"Mamsie doesn't like you, but I do, Lettice." Theodosia's wrath was filled to the brim. She strode back, said scornfully—"You are mistaken! I do mean it—" snatched the boy's hand, and pulled him, struggling, from the room. Lettice sat confounded. She literally did not know what to do or what to think of this display: since she had never before had to do with an unrestrainedly bad temper. She dreaded greatly the moment of their next encounter; but when it came, Theodosia had reverted to her former cold and careless manner. Lettice found this to be a usual course of events. Theodosia's outbreaks of ill-humour were frequent, and she seemed to consider that a return to her ordinary manner was sufficient apology; if, indeed, she ever counted an apology called for. All the world might be in the wrong sooner than Theodosia herself: and if she knew what it was to regret her own words, she would not acknowledge the fact. Lettice suffered keenly from constant association with a temper of utter uncertainty. There could be no repose in her intercourse with Theodosia. However agreeable the mood of the latter might be at any given moment, nobody could predict that she might not flame into anger before five minutes were over; and the incessant dread of possible cyclones weighed upon Lettice like a millstone. She could never be at ease in Mrs. Bryant's presence. The manner of her life at Quarrington Cottage was not long in declaring itself. On second thoughts, Theodosia gave in to her husband's wishes about the bedroom for Lettice, yielding for that purpose the extra "useful room," which under Dr. Bryant's superintendence was nicely prepared and furnished. But she could not forgive Lettice for having been the innocent cause of this defeat; and she showed a ceaseless jealousy of Dr. Bryant's kind interest in the girl. Not for her husband's sake, but for Keith's sake. Theodosia never lost sight of the fact that some of his money might be diverted from herself and the boy by this "interloper," as she privately called Lettice. Lettice saw and felt the jealousy without fathoming the motive which lay below. Had it not been for that motive, Lettice might perhaps in time have overcome Theodosia's dislike. Only "perhaps:" for another hindrance soon arose, in the shape of Keith's growing affection for Lettice. That Lettice should play with Keith, amuse him, wait upon him, slave for him, was merely what Theodosia expected, as a matter of course. But that Keith should give Lettice his little heart in return, Theodosia did not expect. The one devotion of her heart was for this boy, and anybody who could win any portion of his love, or who would stand in the way of his interests, became abhorrent to her. She was a complete slave to impulse: and Lettice's gentleness failed to conquer.