“And mother minds what Phyllis thinks a great deal more than she minds me; because Phyllis is so wise, and never gives her any trouble.”

The next morning at breakfast Reine said: 

“Do you know, Mr. Enderby, little Miss Gray has made me such a beautiful drawing.  She has a great talent.  I can’t help wishing you would let her be an artist.”

“Has she been enlisting you against me?” said Mr. Enderby, with half a smile and half a frown.

“I have never even seen her,” said Reine; “but I am greatly struck with her work.”

“It is clever,” assented the master of Wavertree; “but pray do not arouse foolish ideas in the child’s head—­ideas which have been fortunately laid to rest.  I have great faith in the old warning, ’Beware of the man of one book’; and I think Hetty will do better to stick to what she has begun with.  Under Miss Davis she has excellent opportunities of becoming fitted to be a governess, which, after all, is the safest career for a friendless woman.  She lives in a respectable home and is saved from many dangers.  I do not hold with the new-fangled notion of letting girls run about the world picking up professions.”

And then Mr. Enderby deliberately changed the conversation.

However, Reine could not forget the little artist; and that evening, being dressed for dinner rather early, she suddenly bethought her of making her way uninvited to the school-room.

“I really must see her and thank her,” she reflected; “and I will ask pardon of Mrs. Enderby afterwards for the liberty.”  And then she set out to look for the school-room.

It happened that Hetty was sitting all alone at the school-room table; her chin in her hand, her eyes fixed on the pages of a book.  A window behind her, framing golden sky and deep-coloured foliage, made her the foreground figure of a striking picture.  Her dark head and flowing hair, her pale but richly-tinted face with its thoughtful brow and intelligent mouth, her little warm brown hand and wrist were all softly and distinctly defined against the glories of the distance.  As Reine opened the door and came in, Hetty looked up as much startled as if an angel had come to visit her.

Reine was dressed all in white shimmering silk, which enhanced the beauty of her bright brunette face.  Her soft luminous eyes beamed on Hetty as she advanced to her with outstretched hands.

“I came to see you and thank you,” she began; “I am Reine Gaythorne and—­”

Suddenly, as Hetty sprang to her feet and came forward smiling and facing the light, Reine’s little speech died on her tongue, and a sharp cry broke from her.

“My mother!” she exclaimed in a tone of deep feeling, and stood gazing at Hetty as if a ghost had risen up before her.

Hetty retreated a step, and the two girls stood gazing at each other.  Miss Gaythorne recovered herself quickly, but her hands and voice were trembling as she took Hetty’s fingers in her own.