ebe, who came in blooming from the cold, in a furred jacket, at
which the girls looked with unfeigned admiration. "The skating will soon
come on in earnest now," she said; "grandmamma is better, and I thought
I might come and see you. I had a long talk with your brother the other
day, did he tell you? and I made him know Mr. Northcote, one of our
people. I know you will turn up your pretty nose, Ursula, at a
Dissenter."

"I should think so," cried Janey; "we have nothing to do with such
people, being gentlefolks, have we, Ursula? Oh, I forgot! I beg your
pardon, I didn't mean to say--"

Phoebe smiled upon her serenely. "I am not angry," she said, "I
understand all that; and in Carlingford I have no right, I suppose, to
stand upon being a lady, though I always thought I was one. I am only a
young woman here, and not so bad either for that, if you will promise,
Janey, not to call me a young person--"

"Oh, Miss Beecham!"

"Mr. Copperhead is a Dissenter," said Ursula, somewhat sullenly, "we put
up with him because he is rich. Oh, it is all very disagreeable! I don't
want to know any new people whatever they are; I find the old ones bad
enough. Reginald hates him too, a big lazy useless being that treats one
as if one were a chambermaid!"

"Is it Clarence? It is not quite his fault. His mother is a lady, but
his father is a brute," said Phoebe, "thinking of nothing but his
horrible money. Clarence is not so bad. It is because he has no
imagination, and does not understand other people's feelings; he does
not mean it, poor fellow; he goes trampling about with his big feet upon
everybody's toes, and never is a bit the wiser. Here he is--he is coming
in with your father. I suppose there must be a great deal in race," she
added with a soft little sigh, "Clarence looks a clown, and your father
such a gentleman. I suppose I show just the same when I stand beside
you."

Now Phoebe was well aware that this was not the case, and Ursula's
indignant disclaimer made her rather laugh, because it was so
unnecessary, than be pleased by its vehemence. There was an old convex
mirror opposite which reflected the girls in miniature, making a pretty
picture of them as they sat together, Ursula with her dark locks, and
Phoebe in her golden hair, and the tall sharp school-girl, Janey, all
elbows and angles, short petticoats and grey stockings. Janey was the
only one in whom there could have been suspected any inferiority of
race; but her