ie," said Mr.
Somers; "let me help you to some. Mr. Fairchild, I know, is not fond of
carving."

Mr. Crosbie thanked Mr. Somers; and Mr. Somers had just begun to cut
the venison, when Mr. Crosbie called out, as if in agony:

"Oh, Mr. Somers, you will spoil the venison! You must not cut it that
way upon any account. Do put the haunch by me, and let me help myself."

"What confusion you are making at the table, Mr. Crosbie!" said Mrs.
Crosbie. "You are putting every dish out of its place! Surely Mr.
Somers knows how to carve as well as you do."

"But papa is afraid Mr. Somers won't give him all the nice bits," said
Miss Betsy.

"Learn to be silent, miss!" said Mr. Crosbie.

Miss Betsy was going to answer her father, when Miss Crosbie came into
the room, newly dressed in a very elegant manner. She came smiling in,
followed by Lucy and Emily, who went to sit at a small table with
Henry.

"Sister," said Mrs. Crosbie, "where was the need of your dressing
again? If we had waited for you, the dinner would have been spoiled."

"But we did not wait for Miss Crosbie, so there was no harm done," said
Mr. Fairchild, smiling.

"My aunt would not lose an opportunity of showing her new-fashioned
gown for the world!" said Miss Betsy.

"Indeed, niece," answered Miss Crosbie, "I do not know why you should
say that I am fond of showing my clothes. I wish to be neat and clean,
but no person cares less than I do about fashions and finery."

"La!" says Miss Betsy, whispering to Mrs. Fairchild "hear my aunt! she
says she does not care about finery! That's like mamma saying how
good-natured she is!"

"Fie, fie, Miss Betsy!" said Mrs. Fairchild, speaking low; "you forget
your respect to your elders."

Miss Betsy coloured, and stared at Mrs. Fairchild. She had not been
used to be found fault with; for she was spoiled by both her parents;
and she felt quite angry.

"Indeed!" she said, "I never was thought disrespectful to anyone
before. Can't I see people's faults? Can't I see that mamma is cross,
and my aunt fond of fine clothes, and that papa loves eating?"

"Hush! hush!" said Mrs. Fairchild, in a low voice; "your papa and mamma
will hear you."

"And I don't care if they do," said Miss Betsy: "they know what I
think."

"What's that you are saying there, Miss Betsy?" said Mr. Crosbie.

"Oh, don't ask, brother," said Miss Crosbie; "I know it is something
saucy, by my niece's looks."

"And why should you suppose I am sayin