The poor, tired child had some formidable obstacles in her future path. Lotty and she would have nothing in common--Lotty, with her bridge and her cigarettes, her society jargon, her _set_, would be terribly embarrassed by this simple, innocent creature. His wife’s opinions were decided, her tongue was persuasive, her will inflexible. He had drifted into allowing her to gently lead, to manage, and to set him a little on one side, because he had not cared. Now he had something to care for and protect. He must stand between Lottie, and a girl who embodied many of Lottie’s especial aversions--a girl who was a mere child of nature, outspoken, impulsive, uncouth. Joseline and her father, having dined at the Euston Hotel, made their way down to Ashstead. It was past nine o’clock, a dark, windy night, when they arrived outside the gusty station, where a fine equipage, with two moon-like lamps, awaited them. As she was conducted to her carriage, the girl felt as if she were a second Cinderella going to the ball. They drove away rapidly, Joseline sitting erect, her heart beating with nervousness; her father took her little cold hand, and held it in silence. When they stopped at a pair of great gates, which opened noiselessly and swung back of their own accord as the carriage dashed through, he said-- “This is Ashstead--my dear--your home.” “Father,” she gasped, “I am mortally in dread. I feel as if I was going to be killed, or married, when I think of meeting all these grand strangers. I declare I’d like to get out of the carriage, and run in and hide under the hedge.” “My dear, I assure you there is nothing to alarm you.” “It’s her ladyship and the young lady that terrifies me, when I think of them.” “Her ladyship is prepared to welcome you warmly. She is----” (What could he say to encourage this trembling creature?) “She is--most sweet-tempered, and full of tact.” “Tact! What is tact?” “A--the knack of saying the right thing, and keeping quiet at the right time.” “Oh, laws! then she is just the black opposite to me! And the young one?” “I feel sure you and Tito will be as sisters; she has often wished for a companion. She will show you all sorts of things, and tell you what to do.” “I suppose she has had a grand education?” “Yes, chiefly abroad. I am afraid she did not make the most of her advantages; her spelling is shocking.” “Oh! Well, anyhow, I can spell,” declared Joseline, with a gulp. “It is the other things--the tip-top talking, and the sailing about a room, and the hand-shaking, and looking people over from their shoes up. I watched the ladies in the hotel. You see, I just clump about, and hitch myself on to anything, and say, ‘What way are ye the day?’”