out, and he never interfered with me, no, never, poor dear. But he liked
people to show due respect--it's a respect to Beatrice for Mrs. Bertram
to call. It shows that she appreciates Beatrice as her daughter's
friend. Mrs. Bertram, notwithstanding her pride, is likely to be very
much respected in Northbury, and no wonder. She's a little above most of
us, but we like her all the better for that. We are going to be proud of
her. It's nice to have some one to be proud of. And she has no airs when
you come to know her, no, she hasn't airs; she's as pleasant as
possible, and seems interested too, that is, as interested as people
like us can expect from people like her. She didn't even condescend to
Beatrice. I wonder how my little girl would have taken it, if she had
condescended to her. Yes, Jane, do you want me?"

An elderly servant opened the drawing-room door.

"If you please, ma'am, Mrs. Morris has called, and she wants to know if
it would disturb you very much to see her?"

"Disturb me? She knows it won't disturb me. Show her in at once. And
Jane, you can get tea ready half-an-hour earlier than usual. I daresay,
as Mrs. Morris has called she'd like a cup. How do you do, Mrs. Morris?
I'm right glad to see you, right glad. Sit here, in this chair--or
perhaps you'd rather sit in this one; this isn't too near the window.
And you'll like a screen, I know;--not that there's any draught--for
these windows fit as tight as tight when shut."

Mrs. Morris was a thin, tall woman. She always spoke in a whisper, for
she was possessed of the belief that she had lost her voice in
bronchitis. She had not, for when she scolded any one she found it
again. She was not scolding now, however, and her tones were very low