"I know her kind," thought Aunt Church. "I have aired beds for quality of that sort, and I have watched them when they danced in the big ballroom, and watched them, too, when their sweethearts came along, and seen--oh, yes, many, many things have I seen, and many, many things have I heard of those fair young ladies of quality. She belongs to them, and she likes that good-for-nothing, pert little Susy Hopkins! Yet it don't matter to me. Susy shall have my good graces if she has secured those of Miss Kathleen O'Hara." Accordingly, Mrs. Church changed her tactics. She praised Susy in honeyed words to the visitor. "A good little girl, miss, and deserving of anything that those who are better off can do for her. She is a great help to her mother.--Mary Hopkins, come nigh, dear. You are very fond of your Susy, aren't you?" "Of course I am," said Mrs. Hopkins in an affectionate voice. Susy longed to keep up her anger, but she could not. She was soon smiling and flushing. "And what a neat little bodice my Susy is wearing!" said Mrs. Church. "And bought with her own hard-earned savings. You wouldn't think so, would you, miss?" "It gives her great credit," said Kathleen in a calm voice. "I like people to wear smart clothes, don't you, Mrs. Church? If you lived on our estate, I would dress you myself. I love to see our old ladies gaily dressed. On Christmas Day they come to the castle and have dinner as well as tea. It is wonderful how smart they look." "They are very lucky ladies--very lucky," said Mrs. Church. "They don't wear old bombazine like this, do they?" "Your dress suits you very well, indeed," said Kathleen; "but my old ladies wear velveteen dresses. They save them, of course. We don't want them to be extravagant; but they always come up to the castle in velveteen dresses, with white caps, and white collars round their necks; and they look very nice. They have a happy time." "I am sure they have, miss." "Yes, they have a very happy time. They want for nothing. There was an old lady belonging to our house who left a certain sum of money, and the old ladies get it between them. They get six shillings a week each, and a dear little house to live in. We are obliged to supply them with as much coal as they want, and candles, and a new pair of blankets on the first of every November, and a bale of unbleached calico on the first of May. You can't think how comfortable they are. And then, of course, we throw in a lot of extra things--the black velveteen dresses, and other garments of the same quality." "It must be a wonderful place to live in. Is it very difficult to get into one of these houses, missy?" "I don't know. Would you like to come?" "That I would." "I'll write to father and ask him if you may." "Miss, it would be wonderful."