y, because I came of age, and it was
_proper_; while if I ask that our people may be released from work on
Good Friday or Ascension Day, it is thought outrageous.'

'If I remember right, my dear,' interposed his aunt, 'you wanted no
work to be done on any saint's-day. Was there not a scheme that Mr.
Holdsworth called the cricket cure!'

'That may yet be. No one knows the good a few free days would do the
poor. But I developed my plan too rapidly! I'll try again for their
church-going on Good Friday.'

'I think you ought to succeed there.'

'I know how it will be. My father will ring, propound the matter to
Frampton; the answer will be, 'Quite impracticable, my Lord,' and there
will be an end of it.'

'Perhaps not. At least it will have been considered,' said Mary.

'True,' said Louis; 'but you little know what it is to have a Frampton!
If he be a fair sample of prime ministers, no wonder Princes of Wales
go into the opposition!'

'I thought Frampton was a very valuable superior servant.'

'Exactly so. That is the worst of it. He is supreme authority, and
well deserves it. When la Grande Mademoiselle stood before the gates
of Orleans calling to the sentinel to open them, he never stirred a
step, but replied merely with profound bows. That is my case. I make
a request, am answered, 'Yes, my Lord;' find no results, repeat the
process, and at the fourth time am silenced with, 'Quite impracticable
my Lord.''

'Surely Frampton is respectful?'

'It is his very essence. He is a thorough aristocrat, respecting
himself, and therefore respecting all others as they deserve. He
respects a Viscount Fitzjocelyn as an appendage nearly as needful as
the wyverns on each side of the shield; but as to the individual
holding that office, he regards him much as he would one of the wyverns
with a fool's-cap on.'

And with those words, Fitzjocelyn had sprung into the hedge to gather
the earliest willow-catkins, and came down dilating on their silvery,
downy buds and golden blossoms, and on the pleasure they would give
Miss Faithfull, till Mary, who had been beginning to compassionate him,
was almost vexed to think her pity wasted on grievances of mere random
talk.

Warm and kindly was his greeting of his aunt's good old servant, Jane
Beckett, whom Mary was well pleased to meet as one of the kind friends
of her childhood. The refinement that was like an atmosphere around
Mrs. Frost, seemed to have extended even to