By and by card-tables were produced, and people sat down to the good old game of whist. Mrs. Fenchurch, who was not a card-player, came over and seated herself beside her niece, armed with many sharp questions. “Now tell me, dear,” she began, “how do you like your housekeeper? I suppose she has been here for years?” “Yes, I believe so.” “And manages everything?” she demanded. “Yes, Aunt Dorothy.” “Well, mind you don’t let her manage _you_,” she urged with dictatorial emphasis. “Take everything into your own hands. Of course, you have gone over the silver?” “No, not yet.” “Oh, my dear! Nor the house-linen?” “No.” “But, dearest child, you mustn’t get into slack ways, but begin as you intend to go on. Oh, by the way, Tucker came to me _so_ injured, and affronted. Why did you dismiss her?” “Because Hugo didn’t think she was a good maid.” “Good gracious--what can _he_ know about it?” “He knows a good deal, and is very particular. He can’t bear some of my trousseau dresses.” (She might have added, that he had told her to burn them!) “Oh, my dear, what rubbish! You know, I got them at Stile’s, where my mother bought mine--everything _they_ have is always of the very best. Look at this,” indicating her own hideous garment. “If you begin by allowing Hugo to dismiss your maid, and worry about your dresses, I’m sure I don’t know where you will end! You really _must_ learn to assert yourself.” Then she went on to enquire about the neighbours, and who Letty had seen in London? and who had called? and who hadn’t called? and many other tiresome questions. Letty’s pleasantest moments were snatched with her uncle. In his company, her depressed spirits seemed to bubble up to the surface, and she actually laughed. Her husband, who was playing whist, paused to stare at her; it was such an unusual occurrence, and her laugh sounded so merry and girlish. She never laughed like that when she was with _him_! Before Mrs. Fenchurch concluded her visit, she had taken certain observations; perhaps, after all, like the princess with a pea in the feather bed, little Letty had some drawbacks in her fine home--an odious, arrogant, formidable mother-in-law, cold as ice; and a selfish, egotistical, self-indulgent husband, who snubbed her already--yes, and openly! “I must give you just one little word, dearest Letty,” she whispered to her, before they separated. “I want you to assert yourself, and talk, and offer your opinion, and take your proper place as the mistress of this splendid establishment. Why, my dear child, you look every moment as if you were a naughty little girl who expected to be put in the corner.” “I have only been here two weeks,” stammered the poor bride; “and of course I am not accustomed to all this grandeur _yet_. I shall get on all right by and by.”