“You amaze me,” said Mrs. Ricketts, who was determined on being instructed in horticulture. “There's a fellow now, with a bundle of moss-roses for Nelly, and there's another putting out the parrot's cage under a tree,----that's the day's work for both of them.” “Are you not happy to think how your ample means diffuse ease and enjoyment on all round you? Don't tell me that the pleasure you feel is not perfect ecstasy.” “That's one way of considering it,” said Dalton, dubiously, for he was not quite sure whether he could or could not yield his concurrence. “But if people did n't la-la-la--” “Lay abed, you mean,” cried Dalton; “that's just what they do; a German wouldn't ask to awake at all, if it wasn't to light his pipe.” “I meant la-la-labor; if they did n't la-labor the ground, we should all be starved.” “No political economy, Scroope,” cried Mrs. Ricketts; “I will not permit it. That dreadful science is a passion with him, Mr. Dal ton.” “Is it?” said Peter, confusedly, to whose ears the word “economy” only suggested notions of saving and sparing. “I can only say,” added he, after a pause, “tastes differ, and I never could abide it at all.” “I was certain of it,” resumed Mrs. Ricketts; “but here comes a young lady towards us,--Miss Dalton, I feel it must be.” The surmise was quite correct. It was Nelly, who, in expectation of meeting her father, had walked down from the house, and now, seeing a carriage, stood half irresolute what to do. “Yes, that's Nelly,” cried Dalton, springing down to the ground; “she'll be off now, for she thinks it's visitors come to see the place.” While Dalton hastened to overtake his daughter, Mrs. Ricketts had time to descend and shake out all her plumage,--a proceeding of manual dexterity to which Martha mainly contributed; indeed, it was almost artistic in its way, for while feathers were disposed to droop here, and lace taught to fall gracefully there, the fair Zoe assumed the peculiar mood in which she determined on conquest. “How do I look, Martha?” said she, bridling up, and then smiling. “Very sweetly,--quite charming,” replied Martha. “I know that,” said the other, pettishly; “but am I maternal,--am I affectionate?” “Very maternal,----most affectionate,” was the answer. “You're a fool!” said Mrs. Ricketts, contemptuously; but had barely time to restore her features to their original blandness, when Nelly came up. The few words in which her father had announced Mrs. Ricketts spoke of her as one who had known and been kind to Kate, and Nelly wanted no stronger recommendation to her esteem.