'But it is her nature to be affected,' said Nan. 'She is quite true to herself. That is her disposition. It wouldn't be natural for her to try not to be affected. She was born with that disposition. Look at the idiotic grimaces that infants make when they try to show they are pleased. And Mrs. ---- wouldn't be herself at all if she wasn't affected. She might as well try to leave off her affectations as her clothes. She couldn't go about without any.' 'She goes about with precious little,' said Mr. Tom, who strongly disapproved of scanty ball-dresses. And then he added, 'But that's Nan all over. She's always for making the best of everything and everybody. It's always the best possible world with her.' 'And isn't that wise,' said Frank King, with a laugh, 'considering it's the only one we've got to live in at present?' Nan was very bright and cheerful during this dinner, and Captain Frank King was most markedly attentive to her, and interested in her talking. When Nan began to speak, he seemed to consider that the whole table ought to listen; and his was the first look that approved, and the first laugh that followed. Then he discovered that she knew all sorts of out-of-the-way things that an ordinary young lady could by no possibility have been expected to know. It was more than ever clear to him that these solitary wanderings had taught her something. Where had she acquired all this familiarity, for example, with details about his own profession--or what had been his profession? They went on to talk of the jeers of cabmen at each other, and how sharp some of them were. Then again they began to talk about other common sayings--the very origin of which had been forgotten; and Frank King spoke of a taunt which was an infallible recipe for driving a bargee mad--'_Who choked the boy with duff?_'--though nobody, not the bargees themselves, now knew anything whatever about the tragic incident that must have happened sometime and somewhere. 'Yes,' said Nan at once, 'and there is another like that that the collier-boats can't stand. If you call out to a collier, "_There's a rat in your chains_" he'd drive his schooner ashore to get after you.' 'I suppose you have tried,' said her mother, with calm dignity. 'I believe Nan spends most of her time,' said the Beauty, 'in making mud-pies with the boys in Shoreham Harbour.' 'Never you mind, Nan,' her brother said to encourage her. 'Next time we go to Newhaven, you'll call out to the colliers, "_There's a rat in your chains_," and I'll stop behind a wall and watch them beating you.'