I answered her gratefully, as I felt; but as I opened the case which held my mother's jewels, the same case which my father had given me in Cambridge, and which I had always carried about with me since my eye fell upon Mr. Osborne's present, the little chain with my mother's miniature, my heart was softened; I was a mother myself, and knew now the love above all loves which a mother bears to her child, and I was terribly shaken on my own original standing-ground, and at the bottom of my heart knew myself bitterly, cruelly wrong. My father, it was possible to fancy, might have been even more wrong than I was; and Flora's sweet face, like hers, yet wanting something of the perfect repose and sweetness which this little picture showed, was the last touch that softened me. When I put my mother's diamond ornament on Flora's neck, I clasped the miniature on my own. With my plain dress and total want of ornament--for I had not even a ring except my wedding-ring--the simple little chain and the circle of pearls round the miniature, made a great show. Flora came eagerly to look at it, I had never shown it to her before; she thought it so beautiful--so sweet--she never could be so vain as to let any one say she was like my mother after seeing that. And then we returned downstairs to the early homely dinner which Alice had been at considerable trouble with. Alice was much disturbed and humbled by the invasion of these visitors; she did not like the idea of any one finding us in our new circumstances, and Flora's maid was a great affliction to Alice. "She could have borne the young lady," she said, "but all the servants at Ennerdale and all the servants at Cottiswoode, everybody would know that Mrs. Southcote kept no nurse for her baby, and lived in a house of four apartments, and waited on herself." It was very galling to Alice, but she forgot it in the secret glow of delight with which she observed the miniature I wore. Flora did not leave me till it was quite evening, and even then not without another petition that I would "ask Mamma" to let her come for a longer visit. It was a great piece of self-denial, but I steadily resisted her entreaties. I knew Mrs. Ennerdale--a placid, unawakened woman, who knew nothing of me nor of my struggles--could have no sympathy for me, and I rather would want the solace of Flora's company than expose her to her mother's disapprobation. I had voluntarily left my husband and my own house, perhaps with no sufficient cause, and I sternly doomed myself to a recluse's life, and determined to involve no one in any blame that belonged to me.