‘Yes, we will make her a beauty when we are about it.’

’And, after all, affection is the great charm, and if she were attached, it would, be so intensely—­and happiness would develop so much that is glorious, only hidden down so deep.’

‘I hope you may find her a male Albinia,’ said Winifred, a little wickedly, ’but take care.  It might be kill or cure, and I fancy when sunshine is attracted by shadow, it is more often as it was in your case than vice versa.’

‘Take care!’ repeated Albinia, affronted.  ’You don’t fancy I am going beyond a vague wish, do you?’

‘And rather a premature one.  How old is Sophy?’

‘Towards fourteen, but years older in thought and in suffering.’

Albinia did not hear the result of the conference with her brother till she had resumed her seat in the carriage, after having been surprised by Mr. Kendal handing in three tall theological tomes.  They both had much to think over as they drove home in the lengthening shadows.  Albinia was greatly concerned that Winifred’s health had become affected, and that her ordinary home duties were beyond her strength.  Albinia had formerly thought Fairmead parsonage did not give her enough to do, but now she saw the gap that she had left; and she had fallen into a maze of musings over schemes for helping Winifred, before Mr. Kendal spoke, telling her that he had resolved that Sophia’s admission into the Church should take place as soon as she was equal to the exertion.

Albinia asked if she should speak to Mr. Dusautoy, but the manliness of Mr. Kendal’s character revolted from putting off a confession upon his wife; so he went to church the next morning, and saw the vicar afterwards.

Mr. Dusautoy’s first thought was gratitude for the effort that the resolution must have cost both Mr. Kendal and his daughter; his next, how to make the occasion as little trying to their feelings as was consistent with his duty and theirs.  He saw Sophy, and tried to draw her out, but, though far from sullen, she did not reply freely.  However, he was satisfied, and he wished her, likewise, to consider herself under preparation for Confirmation in the autumn.  She did all that he wished quietly and earnestly, but without much remark, her confidence only came forth when her feelings were strongly stirred, and it was remarkable that throughout this time of preparation there was not the remotest shadow of ill-temper.

Mr. Kendal insisted that her London doctor should come to see her at the year’s end.  The improvement had not been all that had been hoped, but it was decided that though several hours of each day must still be spent on her back, she might move about, join the meals, and do whatever she could without over-fatigue.  It seemed a great release, but it was a shock to find how very little she could do at first, now that she had lost the habit of exertion, and of disregard of her discomforts.  She had