She asked Emilie at bed time what she should do about Muff; she had so long been accustomed to her seat by the sunny window in Edith's room, that to try and tempt her from it she knew would be vain.

Did she remember the time when Miss Webster, indignant at Emilie for being a fortnight behind-hand in her weekly rent, refused to lend a sofa for her dying father, without extra pay?

To the son of the dean of Christ Church, the boy of fourteen, who played Emilie in the dress of a princess, her compliment was still higher.

Edith could not tell Emilie of her new resolutions, of her mental conflict, but she was so loving and affectionate in her manner to her friend, that I think Emilie understood; at any rate, she saw that Edith was very pleasant, and very gentle that night, and loved her more than ever.

"Will you give up your walk to-night, Edith," said Emilie on her return to the shop, "Poor Miss Webster is in such pain I cannot leave her, and if you would run home and ask your papa to step in and see her, and say she has scalt her foot badly, I would thank you very much.