she knew of.  Dr. Richards was a stranger to her, for she guessed this was the doctor, ’Lina’s betrothed, scrutinizing him closely, and wondering if the man retained the look of the boy.  And as she gazed, the features seemed to grow familiar.  Surely she had met a face like this, but where she could not guess, and turning from him she inspected the rest of the room, wondering if Alice Johnson were ever in this room.

With thoughts of Alice came memories of Spring Bank, and the wish that they knew all this.  How thankful they would be, and how thankful she was for this resting place in the protection of sweet Anna Richards.  It was better than she had even dared to hope for, and sinking down by the snowy-covered bed, she murmured inaudibly the prayer of thanksgiving she felt compelled to make to Him who had led her to Terrace Hill.  It was thus that Pamelia found her when she came up again, and it did much to establish the profound respect she ever manifested toward the new waiting maid, Rose Markham.

“Your lunch will be here directly,” she said to Adah, who little dreamed of the parley which had taken place between Asenath and Dixson, the cook, concerning this same lunch.

Asenath was too proud to discuss the matter with a servant, but when she saw the slices of cold chicken which Dixson was deliberately cutting up, and the little pot of jelly which Pamelia placed upon the salver, she forgot her dignity, and angrily demanded what they were doing.

“Miss Anna ordered lunch, and I’m a-gettin’ it,” was Dixson’s reply.

“Yes, but such a lunch for a waiting woman; and going to send it up.  I’d like to know if she’s too big a lady to come into the kitchen,” and Asenath’s sharp shoulders jerked savagely.

“I must say, I think you very foolish indeed, to take a person about whom you know nothing,” she said to Anna, as soon as she saw her, but stopped short as Willie ran out from the adjoining room and stood looking at her.

As well as she was capable of doing, Asenath had loved her brother John when a baby; and when he became a prattling active child, like the one standing before her, she had almost worshiped him, thinking there was never a face so pretty or manner so engaging as his.  There had come no baby after him, and she remembered him so well, starting now with surprise as she saw reflected in Willie’s face the look she never had forgotten.

“Who is he, Anna?  Not her child, the waiting woman’s, surely.”

“Hush—­sh,” came warningly from Anna, as she glanced toward the open door, and that brought Asenath back from her dream of the past.

It was the waiting woman’s child.  There was no look like John now.  She had been mistaken, and rather rudely pushing him away, she said:  “I think you might have consulted us, at least.  What are we to do with a child in this house?  Here, here, young man,” and Asenath started forward just in time to frighten Willie and make him drop and break the goblet he was trying to reach from the stand, “to dink,” as he said.