--in the
far distance, something else would come, something of which in her
castle-building she had not yet developed the form, of which she did
not yet know the bearing, or the manner of its beauty, or the music
of its voice; but as to which she was very sure that its form would
be beautiful and its voice full of music. It can hardly be said that
this something was the centre of her dreams, or the foundation of
her castles. It was the extreme point of perfection at which she
would arrive at last, when her thoughts had become sublimated by the
intensity of her thinking. It was the tower of the castle from which
she could look down upon the inferior world below,--the last point
of the dream in arranging which she would all but escape from earth
to heaven,--when in the moment of her escape the cruel waking back
into the world would come upon her. But this she knew,--that this
something, whatever might be its form or whatever its voice, would be
exactly the opposite of Tom Tringle.

She had fallen away from her resolution to her dreams for a time,
when suddenly she jumped up and began her work with immense energy.
Open went one box after another, and in five minutes the room was
strewed with her possessions. The modest set of drawers which was to
supply all her wants was filled with immediate haste. Things were
deposited in whatever nooks might be found, and every corner was
utilized. Her character for tidiness had never stood high. At the
bijou Lucy, or her mother, or the favourite maid, had always been at
hand to make good her deficiencies with a reproach which had never
gone beyond a smile or a kiss. At Glenbogie and even on the journey
there had been attendant lady's maids. But here she was all alone.

Everything was still in confusion when she was called to dinner. As
she went down she recalled to herself her second resolution. She
would be good;--whereby she intimated to herself that she would
endeavour to do what might be pleasing to her Aunt Dosett. She had
little doubt as to her uncle. But she was aware that there had been
differences between her aunt and Lucy. If Lucy had found it difficult
to be good how great would be the struggle required from her!

She sat herself down at table a little nearer to her aunt than her
uncle, because it was specially her aunt whom she wished to win, and
after a few minutes she put out her little soft hand and touched
that of Mrs. Dosett. "My dear," said that lady. "I hope you w