Her ladyship preceded her to her own old bedroom, where a huge fire, and bright wax candles bade her welcome, and whither she was followed by Frisk, who was exuberant in his demonstrations of delight at his return home after his long absence. 'I have ordered my maid to wait on you my dear,' said Freda's stepmother, 'because I find your's does not return to you. But we can replace her. Dinner will be ready whenever you are; can I do anything for you?' 'No, thank you, I shall not be long,' said Freda mechanically. Lady Mary left the room. Freda felt that her tact was good after all; for no nice feeling could have been more successful than it was. She had received her just as if she had come home after a short absence. No demonstrations of any kind; her room was much as it had ever been. There were even some of her clothes in the wardrobe. 'I won't cry! I won't give way!' muttered Freda, beginning to take off her wrappings. There was a tap at the door. 'Come in!' And Anne the old housemaid appeared. 'Oh, miss, I am so glad to see you home again, it do seem so natural. Please to let me unpack your things, miss. My lady thought you might like me better than Mrs Pink.' 'Thank you, Anne, it does look like home to see you.' 'Shall I get your dress, miss?' 'I can't dress to-night, I am too tired. There, that will do. Now I will go downstairs.' She did so, and found her father alone in the library. 'I won't cry,' again she said, as she kissed him affectionately. 'Thank you for coming, Freda, it will do me good, and my wife is delighted. Harold, too, is in ecstasies, and only went to bed with a promise that sister Freda--he calls you sister, you know, and--and all that sort of thing.' The 'my wife,' grated strangely on Freda's ear, but she promised to go and see her little brother. Lady Mary came in, and they went to dinner. It seemed strange to see her at the head of the table, and Freda felt as if she were in a dream. But nothing could be more perfect than her ladyship's manner. She behaved as if nothing had ever happened to cause the least estrangement between them, and almost as if she were still Lady Mary Nugent. Handsome as ever, and perfectly well-bred, she almost made even Freda believe, after her long absence from her, that she really was what she seemed. However, Freda tried to take her as she was, and to feel thankful that she was no worse. It was she who principally kept up the conversation; Freda made great efforts, and signally failed, and Mr Gwynne never talked much. After dinner, Freda proposed to go and see the little brother. As she looked at the magnificent boy who lay peacefully sleeping in his little crib, she was thankful to be able to kiss him, and say, 'God bless you, my brother,' without feeling angered that he had deprived her of the inheritance she had once been so proud of. She knew that Lady Mary was watching her narrowly, but there was no hypocrisy in her affection, so she did not care.