"Still," replied the governess, "it teaches us plenty of what you love so much--truth." The beautiful face grew very serious and thoughtful. "Why are so many truths disagreeable and sad? If I could rule, I would have the world so bright, so fair and glad, every one so happy. I cannot understand all this under-current of sorrow." "Comte did not explain it, then, to your satisfaction?" said Miss Hastings. "Comte!" cried the girl, impatiently. "I am not obliged to believe all I read! Once and for all, Miss Hastings, I do not believe in Comte or his fellows. I only read what he wrote because people seemed to think it clever to have done so. You know--you must know--that I believe in our great Father. Who could look round on this lovely world and not do so?" Miss Hastings felt more hopeful of the girl then than she had ever felt before. Such strange, wild theories had fallen at times from her lips that it was some consolation to know she had still a child's faith. Then came an interruption in the shape of a footman, with Sir Oswald's compliments, and would the ladies go to the drawing-room? There were visitors. "Who are they?" asked Miss Darrell, abruptly. The man replied: "Sir George and Lady Hampton." "I shall not go," said Pauline, decidedly; "that woman sickens me with her false airs and silly, false graces. I have not patience to talk to her." "Sir Oswald will not be pleased," remonstrated Miss Hastings. "That I cannot help--it is not my fault. I shall not make myself a hypocrite to please Sir Oswald." "Society has duties which must be discharged, and which do not depend upon our liking; we must do our duty whether we like it or not." "I detest society," was the abrupt reply--"it is all a sham!" "Then why not do your best to improve it? That would surely be better than to abuse it." "There is something in that," confessed Miss Darrell, slowly. "If we each do our little best toward making the world even ever so little better than we found it," said Miss Hastings, "we shall not have lived in vain." There was a singular grandeur of generosity about the girl. If she saw that she was wrong in an argument or an opinion, she admitted it with the most charming candor. That admission she made now by rising at once to accompany Miss Hastings. The drawing-room at Darrell Court was a magnificent apartment; it had been furnished under the superintendence of the late Lady Darrell, a lady of exquisite taste. It was all white and gold, the white hangings with bullion fringe and gold braids, the white damask with a delicate border of gold; the pictures, the costly statues gleamed in the midst of rich and rare flowers; graceful ornaments, tall, slender vases were filled with choicest blossoms; the large mirrors, with their golden frames, were each and all perfect in their way. There was nothing gaudy, brilliant, or dazzling; all was subdued, in perfect good taste and harmony.