[Illustration: “‘HOW DO YOU DO, MISS ASQUITH?’” (_p. 201._)] monotonously with that “One, two, three,” went on and on. Little Miss Rotherham’s hair was very dark, very much crimped, and standing out in a bush, very unlike the natural fair locks of the children at home. She was about the same size as little Mary, Hetty said to herself, but Mary played better, though she had never had any lessons, and her hair was so soft, falling with just a soft twist in it, which was natural. But oh, how much happier Mary must be with all her brothers and sisters. Hetty ended by saying, “Poor little thing!” to herself quite softly as the lesson went on. When Rhoda got up from her lesson, she came, instructed by the governess, and gave Hetty her hand, and said, “How do you do, Miss Asquith?” She had a little dark face, quite in keeping with her dark hair, and a small person, very slight and straight, not round and plump, as the Asquiths were at that age. Hetty, who, by reason of her large family was truly maternal in her way, and knew all about children, regretted instinctively that this little thing was so thin, and wondered if she were delicate, or if she were getting better of something, which might account for it. At the same moment a footman brought in tea--a footman in livery, who seemed to Hetty’s unaccustomed eyes grotesque and out of place--and then the three proceeded to make acquaintance over their bread-and-butter. “You have had rather a long journey. I fear you must be very tired,” the governess said. “Oh no,” said Hetty. “It is not like walking. In the railway there is nothing to tire one.” “Don’t you think so? But perhaps you have had a great deal of travelling?” “I never,” said Hetty, the tears coming to her eyes, “was away from home before.” “That is always rather a trial,” said Miss Hofland, sympathetically, “but I hope you’ll soon feel quite at home with Rhoda and me. We are all that is here, nothing but Rhoda and me, and the servants of course. We lead a very quiet life, but you heard of that, no doubt. We take our walk in the park, and we pay great attention to our lessons, oh, great attention, Miss Asquith. We are working very hard in order to astonish mamma when she comes back. We think that when she sees the progress that has been made, she will be very much pleased.” At this Rhoda lifted up a somewhat sharp little voice, and declared that she did not think mamma cared. “Oh, how can you say so, my dear child? No one knows how much mothers care. Perhaps they may not say so to their little girls, but it is the first wish of their hearts to see their children get on. Isn’t that so, Miss Asquith? I am sure you know.” “It is mamma’s first wish--oh, to have everything she can for the children,” cried Hetty, the tears, which were so very near her eyes, coming again. “I told you so, Rhoda,” said Miss Hofland, with a little air of triumph.