d rather (Goodness forbid that
we should see Miss Honeyman arraying herself, or penetrate that chaste
mystery, her toilette!)--then she came to wait upon Lady Anne, not
a little flurried as to the result of that queer interview; then she
whisked out of the drawing-room as before has been shown; and, finding
the chicken roasted to a turn, the napkin and tray ready spread by
Hannah the neat-handed, she was bearing them up to the little patient
when the frantic parent met her on the stair.

"Is it--is it for my child?" cried Lady Anne, reeling against the
bannister.

"Yes, it's for the child," says Miss Honeyman, tossing up her head. "But
nobody else has anything in the house."

"God bless you--God bless you! A mother's bl-l-essings go with you,"
gurgled the lady, who was not, it must be confessed, a woman of strong
moral character.

It was good to see the little man eating the fowl. Ethel, who had never
cut anything in her young existence, except her fingers now and then
with her brother's and her governess's penknives, bethought her of
asking Miss Honeyman to carve the chicken. Lady Anne, with clasped hands
and streaming eyes, sate looking on at the ravishing scene.

"Why did you not let us know you were Clive's aunt?" Ethel asked,
putting out her hand. The old lady took hers very kindly, and said,
"Because you didn't give me time. And do you love Clive, my dear?"

The reconciliation between Miss Honeyman and her lodger was perfect.
Lady Anne wrote a quire of notepaper off to Sir Brian for that day's
post--only she was too late, as she always was. Mr. Kuhn perfectly
delighted Miss Honeyman that evening by his droll sayings, jokes, and
pronunciation, and by his praises of Master Glife, as he called him. He
lived out of the house, did everything for everybody, was never out of
the way when wanted, and never in the way when not wanted. Ere long Miss
Honeyman got out a bottle of the famous Madeira which her Colonel sent
her, and treated him to a glass in her own room. Kuhn smacked his lips
and held out the glass again. The honest rogue knew good wine.

CHAPTER X. Ethel and her Relations

For four-and-twenty successive hours Lady Anne Newcome was perfectly in
raptures with her new lodgings, and every person and thing which they
contained. The drawing-rooms were fitted with the greatest taste; the
dinner was exquisite. Were there ever such delicious veal-cutlets, such
verdant French beans? "Why do we have thos