"Miggles," formally known as Miss Miggs, was a well-known character in the Goring _menage_, having been in succession, governess to Jean, housekeeper during the period of Mr Goring's widowerhood, and afterwards governess to the two sons of the second marriage. After so many years of faithful service it seemed impossible to dispense with Miggles's services, and in truth no one wished to do so, for she was one of the cheery souls who carry sunshine as an atmosphere. According to ordinary ideas, Miggles might have grumbled with the best, and demanded a universal toll of sympathy, for she was the most solitary of units--a woman who could not claim relationship with a angle soul in her own hemisphere. She had passed her sixtieth birthday, and despite rigid economies, possessed only a few hundred pounds between herself and want; her health, never strong, showed signs of growing more precarious, and an affection of the eyes shut her off from her loved pastimes of reading and needlework. Nevertheless, Miggles was so far from being depressed by such circumstances, that it had not even occurred to her that she deserved to be pitied. This blessed state of mind had been achieved by no conflict and struggle of the soul--no noble effort of will; religion itself had contributed little towards it. Miggles's disposition was a birthright for which she was seemingly as little responsible as for the colour of her hair. As a child, when circumstances had offered a choice between smiles and tears, she had instinctively elected to smile; as a girl, the mere facts of life and movement had seemed sufficient to ensure complete happiness; while later on she had been so much occupied with being thankful for silver linings that the clouds themselves flitted by attracting but scanty attention. In cheery, non-consequent fashion, _she_ would discourse of her blessings by the hour together. "Now, would you believe it, my dear, not a soul belonging to me nearer than Australia--my nephew Henry, dear boy, but rash--such a pity! always was, from a child. Thomas now--the elder brother--he would always save. My mother was so particular about bringing us up to save. `_Instil_ good principles from the beginning' she would say. But however--what was I talking about? Ah, yes! not a soul nearer than Australia, and _three_ letters by this morning's post. Isn't it wonderful? People are so kind. Really, except Monday, when there was a fashion-book from a shop--I do like seeing the fashions--there's been something on my plate every morning. That's so cheering to begin the day. You know some one has been thinking of you, and caring enough to sit down and write." Jean cast a twinkling glance across the table at Vanna. "What did they want this time, Miggles? I bet anything you like, that every second letter was to beg for something that you have no business to give, and that you were weak enough to say yes all round. Can you deny it?"