Aunt Victoria looked round the room; it no longer seemed the same place to her. Beth's cheerful chatter had already driven away the evil spirit of dejection, and taken the old lady out of herself. Untidy child! She had left her work on the floor, her scissors on the bed, disarranged the window-curtain, and upset a chair. If she would not do any more unpicking when she returned, she must be made to put things straight. There was one little easy-chair in the room. Aunt Victoria sat down in it, a great piece of self-indulgence for her at that time of day, folded her hands, and closed her weary old eyes just to give them a rest, while a nice little look of content came into her face, which it was good to see there. When she opened her eyes again, Beth was setting a tray on a tiny table beside her. "I think you've been having a nap, Miss Great-Aunt Victoria Bench," she said. "Now, have some tea! and buttered toast!!" "O Beth!" cried the old lady, beaming. "How could you--at this time of day? Well, to please you. It is quite delicious. So refreshing. What, another piece of toast! Must I take another?" "You must take it all," said Beth. "I made it for you. I do like doing things for you, Aunt Victoria. It makes me feel nice all over. I'll just unpick a little more. Then I'll tidy up." "You're a good child to think of that," said Aunt Victoria. "I did not think you would." "Didn't you?" said Beth. "How funny! But I like things tidy. I often tidy up." "I--I suppose Harriet says tidy up," the old lady observed gently, not liking to be censorious at this happy moment of relaxation, but still anxious to do her duty. Beth understood her perfectly and smiled. "I like you to tell me when I say things wrong," she said; "and I like to know how Harriet talks too. You can't write if you don't know how every one talks." "What are you going to write?" Aunt Victoria asked, taking up another piece of buttered toast. "Oh, books," Beth answered casually. "Write something soul-sustaining then, Beth," said Aunt Victoria. "Try to make all you say soul-sustaining. And never use a word you would be ashamed to hear read aloud." "You mean like those things they read in church?" said Beth. "I don't think I ever could use such words. When Mr. Richardson comes close to them, I get hot all over and hate him. But I promise you, Aunt Victoria, I will never write anything worse than there is in the Bible. There's a man called Ruskin who writes very well, they say, and he learnt how to do it from reading the Bible. His mother taught him when he was a little boy, just as you taught me. I always read the Bible--search the Scriptures--every day. You say it's a sacred book, don't you, Aunt Victoria? Harriet says it's smutty." "Says _what_?" Aunt Victoria exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in her horror. "What does she mean by such an expression?" "Oh, she just means stories like Joseph and Potiphar's wife, David and Bathsheba, Susanna and the elders."