her friend and playfellow, who made learning easy with a smile and a kiss.  The balance of authority was regulated to perfection in the lives of these two simple creatures.  In the schoolroom, the governess taught the child.  Out of the schoolroom, the child taught the governess.  Division of labor was a principle in perfect working order at Mount Morven—­and nobody suspected it!  But, as the weeks followed each other, one more remarkable circumstance presented itself which every person in the household was equally quick to observe.  The sad Sydney Westerfield whom they all pitied had now become the pretty Sydney Westerfield whom they all admired.  It was not merely a change—­it was a transformation.  Kitty stole the hand-glass from her mother’s room, and insisted that her governess should take it and look at herself.  “Papa says you’re as plump as a partridge; and mamma says you’re as fresh as a rose; and Uncle Randal wags his head, and tells them he saw it from the first.  I heard it all when they thought I was playing with my doll—­and I want to know, you best of nice girls, what you think of your own self?”

“I think, my dear, it’s time we went on with our lessons.”

“Wait a little, Syd; I have something else to say.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about papa.  He goes out walking with us—­doesn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t go out walking with me—­before you came here.  I’ve been thinking about it; and I’m sure papa likes you.  What are you looking in the drawer for?”

“For your lesson books, dear.”

“Yes—­but I haven’t quite done yet.  Papa talks a good deal to you, and you don’t talk much to papa.  Don’t you like him?”

“Oh, Kitty!”

“Then do you like him?”

“How can I help liking him?  I owe all my happiness to your papa.”

“Do you like him better than mamma?”

“I should be very ungrateful, if I liked anybody better than your mamma.”

Kitty considered a little, and shook her head.  “I don’t understand that,” she declared roundly.  “What do you mean?”

Sydney cleaned the pupil’s slate, and set the pupil’s sum—­and said nothing.

Kitty placed a suspicious construction of her own on her governess’s sudden silence.  “Perhaps you don’t like my wanting to know so many things,” she suggested.  “Or perhaps you meant to puzzle me?”

Sydney sighed, and answered, “I’m puzzled myself.”

Chapter VII.

Sydney Suffers.

In the autumn holiday-time friends in the south, who happened to be visiting Scotland, were invited to stop at Mount Morven on their way to the Highlands; and were accustomed to meet the neighbors of the Linleys at dinner on their arrival.  The time for this yearly festival had now come round again; the guests were in the house; and Mr. and Mrs. Linley were occupied in making their arrangements for the dinner-party.  With her unfailing consideration for every one about her, Mrs. Linley did not forget Sydney while she was sending out her cards of invitation.  “Our table will be full at dinner,” she said to her husband; “Miss Westerfield had better join us in the evening with Kitty.”