of her life were such as to catch the imagination of a young romantic girl.  Altogether, Jemima could have kissed her hand and professed herself Ruth’s slave.  She moved away all the articles used at this little coucher; she folded up Leonard’s day-clothes; she felt only too much honoured when Ruth trusted him to her for a few minutes—­only too amply rewarded when Ruth thanked her with a grave, sweet smile, and a grateful look of her loving eyes.

When Jemima had gone away with the servant who was sent to fetch her, there was a little chorus of praise.

“She’s a warm-hearted girl,” said Miss Benson.  “She remembers all the old days before she went to school.  She is worth two of Mr. Richard.  They’re each of them just the same as they were when they were children, when they broke that window in the chapel, and he ran away home, and she came knocking at our door with a single knock, just like a beggar’s, and I went to see who it was, and was quite startled to see her round, brown honest face looking up at me, hall-frightened, and telling me what she had done, and offering me the money in her savings bank to pay for it.  We never should have heard of Master Richard’s share in the business if it had not been for Sally.”

“But remember,” said Mr. Benson, “how strict Mr. Bradshaw has always been with his children.  It is no wonder if poor Richard was a coward in those days.”

“He is now, or I’m much mistaken,” answered Miss Benson.  “And Mr. Bradshaw was just as strict with Jemima, and she’s no coward.  But I’ve no faith in Richard.  He has a look about him that I don’t like.  And when Mr. Bradshaw was away on business in Holland last year, for those months my young gentleman did not come hall as regularly to chapel, and I always believe that story of his being seen out with the hounds at Smithiles.”

“Those are neither of them great offences in a young man of twenty,” said Mr. Benson, smiling.

“No!  I don’t mind them in themselves; but when he could change back so easily to being regular and mim when his father came home, I don’t like that.”

“Leonard shall never be afraid of me,” said Ruth, following her own train of thought.  “I will be his friend from the very first; and I will try and learn how to be a wise friend, and you will teach me; won’t you, sir?”

“What made you wish to call him Leonard, Ruth?” asked Miss Benson.

“It was my mother’s father’s name; and she used to tell me about him and his goodness, and I thought if Leonard could be like him——­”

“Do you remember the discussion there was about Miss Bradshaw’s name, Thurstan?  Her father wanting her to be called Hephzibah, but insisting that she was to have a Scripture name at any rate; and Mrs. Bradshaw wanting her to be Juliana, after some novel she had read not long before; and at last Jemima was fixed upon, because it would do either for a Scripture name or a name for a heroine out of a book.”