Barbara Stafford blushed also: she had given pain, yet that very fact deepened her interest in the youth. "Forgive me, but you have not been reared without care; some one must have taken great interest in you." "It may be so, but I never have been able to find that person out; my education went on as a matter of course; a lawyer of London paid the bills, gave me lots of advice, but refused me the least information regarding myself. When I had gone through the different grades of study thought requisite for a gentleman, the old barrister deposited a couple of thousand pounds in the hands of Sir William Phipps, which he told me was my entire patrimony, and sent me out here as secretary to the governor. In Sir William Phipps's house, I have known for the first time in my life what the word home meant." Barbara looked earnestly at the youth as he gave this brief account of himself, but she made no further observation, for they had reached the streets of Boston, and from the novelty of the scene, or some deeper cause, she grew silent and walked forward with a reluctant, heavy step, apparently forgetful of the questions she had been asking. CHAPTER XVII. A LOVERS' QUARREL. Lady Phipps met her guest in the hall bright, cheerful, and full of hospitable gladness. Elizabeth Parris followed her, but hung back a little, shy of the strange lady, who moved like a princess, and smiled so strangely as she uttered the common-places expected of a courteous guest. Lady Phipps went chatting and smiling up the staircase a little in advance of her visitor, for she would not allow a servant to attend her to the spacious guest chamber. Lovel and Elizabeth stayed below, watching the two ladies as they mounted the stairs together. When Elizabeth turned her eyes on Lovel, there was something in his face that troubled her. "Isn't she a noble-looking woman?" he asked, in an eager undertone. "Perhaps--no, indeed I don't think her in the least beautiful," answered the spoiled child, with a pout of the red lips and a pretty toss of the head; "besides--" "Why, Elizabeth, you are in a pet about something--I don't like that way of speaking about my friends." "You never saw her but once in your life!" said Elizabeth, with a flush of the whole face, "still you look, you--I declare one would think there was not another person in the wide world, from the way you look after her." "Ah, do I--you see it, I really cannot keep my eyes from her face." "At any rate it is not a handsome face!" cried Elizabeth, flushing more and more redly. "You have never seen her when she was talking, when she was really pleased--then her face changes so brightly--so--so--" "I don't want to hear her talk--I don't care whether she is pleased or not--I only know this--she is not in the least beautiful, and is old enough to be your mother--there!"