e got a Cousin Anne, it makes
everything so lovely."

"And so it does, dearie--so it does," agreed Mrs. Bateson, who did not
in the least understand what Elisabeth meant.

On the way home, after the tea-party was over, Christopher remarked:

"Old Mother Bateson isn't a bad sort; but I can't stand Mother Hankey."

"Why not?"

"She says such horrid things." He had not yet forgiven Mrs. Hankey for
her gloomy prophecies respecting Elisabeth.

"Not horrid, Chris. She is rather stupid sometimes, and doesn't know
when things are funny; but she never means to be really horrid, I am
sure."

"Well, I think she is an old cat," persisted Christopher.

"The only thing I don't like about her is her gloves," added Elisabeth
thoughtfully; "they are so old they smell of biscuit. Isn't it funny
that old gloves always smell of biscuit. I wonder why?"

"I think they do," agreed Christopher; "but nobody except you would ever
have thought of saying it. You have a knack of saying what everybody
else is thinking; and that is what makes you so amusing."

"I'm glad you think I'm amusing; but I can't see much funniness in just
saying what is true."

"Well, I can't explain why it is funny; but you really are simply
killing sometimes," said Christopher graciously.

The next day, and on many succeeding ones, Elisabeth duly visited Jemima
Stubbs and the invalid boy, although Christopher entreated her not to
worry herself about them, and offered to go in her place. But he failed
to understand that Elisabeth was goaded by no depressing sense of duty,
as he would have been in similar circumstances; she went because pity
was a passion with her, and therefore she was always absorbingly
interested in any one whom she pitied. Strength and success and
such-like attributes never appealed to Elisabeth, possibly because she
herself was strong, and possessed all the qualities of the successful
person; but weakness and failure were all-powerful in enlisting her
sympathy and interest and, through these, her love. As Christopher grew
older he dreamed dreams of how in the future he should raise himself
from being only the nephew of Miss Farringdon's manager to a position of
wealth and importance; and how he should finally bring all his glories
and honours and lay them at Elisabeth's feet. His eyes were not opened
to see that Elisabeth would probably turn with careless laughter from
all such honours thus manufactured into her pavement; but if he came to