“I am sorry for that, miss; but I meant how the cross-corners did, for poor Mrs. Fussicome was in such a way. The jelly would not stand, and it looked so shocking bad when it was in the dish, that what did we do but beat up some raspberry cream in no time, and sent it in instead; but then it made two reds at the cross-corners; but I should hope nobody noticed it.” “I am sure I did not, nurse, and I don’t think mamma did; at least she said nothing about it. Every thing looked very nice, tell Mrs. Fussicome.” “Yes, miss, that I will, for she has been quite put out about it; she said she could not enjoy her supper a bit, and she thought the soufflet was not quite right.” “Mamma did not say any thing about it: indeed she saw no faults in the dinner, they were all in me. How I do wish I had not such spirits. I mean to be so quiet and demure, and as soon as the people begin to talk to me I forget. I do really believe Lord Montreville is very good-natured, and will not think the worse of me.” “La! miss, I’m sure your mamma can’t think there is any harm in talking and laughing with such an old gentleman.” “He is not so very old, Milly,” answered Lucy, though if Milly had not said so, she might have been the first to say it herself. About one o’clock the next morning, Lord Montreville arrived at Rose Hill Lodge, and was surprised to find Lucy shy, reserved, timid, and rather awkward. Mrs. Heckfield, anxious to efface from Lord Montreville’s mind all impressions concerning the kennel, and the stables, and the dog-hutches, led his attention to the flower garden, which was remarkably pretty, and to her small conservatory, which was in excellent order, at the same time taking care to let him know that the disposition of the flower-beds was according to Lucy’s taste, that Lucy had arranged the vases in the manner which excited his admiration, that the training of the creepers in festoons from one tree to another was Lucy’s fancy. She pointed out a beautiful new geranium which had been named after her little “madcap Lucy; for madcap as she is, Lord Montreville, she has a decided taste for botany and that kind of thing,” added Mrs. Heckfield, with a sweet smile at Lucy, who certainly that morning had not deserved the name of “madcap.”