AND, whilst poor Jenny was pursuing her lonely way through the darkness, one whom she deemed her enemy was in a very different case--Miss Tina Gillan, at that moment dressing for the evening, in an apartment of Mr Lee’s house at the top of Lindum Hill. It was a large room that had been prepared for her, the darkness and lights of the valley were hidden by closed blinds, there was a blazing fire which made cheerful, dancing radiance, and her dress for the evening was laid out upon the bed. After the cold, dark drive in an open carriage from the village, this seemed a haven of warmth, and rest, and peace. Only Tina was not quite pleased that no maid had been provided--it would have been so luxurious to have a lady’s maid! She stood now in the centre of the large, lighted room, with a crimson wrapper beneath her rippling hair, and surveyed all the place with her bright, glancing eyes, and then threw herself in the armchair to make trial of it. Everything was complete, and of the best and softest--armchair, bed, sofa--there was no fault to be found. And she had been admitted to her uncle’s house at last, and this was the beginning of luxury. Only she was glad that the closed blinds shut out the valley, its lights and its blackness displeased her, though she did not know why they should. And yet--oh! was it not natural that she should wish to turn from the wide-reaching blackness pierced by many points of light, now that she was at last in the shelter she had longed for, far removed from old hardships and wanderings? Every glance at the room told of comfort and riches--and comfort and riches meant everything else as well--they meant ease, safety, soft living, daintiness, rich dresses, fine lovers, theatres, music, all the rest! All sorts of possibilities were between her hands. It would be at length of some use to be beautiful! The old life of shabbiness, hardships, shifts, and recklessness might be cast on one side--it could be discarded now.