manners. She speaks more broadly than Sophy, and much worse than the
rest of us, and she eats her peas with a knife, which Grandmamma used to
say was the sure sign of a vulgar creature. Esther is as kind-hearted a
girl as breathes; but--oh dear, what will Cecilia say to her! I felt
quite uncomfortable.

And yet, why should I care what Cecilia says? She has shown me plainly
enough that she does not care for me. But somehow, she seemed so above
us with those dainty ways, and that soft southern accent, and all she
knew about etiquette and the mode, and the stories she was constantly
telling about great people. Sir George Blank had said such a fine thing
to her when she was at my Lady Dash's assembly; and my Lady Camilla
Such-an-one was her dearest friend; and the Honourable Annabella This
carried her to drive, and my Lord Herbert That held her cloak at the
opera. It was so grand to hear her!

Somehow, Cecilia never said things of that kind when my Aunt Kezia was
in the room, and I noted that her grand stories were always much tamer
in Flora's or Sophy's presence. She did not seem to care about Hatty
much either way. But when there were only Amelia, Fanny, Charlotte and
me, then, I could not help seeing, she laid the gilt on much thicker.
Charlotte used to sit and stare, and then laugh in a way that I thought
very rude; but Cecilia did not appear to mind it. When Father came into
the parlour, she did so change. Oh, then she was so sweet and
amiable!--so delicately attentive!--so anxious that he should be made
comfortable, and have everything just as he liked it! I did think,
considering that he had four daughters, she might have left that to us.
To Ephraim Hebblethwaite she was very attentive and charming, too, but
in quite a different way. But she wasted no attention at all on Mr
Parmenter, except for those side-glances now and then out of the tawny
eyes, which seemed to say that they perfectly understood one another,
and that no explanations of any sort were necessary between them.

I cannot make out what Mr Parmenter does for his living. He is not a
man of property, for the Vicar told Father that his nephew, Mr
Parmenter's father, left nothing at all for his children. Yet Mr
Anthony never seems to do anything but look through his eyeglass, and
twirl his mustachios, and talk. I asked Amelia if she knew, for one of
the Miss Parmenters, who is married now, lives not far from Bracewell
Hall. Amelia, howe