"I'd rather not have the wine if I'm to say that," said Edward, bluntly.

"Oh, nonsense! my dear. You'd wish to be like a gentleman, I'm sure."

Edward muttered something which was inaudible. His mother went on:

Of course you'll never think of being helped more than twice. Twice of
meat, twice of pudding, is the genteel thing. You may take less, but never
more."

"Oh, mamma! how beautiful Combehurst spire is, with that dark cloud behind
it!" exclaimed Maggie, as they came in sight of the town.

"You've no business with Combehurst spire when I'm speaking to you. I'm
talking myself out of breath to teach you how to behave, and there you go
looking after clouds, and such like rubbish. I'm ashamed of you."

Although Maggie walked quietly by her mother's side all the rest of the
way, Mrs. Browne was too much offended to resume her instructions on
good-breeding. Maggie might be helped three times if she liked: she had
done with her.

They were very early. When they drew near the bridge, they were met by a
tall, fine-looking boy, leading a beautiful little Shetland pony, with a
side-saddle on it. He came up to Mrs. Browne, and addressed her.

"My father thought your little girl would be tired, and he told me to bring
my cousin Erminia's pony for her. It's as quiet as can be."

Now this was rather provoking to Mrs. Browne, as she chose to consider