And then Grace found herself kneeling at her friend's feet.

"Grace," she said, "do you not know that I love you?
Do you not know that I love you dearly ?" In answer to this, Grace kissed the withered hand she held in hers, while the warm tears trickled down upon Miss Prettyman's knuckles.

"I love you as though you were my own," exclaimed the schoolmistress; "and will you not trust me, that I know what is best for you ?" [Illustration: "I love you as though you were my own," said the Schoolmistress.] "I must go home," said Grace.
"Of course you shall, if you think it right at last; but let us talk of it.

No one in this house, you know, has the slightest suspicion that your father has done anything that is in the least dishonourable." "I know that you have not." "No, nor has Anne." Miss Prettyman said this as though no one in that house beyond herself and her sister had a right to have any opinion on any subject.
"I know that," said Grace.
"Well, my dear.

If we think so--" "But the servants, Miss Prettyman ?" "If any servant in this house says a word to offend you, I'll--I'll--" "They don't say anything, Miss Prettyman, but they look.