Two years passed over Hetty’s head, during which she had plenty of storms and struggles, with times of peace coming in between.  There were days when, but for Mrs. Kane’s good advice, she would have run away to escape from her trials; and yet she had known some happy hours too, and had gained many a little victory over her temper and her pride.  The pleasantest days had been those when Mark Enderby, brother of Phyllis and Nell, was at home for his holidays, for he always took Hetty’s part, not in an uncertain way like Nell’s, but boldly and openly, and often with the most successful results.  He was the only boy Hetty had ever known, and she thought him delightful; though like most boys he would be a little rough sometimes, and would expect her to be able to do all that he could do, and to understand all that he talked about.  He sometimes, indeed, got her into trouble; but Hetty did not grudge any little pain he cost her in return for the protection which he often so frankly afforded her.

Not that anyone meant to be unkind to her.  Mr. and Mrs. Enderby continued to take a friendly interest in everything that concerned her, though strictly following their well-meant plan of not showing her any particular personal affection.  “We must not bring her up in a hothouse,” they said, “only to put her out in the cold afterwards.”  In this they thought themselves exceptionally wise people; and who shall say whether they were or not?  It suited Phyllis admirably to follow in the footsteps of her father and mother; but what was merely prudence on the part of her elder benefactors often appeared something much more unamiable when practised towards Hetty by a girl not many years her senior.  Miss Davis, who was a rigid disciplinarian and trusted as such by her employers, thought chiefly of breaking down the pride and temper of the child, and of bending her character so as to fit her for the hard life that was before her; a life whose difficulties and trials had been bitterly experienced, and not yet all conquered or outlived by the conscientious governess herself.  Nellie, who was Hetty’s only comfort in the great and, as it seemed to her, unfriendly house, too often showed her sympathy in a covert way which made Hetty feel she was half ashamed of her affection; and this deprived such tenderness of the value it would otherwise have had.

Hetty, now above eleven years old, was very much grown and altered.  Her once short curly hair was long, and tied back from her face with a plain black ribbon.  Her face was singularly intelligent, her voice clear and quick, her eyes often much too mournful for the eyes of a child, but sometimes flashing with fun, as, for instance, when Mark engaged her in some piece of drollery.  Then the old spirit that she used to display when she performed her little mimicries for Mrs. Rushton’s amusement would spring up in her again, and she would take great delight in seeing Mark roll about with laughing, and hearing him declare that she was the jolliest girl in the world.