“Why, what is the matter with my pet?” she asked. Agnes looked at Bessie, who promptly answered, “Lally has been very naughty.” “No, Lally not been naughty,” broke in the child, stretching out her arms towards her mother. “Lally only said that fat man was like Doe Cole—and pa hit her—pa did;” and Lally buried her head in her mother’s breast, and wept abundantly. “Arthur did not mean to hurt her,” Agnes explained. “And Lally was very naughty, for she said Joe Cole was a fool,” added Bessie; but, unheeding both the girls’ statements, Heather passed from the room, carrying Lally with her, and appeared no more until supper time, when Bessie noticed that she had been crying. “I wish you would keep that child of yours out of the way of strangers till she has learnt how to behave herself,” Arthur remarked from the foot of the table, with his customary tact and consideration. “She shall not annoy any one again,” said Heather, who had intended to take a private opportunity of apologising to Mr. Black for Lally’s seeming rudeness. “Oh! she did not annoy me, ma’am,” returned that gentleman. “Considered it rather a compliment than otherwise, I assure you. You know the saying, I dare say, that it takes a wise man to act the fool; and I rather think any one who tried to get the better of me would find he had no fool to deal with, Mrs. Dudley.” “When I was at school, uncle, we had a copy text to the effect that ‘Self-praise was no recommendation,’” remarked Bessie; at which speech some of the younger Dudleys tittered audibly—a proceeding that caused Arthur to declare he did not know what the house was coming to. “It is a very charming house,” interposed Mrs. Black, who really, Heather felt, was a perfect blessing to society. “I do not know a house like it anywhere. Every one amongst my friends has heard of Berrie Down Hollow. I always say it seems to me the very abode of peace,—the true cottage of contentment.” “I would very gladly exchange it for your house in town,” answered Arthur. “Or for the same acreage in town,” added Mr. Black. “By Jove, if a man had only one of your fields anywhere about Threadneedle Street or Cornhill, he might snap his fingers at the world.” “Yes; because in that case he would be so rich he could afford to live anywhere,” ventured Heather, to whom such remarks were by no means new; “but, as the land is not in London, why need we think about impossibilities? It is a choice with us between a small income in town and a small income in the country; and you know, Mr. Black, how much farther a small income goes in the country than in town.”