“Well, upon my word, you are a witch of Endor, or something,” said Miss Lydia, whose turn it was to begin the duet; “for dear Tom rode down to tell us only this morning. He is so considerate, dear Tom; and I am sure there never was such a stepfather,—to think of all he means to do, just as if Charley was his own son and heir,” cried Miss Louisa, who was scarcely able to keep in time for want of breath. “His own son and heir, if he had one, need not to make so much commotion, my dears,” said Miss Amelia, administering with great goodwill a friendly snub; “there is a difference, you know, between Fontanel and the manor-house. I suppose there will be a dinner of the tenantry, and all that. There couldn’t, you know, much as your family is respected in the county, be much of that sort of thing at Summerhayes.” “My dear, you know Amelia always speaks her mind,” said Miss Harwood; “you don’t mind what she says? I am sure I hope poor Charley will have a good day for his _fête_, and that everything will go off well. I daresay they will all feel a little strange on such a day, to think of all the changes that have happened. I remember, as if it were yesterday, the day he was born; and oh how happy poor Mary was!” “I am sure she ought to be a great deal happier now,” said Miss Laura, with a toss of her head, “if she were sensible enough to see her advantages. Dear Tom makes himself a slave to her, and spends all his strength upon the estate; and then never to get any thanks for it. I declare, to hear how you speak is enough to make one hate the world,” said Miss Lydia, with the usual joint disregard of punctuation. “But, Miss Harwood, you always take Mary’s side.” “I didn’t know we were come so far as to take sides,” said Miss Amelia, dryly; “Mary never takes her own side, that’s clear. She tries to please everybody, poor soul; to make her husband happy by letting him suppose himself the master of Fontanel,—and to make her son happy by making believe he’s all right and in his natural place; and what’s to come of it all after Charley comes of age is more than I can tell; for Charley’s a boy of spirit, though he’s devoted to his mother, and it’s hard never to have anything to say in one’s own affairs. A woman may submit to it, perhaps, but a young man is very different,” said Miss Amelia, with great gravity, breaking off with an emphatic jerk the last end of her thread.