of any other governess, and yet to smile! After a long interval of silence, and when Janet began to wonder with some alarm how she would meet a long strain of passive resistance had Julia strength of mind to keep it up, a sudden voice once more made itself heard. “Miss Summerhayes! the first thing I shall do when I get out of this will be to tell mamma.” “That is exactly what I should recommend,” said Janet, looking up from her writing; “one’s mother should always know everything,” and with a little friendly nod she returned to her letter. Julia could not tell what to think: there was more in it than her puzzled understanding had ever encountered before. After a while she said, with some hesitation, “Miss Summerhayes!” again. “Yes,” said Janet, looking up once more. “What did you mean about conversation? I hate you! I shall never speak to you three words if I can help it; but what did you mean about putting off the conversation? I want to know----” “Perhaps it will be better to put it off till to-morrow.” “I want to have it now. Conversation! as if there ever could be any between you and me.” “That is what I have just said. It will be better to put it off,” said Janet, without raising her head, turning over the page of her supposed letter. The next thing she heard was a stamp on the floor, suppressed so that it was scarcely a stamp, and an exclamation, “I prefer to have it now.” “I cannot talk to anyone so far off,” said Janet, and there was another pause. Presently she could hear the faint rustling of a person about to get up from a chair, which went on for some time, there being an evident and great reluctance to move. Then there was a sudden plunge. Julia alighted opposite her, on the other side of the table. “I want to know what it is---- I want to know what you want with me.” Janet sat up, raised her head, putting down her pen. “Honestly, and without any more preliminaries?” she said. Julia’s eyes gave a single dart of fire. “No one ever said I was a thief. I want to know what you want with me.” “That is what I call honestly,” Janet replied, and she put away her writing things for the second encounter, the first having thus been successful beyond her hopes. CHAPTER VII.