the women first, as now is the manner of eating;
except among the workmen. With them, of course, it is needful that
the man (who has his hours fixed) should be served first, and make the
utmost of his time for feeding, while the women may go on, as much as
ever they please, afterwards. But with us, who are not bound to time,
there is no such reason to be quoted; and the women being the weaker
vessels, should be the first to begin to fill. And so we always arranged
it.

Now, though our Annie was a graceful maid, and Lizzie a very learned
one, you should have seen how differently Lorna managed her dining; she
never took more than about a quarter of a mouthful at a time, and she
never appeared to be chewing that, although she must have done so.
Indeed, she appeared to dine as if it were a matter of no consequence,
and as if she could think of other things more than of her business. All
this, and her own manner of eating, I described to Eliza once, when I
wanted to vex her for something very spiteful that she had said; and
I never succeeded so well before, for the girl was quite outrageous,
having her own perception of it, which made my observation ten times as
bitter to her. And I am not sure but what she ceased to like poor Lorna
from that day; and if so, I was quite paid out, as I well deserved, for
my bit of satire.

For it strikes me that of all human dealings, satire is the very lowest,
and most mean and common. It is the equivalent in words of what bullying
is in deeds; and no more bespeaks a clever man, than the other does a
brave one. These two wretched tricks exalt a fool in his own low esteem,
but never in his neighbour's; for the deep common sense of our nature
tells that no man of a genial heart, or of any spread of mind, can take
pride in either. And though a good man may commit the one fault or the
other, now and then, by way of outlet, he is sure to have compunctions
soon, and to scorn himself more than the sufferer.

Now when the young maidens were gone--for we had quite a high dinner of
fashion that day, with Betty Muxworthy waiting, and Gwenny Carfax at the
gravy--and only mother, and Tom, and I remained at the white deal table,
with brandy, and schnapps, and hot water jugs; Squire Faggus said quite
suddenly, and perhaps on purpose to take us aback, in case of our hiding
anything,--"What do you know of the history of that beautiful maiden,
good mother?"

"Not half so much as my son does," mother answ