"Know you not there is a power Strong as death, which from above Once was given--a fadeless dower, Blessed with the name of love! On it hangs how many a tale! Tales of human joys and woes; Fan it with an adverse gale, Then it strong and stronger grows. J. B. KERRIDGE. "Such a fuss about a piece of embroidery!" exclaimed Mason, entering the servants' hall; "one would think Miss Neville had lost half a fortune instead of a trumpery piece of needle-work. I'm sure she's welcome to any of mine," and she tossed over the contents of her work-box with a contemptuous nod of the head. "I don't suppose it was very much better than this--or this!" and she drew forth an elaborate strip of work; either a careless gift from her mistress, or one of her righteous cribbings, such as servants in places like hers think it no robbery to appropriate to themselves. "Law! Mrs. Mason, however did you work it?" asked Mary, in her simplicity. "It's one of Madam's cast-offs, I expect," said Mrs. Hopkins, with some asperity of manner. "It don't much signify where I got it, or who it belonged to; it's mine now, and as good, I know, as the piece Miss Neville's turning the house upside down for. Governesses always make places disagreeable; they're sure to lose something or another, and then wonder who's taken it, and then make us out a pack of thieves. I've made up my mind never to take a situation again where there's a governess." "Does Miss Neville accuse anybody of having taken it?" asked Mrs. Hopkins, more sternly than before, and certainly more sharply. "Well; no, Mrs. Hopkins, she doesn't exactly do that, she wouldn't dare to; but a hint's as good as a plain-spoken word sometimes. I know I could scarcely stand quiet in Madam's room just now. I did say I was surprised she hadn't lost something more valuable, and should have spoken my mind more plainly than that, but you know Madam's temper as well as I do, Mrs. Hopkins; it isn't for me to tell you; and I can't always say what I wish. She had been put out, too, about that new violet silk dress; it's been cut a trifle too short waisted--a nasty fault--and doesn't fit as it ought, so it couldn't have happened at a more awkward time. Besides, I believe Madam thinks Miss Neville an angel, so quiet and '_mum_;' for my part I dislike people that can't say 'bo' to a goose; and I don't think Miss Neville would jump if a thunderbolt fell at her feet." This remark set Mary, and Jane, Frances Strickland's maid, laughing; but not a muscle of Mrs. Hopkin's face moved as she asked-- "How did you happen to hear of the loss of the piece of work?"