had grown up lately, in a kind of unexpected manner, into a young woman, Miss Galindo might have kept her at school for a year longer, if she could have afforded it; but this was impossible when she became Mr. Horner’s clerk, and relinquished all the payment of her repository work; and perhaps, after all, she was not sorry to be compelled to take the step she was longing for.  At any rate, Bessy came to live with Miss Galindo, in a very few weeks from the time when Captain James set Miss Galindo free to superintend her own domestic economy again.

For a long time, I knew nothing about this new inhabitant of Hanbury.  My lady never mentioned her in any way.  This was in accordance with Lady Ludlow’s well-known principles.  She neither saw nor heard, nor was in any way cognisant of the existence of those who had no legal right to exist at all.  If Miss Galindo had hoped to have an exception made in Bessy’s favour, she was mistaken.  My lady sent a note inviting Miss Galindo herself to tea one evening, about a month after Bessy came; but Miss Galindo “had a cold and could not come.”  The next time she was invited, she “had an engagement at home”—­a step nearer to the absolute truth.  And the third time, she “had a young friend staying with her whom she was unable to leave.”  My lady accepted every excuse as bona fide, and took no further notice.  I missed Miss Galindo very much; we all did; for, in the days when she was clerk, she was sure to come in and find the opportunity of saying something amusing to some of us before she went away.  And I, as an invalid, or perhaps from natural tendency, was particularly fond of little bits of village gossip.  There was no Mr. Horner—­he even had come in, now and then, with formal, stately pieces of intelligence—­and there was no Miss Galindo in these days.  I missed her much.  And so did my lady, I am sure.  Behind all her quiet, sedate manner, I am certain her heart ached sometimes for a few words from Miss Galindo, who seemed to have absented herself altogether from the Hall now Bessy was come.

Captain James might be very sensible, and all that; but not even my lady could call him a substitute for the old familiar friends.  He was a thorough sailor, as sailors were in those days—­swore a good deal, drank a good deal (without its ever affecting him in the least), and was very prompt and kind-hearted in all his actions; but he was not accustomed to women, as my lady once said, and would judge in all things for himself.  My lady had expected, I think, to find some one who would take his notions on the management of her estate from her ladyship’s own self; but he spoke as if he were responsible for the good management of the whole, and must, consequently, be allowed full liberty of action.  He had been too long in command over men at sea to like to be directed by a woman in anything he undertook, even though that woman was my lady.  I suppose this was the common-sense my lady spoke of; but when common-sense goes against us, I don’t think we value it quite so much as we ought to do.