er,
who had married a little below his own rank--my mother being the
daughter of a rich manufacturer. My father had died before I can
remember things, and Joseph and I lived with our mother and her
friends. At least, we were with our mother when she could bear the
noise; and for the rest of our time, when we were tired of playing
games together, we sat with the maids.

"That is where you learned your little _toss_ and your trick of
grumbling, my dear," my godmother said, planting her gold eye-glasses
on her high nose; "and that is why your mouth is growing out of shape,
and your forehead getting puckered, and your chin poked, and--and your
boots bulged crooked."

"_My boots_, godmother?"

"Your boots, my dear. No boots will keep in shape if you shake your
hips and kick with your heels like a servant out Sunday walking. When
little girls flounce on the high road, it only looks ridiculous; but
when you grow up, you'll never have a clean petticoat, or be known for
a well-bred woman behind your back, unless you learn to walk as if
your legs and your feelings were under your own control. That is why
the sergeant is coming to-morrow and every week-day morning to drill
you and Joseph from ten to eleven whilst you remain here."

And my godmother pressed the leaves of the journal on her lap, and cut
them quite straight and very decisively with a heavy ivory
paper-knife.

I had never been taught that it is bad manners to mutter--nurse
always talked to herself when she was "put out"--and, as I stood in
much awe of Lady Elizabeth, I did not like to complain aloud of her
arrangements. So I turned my doll with a sharp flounce in my arms, and
muttered behind her tarlatan skirts that "I did think we were to have
had whole holidays out visiting."

I believe my godmother heard me; but she only looked at me for a
moment over the top of her gold eye-glasses, and then went on reading
the paper through them.

After a few moments, she laid it down on her lap with her left hand,
and with her right hand took off her eye-glasses and held them between
her fingers.

"I shall be sorry if you don't grow up nice-looking, Selina," she
said. "It's a great advantage to a woman--indeed, to anyone--to be
good-looking. Your mother was a pretty woman, too; and your father--"

Lady Elizabeth stopped, and then, seeming suddenly to see that I was
watching her and waiting, put her glasses before her eyes again, and
continued--

"Your father was a