And as this determination was enforced by a tolerably strong pull, Agnes yielded, and found herself, greatly against her inclination, standing at the open window, with her head obligingly thrust out of it by her resolute aunt. The lamps were by this time lighted, and at that moment a remarkably tall, gentleman-like looking personage passed beneath one that stood almost immediately below the window, receiving its full glare upon his features. Beside him was a lady, and a young one, slight, tall, and elegant-looking, who more than leaned upon his arm, for her head almost reclined upon his shoulder; and, as they passed, Agnes saw his hand raised to her face, and he seemed to be playing with her ringlets. Agnes forcibly withdrew her head, while Mrs. Barnaby threw herself half out of the window for a minute, then drew back, laughing heartily, and shut down the sash. "That's capital!..." she cried; "they fancied themselves so very snug. But wasn't he a fine figure of a man, Agnes? I never saw a finer fellow in my life. He's taller than Tate by half a head, I am sure. But you're right about the fire too, for the wind comes over that down uncommonly cold. I shall go to work for an hour, and then have a little bread and cheese and a pint of beer." Mrs. Barnaby suited the action to the word, and unlocked her work-box, in which she found ready to her hand good store of work prepared for her beloved needle. "Now, only see, Agnes, what a thing it would have been for you, if you had learned to work satin-stitch!" she said, "Here am I, happy and amused, and before I go to bed I dare say I shall have done a good inch of this beautiful collar.... And only look at yourself! What earthly use are you of to anybody?... I wonder you are not ashamed to sit idle in that way, while you see me hard at work." "May I get a book, aunt?" "Books, books, books!... If there is one thing more completely full of idleness than another, it is reading,--just spelling along one line after another.... And what comes of it? Now, here's a leaf done already, and wait a minute and you'll see a whole bunch of grapes done in spotting. There is some sense in that: but poring over a lot of rubbishly words is an absolute sin, for it is wasting the time that Heaven gives us, and doing no good to our fellow-creatures." "And the grapes!" thought Agnes, but she said nothing. "Why don't you answer when I speak to you, child?... Did that stupid Mrs. Wilmot never tell you to speak when you were spoken to?... What a different creature you would have been if I had had the placing you, instead of that crooked, frumpish old maid!... But I am sadly afraid it is too late now to hope that you will ever be good for much." "I should be very glad to try to make myself competent for the situation of a governess, aunt, as you once mentioned to me," replied Agnes.