ger that she is quite indifferent, whereas a
plain woman will try to make herself a little agreeable. Now a poor lone
creature like myself likes to fancy that people are glad to see her, and
Miss White pretends as much. It is very kind. By and by she will get
spoiled like the rest, and then she will become honest. She will shake
hands with me, and then turn off, as much as to say, 'Go away, you ugly
old woman, for I can't be bothered with you, and I don't expect any
money from you, and why should I pretend to like you?'"

All this was said in a half-jesting way; and it certainly did not at all
represent--so far as Macleod had ever made out--the real opinions of her
neighbors in the world held by this really kind and gentle old lady. But
Macleod had noticed before that Miss Rawlinson never spoke with any
great warmth about Miss Gertrude White's beauty, or her acting, or
anything at all connected with her. At this very moment, when she was
apparently praising the young lady, there was a bitter flavor about what
she said. There may be jealousy between sixty-five and nineteen; and if
this reflection occurred to Macleod, he no doubt assumed that Miss
Rawlinson, if jealous at all, was jealous of Miss Gertrude White's
influence over--Mrs. Ross.

"As for Miss White's father," continued the old lady, with a little
laugh, "perhaps he believes in those sublime theories of art he is
always preaching about. Perhaps he does. They are very fine. One result
of them is that his daughter remains on the stage--and earns a handsome
income--and he enjoys himself in picking up bits of curiosities."

"Now that is really unfair," said Mrs. Ross, seriously. "Mr. White is
not a rich man, but he has some small means that render him quite
independent of any income of his daughter's. Why, how did they live
before they ever thought of letting her try her fortune on the stage?
And the money he spent, when it was at last decided she should be
carefully taught--"

"Oh, very well," said Miss Rawlinson, with a smile; but she nodded her
head ominously. If that old man was not actually living on his
daughter's earnings, he had at least strangled his mother, or robbed the
Bank of England, or done something or other. Miss Rawlinson was
obviously not well disposed either to Mr. White or to his daughter.

At this very moment both these persons made their appearance, and
certainly, as this slender and graceful figure, clad in a pale summer
costume, came ac