But then of course there's another side to the matter. If the husbands have got to be polite and gentle to their wives, the wives have got to be polite and gentle to their husbands. I have known wives who'd speak to their husbands in a tone like the screech of an engine-whistle. And that, to say the least of the matter, isn't pretty! Well,—to come back to our tea that afternoon! Unhappy as Mr. Russell was, he managed to eat plenty. He said he had never in his life tasted such bread as ours, and he praised our milk and our butter and the jam, as if he hadn't had food worth eating before. I thought it kind of him; though to be sure I never do hold with a lot of talking about the food we eat. It's right to be thankful for nice things, but there's plenty that's better worth talking about than eatables. He told us next a few things about himself and his sister. They had been orphans since his boyhood; and they had no near relations in the world. She was like a mother to him always. Till lately they had lived in Bristol; but at that time Mr. Russell was schoolmaster in a National School at Littleburgh, which was a small manufacturing town at no great distance from Claxton—an hour or so by rail. His sister took in dressmaking, for she was a capital worker, clever with her fingers. But she hadn't so much work yet at Littleburgh, where they were almost strangers, as in Bristol, where they had had many friends. I thought it so good of her to leave all her friends, that she might make a home for him in a new place. When I said so, he said, "Ah, yes, just like Mary, poor dear!" One or two things that he let drop made me fancy they or their parents must have known better times. At all events, I felt sure he was very superior and very clever. If not, how could he have been a schoolmaster? That gave me a sort of respect for him. He said his sister had taken care he should have a good education, and he spoke so nicely and feelingly about repaying what he owed to her. A time would come, he said,—perhaps soon,—when she would not need to work, but would only depend upon him. I couldn't help thinking what a good brother he must be! CHAPTER III. TWO OF THEM. TALKING to father and me, Mr. Russell grew lively; and once mother came to the kitchen door, with her finger up, and a "Hush!" for Mr. Russell had raised his voice too much. I wondered a little that he could forget so soon, when he was so fond of his sister. And yet I liked him. I could not help liking him. Now and then he seemed quite young; and then, again, he spoke as if he was older. I was puzzled; but after a time he told us he was twenty-four, and his sister was thirty-two; so that settled the matter. "She's a good sister to me—always has been. I shouldn't think a chap ever had a better sister," he said, and a sort of cloud came over his face, as if all at once he remembered something that he had managed to forget. "Then I hope you're a good brother to her," father said.