But even now when she stole in, shivering with the cold of disappointment and discouragement, through the dark house to her room Lottie did not know all that this evening had wrought. And she scarcely noticed the gloom on Polly’s face, nor the strain of angry monologue which her father’s wife gave vent to, next morning. Polly wondered what was the good of being a married lady, when a young unmarried girl that was nobody, was took such notice of, and her betters left at ’ome? Did people know no manners? gentlefolks! they called themselves gentlefolks, and behaved like that? If that was politeness, Polly thanked heaven it was not the kind as she had been taught. But the outburst came when Lottie, taking no notice, scarcely even hearing what was said, showed herself with her music in her hands going out to her lesson. Polly came out of her husband’s room and planted herself defiantly in Lottie’s way. “Where are you going again,” she said, “Miss? where are you going again? is this to be always the way of it? Do you mean never to stay at home nor do anything to help nor make yourself agreeable? I declare it is enough to put a saint in a passion. But I won’t put up with it, I can tell you. I did not come here to be treated like this, like the dirt under your feet.” Lottie was almost too much taken by surprise to speak. It was the first absolute shock of collision. “I am going for my lesson,” she said. “Your lesson!” cried Polly. “Oh my patience, oh my poor ’usband! that is the way his money goes--lessons for you and lessons for Law, and I don’t know what! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, you two. You ought to be making your living both of you, if you were honest, instead of living on your father as wants all he’s got for himself. But you shan’t go to any lesson if I can help it,” she cried. “You’ll stay at home and try and be of a little use, or you’ll march off this very day, and find some one else to put up with you and your lessons. It shan’t be me. I won’t stand by and see my ’usband wronged. You’ll ruin him between you, that’s what you’ll do; go back, Miss, and put down them books this moment. I won’t have it, I tell you. I’ll not see my ’usband eaten up by the likes of you.” Polly’s diction suffered from her passion, and so did her appearance. Her face grew scarlet, her eyes flashed with fury. She put out her hand to push Lottie back, who shrank from her with a cry of dismay-- “Let me pass, please,” said Lottie piteously. She could not quarrel with this woman, she could not even enter so much into conflict with her as to brush past her, and thus escape. She shrank with pain and horror from the excited creature in her way.