'My dear Olive, you must not allow yourself to form such morbid ideas. Polly is very original, and will charm you into liking her, before many days are over; even our fastidious Richard shows signs of relenting.' 'Oh, but he will never care for her as Roy seems to do already. Cardie cares for so few people; you don't half know how particular he is, and how soon he is offended; nothing but perfection will ever please him,' she finished with a sigh. 'We must not be too hard in our estimate of other people. I am half inclined to find fault with Richard myself in this respect; he does not make sufficient allowance for a very young housekeeper,' laying her hand softly on Olive's dark hair; and as the girl looked up at her quickly, surprised by the caressing action, Mildred noticed, for the first time, the bright intelligence of the brown eyes. 'Oh, you must not say that,' she returned, colouring painfully. 'Cardie is very good, and helps me as much as he can; but you see he was so used to seeing mamma do everything so beautifully.' 'It is not worse for Richard than for the others.' 'Oh yes, it is; she made so much of him, and they were always together. Roy feels it dreadfully; but he is light-hearted, and forgets it at times. I don't think Cardie ever does.' 'How do you know; does he tell you so?' asked Mildred, with kindly scrutiny. Olive shook her head mournfully. 'No, he never talks to me, at least in that way; but I know it all the same; one can tell it by his silence and pained look. It makes him irritable too. Roy has terrible breaks-down sometimes, and so has Chriss; but no one knows what Cardie suffers.' Mildred dropped her work, and regarded the young speaker attentively. There was womanly thoughtfulness, and an underlying tenderness in the words of this girl of fifteen; under the timid reserve there evidently beat a warm, affectionate heart. For a moment Mildred scanned the awkward hunching of the shoulders, the slovenly dress and hair, and the plain, cloudy face, so slow to beam into anything like a smile; Olive's normal expression seemed a heavy, anxious look, that furrowed her brow with unnatural lines, and made her appear years older than her actual age; the want of elasticity and the somewhat slouching gait confirming this impression. 'If she were not so plain; if she would only dress and hold herself like other people, and be a little less awkward,' sighed Mildred. 'No wonder Richard's fastidiousness is so often offended; but his continual fault-finding makes her worse. She is too humble-minded to defend herself, and too generous to resent his interference. If I do not mistake, this girl has a fine nature, though it is one that is difficult to understand; but to think of this being Betha's daughter!' and a vision rose before Mildred of the slight, graceful figure and active movements of the bright young house-mother, so strangely contrasted with Olive's clumsy gestures.