might have passed almost for thirty; so solidly old fashioned were
her figure and her manners.

Ascott Leaf had finished his walking the hospitals and his
examinations, and was now fitted to commence practice for himself.
His godfather had still continued his allowance, though once or
twice, when he came down to Stowbury, he had asked his aunts to help
him in small debts the last time in one a little more serious; when,
after some sad and sore consultation, it had been resolved to tell
him he must contrive to live within his own allowance. For they were
poorer than they used to be; many more schools had arisen in the
town, and theirs had dwindled away. It was becoming a source of
serious anxiety whether they could possibly make ends meet; and when,
the next Christmas, Ascott sent them a five pound note--an actual
five pound note, together with a fond, grateful letter that was worth
it all--the aunts were deeply thankful, and very happy.

But still the school declined. One night they were speculating upon
the causes of this, and Hilary was declaring, in a half jocular, half
earnest way, that it must be because a prophet is never a prophet in
his own country.

"The Stowbury people will never believe how clever I am. Only, it is
a useless sort of cleverness, I fear. Greek, Latin, and mathematics
are no good to infants under seven, such as Stowbury persists in
sending to us."

"They think I am only fit to teach little children--and perhaps it is
true," said Miss Leaf.