y, she was
embittered against Janetta, and this new charm of hers only added to her
dislike. But, outwardly, Lady Caroline was sweetness and sympathy
personified.

"You poor darling," said Margaret, when she stood with Janetta in Miss
Adair's own little sitting-room, awaiting the sound of the luncheon
bell; "what you must have suffered! I have felt for you, Janetta--oh,
more than I can tell! You are quite pale, dear; I do hope you are better
and stronger than you were?"

"I am quite well, thank you," said Janetta.

"But you must have had so much to bear! If I lost my friends--my dear
father or mother--I know I should be broken-hearted. You are so brave
and good, Janetta, dear."

"I don't feel so," said Janetta, sorrowfully. "I wish I did. It would be
rather a comfort sometimes."

"You have a great deal of trouble and care, I am afraid," said Margaret,
softly. She was resolved to be staunch to her friend, although Sir
Philip had been so disagreeable about Janetta. She was going to show him
that she could take her own way of showing friendship.

"There have been a good many changes in the family, and changes always
bring anxieties with them," said Janetta, firmly. She had particularly
resolved that she would not complain of her troubles to the Adairs; it
would seem like asking them to help her--"sponging upon them," as she
disdainfully thought. Janetta had a very fair share of sturdy pride and
independence with which to make her way through the world.

Margaret would have continued the subject, but at that moment the bell
rang, and Janetta was glad to go downstairs.

It was curious, as she remembered afterwards, to find that the splendors
of the house, the elaboration of service, now produced not the slightest
impression upon her. She had grown out of her former girlish feeling of
insignificance in the presence of powdered footmen and fashionable
ladies' maids. The choice flowers, the silver plate, the dainty
furniture and hangings, which had once excited and almost awed her
imagination, were perceived by her with comparative indifference. She
was a woman, not a child, and these things were but as toys to one who
had stood so lately face to face with the larger issues of life and
death. Mr. Adair and Lady Caroline talked pleasantly to her, utterly
ignoring, of course, any change in her circumstances or recent source of
trouble, and Janetta did her best to respond. It was by way of trying to
introduce a pleasant