d an uneasy feeling
that there were possibly rocks ahead.

At this moment, however, the prospect of seeing her dear Margaret again
completely obliterated any thought of her stepmother from Janetta's
mind; and when she was snugly ensconced in her own little, white bed,
she could not help shedding a few tears of relief and joy. For
Margaret's apparent fickleness had weighed heavily on Janetta's mind;
and she now felt proud of the friend in whom she had believed in spite
of appearances, and of whose faithfulness she had steadily refused to
hear a doubt. These feelings enabled her to bear with cheerfulness some
small unpleasantnesses next morning from her stepmother on the subject
of her visit. "Of course you'll be too grand to do a hand's turn about
the house when you come back again from Helmsley Court!" said Mrs.
Colwyn, snappishly.

"Dear mamma, when I am only going for half a day!"

"Oh, I know the ways of girls. Because Miss Adair, your fine friend,
does nothing but sit in a drawing-room all day, you'll be sure to think
that you must needs follow her example!"

"I hope Margaret will do something beside sit in a drawing-room," said
Janetta, with her cheery laugh; "because I am afraid that she might find
that a little dull."

But in spite of her cheeriness her spirits were perceptibly lowered when
she set foot in the victoria that was sent for her at noon. Her
stepmother's way of begrudging her the friendship which school-life had
bestowed upon Janetta was as distasteful to her as Miss Polehampton's
conviction of its unsuitability had been. And for one moment the tears
of vexation gathered in her brown eyes as she was driving away from the
shabby little house in Gwynne Street; and she had resolutely to drive
away unwelcome thoughts before she could resign herself to enjoyment of
her visit.

The day was hot and close, and the narrow streets of old Beaminster were
peculiarly oppressive. It was delightful to bowl swiftly along the
smooth high road, and to enter the cool green shades of the park round
Helmsley Court. "How pleasant for Margaret to live here always!" Janetta
said to herself with generous satisfaction in her friend's good fortune.
"I wonder what she would do in Gwynne Street!" And then Janetta laughed,
and felt that what suited _her_ would be very inappropriate to Margaret
Adair.

Janetta's unselfish admiration for her friend was as simple as it was
true, and it was never alloyed by envy or toadyism.