Miss Paterson, the rector's daughter, was Margery's governess, but being the only girl in a large family, her time was divided between her home duties and her daily teaching. She was a fine, intelligent girl, well-educated, of a bright temperament, and with a disposition essentially tender and sympathetic, and yet by no means wanting in decision. At Monks Lea she was not only Margery's governess, but the valued friend and frequent companion of Mrs. Austin, who had found the girl's bright presence a great comfort. Of late her duties as teacher had been almost suspended, her one pupil's delicate state having rendered regular lessons unadvisable. But Mrs. Austin gratefully acknowledged her still more important services in cheering the child and trying to turn her thoughts from Dorothy. From her Mrs. Austin was certain of sympathy and help in her difficulty. Leaving Barbara with her little daughter, she drove straight to the rectory, and told her story. The faces of Mrs. Austin's hearers brightened as they listened, and Mr. Paterson and his wife cordially entered into the plan. "I believe," said the rector, "you have hit upon the best remedy for your dear child's ailment, and that you are going to administer it in the best manner also. Ellen shall meet the stranger little one at the station, and bring her here. Village people gossip so, that if you received her there the news that there was a little girl guest coming to Monks Lea would reach your nursery before you arrived at home, and spoil everything. As our visitor, she will excite no notice, for the small fry belonging to the various branches of our family are constantly coming and going." "There is not much time. Let Ellen take the carriage to the station, and I will await her return with the child. So many thanks for your kind help," said Mrs. Austin. Trains do not stay long at village stations, and Ellen Paterson was only just aware that a little girl in mourning garments was tenderly lifted from a first-class carriage by the guard, and with her belongings deposited on the platform, the station-master's attention having been called to her and a paper thrust into his hand. The carriage lights and those outside showed the faces of two lady passengers who were looking wistfully after their late companion, and then the train moved off, and was lost to sight. Ellen advanced, and, addressing the station-master, said— "I have come to meet a little friend. The Monks Lea carriage is waiting. Mrs. Austin was calling upon my mother, and kindly lent it for me to take our visitor back in." "Here's the little party, no doubt, Miss Ellen. Funny way of sending a child, but all right if she were coming into your hands. Here's her label." He showed the paper received from the guard, and Ellen read— "Miss Clare. Newthorpe Station. To be called for."