“Is he spoiled by his elevation?” “Your father thinks him haughtier than he used to be; but many say that he is exactly what he always was. Mrs. Nelligan comes up frequently to the cottage now, and dines with Miss Martin. I 'm sure I don't know how my Lady would like to see her there.” “She is not very likely,” said Kate, dryly. “Why not?” “I mean, that nothing is less probable than Lady Dorothea's return here.” “I suppose not!” half sighed Mrs. Henderson, for hers was one of those sorrowful temperaments that extract only the bitter from the cup of life. In reality, she had little reason to wish for Lady Dorothea's presence, but still she could make a “very good grievance” out of her absence, and find it a fitting theme for regret. “What reason do you mean to give for your coming home, Kate, if he should ask you?” inquired she, after a pause. “That I felt dissatisfied with my place,” replied Kate, coldly. “And we were always saying what a piece of good luck it was for you to be there! Miss Mary told Mrs. Nelligan--it was only the other day--that her uncle could n't live without you,--that you nursed him, and read to him, and what not; and as to her Ladyship, that she never took a drive in the carriage, or answered a note, without asking your advice first.” “What a profound impression Miss Martin must have received of my talents for intrigue!” said Kate, sneeringly. “I believe not. I think she said something very kind and good-natured, just as if it was only people who had really very great gifts that could condescend to make themselves subservient without humiliation. I know she said 'without humiliation,' because your father laughed when he heard of it, and remarked, 'If it's Kate's humility they like, they are assuredly thankful for small mercies!” “I should like to go over and see Miss Martin. What distance is it from this to the cottage?” “It's full three miles; but it's all through the demesne.” “I'm a good walker, and I'll go,” said she, rising. “But first, might I ask for a little refreshment,--a cup of tea? Oh, I forgot,” added she, smiling, “tea is one of the forbidden luxuries here.” “No; but your father doesn't like to see it in the daytime. If you'd take it in your own room--” “Of course, and be most thankful. Am I to have the little room with the green paper, where I used to be, long ago?” “Well, indeed, I can scarcely tell. The bed was taken down last autumn; and as we never thought of your coming home--” “Home!” sighed Kate, involuntarily. “But come into my room, and I 'll fetch you a cup of tea directly.” “No, no; it is better not to risk offending him,” said Kate, calmly. “I remember, now, that this was one of his antipathies. Give me anything else, for I have not eaten to-day.”