u were very much improved."

"At all events, my red cheeks and my plough-boy appetite would scarcely
distress her now," returned Hatty, rather bitterly. "Mr Crossland is
coming for me--I must go." And while she held my hand, I was amazed to
hear a low whisper, in a voice of unutterable longing,--"Cary, pray for
me!"

That horrid Mr Crossland came up and carried her off. Poor dear Hatty!
I am sure something is wrong. And somehow, I think I love her better
since I began to pray for her, only that was not last night, as she
seemed to think.

This morning at breakfast, I asked Grandmamma if she would do me a
favour.

"Yes, child, if it be reasonable," said she. "What would you have?"

"Please, Grandmamma, will you ask Hatty to come for a little while? I
should so like to have her; and I cannot talk to her comfortably in a
room full of people."

Grandmamma took a pinch of snuff, as she generally does when she wants
to consider a minute.

"She is very much improved," said she. "She really is almost
presentable. I should not feel ashamed, I think, of introducing her as
my grand-daughter. Well, Cary, if you wish it, I do not mind. You are
a tolerably good girl, and I do not object to give you a pleasure. But
it must be after she has finished her visit to the Crosslands. I could
not entice her away."

"I asked her how long she was going to stay there, Grandmamma, and she
said she did not know."

"Then, my dear, you must wait till she do." [Note 1.]

But what may happen before then? I knew it would be of no use to say
any more to Grandmamma: she is a perfect Mede and Persian when she have
once declared her royal pleasure. And my Aunt Dorothea will never
interfere. My Uncle Charles is the only one who dare say another word,
and it was a question if he would. He is good-natured enough, but so
careless that I could not feel at all certain of enlisting him. Oh
dear! I do feel to be growing so old with all my cares! It seems as if
Hatty, and Annas, and Flora, and Angus, and Colonel Keith, and the
Prince,--I beg his pardon, he should have come first,--were all on my
shoulders at once. And I don't feel strong enough to carry such a lot
of people.

I wish my Aunt Kezia was here. I have wished it so many times lately.

When I had written so far, I turned back to look at my Aunt Kezia's
rules. And then I saw how foolish I am. Why, instead of putting the
Lord first, I had been leaving Him out of the w