"At least it is always so written in books." [Illustration: "YOU SAY 'AH!' AND IT MEANS NOTHING.

I LOOK AT YOUR FACE AND IT SAYS NOTHING."] After this qualified statement Isabella sat with her firm white hands clasped together in idleness on her lap.

She was not a woman to fill in the hours with the trifling occupation of the work-basket, and yet was never aught but womanly in dress, manner, and, as I take it, thought.

Lucille's fingers, on the contrary, were never still, and before she had lived at Hopton a fortnight she had half a dozen small protegees in the village for whom she fashioned little garments.
It was she who broke the short silence--her companion seemed to be waiting for that or for something else.
"Do you think," she asked, "that mother trusts Mr.Howard too much?
She places implicit faith in all he says or does--just as my father did when he was alive." Isabella--than whom none was more keenly alive to my many failings--paused before she answered, in her measured way: "It all depends upon his motive in undertaking the management of your affairs." "Oh--he is paid," said Lucille, rather hurriedly.

"He is paid, of course." "This house is his; the land, so far as you can see from any of the windows, is his also.