one Gatty Delawarr; and I'll be bound you think
her a very dull, stupid creature. Well, you're about right there. But
there are two: there's me, and there's the thing people want to make me.
Now, you haven't seen me,--you've only seen the woman into whom I am
being pinched and pulled. This is me that talks to you to-night, and
perhaps you'll never see me again,--only that other girl,--so you had
better make the most of me now that you have me. I'm sure, if you
dislike her as much as I do--! You see, Phoebe, there are three of us--
Betty, and me, and Molly: and Mother's set her heart on our all making a
noise in the world. Well, perhaps we could have managed better if we
might have made our own noise; but we have to make it to order, and we
don't do it well at all. Betty's the best off, because Mother hit on
something that went with her nature,--she's the notable housewife. So
she plays her play well. But when she set up Molly for a wit, and me
for a beauty, she made a great blunder. Molly hasn't a bit of wit, so
she falls back on rude speeches, and they go through me just as if she
ran a knife into me. You did not think so, did you?"

"No," said Phoebe, wonderingly; "I thought you did not seem to care."

"That's the other Gatty. She does not care. She's been told,--oh, a
hundred times over!--to compose herself and keep her features calm, and
not let her voice be ruffled; and move slowly, so that her elbows are
not square, and all on in that way; and she has about learned it by this
time. I know how to sit still and look unconcerned, if my heart be
breaking. And it is breaking, Phoebe."

"Dear Mrs Gatty, what can I do for you?"

"You can't do anything but listen to me. Let me pour it out this once,
and don't scold me. I don't mean anything wrong, Phoebe. I don't wish
to complain of Mother, or Molly, or any one. I only want to tell
somebody what I have to bear, and then I'll compose myself again to my
part in the world's big theatre, and go away and bear it, like other
girls do. And you are the only person I have acquaintance with, that I
feel as if I could tell."

"Pray go on, Mrs Gatty; I can feel sorry, if I can do nothing else."

"Well,--at home somebody is at me from morning to night. There's a
posture-master comes once a week; and Mother's maid looks to my carriage
at all times, 'tis an endless round of--`Gatty, hold your head
up,'--`Gatty, put that plate down, and take it up with your arm