“You see, I have always been a drag on him, I and my little girl,” she went on, with a soft sigh, “so that he was not able to help when he wanted to help. And then Mr. Earnshaw came in, and did all, and more than all, that Charles could have hoped to do. For this we can never think too highly of him, never be grateful enough.” “It was what any fellow would have done,” interrupted Harry, putting his head forward. He did not know what he was saying. And Lady Mary, suddenly looking at him, took fright. “Thank you so much for telling me this,” she said, rising. “I am so glad to hear another good thing of Mr. Earnshaw who is one of my first favourites. For his sake you must let me know if there is anything I can do to make you comfortable. Harry, it is time for us to go; it will be quite dark in the avenue. Pardon me, Dr. Murray, but I don’t know your sister’s name; foolishly, I never thought to ask?” “Mrs. Smith,” said Dr. Charles, as they both got up, filling the little dark room with their tall figures. Harry did not know how he made his exit. One moment, it seemed to him he was surrounded with an atmosphere of light and sadness from those wonderful blue eyes, and the next he was driving along the darkling road, with the sound of the wheels and the ponies’ hoofs ringing all about him, and unsympathetic laughter breaking from under Lady Mary’s veil by his side. “Mrs. Smith!” she cried; “what a prodigious anti-climax! It was all I could do to keep my gravity till I got outside. That wonderful creature with such eyes, and her pretty plaintive voice. It is too absurd. Mrs. Smith!” “You seem to enjoy the joke!” said Harry, stiffly, feeling offended. “Enjoy the joke! don’t you? But it was rather a shock than a joke. What a pretty woman! what a pretty voice! It reminds me of blue-bells and birch trees, and all kinds of pleasant things in Burns and Scott. But Mrs. Smith! And how that lamp smelt! My dear Harry, I wish you would be a little more cautious, or else give me the reins. I don’t want to be upset in the mud. Mrs. Smith!” “You seem to be mightily amused,” said Harry, more gruff than ever. “Yes, considerably; but I see you don’t share my amusement,” said Lady Mary, still more amused at this sudden outburst of temper, or propriety, or whatever it might be. “I always thought you were very sympathetic, Aunt Mary,” said the young man, with a tone of dignified reproof. “It is one of the words you ladies use to express nothing particular, I suppose? The girls are always dinning it into my ears.” “And you think I don’t come up to my character, Harry?” “I don’t understand your joke, I confess,” said Harry, with the loftiest superiority, drawing up at the great hall door. CHAPTER IV. The Education of Women.