"The Marquess tells me he saw you last night, my dear," she said. "I

hope you liked him."

"Yes," said Celia; "he was very kind."

"Oh, his lordship is kindness itself," said Mrs. Dexter; "and he seems

quite interested in you; he is anxious that you should not overwork

yourself, and he told me that I was to look after you and see that you

went out and took plenty of exercise every day. He's like that; no one

could be more kind and considerate to those in his service. And now, my

dear, it's a beautiful afternoon and you must go for a run, or I shall

get into trouble with his lordship."

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"Anything rather than that," said Celia, with a laugh. "Indeed, I'm just

going out. Won't you come, too, Mrs. Dexter?"

"Oh, my dear, it's quite impossible," said the housekeeper, "Lord and

Lady Heyton are coming this afternoon.... No, you can't help me, thank

you very much; everything is ready. I've given her ladyship the best

south room, and I hope she will be pleased. I hear that she is a very

beautiful young lady. She's a clergyman's daughter, and it was a

love-match. It is a good thing that Lord Heyton is married and settled;

a good thing for everybody," she added, with, perhaps, unintentional

significance.

Remembering her promise to Lady Gridborough, Celia decided to go to see

Susie; and, with Roddy scampering about her, she walked briskly in the

direction of the cottage. As Celia came up to it, Susie was at the gate

with the child in her arms, and the pale-faced girl-mother turned as if

to avoid her; but Celia, with shyness in her soft, clear voice, said: "Oh, mayn't I see the baby? Mayn't I come in?"

"Yes; you may come in, if you wish, if you want to, miss," said Susie,

in her low voice, and after a moment's hesitation.

Celia followed her into the little sitting-room. It was a tiny place,

but it was scrupulously clean and neat. Susie placed a chair for the

visitor, and stood, with her baby pressed close to her, her eyes

downcast. Her girlish face, pretty, notwithstanding the lines and

hollows graved by sorrow, was like a mask in its impassivity. It was as

if she were saying, "You have come, but I did not ask you to do so; I do

not want you. I have all I want here, lying on my bosom."

"Let me have him for a moment," begged Celia, who, young as she was,

comprehended the girl's feelings. "How sweet he looks!" she exclaimed,

as she took the child and kissed it.




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