She could not even take an airing, however, without some discussion with Miss Granger. That young lady was established in the drawing-room--the vast foreign chamber, which never looked like a home--illuminating a new set of Gothic texts for the adornment of her school. She sorely missed the occupation and importance afforded her by the model village. In Paris there was no one afraid of her; no humble matrons to quail as her severe eyes surveyed wall and ceiling, floor and surbase. And being of a temperament which required perpetual employment, she was fain to fall back upon illumination, Berlin-wool work, and early morning practice of pianoforte music of the most strictly mathematical character. It was her boast that she had been thoroughly "grounded" in the science of harmony; but although she could have given a reason for every interval in a sonata, her playing never sparkled into brilliancy or melted into tenderness, and never had her prim cold fingers found their way to a human soul. "Are you going out so early?" this wise damsel asked wonderingly, as Clarissa came into the drawing-room in her bonnet and shawl. "Yes, it is such a fine morning, and I think baby will enjoy it. I have not had a drive with him since we have been here." "No," replied Sophia, "you have only had papa. I shouldn't think he would be very much flattered if he heard you preferred baby." "I did not say that I preferred baby, Sophia. What a habit you have of misrepresenting me!" The nurse appeared at this moment, carrying the heir of the Grangers, gloriously arrayed in blue velvet, and looking fully conscious of his magnificence. "But I do like to have a drive with my pet-lamb, don't I, darling?" said the mother, stooping to kiss the plump rosy cheek. And then there followed some low confidential talk, in the fond baby language peculiar to young mothers. "I should have thought you would have been glad to get a morning alone, for once in a way," remarked Sophia, coming over to the baby, and giving him a stately kiss. She liked him tolerably well in her own way, and was not angry with him for having come into the world to oust her from her proud position as sole heiress to her father's wealth. The position had been very pleasant to her, and she had not seen it slip away from her without many a pang; but, however she might dislike Clarissa, she was not base enough to hate her father's child. If she could have had the sole care and management of him, physicked and dieted him after her own method, and developed the budding powers of his infant mind by her favourite forcing system--made a model villager of him, in short--she might have grown even to love him. But these privileges being forbidden to her--her wisdom being set at naught, and her counsel rejected--she could not help regarding Lovel Granger as more or less an injury. "I should have thought you would have been glad of a morning at home, Clarissa," she repeated.