Birthday greetings, congratulations, and thanks followed, and the mother looked critically at the position of the wreath, and Rachel for the first time turned to the glass and met a set of features of an irregular, characteristic cast, brow low and broad, nose retrousse, with large, singularly sensitive nostrils quivering like those of a high-bred horse at any emotion, full pouting lips, round cheeks glowing with the freshest red, eyes widely opened, dark deep grey and decidedly prominent, though curtained with thick black lashes. The glossy chestnut hair partook of the redundance and vigour of the whole being, and the roses hung on it gracefully though not in congruity with the thick winter dress of blue and black tartan, still looped up over the dark petticoat and hose, and stout high-heeled boots, that like the grey cloak and felt hat bore witness to the early walk. Grace’s countenance and figure were in the same style, though without so much of mark or animation; and her dress was of like description, but less severely plain. “Yes, my dear, it looks very well; and now you will oblige me by not wearing that black lace thing, that looks fit for your grandmother.” “Poor Lovedy Kelland’s aunt made it, mother, and it was very expensive, and wouldn’t sell.” “No wonder, I am sure, and it was very kind in you to take it off their hands; but now it is paid for, it can’t make much difference whether you disfigure yourself with it or not.” “Oh yes, dear mother, I’ll bind my hair when you bid me do it and really these buds do credit to the makers. I wonder whether they cost them as dear in health as lace does,” she added, taking off the flowers and examining them with a grave sad look. “I chose white roses,” proceeded the well-pleased mother, “because I thought they would suit either of the silks you have now, though I own I should like to see you in another white muslin.” “I have done with white muslin,” said Rachel, rousing from her reverie. “It is an affectation of girlish simplicity not becoming at our age.” “Oh Rachel!” thought Grace in despair; but to her great relief in at that moment filed the five maids, the coachman, and butler, and the mother began to read prayers. Breakfast over, Rachel gathered up her various gifts, and betook herself to a room on the ground floor with all the appliances of an ancient schoolroom. Rather dreamily she took out a number of copy-books, and began to write copies in them in large text hand.