“Do you think so, _really_, Betty?” said Pamela, with brightening eyes. “What I says is for a bit,” said Betty; “don’t you take up as I’m meaning more--for a bit, Miss Pammly; that’s how them sort does. She’s one as ’ill come every day, and then, when she’s other things in hand, like, or other folks, or feels a bit tired--” “Yes, perhaps,” said Pamela, who had grown very red; “but that need not have any effect on me. If I was fond of any one, I would never, never change, whatever they might do--not if they were to be cruel and unkind--not if they were to forget me--” Here the little girl started, and became very silent all in a moment. And the blush of indignation on her cheek passed and was followed by a softer sweeter color, and her words died away on her lips. And her eyes, which had been shining on old Betty with all the magnanimity of youth, went down, and were covered up under the blue-veined, long-fringed eyelids. The fact was, some one else had come into the lodge--had come without knocking, in a very noiseless, stealthy sort of way--“as if he meant it.” And this new-comer was no less a person than Mr. John. “My sister says you are ill, Betty,” said Jack; “what do you mean by being ill? I am to send in one of your grandchildren from Masterton. What do you say? Shall I? or should you rather be alone?” “It’s allays you for the thoughtful one, Mr. John,” said Betty, gratefully; “though you’re a gentleman, and it don’t stand to reason. But Miss Sara’s a-going to pay; and if there’s a little as is to be arned honest, I’m not one as would send it past my own. There’s little Betsy, as is a tidy bit of a thing. But I ain’t ill, not to say ill, no more nor Miss Pammly here is ill--her as had her ankle sprained in that awful snow.” Mr. John made what Pamela thought a very grand bow at this point of Betty’s speech. He had taken his hat off when he came in. Betty’s doctor, when he came to see her, did not take off his hat, not even when Pamela was present. The little girl had very quick eyes, and she did not fail to mark the difference. After he had made his bow, Mr. John somehow seemed to forget Betty. It was to the little stranger his words, his eyes, his looks, were addressed. “I hope you are better?” he said. “I took the liberty of going to your house to ask, but Mrs. Swayne used to turn me away.” “Oh, thank you; you are very kind,” said Pamela; and then she added, “Mrs. Swayne is very funny. Mamma would have liked to have thanked you, I am sure.” “And I am sure I did not want any thanks,” said Jack; “only to know. You are sure you are better now?”