Rowena stared thoughtfully at the fire. Her face looked older, the cheeks less rounded, the red lips dropping at the corner. She was a beautiful girl, but the old sparkle had given place to an air of weary endurance sad to see on a young face. At the moment when she had expected most of life, she had been obliged to give up her dreams, and to accept in their place a monotonous, uneventful existence, which left too much time for the indulgence of her own thoughts. The weather was depressing, visitors few and far between, and, from a girl's point of view, lacking in interest when they did arrive. Maud was stupid and obstinate, Dreda and the boys at school, and the parents depressed. Lessons, walking, and practising occupied the days until four o'clock, then the curtains were drawn, the lamps lit, and each afternoon afresh Rowena counted up the long hours which must elapse before bedtime, and asked herself how she could get through the time. Poor Rowena! She had counted the days until Dreda's return, and now felt yet another pang of depression at meeting this subdued edition of her lively sister. She sighed in melancholy, long-drawn fashion, while Maud wriggled and grimaced. "I expect she's _misunderstood_. There's lots of people are, besides the book. I know One who is. She's misunderstood by people who think they know best, and are always scolding and finding fault. `'Tis better far to rule by love than fear.' _I_ shall, when I'm big. You could do something then, but when people are always grumbling, it's no use trying. I expect Dreda has some one like that, and it's broken her spirit. If you don't let her leave, she'll pine away and die!" "Is that what you contemplate doing yourself beneath the persecution of the people, or person, to whom you so eloquently refer? I must give you a lesson in nominatives to-morrow, my dear. They are evidently another point which is misunderstood," retorted Rowena with cutting composure. It was one of the little encounters which was daily, almost hourly, taking place between the two sisters, whose widely differing dispositions seemed to jar more than ever in the close relationship of teacher and pupil. Mrs Saxon was greatly troubled by the continual friction, and she, like her daughter, had been anxiously looking forward to Dreda's visit as a healthful enlivening influence which could not fail to do good. And now Dreda was so mysteriously subdued and silent! What had happened to change the child so strangely in six short weeks?