Miss Starbrow looked at her, but without speaking; the maid instantly retired to obey the order, and when she set the cup and plate of bread-and-butter on the tray her hand trembled, while her mistress, with a slight smile on her lips, watched her face, white with suppressed rage. After tea, during which Miss Starbrow had been strangely kind and gentle to the girl, she said: “Perhaps you can help me take off my dress, Fan, and comb out my hair.” This was strange work for Fan, but her intense desire to do something for her mistress partly compensated for her ignorance and awkwardness, and after a little while she found that combing those long rich black tresses was an easy and very delightful task. Miss Starbrow sat with eyes half-closed before the glass, only speaking once or twice to tell Fan not to hurry. “The longer you are with my hair the better I like it,” she said. Fan was only too glad to prolong the task; it was such a pleasure to feel the hair of this woman who was now so much to her; if the glass had not been before them--the glass in which from time to time she saw the half-closed eyes studying her face--she would more than once have touched the dark tresses she held in her hand to her lips. Miss Starbrow, however, spoke no more to her, but finishing her dressing went down to her seven o'clock dinner, leaving Fan alone by the fire. After dinner she came up again and sat by the bedroom fire in the dark room. Then Rosie came up to her. “Captain Horton is in the drawing-room, ma'am,” she said. Miss Starbrow rose to go to her visitor. “You can stay where you are, Fan, until bed-time,” she said. “And by-and-by the maid will give you some supper in the back room. Is Rosie impudent to you--how has she been treating you to-day?” Fan was filled with distress, remembering her promise, and cast down her eyes. “Very well, say nothing; that's the best way, Fan. Take no notice of what anyone says to you. Servants are always vile, spiteful creatures, and will act after their kind. Good-night, my girl,” and with that she went downstairs. Fan sat there for half an hour longer in the grateful twilight and warmth of that luxurious room, and then Rosie's voice startled her crying at the door: “Doggie! doggie! come and have its supper.” Fan got up and went to the next room, where her supper and a lighted lamp were on the centre table. Rosie followed her. “Can you tell the truth?” she said. “Yes,” returned Fan. “Well, then, have you told Miss Starbrow?” “No.” “Did she ask you anything?” “Yes, and I didn't tell her.” “Oh, how very kind!” said Rosie; and giving her a box on the ear, ran out of the room.