had said often, to put away childish things, and now she pined for
those things which she so put from her. As she sat she could still
hear Lily's voice as they went through the shrubbery,--hear it when
none but a mother's ears would have distinguished the sound. Now that
those young men were at the Great House it was natural that her girls
should be there too. The squire would not have had young men to
stay with him had there been no ladies to grace his table. But for
her,--she knew that no one would want her there. Now and again she
must go, as otherwise her very existence, without going, would be a
thing disagreeably noticeable. But there was no other reason why she
should join the party; nor in joining it would she either give or
receive pleasure. Let her daughters eat from her brother's table and
drink of his cup. They were made welcome to do so from the heart. For
her there was no such welcome as that at the Great House,--nor at any
other house, or any other table!

"Mamma will stay at home to eat the peas."

And then she repeated to herself the words which Lily had spoken,
sitting there, leaning with her elbow on her knee, and her head upon
her hand.

"Please, ma'am, cook says, can we have the peas to shell?" and then
her reverie was broken.

Whereupon Mrs Dale got up and gave over her basket. "Cook knows that
the young ladies are going to dine at the Great House?"

"Yes, ma'am."