have many disagreeable things to encounter in Carlingford, but she felt
so sure that nothing could really humiliate _her_, or pull her down from
her real eminence, that the knowledge conveyed no fears to her mind.
When this confidence in her own superiority to all debasing influences
is held by the spotless princess in the poem, it is the most beautiful
of human sentiments, and why it should not be equally elevated when
entertained by a pink and plump modern young woman, well up in all
nineteenth century refinements, and the daughter of the minister of the
Crescent Chapel, it would be hard to say. Phoebe held it with the
strongest faith.

"Their ways of thinking, perhaps, and their ways of living, are not
those which I have been used to," she said; "but how does that affect
me? I am myself whatever happens; even if poor dear grandmamma's habits
are not refined, which I suppose is what you mean, mamma, that does not
make me unrefined. A lady must always be a lady wherever she is--Una,"
she continued, using strangely enough the same argument which has
occurred to her historian, "is not less a princess when she is living
among the satyrs. Of course, I am not like Una--and neither are they
like the wild people in the wood."

Mrs. Beecham did not know much about Una, except that she was somebody
in a book; but she kissed her daughter, and assured her that she was "a
real comfort," and devoted herself to her comfort for the few days that
remained, doing everything that it was possible to do to show her love,
and, so to speak, gratitude to the good child who was thus throwing
herself into the breach. The Beechams were in no want of money to buy
what pleased them, and the mother made many additions to Phoebe's
wardrobe which that young lady herself thought quite unnecessary, not
reflecting that other sentiments besides that of simple love for herself
were involved.

"They shall see that my daughter is not just like one of their
common-looking girls," Mrs. Beecham said to her husband; and he shared
the feeling, though he could not but think within himself that her
aspect was of very much more importance than the appearance of Phoebe
Tozer's child could possibly be as _his_ daughter.

"You are quite right, my dear," he replied, "vulgar people of that sort
are but too ready to look down upon a pastor's family. They ought to be
made to see the difference."

The consequence of this was that Phoebe was fitted out like a young