chard did not explain that his errand was to sit with a crippled
lad, whose life of suffering debarred him from all pleasure. If there
were one person in the world whom Bob Rollton adored it was "the young
squire."

"He is a real gentleman, he is," Bob would say; "and not one of your
make-believe gentry. It is all along of him and Spot and the little 'un,
Tim, that I don't hate Sundays; but he comes reg'lar, does the squire;
and he brings some rare good books with him; and Tim curls himself up on
my blanket, and Spot sits on the window-sill, making believe to listen,
and we have a good old time."

Other people beside Bob could have cited instances of the young squire's
thoughtfulness and active benevolence; but Richard Sefton was one who
did good by stealth, and almost as though he were ashamed of it, and
neither his stepmother nor Edna guessed how much he was beloved in the
village.

Mrs. Sefton was one of those people who never believed in virtue, unless
it had the special hall-mark that conventionality stamps upon it, and
Richard's simple charities, his small self-denials, would have appeared
despicable in her eyes. She herself gave largely to the poor at
Christmas; blankets and clothing by the bale found their way to the East
End. The vicar of Melton called her "The benevolent Mrs. Sefton," but
she and Edna never entered a cottage, never sat beside a sick bed, nor
smoothed a dying pillow. Edna would have been horrified at such a
suggestion. What had her bright youth to do with disease, dirt and
misery? "Don't tell me about it," was her usual cry, when any one
volunteered to relate some piteous story. That such things should be
allowed in a world governed by a merciful Providence was incredible,
terrible, but that she should be brought into contact with it was an
offence to her ladylike judgment.

Many a girl has thought like Edna Sefton, and yet a royal princess could
enter a squalid cottage, and take the starving babe to her bosom; and
from that day to this Princess Alice has been a type of loving
womanhood.

Edna had not returned from the Athertons when Bessie entered the house,
so she went alone to the evening service. As the service was at
half-past six, an informal meal was served at a quarter past eight, to
allow the servants to attend church. Bessie was rather surprised at this
mark of thoughtfulness, but she found out afterward that Richard had
induced his stepmother, with some difficulty, to give up t