'You know I never promised,' she returned, as though trying to defend herself. 'I never think it fair to extort promises--people's better moods so rapidly pass away. If you remember, I only advised you to do so. I thought it would do you both good.' 'You need not rank us in the same category,' she returned, proudly; 'you are such a leveller of classes, Dr. Heriot.' 'Forgive me, but when you reach Jessie's standard of excellence, I would willingly do so. Jessie is a living proof of my theory--that we are all equal--and the education and refinement on which you lay such stress are only adventitious adjuncts to our circumstances. In one sense--we are old friends, Miss Trelawny; and I may speak plainly, I know--I consider Jessie greatly your superior.' A quick sensitive colour rose to Ethel's face. They were walking through the shrubbery; and for a moment she turned her long neck aside, as though to hide her pained look; but she answered, calmly-- 'We differ so completely in our estimates of things; I am quite aware how high I stand in Dr. Heriot's opinion.' 'Are you sure of that?' answering her with the sort of amused gentleness with which one would censure a child. 'I am apt to keep my thoughts to myself, and am not quite so easy to read as you are, Miss Trelawny. So you will not go and see my favourite Jessie?' with a persuasive smile. 'No,' she said, colouring high; 'I am not in the mood for it.' 'Then we will say no more about it; and my remedy has failed.' But though he talked pleasantly to her for the remainder of the way, Mildred noticed he had his grave look, and that Ethel failed to rally her spirits. CHAPTER X THE RUSH-BEARING 'Heigho! daises and buttercups, Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall, A sunshiny world full of laughter and leisure, And fresh hearts unconscious of sorrow and thrall! Send down on their pleasure smiles passing its measure, God that is over us all.'--Jean Ingelow. Mildred soon became accustomed to Dr. Heriot's constant presence about the house, and the slight restraint she had at first felt rapidly wore off. She soon looked upon it as a matter of course to see him at least three evenings in the week; loneliness was not to his taste, and in consequence, when he was not otherwise engaged, he generally shared their evening meal at the vicarage, and remained an hour afterwards, talking to Mr. Lambert or Richard. Mildred ceased to start with surprise at finding him in the early morning turning over the books in her brother's study, or helping Polly and Chriss in their new fernery. Polly was made happy by frequent invitations to her guardian's house, where she soon made herself at home, coming back to Mildred with delightful accounts of how her guardian had allowed her to dust his books and mend his gloves; and how he had approved of the French coffee she had made him.