“You poor child!  Well, there is no reason why you should ever leave this haven again.  My granddaughter needs just such a bright companion as you are sure to be.  And who so fitting a one as her first young governess?”

“Oh, sir, you are so good to me!  May heaven reward you!  But Mrs. Rothsay?” she said, with an appealing glance toward Cora.

“I do not need a companion; if I did, I should advertise for one.  The position of companion is also a half menial one, which I should never associate with the name of Mrs. Stillwater, who is our guest,” replied Cora, with cold politeness.

“You see, my dear ex-pupil will not let me serve her in any capacity,” said Rose, with a piteous glance toward the Iron King.

“You have both misunderstood me,” he answered, with a severe glance toward his granddaughter, “I never thought of you as a companion to Mrs. Rothsay, in the professional sense of that word, but in the sense in which daughters of the same house are companions to each other.”

“I should not shrink from any service to my dear Cora,” said Rose Stillwater, and she was about to add—­“nor to you, sir,” but she thought it best not to say it, and refrained.

When breakfast was over, and the Rockhold carriage was at the door to convey the Iron King to North End, the old autocrat arose from the table and strode into the hall, calling for his valet to come and help him on with his light overcoat.

“Let me! let me!  Oh, do please let me?” exclaimed Rose, jumping up and following him.  “Do you remember the last time I put on your overcoat?  It was on that morning in Baltimore, years ago, when we parted at the Monument House; you to go to the depot to take the cars for this place, I to remain in the city to await the arrival of my husband’s ship?  Nine years ago!  There, now!  Have I not done it as well as your valet could?” she prattled, as she deftly assisted him.

“Better, my child, much better!  You are not rough; your hands are dainty as well as strong.  Thank you, child,” said Mr. Rockharrt, settling himself with a jerk or two into his spring overcoat.

“Oh, do let me perform these little services for you always!  It will make me feel so happy!”

“But it will give you trouble.”

“Oh, indeed, no! not the least!  It will give me only pleasure.”

“You are a very good child, but I will not tax you.  Good morning!  I must be off,” said Mr. Rockharrt, shaking hands with Rose, and then hurrying out to get into his carriage.

Rose stood in the door looking after him, until the brougham rolled away out of sight.

At luncheon Rose Stillwater seemed so determined to be pleasant that it was next to impossible for Cora Rothsay to keep up the formal demeanor she had laid out for herself.

“It is very lonely for you here, my dear.  How soon does your grandfather usually return?  I know he must have been later than usual last night, because he had to go to the depot to meet me,” Rose said.