ally, had not been going away from home in a
few weeks, it could not be expected that he could often ride with
her.

It was plain that every one of the whole family was giving continual
shocks to Mr. Pilgrim's disciple, even when they felt most innocent;
and though the mother was sometimes disposed to be angry, sometimes
to laugh at the little shudder and compression of the lips she began
to know, she perceived what an addition this must be to the
unhappiness of the poor lonely stranger.

"She must be set to some good work," thought Mrs. Poynsett; "Julius
might let her go to his old women. She might get on with them
better than with the old women here. And there's Cecil's working
affair, it would be just the thing to give her an object. I think I
can get through this evening. I've made Susan bring my desk, with
all Miles's letters from his first voyage. Shall I suppress the
ball?"

Therewith Cecil made her entrance, in glossy white satin and deep
lace, beautiful to behold, set off with rainbow glistening opals.
She made a quiet complacent show of herself, as one not vain of fine
clothes, but used to an affectionate family appreciation of her best
attire; and it was the most friendly childlike bit of intimacy that
had yet been attained between her and Mrs. Poynsett.

And when she sat down to wait for the others, Mrs. Poynsett ventured
on telling her the prescription and her own perplexity, hoping for a
voluntary offer to employ Anne at Willansborough; but Cecil only
pitied her for having 'no resources'; and when Mrs. Poynsett
ventured to suggest finding a niche for her in the work-room, the
answer was--"Our days are all disposed of."

"You have two, I think?"

"True; but it would never do for me to give up one of my times. If
I seemed to slacken, every one else would."

"What will you do when the Session begins?"

"I shall make some arrangement. I do not think Anne could ever take
my place; she would have no authority."

Anne herself here entered, took her knitting, and sat down,
apparently unaware of the little pluming gesture by which Cecil
unconsciously demanded attention to her bridal satin. One white-
gloved gentleman after another dropped in, but none presumed on a
remark; Jenkins announced the carriages; but Rosamond had not
appeared, and after an excursion up-stairs, Julius returned,
declaring that the first carriage must not wait for her, they would
come afterwards in the van, for there was