When Joyce arrived at The Chase, Sarah rushed to meet her foster-child, and whispered, as well as her tears would allow her— "I see now what I could never understand before. I could not believe I was sent here for my good; but I believe it now, darling. I was sent before, in a little way, like Joseph was, to do good to them that sold him for a slave. And I can be of use to you, though I'm only a servant." To Joyce, the clasp of those loving arms was indescribably comforting, and she found that Sarah was the only person on whom she could rely for open, hearty sympathy. Her uncle wished to show it, but a mark of affection on his part was sure to call for the opposite on the side of his wife who seemed resolved that a bare shelter should be all that Joyce should have under her roof. The orphan girl was soon weary of her position, and, writhing under the slights she had received, would have been thankful to earn her bread by any honest means rather than continue to receive what was so grudgingly bestowed. She wished to please Mrs. Evans and to gain the affection of her cousins, but every effort seemed vain. Had there been young children in the house, her time would have been occupied, but there were none. Her cousins desired no such companion as herself; and, as Mr. Evans' niece, she could not very well be entirely ignored. But there was a tacit understanding between mother and daughters that Joyce should be "kept in her place," whilst Joyce herself, with a sore heart and memories of a happy, if comparatively humble, home, vainly wished that she had any definite place to fill and work to do. CHAPTER II. "I HAVE not a friend here but you, Sarah. I must leave this miserable place," said Joyce, between her sobs. "The master is your friend, darling. He loves you." "What can he do? He is worse off than I am. How can he bear my aunt's taunts about money, and all she has brought him? If I were a man, I would—" "If you were a married man with a wife and daughters, you would not find it easy to run away from your home ties, though they may feel a little tight sometimes. And what could you do, dearie, if you left The Chase?" "That is my trouble, Sarah. I would go as a governess, but they all make game, and sneer at the idea of such a thing. I am not accomplished, and people seem to advertise only for ladies who know everything. Servants with clever fingers like yours are much better off than the half-taught children of gentlemen. They get good wages, and are so independent. They generally spend a great deal on clothes, but they are not obliged to do so. Do you think any one would take me as a nursemaid? Not to tiny babies; I could not attend to them, though I should dearly love it, for I have never been amongst them. But I could look after older children, and I can sew well." "What! Go as a servant. Only a servant! Oh, Miss Joyce, if the master could know!" Sarah lifted her hands in horror; but Joyce said—