ree from all
danger; and Lady Delawarr thought there was no longer need for the girls
to remain away.

"I wonder what will become of me without you, Molly!" said Rhoda,
dolefully.

"Oh, you'll have plenty to do, old Gatepost," observed Molly, apparently
in allusion to Rhoda's uneventful life. "You've got to fall in love
with Marcus. I'll cut you into slices if you do, and make buttered
toast of you."

"Good-bye!" said Rhoda laughing.

"_Vale_!" responded Molly.

"Good-bye, dear little Phoebe!" was Gatty's farewell. "I wonder what
would have become of me if I had not met you and Mrs Dorothy. For I
have asked Him to be my Friend,--you know,--and I think, I _think_ He
will."

"I am sure of it. Good-bye."

And so Gatty and Molly passed out of the life at White-Ladies.

On returning to the old order of things, Phoebe found Rhoda, as she
expected, considerably changed for the worse. What had been a sort of
good-humoured condescension was altered into absolute snappishness, and
Phoebe was sorely tried. But the influence of Molly, bad as it had
been, proved temporary. Rhoda sank by degrees--or shall I say rose?--
into her old self, and Phoebe presently had no more to bear than before
the visit from Delawarr Court.

About a fortnight after the departure of Gatty and Molly, as Phoebe was
sitting at the parlour window with her work, she perceived Mrs Jane
Talbot, hooded, cloaked, and pattened,--for the afternoon was damp,--
marching up to the side door. The fact was communicated to Madam, who
rose and glanced at herself in the chimney-glass, and ringing her little
hand-bell, desired Baxter to show Mrs Jane into the parlour.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Jane; 'tis a pleasure I did not look for," said
Madam, as she rose.

"Your servant, Madam," returned Mrs Jane, who had divested herself of
cloak and pattens in the hall.

"Pray be seated, Mrs Jane. And what brings you hither?--for methinks
some matter of import will have called you out on so rainy a day as
this."

"Easy to guess," answered Mrs Jane, taking a seat as requested, and
delivering her communication in short, blunt sentences, like small shot.
"A whim of Marcella's. Got a fancy for Port O Port. Sent me to beg a
sup of you, Madam. Fancies it will cure her. Fiftieth time she has
thought so, of something. All nonsense. Can't help it."

"Indeed, my dear Mrs Jane, I am happy to be capable of helping Mrs
Marcella to her fancy, and trust it may be of t