of titled grandees; but she had prepared herself to be more than
ordinarily submissive to Lady Scatcherd. Her hostess was a widow, was
not a woman of high birth, was a woman of whom her uncle spoke well;
and, for all these reasons, Mary was determined to respect her, and
pay to her every consideration. But when she settled down in the
house she found it almost impossible to do so. Lady Scatcherd treated
her as a farmer's wife might have treated some convalescent young
lady who had been sent to her charge for a few weeks, in order that
she might benefit by the country air. Her ladyship could hardly bring
herself to sit still and eat her dinner tranquilly in her guest's
presence. And then nothing was good enough for Mary. Lady Scatcherd
besought her, almost with tears, to say what she liked best to eat
and drink; and was in despair when Mary declared she didn't care,
that she liked anything, and that she was in nowise particular in
such matters.

"A roast fowl, Miss Thorne?"

"Very nice, Lady Scatcherd."

"And bread sauce?"

"Bread sauce--yes; oh, yes--I like bread sauce,"--and poor Mary tried
hard to show a little interest.

"And just a few sausages. We make them all in the house, Miss Thorne;
we know what they are. And mashed potatoes--do you like them best
mashed or baked?"

Mary finding herself obliged to vote, voted for mashed potatoes.

"Very well. But, Miss Thorne, if you like boiled fowl better, with
a little bit of ham, you know, I do hope you'll say so. And there's
lamb in the house, quite beautiful; now do 'ee say something; do 'ee,
Miss Thorne."

So invoked, Mary felt herself obliged to say something, and declared
for the roast fowl and sausages; but she found it very difficult to
pay much outward respect to a person who would pay so much outward
respect to her. A day or two after her arrival it was decided that
she should ride about the place on a donkey; she was accustomed to
riding, the doctor having generally taken care that one of his own
horses should, when required, consent to carry a lady; but there was
no steed at Boxall Hill that she could mount; and when Lady Scatcherd
had offered to get a pony for her, she had willingly compromised
matters by expressing the delight she would have in making a campaign
on a donkey. Upon this, Lady Scatcherd had herself set off in quest
of the desired animal, much to Mary's horror; and did not return till
the necessary purchase had been effected. Then she