e, and be your own children; only we would like you best
to stay here."

"My own sweet children," replied the old lady, "we will refer all
these things to your papa and mamma. I am too old, and you are too
young, to manage worldly matters; so we will leave these cares to those
who are neither so young nor so old; God will guide them, I know, to
what is best."

"Come, grandmamma," said Henry, putting his head only into the room,
"the carriage is ready."

"And so am I," said the old lady, and she stepped out into the passage,
and was soon in her Bath-chair.

John was ready to push, but seeing the maid come out to take her place
behind the chair, he walked away without a word.

Miss Tilney, as she called herself, had not much to say before her
mistress, so that she did not disturb the little party.

They did not go beyond the garden, but stopped often in shady places,
where one of the children sat at their grandmother's feet, and the
others on the grass.

The old lady seemed sometimes to have difficulty to be cheerful. She
was often thinking, no doubt, of what was going on at The Grove, for
the funeral was not over. She could not yet speak of the children she
had lost.

Lucy guessed what made her sad, and for some minutes she was thinking
what she could say to amuse her; she thought of several subjects to
speak about; and, young as she was, settled in her own mind she must
not speak of anything sad. At last she thought of what she would say,
and she began by asking her if she saw a high piece of ground covered
with trees at some distance.

"I do, my dear," replied the old lady.

"Would you like to hear about an old house which is beyond that wood?"

The grandmother was not so desirous of hearing about the old house, as
she was to hear how her little grand-daughter could talk. By the words
of children we may learn a great deal of their characters, and how they
have been taught; and so she begged Lucy to tell her about this old
house.

It was Mrs. Goodriche's house that Lucy meant: and she began by telling
what sort of a house it was; and who lived in it now; and what a kind
lady she was; and how they went often to see her; and what pretty
stories she could tell them, particularly about Mrs. Howard.

"Mrs. Howard!" repeated old Mrs. Fairchild, "I have heard of her; I
knew the family of the Symondses well. Do, Lucy, tell me all you know
about that good lady."

How pleasant it was to Lucy to think that she h