"Good afternoon," repeated Miss Hallet. "Should Jane return in time, if she happens to have finished one of the handkerchiefs, she shall bring it up." The young woman turned away with a brisk step, but not at the speed Walter Dance had used. By-and-by, quite an hour later, Jane Hallet came in. A slender, ladylike, nice-looking girl of nineteen; with a fair, soft, gentle face, mild blue eyes, hair light and bright, and almost child-like features. Jane's good looks, of which she was no doubt conscious, and Jane's propensity to dress too much were a source of continual vexation to Miss Hallet: so to say, a stumbling-block in her path. Jane wore a dark blue merino dress, a very pretty grey cloak, with a hood and tassels, and a straw bonnet trimmed with blue. Miss Hallet groaned. "And you must walk off in all those best things to-day, Jane! Just to go to the wool shop at Stilborough! I wonder what will become of you!" "It was so fine a day, aunt," came the cheerful, apologetic answer. "I have not hurt them. "You've not done them good. Are any of those handkerchiefs of Mrs. Castlemaine's finished?" resumed the aunt, after a pause. "One is." "Then you must go up at once with it to Greylands' Rest. Don't take your cloak off--unless, indeed, you'd like to change it for your old one which would be the right thing to do," added Miss Hallet, snappishly. "And your bonnet, too!" Jane stood still for a moment, and something like a cloud passed over her face. She did not particularly care to go to Greylands' Rest. "I am tired with my walk, aunt." "That can't be helped: you must take the handkerchief all the same," said Miss Hallet. And she explained the reason, and that she had promised to send one if it were done. "You will be in time, Jane: it is hardly half-past four. The maid said the family were to start at five." Jane went up to her chamber; a room that she took care to make look as pretty as she could. A chest of drawers stood by the bed. Taking a key from her pocket, she opened the top long drawer, the only one that was locked, and lifted out the paper of handkerchiefs. Half-a-dozen handkerchiefs of the finest and softest cambric, almost like a spider's web, that Mrs. Castlemaine had given to her to hem-stitch. Any little job of this kind Jane Hallet was glad to undertake. The money helped to buy her clothes. Otherwise she was entirely dependent upon her aunt. The Grey Ladies had taught her all kinds of fine needlework. When she had none of that to do--and she did not have it often--she filled up her leisure time in knitting lambs' wool socks for a shop at Stilborough. There was no necessity for her to do this, and Miss Hallet did not cordially approve of it; but it gave Jane a feeling of independency. Snatching a moment to look into the glass and put her hair in order, Jane went down with the handkerchief, neatly folded in thin white paper. All the girls instincts were nice: she was in fact too much of a lady for her position.