"I was educated in a convent in France," she said to Beth. "If you were older you would know that by my handwriting. It is called an Italian hand, but I learnt it in France. I was there five years." "What else did you learn?" said Beth. "Oh--reading. No--I could read before I went. But music, you know, and French." "Say some French," said Beth. "Oh, I can't," Aunt Grace Mary answered. "But I can read it a little, you know." "I should like to hear you play," said Beth. "But I don't play," Aunt Grace Mary rejoined. "I thought you said you learnt music." "Oh yes. I had to learn music; and I practised for hours every day; but I never played." Aunt Grace Mary smiled complacently as she spoke, took off her spectacles, and locked up her writing materials--Beth, the while, thoughtfully observing her. Aunt Grace Mary's hair was a wonderful colour, neither red, yellow, brown, nor white, but a mixture of all four. It was parted straight in the middle, where it was thin, and brought down in two large rolls over her ears. She wore a black velvet band across her head like a coronet, which ended in a large black velvet bow at the back. Long heavy gold ear-rings pulled down the lobes of her ears. All her dresses were of rustling silk, and she had a variety of deep lace-collars, each one of which she fastened with a different brooch at the throat. She also wore a heavy gold watch-chain round her neck, the watch being concealed in her bosom; and jet bracelets by day, but gold ones in the evening. * * * * * Beth was deeply interested in her own family history, and intelligently pieced together such fragments of it as she could collect from the conversations of the people about her. She was sitting in one of the deep window-seats in the drawing-room looking out one day, concealed by a curtain, when her mother and Great-Aunt Victoria Bench came into the room, and settled themselves to chat and sew without observing her. "Where is Grace Mary?" Aunt Victoria asked. "Locked up in her own room writing a letter, I believe," Mrs. Caldwell replied, "a long and mysterious proceeding. We shall not see her again this morning, I suppose." "Ah, well," said Aunt Victoria considerately, "she writes a very beautiful hand." "James thought he was doing so well for himself, too!" Mrs. Caldwell interjected. "He'd better have married the mother."