Esther, meantime, was spending what were perhaps the happiest weeks she had ever known. She went to Mademoiselle Leperier three times a week to sit with her and read to her and do little things she needed done, and in return Mademoiselle gave her lessons and talked to her in French, so that very soon Esther began to feel she was becoming quite proficient in the language. So the visits were a double and a treble joy to her. She loved to be with Mademoiselle in the dear little brown house where all was so quiet and peaceful, and nothing rubbed her the wrong way; or to stroll about the moor together. She loved to learn, and, perhaps best of all, she loved to be of use and feel she was some help. Such pleasant walks they had, and such long talks as they strolled slowly about, or sat in the sunny sweet garden, looking over the great empty space where nature dwelt alone, or in the cosy little parlour, fragrant always with the scent of flowers and the pot-pourri with which the old blue bowls and teapots were filled. One of Esther's self-appointed duties was to keep the vases always fresh and sweet. The days were very full and happy now for Esther. She had quite a number of duties at Moor Cottage, duties that were now left entirely to her, and for which she was held responsible. She worked hard at her studies with Cousin Charlotte, and she was still to some extent 'little mother' to Poppy, so her mind and her time were very much occupied. This perhaps made her a little blind to Penelope's distress, yet poor Penelope's distress was very complete and apparent, for Miss Row had been away for months, and never once in all that time had she sent a word to her little pupil. The truth was she was so absorbed, as was her habit, in the people and things she was amongst that she quite forgot all else. It was Angela who felt most distressed by Penelope's trouble, and most sympathetic; and Angela it was who, on one of her rare visits to Edless, told the tale to Mademoiselle Leperier. "Poor child, poor child," sighed Mademoiselle sympathetically, and asked many questions until she drew from Angela all details, even to what Mr. Somerset had said about her voice. "Ah!" she said. "It ought not to be neglected, it ought not to be neglected. It will soon be too late." She said no more then; but when Angela and Esther were leaving she sent a message to Penelope. "Tell her to come to me to-morrow. We may be able perhaps to do something that will fill up the waiting time." Angela returned home in a high state of joy, which was scarcely damped by Esther's silence during the first part of their walk, or her vexed remark, "I do think you should know better than pour out all the family troubles to Mademoiselle. I wonder you didn't ask her to teach--" but she stopped before she finished what she had been going to say. "You three never go there but what you make me wish you hadn't."