ness and generosity of the young man; and Mr. Ponsonby, by his words and the influence of example, did more good by them, than his friend did with money. I have never seen Mr. Ponsonby again till to-day, but I have never ceased to think of him, and pray that he might be richly blessed for all he did for me and mine.'

'I wish you would pray for me,' Elfrida said impetuously; I am sure I need it.'

When Mrs. Meredith was gone, Elfrida settled herself to sleep; and Mr. Clarke's entrance into her little room, solemnly preceded by Miss Ponsonby, did not rouse her.

'Let her sleep,' Mr. Clarke said, feeling her pulse. 'Ah! there is nothing wrong here; the cut is a mere scratch. Poor little Daisy, on the contrary, must be kept quiet for some days: she is very feverish and restless; and I have ordered her a sick child's best cure, her mother's presence through the night. not keep this room too hot,' Dr. Clarke said; 'it is cold out of doors, but the Cottage always feels like a warm nest.'

Do

'Would you wish Elfrida to have any more nourishment to-night? The sound of the dinnerbell did not rouse her.'

If she wakes, she can have some soup or beef-tea, but I would let her sleep. I hear,' Dr. Clarke went on, she showed the greatest courage this afternoon, and by her self-possession saved Daisy Huntingdon's life.'

When Dr. Clarke was gone, Miss Ponsonby sat for

P

some time meditating over the events of the day. 'How was it that she made no way in gaining Elfrida's affection? If she were softer and more gentle and obedient one day, the next she was defiant and determined to resist authority. How was it that Mrs. Meredith seemed to have far more influence with her than she had? that Lord Maintree also seemed to admire her? and that she was apparently more at ease with him, whom she had known only a few hours, than with her two aunts, in whose house she had lived six or seven months? 'We are too old to have the habits of years changed,' Miss Ponsonby thought. 'The children of these days are so entirely different from those of the past, that it is not likely I can understand them. Well, I must wait a little longer before I decide, but I do not think I shall be able to bear this strain upon my patience much longer.'

Good, excellent Miss Ponsonby! It did not strike her that Elfrida also had her trials, and that to her free and undisciplined nature, restraint and formality were torture. Nor did the courage and heroism. Elfrida had shown in danger, impress Miss Ponsonby so forcibly as they had impressed Lord Maintree!

W

CHAPTER XVII.

'DIVIDED.'

HEN Elfrida woke the next morning, she felt strong and well. There was not a trace of fatigue left; and except for the rather deep scratch on her left hand, over which Mrs. Broome put some gold-beater's skin, there was nothing to tell of the perils of the day before.

Daisy, on the contrary, came back to the Vicarage in the close carriage about twelve o'clock, much shaken and very tearful. She had passed a restless night, and was continually clinging to her mother, who slept with her, and entreating her to save her from slipping back into the water.

Mr. Clarke said that her nervous system had received a shock, and that it would take a few days' quiet to recover from it.

The sight of Elfrida-who came into the room with her usually swift motion-brought on a hysterical burst of crying, and the poor child clung weeping to her neck.

'Don't cry like that, Daisy; what is there to cry about? You are all right now; and so am I.'

'Oh, Elfrida! I thought I should have gone down! It was so awful to feel nothing under me, and you holding me up.'

'Don't think about it now,' said Elfrida.

'Elfrida,' Daisy whispered, 'I did not mean to do wrong when I went on the pond. I could not hear them calling.'

'Of course not. If I were you, Daisy, I would not trouble my head about it any more.'

·

'Will you stay with us all day, Elfrida?'

'Well, no; I am afraid I can't. I am going to spend the afternoon with the Clarkes.

are going to dine at Portbury Castle.'

The aunts

'Are you fond of the Clarkes?' Daisy asked. 'I don't know that I am; but Leonora always seems as if she were fond of me.'

Daisy was silent; then she said, 'To seem is not to be, is it? But, Elfrida, we are all fond of you; and father said to-day, that now he must always be grateful to you for what you did for me.'

'Don't think any more about it, Daisy; it is not good for you. You are a dear little thing; I wish I were like you.'

'Like me!' said Daisy, with unfeigned surprise. 'Deaf like me! You can't mean it, Elfrida ?'

'You and little Nina Firth are as good as gold; and I know if I were like you, I should be happier. But it's nonsense to talk like this, and I must really say good-bye.'

I Wait till mother comes home; she does so want to thank you,' Daisy pleaded.

But Elfrida was only too eager to escape 'thanks,' and was crossing the hall just as Mrs. Huntingdon was coming down-stairs.

'Elfrida, my dear child, stop! I want to speak to you !'

'I shall be late for luncheon,' Elfrida said hurriedly. I have seen Daisy, and she seems all right;' and then awkwardly, and with no light of pleasure in her eyes, Elfrida received Mrs. Huntingdon's warm kiss and tearful expression of admiration for her bravery and self-possession, which had, with God's help, saved Daisy in a moment of great peril.

'It was nothing,' was all Elfrida could say in a low tone; and Mrs. Huntingdon said for the hundredth time, as Elfrida left her abruptly, 'What a strange girl she is! I do not wonder that she baffles poor Miss Ponsonby.'

It was with a secret misgiving that Elfrida found herself in the Clarkes' waggonette, driving off to Maintree for the second time. She had that doubt about what she was doing, which is often like a voice within us whispering in answer to another voice, just as two people hold counsel together. Elfrida knew that her Aunt Dorothy would disapprove of her singing, and that this was the reason that she had not asked her leave to do so. True, it had been sought and obtained, not too willingly,