"She gives me stones instead of bread," she said once to her only confidante. "What do I owe her, Cathy? Has she ever a kind word or look for us? is she ever otherwise than hard on Emmie? It makes me miserable to see Emmie; she is pining like a bird in a cage. Sometimes I think I would rather live with Emmie in a garret, and take in plain needle-work. We could talk to each other then, and I could tell her stories, and make her laugh; she never laughs now, Cathy." "Hush, Queenie; you are so impetuous. I have a plan in my head, a dear, delightful plan. We shall see, we shall see." CHAPTER II. GRANITE LODGE. "O shun, my friend, avoid that dangerous coast, Where peace expires and fair affection's lost; By wit, by grief, by anger urged, forbear The speech contemptuous and the scornful air." _Dr. John Langharne._ How Queenie became the under teacher at Miss Titheridge's must be told here shortly. Queenie was only seventeen when her father died, but she had already formed her own plans of independence. The repressive atmosphere of a companion's or governess's existence was peculiarly repugnant to her taste. Teaching was indeed her forte. She had plenty of patience and industry; her love of children was deep and inherent; but she felt that she must seek another channel, where she could work off superfluous energy and attain independence. She would be a national school-mistress. Aided by a friend, of whom we must speak anon, Queenie so far carried out her determination that she spent the next two years at a training college at Durham, and had just obtained a second class certificate when new difficulties intervened. The old nurse with whom she had placed Emmie died; the little stock of money which had been collected for the orphans by sympathizing friends was diminishing daily. Where could she find a home for Emmie? It was at this juncture that Miss Titheridge, who knew the Marriotts of old, and who was just now in sore need of an under governess, stepped in with a magnanimous offer. Miss Marriott should give her services in return for Emmie's board and education. Queenie had hours of secret fretting before she could make up her mind to relinquish her cherished independence. Miss Titheridge was personally odious to her. The decorous rules and monotony of the life would oppress and weigh upon her. Still beggars must not be choosers, as her old friend Caleb Runciman often said; and it was for Emmie's sake. Oh, if Miss Titheridge would only be kind to Emmie, how she would work for her, how she would show her gratitude!