"Why, _Gatty_!" said I, as we plodded over the Moor, "I had no Notion you didn't live in _Larkfield_!" "But we do," said she, "in _Larkfield_ Parish. We live in the Foreign, though not in the Borough. Didn't I ever tell you that? When my _Father_ died, we gave up our Town-House, which was twenty Pounds by the Year, and took this, which is but fifteen." It seemed to me a lonesome Situation enough; however, a large, cheerful Family prevents any House from seeming lonely; and soon we were in a snug, well-warmed, well-lighted Room. They were all very glad to see me; _Gatty's_ Sisters were tall, lanky Girls, nothing to compare in Point of Looks with herself; but they seemed very sociable and merry, and their _Mother_ was a quiet, kind-spoken Woman, whom I should never have guessed for a Kinswoman, however remote, of Lady _Betty's_. _Gatty_ and I slept together, and talked a good Deal before we slept. She was quite strong and well now, but seemed more reluctant than ever to go back to Lady _Betty_; and I thought she seemed building on some vague Hope of getting taken by Mrs. _Arbuthnot_. I could see she liked her Country Home best of all, but felt she had no Right to stay. Next Day, we took a brisk Walk over the hard frozen Ground. The Trees being leafless, and the Sky threatening Snow, I thought the Country had a dreary Look with it; but the young People were so gay that one could not be dreary in their Presence; and we came Home to our hot roast Mutton with red Noses, blue Fingers, and tip-top Spirits. We were to spend the Evening at _Roaring House_, which I found was where Mr. _Heavitree_ lived. All the Afternoon the Girls were ironing clean Cuffs, and making cherry-coloured Top-knots.