"And make the best of it," Mrs. Mowbray went on kindly; "and make the best of _them_. There is a best side to everybody; it is good to try and get at it. The Bible says 'Overcome evil with good.'" "Can one, always?" said Rotha. "I think one can always--if one has the chance and time. At any rate, it is good to try." "But don't you think, ma'am, one must feel pleasant, before one can act pleasant?" "Feel pleasant, then," said Mrs. Mowbray smiling. "Can't you?" "You do not know how difficult it is," said Rotha. "Perhaps I do. Hearts are alike." "O no, Mrs. Mowbray!" said Rotha in sudden protest. "Not in everything. But fallen nature is fallen nature, my dear; one person's temptations may be different from another's, but in the longing to do our own pleasure and have our own way, we are all pretty much alike. None of us has anything to boast of. What you despise, is the yielding to a temptation which does not attack you." Rotha's look at her friend was intelligent and candid. She said nothing. "And if you can meet hatred with love, it is ten to one you can overcome it. Wouldn't that be a victory worth trying for?" Rotha knew the victory over herself was the first one to be gained. But she silently acquiesced; and after breakfast next morning, with reluctant steps, she set forth to go to her aunt's in Twenty-third Street. She had been in a little doubt how to dress herself. Should she wear her old things? or subject the new ones to her aunt's criticism? But Antoinette had seen the pretty plaid school dress; it would be foolish to make any mystery of it. She dressed herself as usual. Mrs. Busby and her daughter were in the sitting room up stairs. Rotha had knocked, modestly, and as she went in they both lifted up their heads and looked at her, with a long look of survey. Rotha had come quite up to them before her aunt spoke. "Well, Rotha,--so it is you?" "Yes, ma'am." "Have you come to see me at last?" "Yes, ma'am. Mrs. Mowbray said you wished it." "What made you choose to-day particularly?" "Nothing. Mrs. Mowbray said--" "Well, go on. What did Mrs. Mowbray say?" "She said you wanted to have me come, some day, and she thought I had better do it to-day." "Yes. Did she give no reason?" "No. At least--" "At least what?" Rotha had no skill whatever in prevarication, nor understood the art. Nothing occurred to her but to tell the truth. "Mrs. Mowbray said a thing was more graceful that was done promptly." The slightest possible change in the set of Mrs. Busby's lips, the least perceptible air of her head, expressed what another woman might have told by a snort of disdain. Mrs. Busby's manner was quite as striking, Rotha thought. Her own anger was rising fast. "O, and I suppose she is teaching you to do things gracefully?" said Antoinette. "Mamma, the idea!" "It did not occur to her or you that I might like to see my niece occasionally?" said Mrs. Busby.