family, and that he had said he would call
again. And surely enough he did call again;
and then it happened that the three Miss
Sweetmans were invited out to an evening
party—a great event for them. I thought there
was something very particular about it, and so
I took care to dress Miss Kitty with my own
hands. She had a plain white dress, and I
insisted on lending her my blue sash and coral
necklace; and when she was dressed she put her
finger in her mouth, and asked, between laughing
and crying, whether I could further
accommodate her with a coral and bells. She looked
as young as anybody, though she would make
fun of herself. And when she came in that
night, and saw my open eyes waiting for her,
she sat down on my bed and began to cry, and
told me that Major Guthrie had asked her to
marry him, and she was going to India as his
wife. Then I heard the whole story; how he
had loved her dearly long ago; how her friends
had refused him because he was too poor, and
she was too young; how after he had gone off
in a passion reverses had come upon them, and
she and her sisters had been obliged to open a
school. And so Miss Kitty went out to India,
and the only thing that comforted me for her
loss was the fact that she took with her the
embroidered handkerchief for my mother, and the
wrought cigar-case for my father, which it had
taken my idleness a whole year to produce.
Ah, me! and my eyes never beheld either of
these three again: friend, father, nor mother.

My first recollections of Mrs. Hollingford are
associated with plum-cake, birthdays, and
bonbons. I remember her—an erect, dignified-
looking lady in a long velvet cloak, and with a
peculiarly venerable face, half severe, half
benevolent. I used to feel a little nervous about
speaking to her, but I liked to sit at a distance
and look at her. I had a superstition that she
was the most powerful universal agent in
existence; that she had only to say "Let there be
plum-cake," and immediately it would appear
on the table; or, "This little girl requires a
new doll," and at once a waxen cherub would
repose in my arms. The Miss Sweetmans paid
her the greatest deference, and the girls used
to peep over the blinds in the schoolroom at
her handsome carriage and powdered servants.
I remember, when a very little girl, presenting
myself before Miss Sweetman one day, and
popping up my hand as a sign that I wanted to ask a
question. "What is the reason, Miss Sweetman,"
I asked, "that Mrs. Hollingford makes me think
of the valiant woman of whom we were reading
in the Bible yesterday?" But Miss Sweetman
was busy, and only puckered up her mouth
and ordered me back to my seat. Mrs.
Hollingford used to take me on her knee and tell
me of a little girl of hers who was at school in
France, and with whom I was one day to be
acquainted; and a tall lad, who was her son,
used to call sometimes with bouquets for Miss
Sweetman or sugar-plums for me; but I was
never in her house, which I believed to be a
palace, nor did I ever see Mr. Hollingford, who
was a banker in the City. After my twelfth
birthday I saw them no more. I missed the
periodical appearance of the noble face in the
parlour. Miss Sweetman, with a very long
face, told me something of the breaking of a
bank, ruin, and poverty. I was very sorry, but
I was too young to realise it much; and I went
on thinking of Mrs. Hollingford, in trouble, no
doubt, and unfortunately removed from me,
but still going about the world in her long
velvet cloak and with her hands full of plum-
cake.

So my youth went on till I was sixteen, pretty
well grown for my years, a little pert, a little
proud, a little fond of tinsels and butterflies, a
little too apt to make fun of my neighbours, and
to believe that the sun had got a special
commission to shine upon me, but withal
sympathetic and soft-hearted enough when in my right
senses, and, as I said before, not a bad sort of
girl when properly kept down by a judicious
system of snubbing. I had already begun to
count the months to the happy time, two years
hence, when, my education being finished, I
should at last rejoin my parents in India; and
I was fond of describing all the beautiful things
I would send as presents to the friends who had
been kind to me in England. And then one
fearful day came the black letter bearing the
terrible news which bowed my head in the dust,
scattered my girlish vanities, and altered all my
fate for life. Every one in the house learned
the news before me. I saw blank faces all
around, and could only guess the cause, so
careful were they to break it to me gradually.
For two dreadful days they kept me on the rack
of suspense, while I did not know whether it
was my father or mother who was dead, or
whether both were ill, or only one. But I
learned all soon enough. There had been a
fever, and both were dead. I was an orphan,
quite alone in the world.

For three years after this I remained with
the Miss Sweetmans, during which time I had
regained much of my old cheerfulness, and also
some degree of my natural pride and impertinence.
My father and mother had been to me
a memory and a hope; now they were a memory
only. After my first grief and sense of desolation
had passed, I went on with the routine of
my days much as before. I did not miss my
father and mother every hour as though I had
lived under their roof and been familiar with
their faces and caresses. But the bright
expectation of my youth was extinguished, and I
suffered secretly a great yearning for the love
which I had now no right to claim from any one.
The time was fast approaching when I must
take my school-books down from Miss Sweetmans'
shelves, pack up my trunks, and go forth
among strangers. I had some property, more
than enough for my needs, and I was to dwell
under the roof of my guardian, Mrs. Hollingford.
In the mean time, I paid several visits
to the home of a wealthy schoolfellow, who had
entered upon fashionable life, and who was
eager to give me a taste of its delights before I