It was seldom that Anna alluded to herself in this way, and to do so to a stranger was utterly foreign to the Richards’ nature. But Anna could not help it. There was something about Adah which interested her greatly. She knew she was above a waiting-maid’s position, that in point of refinement and cultivation she was fully equal to herself; and when she decided to keep her, it was with the determination that she should be made to feel the degradation of her position as little as possible. She could not wholly shield her from her mother’s and sisters’ pride, but she would do what she could, and perhaps some day the recreant lover would be found and brought back to a sense of his duty. Blessed Anna Richards,—the world has few like her, so gentle, so kind, so lovely, and as no one could long be with her and not feel her influence, so Adah grew calm, at last, and at Anna’s request laid aside her cloak and hat in which she had been sitting. “Touch that bell, if you please, and ring Pamelia up,” Anna said. “There’s a little room adjoining this, opening into the hall, and also in here—that’s the door, with the bureau against it. I mean to give you that. You will be so near me, and so retired, too, when you like. John—that’s my brother—occupied it when a boy, but as he grew larger he said it was too small. Still, I think it will answer nicely for you.” Obedient to the ring, Pamelia came, manifesting no surprise when told by Anna to move the dressing bureau back to the corner where it used to stand, to unlock the door and see if the little room was in order. “I know it is,” she said, “I put it so this morning. There’s a fire, too. Miss Anna has forgot that Dr. John slept here last night, because it did not take so long to warm up as his big chamber.” “I do remember now,” Anna replied. “Mrs. Hastings can go in at once. She must be tired; and, Pamelia, send lunch to her room, and tell your husband to bring up her trunk.” Again Pamelia bowed and departed to do her young mistress’ bidding, while Adah entered the pleasant room where Dr. Richards had slept the previous night, leaving behind him, as he always did, an odor of cigars. Adah detected the perfume, but it was not disagreeable—on the contrary, it reminded her of George, and for a brief moment there stole over her a feeling as if in some way she were brought very near to him by being in Dr. Richards’ room! What a cosy place it was, and how she wished the people at Spring Bank could know all about it. How thankful they would be, and how thankful she was for this resting place in the protection of sweet Anna Richards. It was better than she had ever dared to hope for, and sinking down by the snowy-covered bed, she murmured inaudibly the prayer of thanksgiving to Him who had led her to Terrace Hill.