"Why, Nancy, you know nothing," said Mrs. Lane, cutting into the conversation. "My lord is to give Mrs. Martin a hundred pounds a year to teach Dorothy Chance to be a lady." "It's scandalous!" cried Miss Watling, turning livid with spite. "I wonder Lord Wilton is not ashamed of himself, to try and stick up a minx like that above her neighbours. It's no wonder that Miss Chance walks so demurely into church beside the parson's wife, and holds up her saucy head as if she was somebody. She's a wicked bay tree, yes she is, and I'd like to scratch her impudent face." "She's a clever lass, and no mistake, and a good girl, too, that is, if I may be allowed to be any judge of character," said Mrs. Barford, "and I've had some sixty-five years' experience of the world. Of Dorothy's father we know nothing, and, perhaps, never will know anything; but this I do say, that Gil Rushmere was never comparable to Dorothy Chance, and we all know that he came of decent parents." "I'm sick of hearing about her," cried Nancy, impatiently. "I believe that she'll turn out just like her mother, and die in a ditch as she did." "No, no, no," said Mrs. Barford, laughing, "you'll live to see her ride to church in her carriage." "I wish I may die first!" "It is her fate," returned Mrs. Barford, solemnly. "Folks are born to good or ill luck, as it pleases the Lord. If he lifts them into high places, no one but himself can pull them down; if he places them in the low parts of the earth, it is not in our power to exalt them. It's according to our deserts. He who created us, knows the stuff of which we are made before we are born; and he puts us in the right place, though we may fight against it all our lives, and consider it the very worst that could be chosen for us. I did not see it thus in my young days, but I begin to find it out now." During this long oracular speech, the ladies diligently discussed the good things on the table. Miss Watling hated people to preach over their bread and butter; but Mrs. Barford had acquired the reputation of being clever, and she dared not attempt to put her down, though she marvelled at her want of sense in taking the part of a low creature like Dorothy. After the table had been cleared, the three other visitors proposed to join Letty in the garden, and Mrs. Barford and Miss Watling were left alone together. This was an opportunity not to be lost by the ill-natured spinster, who determined to be revenged on Letty by making a little mischief between her and her mother-in-law. "How do you and Mrs. Joe get on together now?" said she, drawing her chair close beside the old lady; and speaking in a confidential sympathizing voice. "Oh, much as usual; we are not very well sorted. Joe is contented and that's the main thing. He is a rough fellow himself, and never had any ambition to be a gentleman."