Strange as it may appear, the more Frederic admired the mind and person of his young pupil, the more reserved his manner grew. Beautiful, accomplished, and heir to a large fortune, he could scarcely admit the possibility of winning her to be the wife of a poor country clergyman. And yet sometimes in the retirement of his own chamber, a recollection of what he saw in her eyes when he asked her to forgive him, like a flash of electricity, sent hope surging through all his being. He was ready now to confess to himself that his love for the young English girl was tame and without vitality, compared with the emotions which at present filled his breast. Yet his resolution was strong, never to allow Helen to become aware of his attachment. Sometimes, however, when her recitations had been uncommonly good, and she turned her beaming eyes upon him, wondering he did not praise her, it required all his strength of purpose to restrain his lips from expressing what was in his heart. Meanwhile, Sybil sat knitting row after row upon the socks she was forming for her poor protégés in the parish; and wove castle after castle in regard to the future of those before her. "It's all sheer stuff and nonsense," was her silent soliloquy, "to prove that one letter of the alphabet is as good or better than another. They're all good enough in their way; and it's a mark of childishness I didn't expect of Fred to be spending so much time about such trifles. But it will do as well as anything else to bring them together; and that's the main point at present." But Sybil loved her brother's pupil too well not to strive to interest her in duties more important than the comparative value of A, B and C. She related the histories of her poor people, and often invited the young girl to accompany her in her visits. She encouraged her to aid those who were really needy, but reminded her that it was a better form of charity to teach the poor to help themselves. Near Woodbine Cottage, Helen and her brother had their own protégés, whom, even when absent, they had always supported in part. One of these, the bedridden woman, had some months before received her welcome summons, and had gone home to her rest. But there were others who looked to the children of their loved benefactor at Woodbine Cottage for aid, and who expected the young lady to make them frequent calls. Thus busy in her studies, her domestic duties and her charities, the autumn was passing quietly and usefully away, when some events occurred which greatly changed the current of her thoughts. On the outskirts of the village of Maytown and about three miles from the church near the centre, a large stocking factory had been erected, which led in the course of a few years to the building of a dozen or more small, cheap houses in the vicinity, for the families of the working people.