ve the best right--' and she
began to sob again.

'Come,' said Miss Lang, as if talking to a naughty girl, 'if you are
overcome like that, you had better come away.'

Wherewith authoritative habits made it possible to her to get Mrs. Morton
out of the room; while Mary, well used to self-restraint, was struggling
with choking tears, but when warm-hearted Lady Kenton drew her close and
kissed her, they began to flow uncontrollably, so that she could only
gasp, 'Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady!'

'Never mind,' was the answer; 'I don't wonder! There's no word for that
language but brutal.'

'Oh, don't,' was Mary's cry. 'She is _his_, Lord Northmoor's
sister-in-law, and he has done everything for her ever since his
brother's death.'

'That is no reason she should speak to you in that way. I must ask you
to excuse me, but we could not help hearing, she was so loud, and then I
felt impelled to break in.'

'It was very very kind! But oh, I wish I knew whether she is not in the
right after all!'

'I am sure Lord Northmoor is deeply attached--quite in earnest,' said
Lady Kenton, feeling rather as if she was taking a liberty.

'Yes, I know it would grieve him most dreadfully, if it came to an end
now, dear fellow. I know it would break my heart, too, but never mind
that, I would go away, out of his reach, and he might get over it. Would
it not be better than his being always ashamed of an inferior,
incompetent creature, always dragging after him?'

'I do not think you can be either, after what my daughter and Miss Lang
have told me.'

'You see, it is not even as if I had been a governess in a private
family, I have always been here. I know nothing about servants, or great
houses, or society, not so much as our least little girl, who has a
home.'

'May I tell you what I think, my dear,' said Lady Kenton, greatly
touched. 'You have nothing to unlearn, and there is nothing needful to
the position but what any person of moderate ability and good sense can
acquire, and I am quite sure that Lord Northmoor would be far less happy
without you, even in the long-run, besides the distress you would cause
him now. It is not a brilliant, showy person that he needs, but one to
understand and make him a real home.'

'That is what he is always telling me,' said Mary, somewhat cheered.

'Yes, and he could not help showing where his heart is,' said the lady.
'Now the holidays are near, are they not?'

'The 11th of July.'