and formed a strange medley, which its mistress jealously defended
from all attacks of housemaids. In the middle stood a plaster cast
of the statue of the Maid of Orleans, a present from her little
brother Horace; above it hung a small Geneva watch, which had
belonged to Elizabeth's own mother; and there were besides a few
treasures of Horace's, too tender to be trusted in the nursery in his
absence at school.

The window looked out upon the empty solitary street of the old town,
and though little was to be seen from it which could interest the two
girls, yet after the little ones were gone, they stood there talking
for some minutes; Elizabeth inquiring after half the people about
Merton Hall, a place which she knew almost as well as her own home.

'When does Mrs. Hazleby come?' said Anne, beginning to dress.

'Oh! do not ask me,' said Elizabeth, 'I do not know, and hardly care;
quite late, I hope and trust.'

'But, Lizzie,' asked Anne, 'what have these unfortunate Hazlebys done
to offend you?'

'Done!' answered Elizabeth, 'oh! a thousand things, all too small to
be described, but together they amount to a considerable sum, I can
tell you. There has been a natural antipathy, an instinctive
dislike, between Mrs. Major Hazleby and me, ever since she paid her
first visit here, and, seeing me listening to something she was
saying to Mamma, she turned round upon me with that odious proverb,
"Little pitchers have long ears."'