"I beg your pardon, Miss Brabazon; I would rather not speak of Mr. Henry. When I remember that it is through him we came up to this college, where my boy is being subjected to these slights and insults, I cannot think of him with patience." "Was it through Mr. Henry you came to Orville?" "It was. He wrote to us from Heidelberg, saying he had made an engagement with a first-class college in England, and suggested that George should be placed at it. He could give him so much of his time, he said. And this is the result!—that we find Raymond Trace here and the Loftus boys." "But surely Mr. Henry did it for the best?" "He intended it for the best, no doubt, but it has not turned out so for George. What I think is this—that Mr. Henry, knowing past circumstances and the cloud they cast upon us, might have made some inquiries as to who the scholars were at Orville College, before he brought George to it, and put me to the expense and trouble and pain of coming here." The exceeding injustice of the reasoning—nay, the ingratitude—brought to Emma Brabazon a deeper conviction of the innate selfishness of Mrs. Paradyne. She supposed that her great misfortunes had hardened her; and the saying, so keen and true, arose to her mind,—"Adversity hardens the heart, or it opens it to Paradise." "You knew Mr. Henry well in Germany, I believe? He was professor in the college where your son was a scholar?" "Yes, he was," replied Mrs. Paradyne. Miss Brabazon took her leave, and went away, a dim idea resting on her that she had seen Mrs. Paradyne before; or some one resembling her. Ever and anon, during the interview, an expression had dawned over her countenance that seemed strangely familiar. "But it was only when her face looked pleasant that the idea arose," thought Emma Brabazon, as she turned into the avenue and crossed the lawn leading to Mrs. Gall's. Miss Rose was making herself at home, and had her things off. "I'm going to stay tea, Emma," was her salutation to her sister. "You can go home without me." It was her way. She did not say, "May I stay?" but took will and decision into her own hands. In great things Emma quietly corrected her; in trifles Rose was yielded to. Emma looked at Mrs. Gall, a slight, thin, kind little woman, with a sharp red nose. "Do let her stay, Miss Brabazon. William is coming home to go out to dinner with his papa, and the children and governess are to have a pleasant hour with me. See how anxious Jessie is that you should say yes."