"Well, she came to know the truth, poor dear, when it was too late; when her father was in his grave, and her ladyship wouldn't hear her name spoke. Oh, some folk is hard and no mistake. There was a woman with a comfortable three thousand a year, and not a soul to leave it to but Miss Camilla, and if you believe me, when she went there wasn't not even the name of the poor child mentioned in the will! That's what's forced her to turn round and let these Lancings do for her. Her father had left her what he had, but, bless you, that went noway with the captain having the handling of it! ... I think, my dear," Dennis said here, "as we'd best put down a yard or two of blue serge. I'll run up a couple of dark overalls for the house. That'll make a big difference in the washing bill." "It would be so nice of you if you would give me a few lessons in dressmaking, Dennis," Caroline said; "it seems a pity that the children should have such costly clothes. They only grow out of them. Look at all these lace frocks. They must have cost any amount of money, and they are all torn to ribbons. Perhaps we can use them up in the summer in some way or other." "It's thrift that's wanted here," said Dennis; "just a little thought, just a little care. Of course, I do what I can, but I hate to go vexing her when there's such a lot of other people ready to worrit, and, bless you, you can't put it into the servants' heads. What is it to them when the books run on for months; whose to check 'em? Ah, my dear. There's a sight, of things you could do if you only would!" The parlourmaid brought up a letter for Caroline at this moment, and she put it on one side till she was alone. When everything was thoroughly well arranged Dennis said "good night!" "I'll make time to go along with you in the morning, and the children will enjoy it. Bless you, Miss Betty she loves shoppin' and getting new clothes just as if she was growed up." Caroline opened her letter when she was undressed. It was from Rupert Haverford--a tardy answer to the few lines she had sent him. Nothing could have been colder than this letter. Though he made no definite expression of objection, Caroline felt that he was sharply annoyed at what she had done. This fact annoyed her in its turn. "So Mrs. Brenton was right," she said to herself, "and he _is_ angry. It is very unreasonable and rather absurd! I suppose he expects everybody to give him the obedience of slaves, that any sort of independence is objectionable to him. Well, he is mistaken as far as I am concerned. It is my business to be independent, to think and act for myself, and I am assuredly not going to throw up this work just to please Mr. Haverford." She read the letter through twice.