had better
remain strangers. Dear Magdalene certainly has a temper!" finished
Phillis, with a wicked little sneer.

Nan tried to combat this resolution, and used a great many arguments:
she was anxious that Phillis should avail herself of this sudden fancy
on the part of Mrs. Cheyne to lift herself and perhaps all of them
into society with their equals. Nan's good sense told her that though
at present the novelty and excitement of their position prevented them
from realizing the full extent of their isolation, in time it must
weigh on them very heavily, and especially on Phillis, who was bright
and clever and liked society; but all her words were powerless against
Phillis's stubbornness: to the White House she could not and would not
go.

But one evening she changed her mind very suddenly, when a note from
Miss Mewlstone reached her. A gardener's boy brought it: "it was very
particular, and was to be delivered immediate to the young lady," he
observed, holding the missive between a very grimy finger and thumb.

"MY DEAR YOUNG LADY,--

"Pride is all very well, but charity is often best in the long run,
and a little kindness to a suffering human being is never out of place
in a young creature like you.

"Poor Magdalene has been very sadly for days, and I have got it into
my stupid old head--that is always fancying things--that she has been
watching for folks who have been too proud to come, though she would
die sooner than tell me so; but that is her way, poor dear!

"It is ill to wake at nights with nothing but sad thoughts for
company, and it is ill wearing out the long days with only a silly old
body to cheer one up; and when there is nothing fresh to say, and
nothing to expect, and not a footstep or a voice to break the silence,
then it seems to me that a young voice--that is, a kind voice--would
be welcome. Take this hint, my dear, and keep my counsel, for I am
only a silly old woman, as she often says.

"Yours,
Bathsheba Mewlstone."

"Oh, I must go now!" observed Phillis, in an embarrassed voice, as she
laid this singular note before Nan.

"Yes, dear; and you had better put on your hat at once, and Dulce and
I will walk with you as far as the gate. It is sad for you to miss the
scramble on the shore; but, when other people really want us, I feel
as though it were a direct call," finished Nan, solemnly.