ng these kind people. And she was after all but a child,
little more than fifteen.

There were numberless stories afloat about the boys,--their mirth, their
mischief, their good scholarship, their respect and obedience to their
father, which it was not beneath the dignity of the ladies assembled to
repeat and discuss. The boys had visited faithfully through the parish,
if their father had not, and almost everywhere they had won for
themselves a welcome. It is true, there had been one or two rather
serious scrapes, in which they had involved themselves, and other lads
of the village; but kind-hearted people forgot the mischief sooner than
the mirth, and Norman and Harry were very popular among old and young.

But the wonder of wonders, the riddle that none could read, the anomaly
in Merleville society was Janet, or Mrs Nasmyth, as she was generally
called. In refusing one of the many invitations which she had shared
with the minister and Graeme, she had thought fit to give society in
general a piece of her mind. She was, she said, the minister's servant,
and kenned her place better than to offer to take her tea with him in
any strange house; she was obliged for the invitation all the same.

"Servant!" echoed Mrs Sterne's help, who was staying to pass the
evening, while her mistress went home, "to see about supper."

And, "servant!" echoed the young lady who assisted Mrs Merle in her
household affairs.

"I'll let them see that I think myself just as good as Queen Victoria,
if I do live out," said another dignified auxiliary.

"She must be a dreadful mean-spirited creature."

"Why, they do say she'll brush them great boys' shoes. I saw her
myself, through the study-door, pull off Mr Elliott's boots as humble
as could be."

"To see that little girl pouring tea when there's company, and Mrs
Nasmyth not sitting down. It's ridiculous."

"I wouldn't do so for the President!"

"Well, they seem to think everything of her," said Miss Pettimore,
speaking for the first time in this connection.

"Why, yes, she does just what she has a mind to about house. And the
way them children hang about her, and fuss over her, I never see. They
tell her everything, and these boys mind her, as they do their father."

"And if any one comes to pay his minister's tax, it's always, `ask Mrs
Nasmyth,' or, `Mrs Nasmyth will tell you.'"

"They couldn't get along without her. If I was her I'd show them that I
was as good as them,