Aurelia only shook her head, and asked if Mrs. Loveday had seen that she had finished sorting the shells. Yes; and as she was now dressed they went down together to the sitting-room. The shutters were still closed, Madge would not put a hand to the room except on the compulsion, and Aurelia’s enemies had left evidence of their work; not only was the odour of the room like that of a barn, but the paper bags had in some cases been bitten through, and the shells scattered about, and of the loaf and butter which Aurelia had left on a high shelf in the cupboard nothing remained but a few fragments. Loveday was very much shocked, all the more when Aurelia quietly said she should not mind it so much if the rats would only stay down stairs, and not run over her in bed. “Yet you will not sign the paper.” “I cannot,” again said Aurelia. “My stars, I never could abear rats! Why they fly at one’s throat sometimes!” “I hope God will take care of me,” said Aurelia, in a trembling voice. “He did last night.” Loveday began a formal leave-taking curtsey, but presently turned back. “There now,” she said, “I cannot do it, I couldn’t sleep a wink for thinking of you among the rats! Look here, I shall send a porter to bring away those shells if you’ll make up their bags again that the nasty vermin have eaten, and there’s a little terrier dog about the place that no one will miss, he shall bring it down, and depend upon it, the rats won’t venture near it.” “Oh! thank you, Mrs. Loveday, how good you are!” “Ah, don’t then! If you could say that my dear!” Mrs. Loveday hurried away, and after breakfasting, Aurelia repaired the ravages of the rats, and made a last sorting of the residuum of shell dust, discovering numerous minute beauties, which awoke in her the happy thought of the Creator’s individual love. She had not yet finished before Madge’s voice was heard in querulous anger, and a heavy tread came along with her. A big man, who could have carried ten times the weight of the box of shells, came in with a little white dog with black ears, under his arm. “There,” said the amiable guardian of the house, “that smart madam says that it’s her ladyship’s pleasure you should have that little beast to keep down the rats. As if my cats was not enough! But mind you, Madam Really, if so be he meddles with my cats, it will be the worse for him.” The porter took up the box, and departed, and Aurelia was left with her new companion sniffing all round the room, much excited by the neighbourhood of his natural enemies. However, he obeyed her call, and let her make friends, and read the name on the brass plate upon his collar. When she read “Sir A. Belamour, Bart.,” she took the little dog in her arms and kissed it’s white head.