Glancing at her own face as she passed a mirror, she halted to look at the change that trouble had made in it. Others might not notice it, but to herself it was very perceptible. The beautiful features were thinner than of yore, the cheeks bore a fainter rose-colour; her stately form had lost somewhat of its roundness. Ah, it was not her own sorrow that had mostly told upon Mary Castlemaine; it was the sudden death of her father, and the agonizing doubt attending on it. "If I could but know that it was God's will that he should die!" she exclaimed, raising her hands in an attitude of supplication. "And there's that other dreadful trouble--that awful doubt--about poor Anthony!" Descending the stairs, she opened the door of the red parlour, and entered on a scene of turbulence. Miss Flora was in one of her most spiteful and provoking humours. She was trying to kick Ethel, who held her at arms' length. Her pretty face was inflamed, her pretty hair hung wild--and Flora's face and hair were both as pretty as they could well be. "Flora!" said Miss Castlemaine, advancing to the rescue. "Flora, for shame! Unless I had seen you in this passion, I had not believed it." "I will kick her, then! It's through her I did not go with mamma in the carriage to Stilborough ." "It was mamma who would not take you," said Ethel. "She said she had some private business there, and did not want you with her." "She would have taken me: you know she would; but for your telling her I had not done my French exercise, you ugly, spiteful thing." "Mamma asked me whether you had done it, and I said no." "And you ought to have said yes! You ill-natured, wicked, interfering dromedary!" "Be still, Flora," interposed Miss Castlemaine. "Unless you are, I will call your papa. How can you so forget yourself?" "You have no business to interfere, Mary Ursula! The house is not yours; you are only staying in it." "True," said Miss Castlemaine, calmly. "And I shall not be very much longer in it, Flora. I am going away soon." "I shall be glad of that," retorted the rude child; "and I am sure mamma will be. She says it is a shame that you should be let take up the best bedroom." "Oh, Flora!" interposed Ethel. "And she says----" What further revelations the damsel might be contemplating, in regard to her mother, were summarily cut short. Harry Castlemaine had entered in time to hear what she was saying, and he quietly lifted her from the room. Outside, he treated her to what she dreaded, though it was not often she got it from him--a severe shaking--and she ran away howling. "She is being ruined," said Harry. "Mrs. Castlemaine never corrects her, or allows her to be corrected. I wish my father would take it seriously in hand! She ought to be at school." Peace restored, Mary told them what she had just been telling Mr. Castlemaine. She was about to become a Grey Sister. Harry laughed: he did not believe a syllable of it; Ethel, more clear-sighted, burst into tears.