"I don't think I am the least like my darling mother," I said, "for she was beautiful." "And don't you remember her?" "I don't remember her. If she were alive I should be quite a different sort of girl. But oh, Hermione! sometimes at night I think of her just when I am dropping off to sleep. She comes to me when I am asleep. To think of any girl having a mother! Oh, it must be the height of bliss and of joy!" Hermione stared at me for a minute; then she said, "I don't understand. I love my father best." "Do you?" I said, a little shocked. "Of course you cannot possibly love your mother's memory as you do your father, for he is such a great man--a man whom all the world is proud of." "But he is only a teacher in a school," I could not help saying. "He could be anything; but he will not leave the school. He loves to instruct the boys. But it isn't for his scholastic work he is known; it is because he is himself, and--and because of those wonderful lectures, so many of which are published. He lectures also at the Royal Society, and he writes pamphlets which set the greatest thinkers all agog. Oh, I should be proud of him if I were you!" "I am glad," I said. I knew that I loved the Professor dearly. Had I not all my life sacrificed myself for his sake, as every one else had also done? Hermione said after a pause, "Miss Donnithorne told me that you were--" "What?" I asked. "A little bit--don't be offended--a little bit neglected." "She had no right to say so; I am not." As I spoke I laid my hand on the dark-blue dress, and all of a sudden I grew to hate it. I disliked Hermione also. "What is the matter?" she said. "Have I hurt you in any way? I wouldn't for all the world. I am so truly glad to make your acquaintance." "You didn't mean to," I said, recovering my temper; "but the fact is, Hermione, I live one life and you live another. You are rich, and we are poor; I am not ashamed to say it." "It must be rather exciting to be poor," said Hermione. "I mean it must be interesting to know the value of money. But you don't look poor, Dumps--or--I mean Rachel. That dress--" "Oh! don't talk of my dress, please." "I know it's bad form," she replied, and she seemed to shrink into her shell. After a minute she spoke on a different subject, and just then a stately but somewhat withered-looking lady entered the room. "Hermione, Miss Donnithorne says that you and Miss Grant must put on your things now in order to return to Hedgerow House, otherwise you won't be in time to receive the Professor." "The Professor?" I cried, jumping to my feet. Hermione laughed. "You don't mean to say that Miss Donnithorne hasn't told you that your father is coming to have tea with you both?" "I didn't know anything about it. My father? But he never leaves London." "He has managed to leave it to-day. How queer that you shouldn't know!" "I had better get dressed; I shouldn't like to be late," I said.