Lady Betty's confidence was rather embarrassing, but I hardly knew how to check it. I began to think the household at Gladwyn must be a very queer one. Uncle Max had already hinted at a want of harmony between Mr. Hamilton and his step-sisters, and Miss Darrell seemed hardly a favourite with him, although he was too kind-hearted to say so openly. 'Has your cousin lived long with you?' I ventured to ask. 'Oh yes; ever since Gladys and I were little things; before mamma died. Auntie lived with us too: poor auntie, we were very fond of her, but she was a sad invalid; she died about three years ago. Etta has managed everything ever since.' 'Do you mean that Miss Darrell is housekeeper? I should have thought that would have been your sister's place.' 'Oh, Gladys is called the mistress of her house, but none of the servants go to her for orders. If she gives any, Etta is sure to countermand them,' 'It is partly Gladys's fault,' went on Lady Betty, in her frank outspoken way. 'She tried for a little while to manage things; but either she was a terribly bad housekeeper, or Etta undermined her influence in the house; everything went wrong, and Giles got so angry,--men do, you know, when the dear creatures' comforts are invaded: so there was a great fuss, and Gladys gave it up; and now the prime minister manages the finances, and gives out stores, and, though I hate to say it, things never went more smoothly than they do now. Giles is scarcely ever vexed.' I am ashamed to say how much I was interested in Lady Betty's childish talk, and yet I knew it was wrong not to check her. What would Miss Hamilton say if she were to hear of our conversation? Jill was rather a reckless talker, but she was nothing compared with this daring little creature. Lady Betty told me afterwards, when we were better acquainted, that it had amused her so to see how widely I could open my eyes when I was surprised. I believe she did it out of pure mischief. Our talk was happily interrupted by the appearance of Mrs. Barton and the tea-tray, which at once turned Lady Betty's thoughts into a new channel. There was so much to do. First she must help to arrange the table, and, as no one else could cut such thin bread-and-butter, she must try her hand at that. Then Nap must have his tea before we touched ours; and when at last we did sit down she was praising the cake, and jumping up for the kettle, and waiting upon me 'because I was a dear good thing, and waited on poor people,' and coaxing me to take this or that as though I were her guest, and every now and then she paused to say 'how nice and cosy it was,' and how she was enjoying herself, and how glad she felt to miss that stupid dinner at Gladwyn, where no one talked but Giles and Etta, and Gladys sat as though she were half asleep, until she, Lady Betty, felt inclined to pinch them all. We were approaching the dangerous subject again, but I warded it off by asking how she and her sister employed their time.