PPY HETTY.

About three weeks had passed away. Hetty had endured the worst throes of
her disappointment, and had almost succeeded in banishing Reine out of
her thoughts. She had steadily turned away her eyes from looking back at
that beautiful evening, when, as if by enchantment, a girl who looked
and spoke like a sister had held her in a loving embrace, lavishing
kisses and loving words upon her, Hetty, who was known to be nobody's
child. The quiet studious days went on as if no brilliant interruption
had ever flashed in upon them. Miss Davis, at Mrs. Enderby's desire,
kept Hetty more than ordinarily busy, and hindered her from paying her
customary visits to Mrs. Kane. Mrs. Enderby distrusted the good woman's
ability to keep a secret, and, with that prudence which had always
distinguished her in her dealings with Hetty, she was resolved that the
girl should hear no whisper to disturb her tranquillity till such time
as her identity should be considered satisfactorily proved.

At the end of three weeks' time, however, news came from London to Mr.
Enderby which placed it beyond a doubt that Hetty was Helen Gaythorne,
the baby who had been supposed to be drowned. Although Mrs. Enderby and
her daughters had been prepared for this result of the inquiries that
had been on foot, yet the established fact, with its tremendous
importance for Hetty, seemed to come on them with a shock. The child who
had been protected in their house, no longer needed their protection.
The girl who was to have been sent out soon as a governess to earn her
bread, would henceforth have pleasant bread to eat in a sister's
luxurious home. The dependant, whom it had been thought judicious to
snub, was now the equal of those who had so prudently dealt with her
according to their lights.

Mr. and Mrs. Enderby were extremely pleased at the child's good fortune,
and thankful that they had not been induced to send her to a charity
school.

"You are always right, dear," said Mrs. Enderby, looking at her husband
with pride. "When I was a coward in the matter you insisted on having
her here. And if she had gone elsewhere she would never have met Reine,
and her identity could hardly have been discovered."

"And her sister may thank you that she does not receive her a spoiled,
passionate, unmanageable monkey. Your prudent treatment of the girl has
had admirable results. Her demeanour has pleased me very much of late.
Meekness and obedience have taken the p