“You have given me the print for two dresses,” she answered, with ready tact, “the cost of which, with us in England, would be four pence a yard. I have nearly made them myself, but you can deduct whatever you see fit, and I will attend to my own wardrobe in the future. If I do Maggie Flynn’s work, I must have Maggie Flynn’s pay and privileges,” she concluded, decidedly. “You will have nothing of the kind”—Mrs. Richards was fairly hoarse with anger. “You forget that your father has consigned you to my guardianship for the next few years, and you will do exactly as I direct you. But we have wasted time enough in this kind of talk. You are to come with me now; I will set you to work, and see if we cannot take down some of this English impudence.” Star followed the woman as she was bidden, without a word, thinking it best to discuss the question no further just then; but there was, nevertheless, a determined gleam in her glorious eyes; her form was as erect and proud, her step as firm as if she felt herself in every respect the equal of the woman who appeared bound to oppress her. All day long she was kept steadily at work; not a moment was she allowed to rest, except while she was eating. She made beds, swept and dusted rooms, and ran upon errands, until every bone in her slight body ached with weariness and her small feet were nearly blistered. Her delicate hands had never performed such menial duties before, nor had her gentle heart ever throbbed with such revengeful, rebellious feelings. It was eight o’clock before her hard mistress released her from her labors, and told her to go directly to bed, so as to be up early in the morning and sweep off the front steps before people should begin to pass. She went to her room as directed, but instead of retiring, she took from a drawer of her bureau one of the packages of papers which she had rescued from her state-room on that burning vessel, and, weary as she was, she again descended two flights of stairs, and approaching the library door, tapped gently upon it. A deep, manly voice bade her come in, and she entered with a firm and decided tread. Mr. Richards was sitting at his desk, engaged in answering some business letters. Star had timed her visit to him, for she had watched and seen him go into the library after tea was over. He looked up as she closed the door behind her, and his face relaxed into a kind smile as he saw who it was. The girl had interested him in the morning by her beauty, grace, and intelligence, but he had been so busy during the day that he had scarcely thought of her since. He did inquire for her at dinner, but there was company present, and his wife made some evasive reply. If the truth could have been known, she was rather reluctant to inform him what her intentions were regarding the young stranger. “Do I interrupt you, sir?” Star asked, modestly, but without advancing beyond the threshold.