Lenora had spoken truthfully when she said that she had not been trained by such a mother for nothing, for whatever of evil appeared in her conduct was more the result of her mother’s training than of a naturally bad disposition.  At times her mother petted and caressed her, and again, in a fit of ill-humor, drove her from the room, taunting her with the strong resemblance which she bore to the man whom she had once called father!  On such occasions Lenora was never at a loss for words, and the scenes which sometimes occurred were too disgraceful for repetition.  On one subject, however, they were united, and that was in their efforts to become inmates of the homestead on the hillside.  In the accomplishment of this Lenora had a threefold object:  first, it would secure her a luxuriant home; second, she would be thrown in the way of Walter Hamilton, who was about finishing his college course; and last, though not least, it would be such a triumph over Margaret, who, she fancied, treated her with cold indifference.

Long after the hour of midnight was rung from the village clock, the widow and her daughter sat by their fireside, forming plans for the future, and when at last they retired to sleep it was to dream of funeral processions, bridal favors, stepchildren, half-sisters, and double connections all around.

CHAPTER III.

One step toward the homestead.

Weeks passed on, and so necessary to the comfort of the invalid did the presence of Mrs. Carter become, that at last, by particular request, she took up her abode at the homestead, becoming Mrs. Hamilton’s constant nurse and attendant.  Lenora, for the time being, was sent to the house of a friend, who lived not far distant.  When Margaret Hamilton learned of the arrangement she opposed it with all her force.

“Send her away, mother,” said she one evening; “please send her away, for I cannot endure her presence, with her oily words and silent footsteps.  She reminds me of the serpent, who decoyed Eve into eating that apple, and I always feel an attack of the nightmare whenever I know that her big, black eyes are fastened upon me.”

“How differently people see!” laughed Carrie, who was sitting by.  “Why, Mag, I always fancy her to be in a nightmare when your big eyes light upon her.”

“It’s because she knows she’s guilty,” answered Mag, her words and manner warming up with the subject.  “Say, mother, won’t you send her off!  It seems as though a dark shadow falls upon us all the moment she eaters the house.”

“She is too invaluable a nurse to be discharged for a slight whim,” answered Mrs. Hamilton.  “Besides she bears the best of reputations, and I don’t see what possible harm can come of her being here.”