of all the daughters, who came in a little crowd, each rising from her corner to hail the great lady. One of them drew the cosiest chair near the fire for her, another gave her an embroidered hand-screen to shield her face from its glow, and the third hung about her in silent admiration, eagerly looking for some similar service to render. Myra followed last of all, rushing audibly downstairs, and bursting into the room with eager exclamations of pleasure. “I saw the pony-carriage at the Rectory gate, and I hoped you were coming here,” cried Myra; who stopped short suddenly, however, and blushed and laughed at sight of the stranger whom she had not perceived. “This is Mr. Earnshaw, Myra,” said Lady Mary, “whom I told you of--who is going to be so good as to teach us. I am taking him to see some of the ladies whom he is to help to educate.” “Please don’t convey a false impression,” said Edgar. “You are all a hundred times better educated than I am. I don’t make any such pretensions.” “We are not educated at all,” said Sissy Witherington, folding her hands, with a soft sigh. She said it because Lady Mary said it, and because soft sighs were the natural expression of a young heart blighted; but I don’t think she would have liked to hear the same sentiment from any one else. “Indeed, I think it is extremely disagreeable of you all to say so,” said Mrs. Witherington, “and a reflection on your parents, who did the very best they could for you. I am sure your education, which you despise so, cost quite as much, at least for the last year or two, as the boys’ did. I beg your pardon, Lady Mary--but I do think it is a little hard upon the older people, all these fine ideas that are being put into the girls’ heads.” “But, dear Mrs. Witherington, how could you help it?” said the rebel chief. “The very idea of educating women is a modern invention; nobody so much as thought of it in the last generation. Women have never been educated. My mother thought exactly the same as you do. There was absolutely _no_ education for women in her day.” “Well,” said Mrs. Witherington, more erect than ever, “I had an idea once that I myself was an educated person, and I daresay so had the countess--till my children taught me better.” “I declare it is hard on mamma,” cried Myra; “the only one among us who can write a decent hand, or do anything that’s useful.” “Of course nobody means that,” said Lady Mary. “What I say is that every generation ought to improve and make progress, if there is to be any amelioration in the world at all; and as, fortunately, there has sprung up in our day an increased perception of the advantages of education--”