respected governesses, the girls came to tea at six
o'clock, dancing, charades, and so forth, Ethel herded not with the
children of her own age, nor yet with the teachers who sat apart at these
assemblies, imparting to each other their little wrongs. But Ethel romped
with the little children, the rosy little trots, and took them on her
knees, and told them a thousand stories. By these she was adored, and
loved like a mother almost, for as such the hearty, kindly girl showed
herself to them; but at home she was alone, and intractable, and did
battle with the governesses, and overcame them one after another.

While Lady Ann Newcome and her children were at Brighton, Lady Kew,
mother of Lady Ann, was also staying there, but refused to visit the
house in which her daughter was stopping for fear that she herself might
contract the disease from which her grandchildren were recovering. She
received news of them, however, through her grandson, Lord Kew, and his
friend Jack Belsize, who enjoyed dining with the old lady whenever they
were given the opportunity. Having met their cousins one day before
dining with Lady Kew their news was most interesting and enthusiastic.

"That little chap who has just had the measles--he's a dear little
brick," said Jack Belsize. "And as for Miss Ethel--"

"Ethel is a trump, mam," says Lord Kew, slapping his hand on his knee.

"Ethel is a brick, and Alfred is a trump, I think you say," remarks Lady
Kew, "and Barnes is a snob. This is very satisfactory to know."

"We met the children out to-day," cries the enthusiastic Kew, "as I was
driving Jack in the drag, and I got out and talked to 'em. The little
fellow wanted a drive and I said I would drive him and Ethel, too, if she
would come. Upon my word she's as pretty a girl as you can see on a
summer's day. And the governess said, no, of course; governesses always
do. But I said I was her uncle, and Jack paid her such a fine compliment
that she finally let the children take their seats beside me, and Jack
went behind. We drove on to the Downs; my horses are young, and when they
get on the grass they are as if they were mad. They ran away, ever so
far, and I thought the carriage must upset. The poor little boy, who has
lost his pluck in the fever, began to cry; but that young girl, though
she was as white as a sheet, never gave up for a moment, and sat in her
place like a man. We met nothing, luckily; and I pulled the horses in
after a mile or two