d have
predominated.

Betty, inflamed by the glove, rummaged the papers in search of female
handwriting. She could tell that from a man's, though she could not read
either.

But there is a handwriting that the most ignorant can read at sight; and
so Betty's researches were not in vain: hidden under several sheets of
paper, she found a picture. She gave but one glance at it, and screamed
out: "There, didn't I tell you? Here she is! the brazen,
red-haired--LAWK A DAISY! WHY, 'T IS YOURSELF."

CHAPTER XVII.

"Me!" cried Mrs. Gaunt, in amazement: then she ran to the picture, and
at sight of it every other sentiment gave way for a moment to gratified
vanity. "Nay," said she, beaming and blushing, "I was never half so
beautiful. What heavenly eyes!"

"The fellows to 'em be in your own head, dame, this moment."

"Seeing is believing," said Mrs. Gaunt, gayly, and in a moment she was
at the priest's mirror, and inspected her eyes minutely, cocking her
head this way and that. She ended by shaking it, and saying, "No. He has
flattered them prodigiously."

"Not a jot," said Betty. "If you could see yourself in chapel, you do
turn 'em up just so, and the white shows all round." Then she tapped the
picture with her finger: "O them eyes! they were never made for the good
of his soul,--poor simple man!"

Betty said this with sudden gravity: and now Mrs. Gaunt began to feel
very awkward. "Mr. Gaunt would give fifty pounds for this," said she, to
gain time: and, while she uttered that sentence, she whipped on her
armor.

"I'll tell you what I think," said she, calmly, "he wished to paint a
Madonna; and he must take some woman's face to aid his fancy. All the
painters are driven to that. So he just took the best that came to hand,
and that is not saying much, for this is a rare ill-favored parish: and
he has made an angel of her, a very angel. There, hide Me away again, or
I shall long for Me--to show to my husband. I must be going; I wouldn't
be caught here _now_ for a pension."

"Well, if ye must," said Betty; "but when will ye come again?" (She
hadn't got the petticoat yet.)

"Humph!" said Mrs. Gaunt, "I have done all I can for him; and perhaps
more than I ought. But there's nothing to hinder you from coming to me.
I'll be as good as my word; and I have an old Paduasoy, besides, you can
perhaps do something with it."

"You are very good, dame," said Betty, courtesying.

Mrs. Gaunt then hurried away, and Betty looked