iments with regard to the two Beatrices were of
a curiously varying and always opposite description. When her
daughter-in-law was at a distance, she secretly regarded with a kind of
respectful aversion, both her talents, her learning, and the fashionable
life to which she had been accustomed; but in her presence the winning,
lively simplicity of her manners completely dispelled all these
prejudices in an instant, and she loved her most cordially for her own
sake, as well as because she was Geoffrey's wife. On the contrary, the
younger Beatrice, while absent, was the dear little granddaughter,--the
Queen of Bees, the cleverest of creatures; and while present, it has
already been shown how constantly the two tempers fretted each other, or
had once done so, though now, so careful had Busy Bee lately been, there
had been only one collision between them for the last ten days, and that
was caused by her strenuous attempts to convince grandmamma that Fred
was not yet fit for boiled chicken and calves' foot jelly.

Mrs. Langford's greetings were not half over when Henrietta and her
mamma hastened down stairs to embrace dear Aunt Geoffrey.

"My dear Mary, I am so glad to be come to you at last!"

"Thank you, O! thank you, Beatrice. How Fred will enjoy having you now!"

"Is he tired?" asked Uncle Geoffrey.

"No, not at all; he seems to be very comfortable. He has been talking of
Queen Bee's promised visit. Do you like to go up now, my dear?"

Queen Bee consented eagerly, though with some trepidation, for she had
not seen her cousin since his accident, and besides, she did not know
how to begin about Philip Carey. She ran to take off her bonnet,
while Henrietta went to announce her coming. She knocked at the door,
Henrietta opened it, and coming in, she saw Fred lying on the sofa by
the fire, in his dressing-gown, stretched out in that languid listless
manner that betokens great feebleness. There were the purple marks of
leeches on his temples; his hair had been cropped close to his head; his
face was long and thin, without a shade of colour, but his eyes looked
large and bright; and he smiled and held out his hand: "Ah, Queenie, how
d'ye do?"

"How d'ye do, Fred? I am glad you are better."

"You see I have the asses' ears after all," said he, pointing to his
own, which were very prominent in his shorn and shaven condition.

Beatrice could not very easily call up a smile, but she made an effort,
and succeeded, while she s