y when they are not well off?"

"Well, dear, generally when they require the money. You could not expect
young Mr. Warrender to come here and take a great deal of trouble,
merely for the pleasure of teaching you."

"Why not?" said Geoff. "Isn't it a fine thing to teach children? It was
you that said so, mamma."

"For me, dear, that am your mother; but not for a gentleman who is not
even a relation."

"Gentlemen, to be sure, are different," said Geoff, with an air of
deliberation. "There's papa, for instance----"

His mother threw up her hand suddenly. "Hark, Geoff! Do you hear
anything?"

They had come indoors while this talk was going on, and were now seated
in a large but rather shabby sitting-room, which was full of Geoff's
toys and books. The windows were wide open, but the sounds from without
came in subdued; for this room was at the back of the house, and at
some distance from the avenue. They were both silent for some moments,
listening, and then Lady Markland said, with an air of relief, "Papa is
coming. I hear the sound of the phaeton."

"That is not the phaeton, mamma; that is only one horse," said Geoff,
whose senses were very keen. When Lady Markland had listened a little
longer, she acquiesced in this opinion.

"It will be some one coming to call," she said, with an air of
resignation; and then they went on with their talk.

"Gentlemen are different; they don't take the charge of the children
like you. However, in books," said Geoff, "the fathers very often are a
great deal of good; they tell you all sorts of things. But books are not
very like real life; do you think they are? Even Frank, in Miss Edgeworth,
though you say he is so good, doesn't do things like me. I mean, I should
never think of doing things like him; and no little girl would ever be
so silly. Now, mamma, say true, what do you think? Would any little girl
ever be so silly as to want the big bottle out of a physic shop? Girls
may be silly, but not so bad as that."

"Perhaps, let us hope, she didn't know so much about physic shops, as
you call them, as you do, my poor boy. I wonder who can be calling
to-day, Geoff! I should have thought that everybody near would be
thinking of the Warrenders, and---- It is coming very fast, don't you
think? But it does not sound like the phaeton."

"Oh no, it is not the phaeton. I'll go and look," said Geoff. He came
back in a moment, crying, "I told you--it's a brougham! Coming at such a
pace!"