Miss Featherstone, although prejudiced at first against Colonel Pinckney, grew by degrees to like him. His manner to her was grave and respectful; he carried off the children, quite conveniently sometimes, when she was almost worn out with fatigue; and the air of friendly interest with which his dark eyes rested upon her was in a manner comforting. Their little interviews, although she was unconscious of it, gave zest to her life. One cold morning, as she sat before breakfast with little Harry on her lap, warming his hands before the dining-room fire, Colonel Pinckney exclaimed, "Miss Featherstone, did you have the care of that child last night?" "Yes," as she pressed the fat little hands in hers. "And dressed him this morning?" "Why, yes. Colonel Pinckney, excuse me: why shouldn't I?" "Virginia is the most selfish human being I ever knew in my life," he burst forth. "You, after working like a slave during the day, cannot even have your night's rest undisturbed. I'll speak to her, and insist upon it that this state of things shall not continue any longer." Miss Featherstone looked annoyed: "Mr. Pinckney"--she never would, if she remembered it, call him "Colonel"--"I beg that you will do nothing of the kind. Mrs. Pinckney is quite ill with a cold: she can scarcely speak above a whisper, and she required Adele's services during the night. I volunteered--it was my own arrangement--sleeping with the child," eagerly. "Oh yes," he returned, "you are remarkably well suited to each other--you and Virginia: you give, and she takes," sarcastically. "Listen, Miss Featherstone. I have known that woman twelve years--it is exactly twelve years since my unfortunate brother married her--and in all that time I never knew her consider but one human being, and that was herself." "Indeed, you're very much mistaken, Colonel--that is, Mr.--Pinckney, as far as I am concerned. Mrs. Pinckney is really very kind to me. I am exceedingly fond of her, but I cannot bear to see things going wrong, and when I can I make them right. Mrs. Pinckney is in delicate health." "That's all nonsense," he interrupted. "She spends her time studying her sensations. If she were poor she'd have something better to do. I think you are doing wrong morally, Miss Featherstone. You are encouraging her in idleness and selfishness by taking her duties and bearing them on your young shoulders.--Now, Harry, come here," to that small individual, who slowly and unwillingly descended from the governess's lap: "leave Miss Featherstone, my young friend, to pour out the coffee and eat her own breakfast. Adele is with mamma, is she? Well, Uncle Dick will give Harry his breakfast." The cold was intense the following day, yet Miss Featherstone, well muffled up, was on her way to the hall-door, where the sleigh was waiting to take her to the station. "Forgive me," exclaimed Colonel Pinckney, who waylaid her, much to her annoyance, "but what are you going to do for the family now?"