Fifteen minutes later and Mrs. Walter Scott came in, habited in white, with puffs and tucks and rich embroidery wherever there was a place for it, and on her head a jaunty little morning cap of the softest Valenciennes, with a bit of lavender ribbon to relieve it. She was not all smiles and tenderness now, and there was about her a studied politeness wholly different from her old caressing manner toward Magdalen. “Sarah tells me you are better this morning, and you do look greatly improved,” she said, standing back a little from the bed and feigning not to see the hand which Magdalen held toward her. Magdalen felt the change in a moment and understood the cause. Mrs. Irving was now the undisputed mistress of Millbank, and she the poor dependant, left there on the lady’s hands, a burden and a drag whom nobody wanted. That was the way Magdalen put it, and her tears fell like rain as she replied, “Yes, I am better, but I,—I—don’t understand it at all, or why I should be left here alone; why didn’t they take me with them?” “I suppose because you were too sick to be moved, though I knew but little about their movements. Mrs. Floyd was so very rude and ill-bred that I kept out of her way as much as possible, and as Roger avoided me, I saw but little of them. It is not worth while to distress yourself unnecessarily,” the cruel woman went on as she saw how Magdalen cried. “We have taken every possible care of you and shall continue to do so until you are well, when, if you, wish to join your friends in Schodick, we will provide the means for you to do so.” Nothing could be cooler than her tone and manner and words, and but for her face, which there was no mistaking, Magdalen would have doubted her identity with the oily-tongued woman who used to caress and pet her so much, and to whom at one time she had paid a kind of child-worship. But it _was_ the same woman, and she stood a moment longer, looking coldly at Magdalen, and picking a dried leaf or two from the vase of flowers on the stand; then consulting her watch she said, “You must excuse me now, as I have an engagement at ten. Sarah will see that you have everything you want. You will find her an excellent nurse. I chose her myself from a dozen applicants for the place. I’ll see you again by and by. I wish you good-morning.” For a few moments Magdalen lay like one stunned; then, as she began to reason upon the matter and to understand it more clearly, her pride came to her aid; and when at last Sarah went back to her, she found her with flushed cheeks and a resolute, determined look in her eyes, which flashed and sparkled with much of their former fire.