acknowledged, "after my son-in-law's little outbreak of temper. My
poor Herbert, when will you understand that I mean no harm? I am an
essentially humorous person; my wonderful spirits are always carrying me
away. I do assure you, Miss Westerfield, I don't know what worry is. My
troubles--deaths in the family, and that sort of thing--seem to slip off
me in a most remarkable manner. Poor Mr. Norman used to attribute it to
my excellent digestion. My second husband would never hear of such an
explanation as that. His high ideal of women shrank from allusions to
stomachs. He used to speak so nicely (quoting some poet) of the sunshine
of my breast. Vague, perhaps," said Mrs. Presty, modestly looking down
at the ample prospect of a personal nature which presented itself below
her throat, "but so flattering to one's feelings. There's the luncheon
bell again, I declare! I'll run on before and tell them you are coming.
Some people might say they wished to be punctual. I am truth itself,
and I own I don't like to be helped to the underside of the fish. _Au
revoir!_ Do you remember, Miss Westerfield, when I asked you to repeat
_au revoir_ as a specimen of your French? I didn't think much of your
accent. Oh, dear me, I didn't think much of your accent!"

Kitty looked after her affluent grandmother with eyes that stared
respectfully in ignorant admiration. She pulled her father's coat-tail,
and addressed herself gravely to his private ear. "Oh, papa, what noble
words grandmamma has!"

Chapter XI.

Linley Asserts His Authority.

On the evening of Monday in the new week, the last of the visitors had
left Mount Morven. Mrs. Linley dropped into a chair (in, what Randal
called, "the heavenly tranquillity of the deserted drawing-room") and
owned that the effort of entertaining her guests had completely worn her
out. "It's too absurd, at my time of life," she said with a faint smile;
"but I am really and truly so tired that I must go to bed before dark,
as if I was a child again."

Mrs. Presty--maliciously observant of the governess, sitting silent and
apart in a corner--approached her daughter in a hurry; to all appearance
with a special object in view. Linley was at no loss to guess what that
object might be. "Will you do me a favor, Catherine?" Mrs. Presty began.
"I wish to say a word to you in your own room."

"Oh, mamma, have some mercy on me, and put it off till to-morrow!"

Mrs. Presty reluctantly consented to th