Susan had given her a key, with injunctions to use it whenever she had time or inclination. Accordingly she entered without ceremony, and to her great surprise she found Julia lying on the sofa, sobbing convulsively. Before Florence could retreat she had looked up and seen her. With the strong will of a proud woman, she sat up directly and composed herself. “My dear Miss Heriton, don’t go away. I have had to excuse myself from lessons this morning, for my head aches intolerably. I’m fit for nothing but to lie here and listen while you play soft, dreamy melodies.” “First let me bathe your temples with cold water, and pull down the blinds,” said Florence, proceeding to carry out her kind intentions without heeding the faint refusal. And Julia grew calmer under those soft, gentle hands that touched her hot brows so tenderly. “You are very good-natured, Miss Heriton, and you are something more--you are an excellent sympathizer. Susan is too good to be that.” “Rather a doubtful compliment this--is it not?” asked Florence, with a smile. “I did not intend it for one at all. I only gave honest utterance to my feelings. I mean that Susan, never being tempted to step out of the regular routine she has made for herself, cannot understand those who stand less firmly nor pity their weaknesses.” “I have formed a very different estimate of your cousin’s character,” said Florence, rather surprised at the tone of Julia’s remarks. “I should think she was very pitiful to all who need her compassion.” “Yes; if any one had actually done wrong, Susan would be an invaluable friend--so merciful, yet so just. But she cannot sympathize with my chafings against all the petty annoyances of poverty. If I were to say how I long to be rich, to wear pretty dresses and jewelry, to ride, to drive, and have no contemptible cares about the few pounds, more or less, which I spend, she would answer with something about being content with what we have got. And I’m not contented. Do you understand?” “Yes,” said Florence, looking at her thoughtfully. “I, too, often wish to be independent of the wearing anxiety about money that oppresses all those who have not enough of it. But I don’t think it is for my own sake--it is on papa’s account.” Julia turned her head away. “Neither do I crave riches solely for myself,” she said, in low tones. “But I’m not as free from ambition as you are, and so I’ll not deny it. Sit down, Miss Heriton, will you? I want to talk to you--I want you to tell me what sort of a person Lady Mason is.” “A very sad, serious lady outwardly, but her dependents and the cottagers near her residence adore her.” “Is your expression, ‘sad and serious,’ a polite way of hinting that she is a stern and unforgiving mother?” asked Julia, after a short silence. “Certainly not. I have heard mamma say that her only fault as a parent was overindulgence to a very reckless and undutiful son.”