“I don’t believe a word of what that old woman says. Lady Leslie, indeed! Lady Leslie was not five-and-twenty when she died, poor thing. Stand out of the way, Grace, don’t come so close. You may be sure you shall see it all--and no girl understands lace. It might be her mother’s? Dear me, what a memory you have got, Grace! She had no mother. She would never have married poor papa if there had been a mother to look after her. Thank Providence, Margaret will be better off. This affliction,” said Mrs. Bellingham, with solemnity, “which is so sad for all of us, will not be without its good side for poor little neglected Margaret. Though whether it is not too late to make any change in her--” “She is very nice-looking,” said Miss Grace, “and being pretty covers a great deal--at least as long as you are young.” “Pretty! None of the Leslies were ever ugly,” said her sister; “but it breaks my heart to look at her. Neither education nor manners. She might be a country lass at the meanest farm; she might be a fisher-girl mending nets-- Grace, I wish you would sometimes let me get in a word! It’s melancholy to see her running about in those cotton frocks, and think that she is my father’s daughter. We will have our hands full with chat girl. Now this is old Flanders--there is not very much of it. I remember it as well as if I had seen it yesterday, on old Aunt Jean.” “Then that should be yours, for you were her name-daughter--” “Grace, how can you be so Scotch! Say godchild--you can always say godchild--it sounds a great deal better!” “But we were not English Church people when we were born, and there’s no godmo--” “I think there never was such a clatter in this world!” cried Mrs. Bellingham. “Talk--talk--one cannot get in a word! I know papa’s old-fashioned ways as well as you do, but why should we publish them? What would anybody think at the Court if it was known that we were Presbyterians--not that I ever was a Presbyterian after I was old enough to think for myself.” “It was being at school,” said Grace; “and a great trouble it was to have to drive all the way to Fifetown on Sundays, instead of going to Dr. Burnside. You were married, it didn’t matter for you; but--do you mean to have Aubrey down, Jean, after all?”