"It is a pity those people don't know who you are," Mrs Miles continued. "I wish you would write and tell them, Anthony; I am sure they would be pleased. My dear, you would find a better picture than this in the portfolio down stairs." "It does very well," said Anthony sleepily. Mrs Miles went on with her work, but presently began again. "My dear, it is a long time since you called at Deanscourt, and Sir James Milman has always been so civil that it does not seem quite right. Suppose you were to ride over there this afternoon." "I don't believe they've come down yet." "Lady and Miss Milman are at home, I know," asserted Mrs Miles gravely, "for she wrote the other day to ask for Ellen Harding's character. Miss Milman seems a very sweet girl." "Oh!" "And very pretty, I'm sure." "She's not my style," said Anthony, with an air of having disposed of her. "My dear, I think you would find her so, if only you knew her better," interposed Mrs Miles earnestly, "and Mrs Featherly tells me--" "What?" "That all those girls have money." "Well, mother, I'm too shy to venture there by myself, but, if you like, I'll drive you over in the pony-carriage." "Thank you, I'm sure, my dear, it would be very nice," said Mrs Miles, whose pleasure in driving with her son was mixed with several pet perturbations of her own; "but are you sure the pony is not too fresh?" "Fresh? He wants a little work, of course, but it's nothing on earth but play that makes him caper. I'll see he does no harm." "My dear, I can't help wishing he would play in the stables, where he really has nothing else to do, but if you think he's quite safe--" "As safe as any old cart-horse. Come, mother, if he should upset us, I'll give you leave to call me all the bad names you can think of." "O dear, but that will not make it any better," said Mrs Miles, shaking her head. "I don't see how you can help it if he takes it into his head to play, as you call it. However, my dear, you really ought to go to Deanscourt, so I will be quite ready by four o'clock, and now I must go and speak to Faith about the dust in this room." "You don't mean to say, mother, that you've let Faith engage herself to that dissenting fellow, Stephens," said Anthony, beginning to speak energetically. "I could not prevent it," said Mrs Miles, giving her head a mournful shake by way of protest. "I don't know what the world is coming to, but servants are not at all what they were." "We ought to have stopped it, though. How was he ever allowed to hang about the house? Faith is too good a little thing for a humbugging rascal like that. You wouldn't believe how he has worked upon that old idiot Maddox; if I hadn't gone into it, my father would have had a meeting-house stuck under his very nose, ay, and he'll have it still, unless I keep a sharp lookout. But, upon my word, it is a great deal too bad that he should get hold of Faith."