George Harding whistled softly, and then plunged into his hashed mutton. He made but one remark, but that he repeated twice. "I told him to beware of swells. God knows I warned him. I told him to beware of swells." That same night Mrs. Churchill told her husband of the visit she had had. "I'm so glad!" said Frank. "I knew old George would send his wife first. Well, what do you think of Mrs. Harding, Barbara?" "Oh, I've no doubt she meant every thing kindly, Frank," said Barbara, "She's--she's a right-meaning kind of woman, Frank, no doubt; but she's--she's not my style, you know." Frank was dashed. "I don't exactly understand, dear. She was perfectly friendly?" "Oh, perfectly! But she asked me all sorts of curious questions about the tradespeople, and the housekeeping, and that. So strange, you know." "I confess I don't see any thing strange so far. She offered you the benefit of her experience, did she? Well, that was kind; and what was wanted, I think." "Oh, I'm sorry you think it was wanted," said Barbara. "I didn't think any thing had gone wrong in the house." "No, my darling, of course not," said Frank "nothing--all is quite right. But, you know, housekeeping is Mrs. Harding's strong point; and young beginners like ourselves might learn from her with advantage. I think we must lay ourselves out for instruction in several matters, Barbara darling, from such persons as Mrs. Harding and my mother." And Barbara said, "Oh, yes, of course." And Frank did not notice that her little shoulders went up, and the corners of her little mouth went down, and her eyes sparkled in a manner which did not promise much docility on the part of one of the pupils thus to be instructed.