send him daily notes by Chatty, who was always delighted
to do an errand in the village.

'I can't think what makes Miss Darrell so curious, ma'am,' the girl once
said to me. 'She asks me every day if I have been down to the vicarage.
She did it while master was by the other afternoon, and he told her quite
sharply that it was no affair of hers.'

'Never mind that, Chatty.'

'Oh, but I am afraid she means mischief, ma'am,' persisted Chatty, who
had a great dislike to Miss Darrell, which she showed by being somewhat
pert to her, 'for she said in such a queer tone to master, "There, I told
you so: now you will believe me," and master looked as though he were not
pleased.'

As I strolled round the garden in Nap's company I often saw Leah
sitting sewing at her mistress's window: she would put down her work and
watch me until I was out of sight. I felt the woman hated me, and this
surveillance was very unpleasant to me. I never felt quite free until
I reached the kitchen-garden.

Mr. Hamilton visited his sister's room regularly three times a day. He
never stayed long: he would satisfy himself about her condition, say a
few cheerful words to her, and that was all.

His manner to me was grave and professional. Now and then, when he had
given his directions, he would ask me if there were anything he could do
for me, and if I were comfortable: and yet, in spite of his reserve and
guarded looks and words, I felt an atmosphere of protection and comfort
surrounding me that I had not known since Charlie's death.

Every day I had proofs of his thought for me. The flowers and fruits that
were sent into the sick-room were for me as well as Gladys. I was often
touched to see how some taste of mine had been remembered and gratified:
sometimes Chatty would tell me that master had given orders that such a
thing should be provided for Miss Garston; and in many other ways he made
me feel that I was not forgotten.

For some days Gladys continued very ill; she slept fitfully and uneasily,
waking in terror from some dream that escaped her memory. I used to hear
her moaning, and be beside her before she opened her eyes. 'It is only a
nightmare,' I would say to her as she clung to me like a frightened
child; but it was not always easy to banish the grisly phantoms of a
diseased and overwrought imagination. The morbid condition of her mind
was aggravated and increased by physical weakness; at the least exertion
she had fainting-fits that