a propriety of feeling which was thought very nice in her, she added, in
the same natural, distinct manner, standing and looking round as she
spoke:

"But is it not my Lady Latimer's right? What should I know of your
children, who am only a summer visitor?"

Lady Latimer acknowledged the courteous disclaimer with that exquisite
smile which had been the magic of her loveliness always. The children
would appreciate the kindness of a stranger, she said; and with a
perfect grace yielded the precedence, and at the same time resigned the
opportunity she had always enjoyed before of giving the children a
monition once a year on their duty to God, their parents, their pastors
and masters, elders and betters, and neighbors in general. Whether my
lady felt aggrieved or not nobody could discern; but the people about
were aggrieved for her, and Miss Buff confided to a friend, in a
semi-audible whisper of intense exasperation, that the rector was the
biggest muff and toady that ever it had been her misfortune to know.
Miss Buff, it will be perceived, liked strong terms; but, as she justly
pleaded in extenuation of a taste for which she was reproached, what was
the use of there being strong terms in the language if they were not to
be applied on suitable occasions?

The person, however, on whom this incident made the deepest impression
was Bessie Fairfax. Bessie admired Lady Latimer because she was
admirable. She had listened too often to Mr. Carnegie's radical talk to
have any reverence for rank and title unadorned; but her love of beauty
and goodness made her look up with enthusiastic respect to the one noble
lady she knew, of whom even the doctor spoke as "a great woman." The
children sang their grace and sat down to tea, and Lady Latimer stood