saw her must do
her justice, and that serene conviction preserved her from all the
throes of uneasy pride which afflict inferior minds in similar
circumstances. She had no wish to exhibit her grandfather and
grandmother in their lowliness, nor to be ostentatious of her homely
origin, as some people are in the very soreness of wounded pride; but if
hazard produced the butterman in the midst of the finest of her
acquaintances, Phoebe would still have been perfectly at her ease. She
would be herself, whatever happened.

In the mean time, however, it was apparent that Duty was what she had to
look to; Duty, and that alone. She had come here, not to amuse herself,
not to please herself, but to do her duty; and having thus concluded
upon her object, she felt comparatively happy, and at her ease.

Mrs. Tozer had put on her best cap, which was a very gorgeous creation.
She had dressed herself as if for a party, with a large brooch,
enclosing a curl of various coloured hair cut from the heads of her
children in early life, which fastened a large worked collar over a
dress of copper-coloured silk, and she rustled and shook a good deal as
she came downstairs into the garden to meet her grandchild, with some
excitement and sense of the "difference" which could not but be felt on
one side as well as on the other. She, too, was somewhat frightened by
the appearance of the young lady, who was her Phoebe's child, yet was so
unlike any other scion of the Tozer race; and felt greatly disposed to
curtsey and say "Ma'am" to her.

"You've grown a deal and changed a deal since I saw you last," she said,
restraining this impression, and receiving Phoebe's kiss with gratified,
yet awe-struck feeling; and then her respectful alarm getting too much
for her, she added, faltering, "You'll find us but humble folks; perhaps
not altogether what you've been used to--"

Phoebe did not think it expedient to make any reply to this outburst of
humility.

"Grandmamma, I am afraid you have over-exerted yourself, coming
downstairs to meet me," she said, taking the old lady's hand, and
drawing it within her arm. "Yes, I have grown; I am tall enough to be of
some use; but you must not treat me as if I were a stranger. No, no;
never mind my room. I am not tired; the journey is nothing. Let me take
you back to your chair and make you comfortable. I feel myself quite at
home already. The only odd thing is that I have never been here before."

"Ah, my dear,