"Very likely," Francine agreed--without even a pretense of
sympathy. "But tell me, who are the four old people?"

"First, Sir Jervis himself--seventy, last birthday. Next, his
unmarried sister--nearly eighty. Next, his man-servant, Mr.
Rook--well past sixty. And last, his man-servant's wife, who
considers herself young, being only a little over forty. That is
the household. Mrs. Rook is coming to-day to attend Emily on the
journey to the North; and I am not at all sure that Emily will
like her."

"A disagreeable woman, I suppose?"

"No--not exactly that. Rather odd and flighty. The fact is, Mrs.
Rook has had her troubles; and perhaps they have a little
unsettled her. She and her husband used to keep the village inn,
close to our park: we know all about them at home. I am sure I
pity these poor people. What are you looking at, Francine?"

Feeling no sort of interest in Mr. and Mrs. Rook, Francine was
studying her schoolfellow's lovely face in search of defects. She
had already discovered that Cecilia's eyes were placed too widely
apart, and that her chin wanted size and character.

"I was admiring your complexion, dear," she answered coolly.
"Well, and why do you pity the Rooks?"

Simple Cecilia smiled, and went on with her story.

"They are obliged to go out to service in their old age, through