cle, Mr. John Liddell, who expressed a wish to
see her to-day, and that gentleman is Mr. Liddell's solicitor," returned
the elder lady, smiling to think how soon she had been driven in upon
the reserved force of her daughter's suggestion.

"What! that terrible old miser poor Fred used to talk of? Why, he will
take a favorable turn, and leave everything to Katie! Oh, dear Mrs.
Liddell, that will not be fair. _Do_ contrive to let him see Cis and
Charlie. We will declare that Cecil is his very image. Old men like to
be considered like pretty young creatures. I always get on with crabbed
old men. Let _me_ see him too. Katherine must not keep the game all in
her own hands. Let me have a chance."

"I don't fancy Katie has much of a chance herself," returned Mrs.
Liddell, as she followed her daughter-in-law into the dining-room. "It
is an old man's whim, and he will probably never wish to see her again."

"Very likely. You know dear Katherine does not do herself justice; her
manners are so abrupt. You do not mind my saying so?"

"Not in the least." Mrs. Liddell had a fine temper, and also a keen
sense of humor. Though fond of and indulgent to her daughter-in-law, she
saw through her more clearly than Katherine did, as she gave full credit
for the good that was in her, in spite of her little foibles and
greediness. "Katherine is much more abrupt than you are."

"Exactly. She will never be quite up to her dear mother's mark. Few
step-mothers and daughters get on as we do, and I am sure you would look
after poor Fred's boys as if they were your own."

"So would Katherine. Of that you may be sure, my dear."

"Oh yes; she is very fond of them, especially Charlie. I do not think
she is really just to Cecil."

"Real justice is rare," returned Mrs. Liddell, calmly. "There is a note
for you, Ada, on the chimney-piece; it came just after you went out."

"Why, it is from Mrs. Burnett!"--pouncing on it and tearing it open.
"What shall I do?" she almost screamed as she read it. "I am afraid I
shall never get there in time. What o'clock is it?--my watch is never
right. Half-past twelve, and luncheon is at half-past one. Oh, I must
manage it! Read that, dear.--Jane! Jane! bring me some hot water
immediately, and come help me to dress.--What is the cab fare to Park
Terrace? Eighteenpence?--it can't be so much. Just lend me a shilling;
you can take it out of the ten pounds you are to pay me next week." And
she flew out of the room.