bey; dreadfully lonesome I assure you I find it, Lady Annabel.
Great change for us from a little town and all our kind neighbours.
Very different from Morpeth; is it not, Plantagenet?'

'I hate Morpeth,' said the boy.

'Hate Morpeth!' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis; 'well, I am sure, that
is very ungrateful, with so many kind friends as we always found.
Besides, Plantagenet, have I not always told you that you are to hate
nothing? It is very wicked. The trouble it costs me, Lady Annabel, to
educate this dear child!' continued Mrs. Cadurcis, turning to Lady
Annabel, and speaking in a semi-tone. 'I have done it all myself, I
assure you; and, when he likes, he can be as good as any one. Can't
you, Plantagenet?'

Lord Cadurcis gave a grim smile; seated himself at the very back of
the deep chair and swung his feet, which no longer reached the ground,
to and fro.

'I am sure that Lord Cadurcis always behaves well,' said Lady Annabel.

'There, Plantagenet,' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis, 'only listen to that.
Hear what Lady Annabel Herbert says; she is sure you always behave
well. Now mind, never give her ladyship cause to change her opinion.'

Plantagenet curled his lip, and half turned his back on his
companions.

'I regretted so much that I was not at home when you did me the honour
to call,' resumed Mrs. Cadurcis; 'but I had gone over for the day to
Southport, buying furniture. What a business it is to buy furniture,
Lady Annabel!' added Mrs. Cadurcis, with a piteous expression.

'It is indeed very troublesome,' said Lady Annabel.

'Ah! you have none of these cares,' continued Mrs. Cadurcis, surveying
the pretty apartment. 'What a difference between Cherbury and the
abbey! I suppose you have never been there?'

'Indeed, it is one of my favourite walks,' answered Lady Annabel;
'and, some two years ago, I even took the liberty of walking through
the house.'

'Was there ever such a place!' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis. 'I assure you
my poor head turns whenever I try to find my way about it. But the
trustees offered it us, and I thought it my duty to my son to reside
there. Besides, it was a great offer to a widow; if poor Mr. Cadurcis
had been alive it would have been different. I hardly know what
I shall do there, particularly in winter. My spirits are always
dreadfully low. I only hope Plantagenet will behave well. If he goes
into his tantarums at the abbey, and particularly in winter, I hardly
know what will become of me!'