Summer came. And early in July all the gossips in Huntsdean were talking of the rich family who had taken Laurel House. Mr. Gold, they said, was a retired merchant from Warwickshire, who was as wealthy as a nabob. His household consisted of a wife and six children, a governess, and menservants and maidservants. And when Nelly heard that the governess was a Miss Hazleburn, the name awoke no recollections. She had quite forgotten the little poem in the _Monthly Guest_. The Channells called on the new-comers, and were received by Miss Hazleburn. Illness kept Mrs. Gold in her own room for some weeks after her arrival in Huntsdean, and on Eve devolved the unwelcome task of seeing visitors. The one whom she most dreaded and most longed to see did not come. She saw him in church, and that was all. She had determined that her stay in Huntsdean should be as short as possible. Already she was answering advertisements, and doing her utmost to get away from the place. It was hard upon her, she thought, that among the earliest callers should be Nelly Channell. Yet when she saw the girl she felt a thrill of secret satisfaction. This, then, was the woman before whom she was preferred; and Eve's eyes told her that she could no more be compared with Nelly than a daisy can be compared with a rose! But the poor daisy, growing in life's highway, unsheltered from the storms of the world, was loved better than the beautiful garden flower. She was human, and she could not help rejoicing in her unsuspected triumph. Nelly took a girl's sudden and unreasonable liking to the governess. She wanted Miss Hazleburn to be her friend; she talked of her to everybody, including Morgan Foster. "Have you seen her, Morgan?" she asked. "I have seen her in church," he answered. "Then you haven't called on the Golds yet," said Nelly. "Why don't you go there?" "The rector has called," Morgan replied, "and there really is no need for a curate to be thrusting himself into rich folks' houses unless they are ill." "You didn't mind coming to our house," rejoined Nelly, "and I daresay we are as rich as the Golds. But you can't judge of Miss Hazleburn by seeing her in church, Morgan. It is in conversation that you find out how charming she is. And actually there is something in her that reminds me of you! I can't tell where the resemblance lies--it may be in the voice, or it may be in the face, but I am certain that it exists." "It exists only in your imagination," said Morgan, bent upon changing the subject.