While we were pursuing our usual walk to-day, we met Miss Saville. She was going to Cottisbourne, and went on with us, talking of her schemes of "usefulness." I had given up the visitor's uniform myself after a second trial, and had contented myself with sending money by the hands of Alice to Mary and Granny, and several other pensioners, whom, however, in my languor and listlessness, I never cared to visit myself. But I was surprised to find how much more easily Flora suited herself to Miss Saville, and even to the Rector, than I could do. She was deep in all their plans and purposes--she was continually asking advice about her own schemes at home from one or other of them. Their peculiarity of manners seemed scarcely at all to strike Flora. She said they were very good people--very active people--she was quite sure they would do a great deal for the village. I assented, because I did not care to oppose her; but I--poor vain fool that I was!--thought their benevolences trifling, and unworthy of me, who could find no excuse here for heroic deeds or martyrdom. Miss Saville looked strangely annoyed and anxious to-day. I saw her brow contract at every bend of the road, and she cast searching glances about her, as if looking for somebody, and was not, I think, very well pleased to have encountered us. Sometimes she started, and turned to look back, and asked, "Did you hear anything?" as though some one was calling her. If Flora had observed her perturbation, I have no doubt we should have left her, for Flora's delicate regard for others never failed, when it was exerted, to influence me; but Flora was not so quick of sight as I was, nor so learned in the signs of discomfort, and my mind was so indolent and languid, that I should have gone on quietly in any circumstances, and would not willingly undertake the exertion of changing my course for any cause. So we continued our way, and as we proceeded, Miss Saville told me that old Sally had changed her mind, and that she and a few others were quite ready to become inmates of her asylum now. "But you--you surely would never condemn yourself to keep house with that miserable old woman!" said I, with a shudder. "You will think I am capricious for changing my mind, but indeed I did not think what a penalty it was. Pray don't think of it, Miss Saville. Let me give her something every week to support her at home."