papa had been talking
to her. The secret they shared together was, of course, the origin of
much of this; but also Ethel was now more entirely the doctor's own than
Margaret could be after her engagement; and there was a likeness of mind
between the father and daughter that could not but develop more in
this year, than in all Ethel's life, when she had made the most rapid
progress. Perhaps, too, the doctor looked on Margaret rather as
the authority and mistress of his house, while Ethel was more of a
playfellow; and thus, without either having the least suspicion that
the one sister was taking the place of the other, and without any actual
neglect of Margaret, Ethel was his chief companion.

"How excited and anxious Norman looks!" said Margaret, one day, when he
had rushed in at the dinner-hour, asking for his father, and, when he
could not find him, shouting out for Ethel. "I hope there is nothing
amiss. He has looked thin and worn for some time, and yet his work at
school is very easy to him."

"I wish there maybe nothing wrong there again," said Flora. "There!
there's the front door banging! He is off! Ethel!--" stepping to the
door, and calling in her sister, who came from the street door, her hair
blowing about with the wind. "What did Norman want?"

"Only to know whether papa had left a note for Dr. Hoxton," said Ethel,
looking very confused and very merry.

"That was not all," said Flora. "Now don't be absurd, Ethel--I hate
mysteries."

"Last time I had a secret you would not believe it," said Ethel,
laughing.

"Come!" exclaimed Flora, "why cannot you tell us at once what is going
on?"

"Because I was desired not,