ure you
won't mind my saying so, but James has not seen his paper yet."

"I have noticed he never by any chance looks at it till the evening, and
you always say you never read it," said Hester, deep in a political
crisis.

"That is his rule, and a very good rule it is; but he naturally likes to
be the _first_ to look at it," said Mrs. Gresley, with a great exercise
of patience. She had heard Hester was clever, but she found her very
stupid. Everything had to be explained to her.

Her tone recalled Hester from the Indian tribal rising and the speech of
the Prime Minister to the realities of life. It was fortunate for her
that she was quick-witted. These two flagrant blunders were sufficient
for her. She grasped the principle that those who have a great love of
power and little scope for it must necessarily exercise it in trivial
matters. She extended the principle of the newspaper and the letter-bag
over her entire intercourse with the Gresleys and never offended in that
manner again.

On this particular morning she waited decorously beside her brother as
he opened the bag and dealt out the contents into three heaps. Hester
pounced on hers and subsided into her chair at the breakfast-table.

"I wonder," said Mrs. Gresley, looking at Hester's pile of letters over
the top of her share of the morning's correspondence--namely, a list of
Pryce Jones--"that you care to write so many letters, Hester. I am sure
I never did such a thing when I was a girl. I should have regarded it as
a waste of time."

"Ha!" said Mr. Gresley, in a gratified tone, opening a little roll.
"What have we here? Proofs! My paper upon 'Modern Dissent.' I told
Edwards I would not allow him to put it in his next number of the
_Southminster Advertiser_ until I had glanced at it in print. I don't
know when I shall find time to correct it. I shall be out all the
afternoon at the chapter meeting."

He looked at Hester. She had laid down her letters and was taking a cup
of coffee from Mrs. Gresley. She evidently had not heard her brother's
remark.

"You and I must lay our heads together over this, Hester," he said,
holding up with some pride a long slip of proof. "It will be just in
your line. You might run it over after breakfast," he continued, in high
good-humor, "and put in the stops and grammar and spelling--you're more
up in that sort of thing than I am--and then we will go through it
together."

Hester was quite accustomed, when her help was