er had retired from the shop; but
the shop was still there, greasy and buttery as ever, and Mrs. Beecham's
own respected papa was still "the butterman." How would Phoebe bear it?
This was the uppermost thought in her mind.

"You know, my darling," she said afterwards, when they had left the
study, and were seated, talking it over, in the drawing-room, "there
will be a great deal to put up with. I am silly; I don't like even to
hear your papa say anything about dear old grandpapa. He is my own, and
I ought to stand up for him; but even with grandpapa, you will have a
great deal to put up with. They don't understand our ways. They are
used to have things so different. They think differently, and they talk
differently. Even with your sense, Phoebe, you will find it hard to get
on."

"I am not at all afraid, I assure you, mamma."

"You are not afraid, because you don't know. I know, and I am afraid.
You know, we are not great people, Phoebe. I have always let you know
that--and that it is far finer to elevate yourself than to be born to a
good position. But when you see really the place which poor dear
grandpapa and grandmamma think so much of, I am sure I don't know what
you will say."

"I shall not say much. I shall not say anything, mamma. I am not
prejudiced," said Phoebe. "So long as an occupation is honest and
honourable, and you can do your duty in it, what does it matter? One
kind of work is just as good as another. It is the spirit in which it is
done."

"Oh, honest!" said Mrs. Beecham, half relieved, half affronted. "Of
course, it was all that. Nothing else would have answered papa. Your
uncle Tom has the--business now. You need not go there, my dear, unless
you like. I am not fond of Mrs. Tom. We were always, so to speak, above
our station; but she is not at all above it. She is just adapted for it;
and I don't think she would suit you in the least. So except just for a
formal call, I don't think you need go there, and even that only if
grandmamma can spare you. You must be civil to everybody, I suppose; but
you need not go further; they are not society for you. You will hear
people talk of me by my Christian name, as if we were most intimate; but
don't believe it, Phoebe. I always felt aspirations towards a very
different kind of life."

"Oh, don't be afraid, mamma," said Phoebe, calmly; "I shall be able to
keep them at a distance. You need not fear."

"Yes, my dear," said the anxious mother; "but not t