ayful
grumbling, which greatly teased Uncle Roger.

"There is Sutton Leigh," said grandpapa, as they came in sight of a low
white house among farm buildings. "Well, Henrietta, are you prepared for
an introduction to an aunt and half-a-dozen cousins, and Jessie Carey
into the bargain?"

"Jessie Carey!" exclaimed Beatrice in a tone of dismay.

"Did you not know she was there? Why they always send Carey over for her
with the gig if there is but a tooth-ache the matter at Sutton Leigh."

"Is she one of Aunt Roger's nieces?" asked Henrietta.

"Yes," said Beatrice. "And--O! grandpapa, don't look at me in that way.
Where is the use of being your pet, if I may not tell my mind?"

"I won't have Henrietta prejudiced," said Mr. Langford. "Don't listen to
her, my dear: and I'll tell you what Jessie Carey is. She is an honest,
good-natured girl as ever lived; always ready to help every one, never
thinking of trouble, without an atom of selfishness."

"Now for the but, grandpapa," cried Beatrice. "I allow all that, only
grant me the but."

"But Queen Bee, chancing to be a conceited little Londoner, looks down
on us poor country folks as unfit for her most refined and intellectual
society."

"O grandpapa, that is not fair! Indeed, you don't really believe that.
O, say you don't!" And Beatrice's black eyes were full of tears.

"If I do not believe the whole, you believe the half, Miss Bee," and he
added, half whispering, "take care some of us do not believe the other
half. But don't look dismal on the matter, only put it into one of your
waxen cells, and don't lose sight of it. And if it is any comfort to
you, I will allow that perhaps poor Jessie is not the most entertaining
companion for you. Her vanity maggots are not of the same sort as
yours."

They had by this time nearly reached Sutton Leigh, a building little
altered from the farm-house it had originally been, with a small garden
in front, and a narrow footpath up to the door. As soon as they came in
sight there was a general rush forward of little boys in brown holland,
all darting on Uncle Geoffrey, and holding him fast by legs and arms.

"Let me loose, you varlets," he cried, and disengaging one hand, in
another moment drew from his capacious pocket a beautiful red ball,
which he sent bounding over their heads, and dancing far away with all
the urchins in pursuit.

At the same moment the rosy, portly, good-humoured Mrs. Roger Langford
appeared at the door, we