of making to his father and Margaret a most
formidable description of Ethel's black-hole. It quite alarmed Margaret,
but the doctor smiled, saying, "Ay, ay, I know the face Norman puts on
if he looks into a cottage."

"Well," said Norman, with some mortification, "all I know is, that my
head ached all the rest of the day."

"Very likely, but your head is not Ethel's, and there were twice as many
people as the place was intended to hold."

"A stuffy hole, full of peat-smoke, and with a window that can't open at
the best of times."

"Peat-smoke is wholesome," said Dr. May, looking provoking.

"You don't know what it is, papa, or you would never let Ethel spend her
life there. It is poisonous!"

"I'll take care of Ethel," said Dr. May, walking off, and leaving Norman
in a state of considerable annoyance at being thus treated. He broke
out into fresh exclamations against the horrors of Cocksmoor, telling
Margaret she had no idea what a den it was.

"But, Norman, it can't be so very bad, or Richard would not allow it."

"Richard is deluded!" said Norman; "but if he chooses to run after dirty
brats, why should he take Ethel there?"

"My dear Norman, you know it is all Ethel's doing."

"Yes, I know she has gone crazy after them, and given up all her Greek
for it. It is past endurance!" said Norman, who had worked himself up
into great indignation.

"Well, but surely, Norman, it is better they should do what they can for
those poor creatures, than for Ethel to learn Greek."

"I don't know that. Let those who are fit for nothing else go and
drone over A B C with ragged children, if they like. It is just their
vocation; but there is an order in everything, Margaret, and minds of a
superior kind are intended for higher purposes, not to be wasted in this
manner."

"I don't know whether they are wasted," said Margaret, not quite liking
Norman's tone, though she had not much to say to his arguments.

"Not wasted? Not in doing what any one can do? I know what you'll
say about the poor. I grant it, but high ability must be given for a
purpose, not to be thrown away. It is common-sense, that some one must
be meant to do the dirty work."

"I see what you mean, Norman, but I don't quite like that to be called
by such a name. I think--" she hesitated. "Don't you think you dislike
such things more than--"

"Any one must abominate dirt and slovenliness. I know what you mean. My
father thinks 'tis all nonsense in me, but