consciousness of ignorance and inexperience--a state of mind, to his thinking, eminently becoming in the untrained girl he had honoured by selecting as his wife. It happened, unfortunately, too, that just at this time there was considerably less than usual "going on" in the Winsley neighbourhood. Of the adjacent families whom Gertrude thought fit to visit some were still in town, some had illness among them--nearly all, from one reason or another, were _hors de combat_ with respect of dinner-parties, picnics, croquet, and the like. And in a general way the neighbourhood was remarkably sociable and friendly, and would have been very ready to make a nine days' pet of the pretty bride, provided Mrs Eyrecourt had given it to be understood that such attention to her sister-in-law would be agreeable to herself, for Gertrude managed to "queen it" to a considerable extent over society in her part of the county. "You will have rather an unfavourable idea of Winsley in one respect, I fear, Eugenia," said Mrs Eyrecourt, one day. "I mean you must think it very dull. But nearly all our neighbours are still away. A month or two hence it will be quite different." "I don't care about gaiety much, thank you," replied Eugenia. "I have never been accustomed to it, and I can feel quite as happy without it." "You are very philosophical," said Gertrude. "But I am surprised to hear you say you have not been accustomed to that sort of thing. I always understood that up among the Cottonocracy there were all sorts of grand doings; overwhelmingly magnificent dinner-parties and balls, and so on." "I dare say there are," replied Eugenia, "but we never went to them. My father very seldom let us go anywhere, except to intimate friends like Mrs Dalrymple." "Oh indeed!" said Gertrude, and in her own mind she thought, "These Laurences considered themselves too good for Wareborough society, it appears. How absurd people are!" On the whole, the pleasantest part of Eugenia's days at Winsley was the half-hour in the morning when Floss joined her in her stroll in the garden, or on wet days in her own room. The stories went on at a great rate, and after she had exhausted all those relating to her own childhood Eugenia had to ransack her memory, and sometimes even to set her inventive powers to work. All seemed equally delightful to Floss. The child had never been so happy in her life, and to Eugenia the consciousness of having gained the little girl's affection was very sweet. End of Volume Two. VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER ONE. ROMA'S SENTIMENTS. And if thy wife and thou agree But ill, as like when short of victual. T. Carlyle, _The Beetle_. Il m'est impossible de ne point tous feliciter. _Les Miserables_.