the roundness, and softness, and whiteness, and rosiness of youth. She saw the girl’s awe-stricken looks at herself, and was amused, and even a little flattered, by Lizzie’s admiration,--and being weary of silence, began to draw her out. It was chiefly from Lizzie’s account that Kate identified all the movements of the house, and found out the hours at which Mrs Mitford visited the schools, and when she went to see her poor people. “When she leaves you, miss, to have a little rest after your dinner, it’s time for the school,” said Lizzie. “Missis never misses a day, not so long as I can remember, except now and again, when Mr John’s been ill.” “Is Mr John often ill?” said Kate. “Oh no, miss; never, so to speak; but missis makes an idol of him. Mother thinks as she makes too much an idol on him. He’s her only son, like--it aint like having nine or ten, as most folks have,” said Lizzie, apologetically, as she arranged the little table by Kate’s bed-side, where there was, as usual, a bouquet of John’s roses, freshly gathered. “That is true,” said Kate, with a laugh which Lizzie could not understand. “But I’d rather have one like Mr John, than a dozen like most folks,” Lizzie added, with energy; “most of ’em in the village is nought but trouble to them they belongs to. It’s hard to tell of ’em what they’re made for, them big lads. One’ll go poaching and idling, till ye don’t know what to do with ’um; and another ’ll list, and break his folks’s hearts. Mother says they’re a cross, but I think as they’re worse than a cross--drinking, and fighting, and quarrelling, and never good for nought. And them as is steady goes away, and you don’t get no good o’ them. You may laugh, miss, as don’t know no better--but there are folks as can’t laugh.” “I did not laugh, Lizzie,” said Kate. “I am very sorry--but why are you so serious about it? I hope the girls are better than the lads.” “Mother says we’ve haven’t got the same temptations,” said Lizzie, dubiously; “but she’s old, you know, miss, and I dare to say she don’t think on. I’ve got four brothers, all idler the one nor the other. And if I don’t know, I don’ know who should. Mother she’s a good woman, and I hope we’ll all pass for her sake--but missis, she never hears a cross word from Mr John.” “A cross word, indeed!” said Kate; “that would be unpardonable--and she such a darling. He ought to be proud of having a mother like that. I am very fond of her myself.” “He’s as proud as Punch, miss,” said Lizzie, “and missis she’s proud of him. When he’s at home he’s always by to walk wi’ her and talk with her. Master, he’s that learned ye never know what to make of him. They say as he’s the biggest scholard in all Huntingshire. It aint to be expected as he would just take his little walks, and make it pleasant like a common man.” “And what does Mrs Mitford do when Mr John is away?” said Kate, a little doubtful of the propriety of asking so many questions, but too curious to let the opportunity slip.