"Pray forget it, aunt!... Indeed I do not wish to be an expense to you, and will very gladly try to labour for my own living, if you will let me." "Mighty fine, to be sure!... Much you're good for, ar'n't you?... I wish you'd get along to bed. My temper is too good to bear malice, and I shall forget all about it to-morrow, perhaps; but I can't abide to look at you to-night after such a speech as that ... there's the truth; ... so get to bed, that's a good girl, as fast as you can.... There are some things too much even for an angel to bear!" Agnes crept to her little bed, and soon cried herself to sleep. CHAPTER XVIII. CONDITIONS OF AN AGREEMENT BETWEEN MRS. PETERS AND HER DAUGHTERS.--MRS. BARNABY BEGINS HER FASHIONABLE CAREER UNDER THE PROTECTION OF MISS ELIZABETH.--SHE REHEARSES A BALL IN HER HEART AS SHE EXAMINES THE ROOM.--THE LIBRARY. Mrs. Barnaby was quite right in thinking that the Peters family would be very useful acquaintance; for prodigiously as Mrs. Peters disliked her sister-in-law, she no sooner ceased to be galled by her unwelcome presence in her house, than she recovered her good-humour, and felt as much aware as any reasonable person could desire, of the claim her brother's widow really had upon her and her family. These excellent dispositions were assiduously fostered by her daughters, to whose wishes she never turned a deaf ear. She found the eldest and the youngest very seriously interested in Agnes, and earnest in their desire to see more of her; while Elizabeth persevered in her belief that poor Mrs. Barnaby was one of the very best-hearted women in the world, and very much to be pitied, because nobody seemed to like her ... though she _did_ mean to divide her fortune so generously amongst them. "I hope, mamma," said the eldest Miss Peters, when the ladies of the family were sitting round the drawing-room fire after dinner, "I hope that you will overcome your terror of Mrs. Barnaby and her rouge sufficiently before Tuesday night to permit her joining our party in the ball-room, for I would not forsake that sweet Agnes upon such an occasion for more than I will say." "Why, I do feel my spirits revive, Mary, considerably, since I have felt quite certain that none of my dear sister's amiable feelings were likely to involve me in the necessity of enduring her presence in my house for evermore. You may fancy you exaggerate, perhaps, when you talk of my terrors; ... but no such thing, believe me. It was terror she inspired, and nothing short of it." "And Agnes, mamma?... what did she inspire?" said Mary. "Pity and admiration," replied her mother.