el. Thinking over the scene in the study,
she remembered the look on his face as she said these words. "It was as
if I had struck him," she thought; and then came more tears and sobs.

Mrs. Forester's motherly heart yearned over the girl as she made her
confession. Brokenly and with many tears the story was told, and relief
came to Marjory in the telling of it. Blanche, with instinctive tact,
had walked away a little distance with Silky, so that Marjory should
feel free to talk to her mother. When the recital was over, Mrs.
Forester said cheerfully, "I told you I thought I should be able to help
you. First of all, I have got some delightful news for you. Only to-day
your uncle and I have been making plans for you to share in Blanche's
lessons. You are to learn everything that she does, _including_ French
and music," with a smile at the recollection of her battle against the
doctor's prejudices.

A breathless "oh" was all that Marjory could say.

Mrs. Forester continued,--

"Blanche has a very good, kind governess. Unfortunately, she has rather
an ugly name, and it may make you smile. It is Waspe--W, a, s, p,
e--not pretty, is it? But she is as sweet as she can be, and very
accomplished, and Blanche gets on nicely with her. It will be much more
interesting for Blanche to have some one to share her lessons with, and
good for you too, won't it?"

"Oh, indeed it will!" replied Marjory, bewildered by this wonderful
piece of news.

"And in return for this I want you to teach Blanche all you can."

"I?" asked Marjory in surprise.

"Yes, you," with a smile at the girl's puzzled expression. "Blanche is a
little too much like her name at present; she isn't very strong. Living
in London didn't suit her, and it is for her sake that we have come to
live here. I want you to show her all your favourite nooks and corners,
to teach her all you know about the birds and flowers, and to let her
help you in your garden. Will you do this, and keep her out of doors as
much as you can?"

"I shall love it!" cried Marjory emphatically. "It's like a dream, and
seems too good to be true."

"Now, my child," continued Mrs. Forester seriously, "listen to me. I
think you have been doing your uncle a great injustice. You say you
called him unkind and cruel; he is neither the one nor the other."

"I know," replied Marjory in a low voice.

"He is very fond of you," said Mrs. Forester.

Marjory looked up quickly.

"He never says so," she