"If you come you will be welcome," returned Mrs. Cheyne; and then, with a grave inclination of the head, she swept out of the room. CHAPTER XXVII. A DARK HOUR. "I should go one evening, if I were you: it is easy to see that Mrs. Cheyne has taken a fancy to you," said Nan, who was much interested by this recital; but to this Phillis replied, with a very decided shake of the head,-- "I shall do nothing of the kind; I was not made to be a fine lady's _protegee_. If she patronized me, I should grow savage and show my teeth; and, as I have no desire to break the peace, we had better remain strangers. Dear Magdalene certainly has a temper!" finished Phillis, with a wicked little sneer. Nan tried to combat this resolution, and used a great many arguments: she was anxious that Phillis should avail herself of this sudden fancy on the part of Mrs. Cheyne to lift herself and perhaps all of them into society with their equals. Nan's good sense told her that though at present the novelty and excitement of their position prevented them from realizing the full extent of their isolation, in time it must weigh on them very heavily, and especially on Phillis, who was bright and clever and liked society; but all her words were powerless against Phillis's stubbornness: to the White House she could not and would not go. But one evening she changed her mind very suddenly, when a note from Miss Mewlstone reached her. A gardener's boy brought it: "it was very particular, and was to be delivered immediate to the young lady," he observed, holding the missive between a very grimy finger and thumb. "MY DEAR YOUNG LADY,-- "Pride is all very well, but charity is often best in the long run, and a little kindness to a suffering human being is never out of place in a young creature like you. "Poor Magdalene has been very sadly for days, and I have got it into my stupid old head--that is always fancying things--that she has been watching for folks who have been too proud to come, though she would die sooner than tell me so; but that is her way, poor dear! "It is ill to wake at nights with nothing but sad thoughts for company, and it is ill wearing out the long days with only a silly old body to cheer one up; and when there is nothing fresh to say, and nothing to expect, and not a footstep or a voice to break the silence, then it seems to me that a young voice--that is, a kind voice--would be welcome. Take this hint, my dear, and keep my counsel, for I am only a silly old woman, as she often says. "Yours, Bathsheba Mewlstone." "Oh, I must go now!" observed Phillis, in an embarrassed voice, as she laid this singular note before Nan.