ast request of his dying
friend Lord Chetwynde proved faithful. He addressed Hilda with
kindness and affection, expressed sympathy with her in the loss of
her benefactor, and promised to do all in his power to make good the
loss which she had suffered in his death. She and Zillah, he told
her, might live as sisters in Chetwynde Castle. Perhaps the time
might come when their grief would be alleviated, and then they would
both learn to look upon him with something of that affection which
they had felt for General Pomeroy.

When Hilda and Zillah went with the Earl to Chetwynde Castle there
was one other who was invited there, and who afterward followed. This
was Gualtier. Hilda had recommended him; and as the Earl was very
anxious that Zillah should not grow up to womanhood without further
education, he caught at the idea which Hilda had thrown out. So
before leaving he sought out Gualtier, and proposed that he should
continue his instructions at Chetwynde.

"You can live very well in the village," said the Earl. "There are
families there with whom you can lodge comfortably. Mrs. Molyneux is
acquainted with you and your style of teaching, and therefore I would
prefer you to any other."

Gualtier bowed so low that the flush of pleasure which came over his
sallow face, and his smile of ill-concealed triumph, could not be
seen.

"You are too kind, my lord," he said, obsequiously. "I have always
done my best in my instructions, and will humbly endeavor to do so in
the future."

So Gualtier followed them, and arrived at Chetwynde a short time
after them, bearing with him his power, or perhaps his fate, to
influence Zillah's fortunes and future.

Chetwynde Castle had experienced some changes during these years. The
old butler had been gathered to his fathers, but Mrs. Hart still
remained. The Castle itself and the grounds had changed wonderfully
for the better. It had lost that air of neglect, decay, and ruin
which had formerly been its chief characteristic. It was no longer
poverty-stricken. It arose, with its antique towers and venerable
ivy-grown walls, exhibiting in its outline all that age possesses of
dignity, without any of the meanness of neglect. It seemed like one
of the noblest remains which England possessed of the monuments of
feudal times. The first sight of it elicited a cry of admiration from
Zillah; and she found not the least of its attractions in the figure
of the old Earl--himself a monument of the p