ie never close
enough, to lead to a state of crushed spirits. The many little tender
observances that she paid to him were a source of mournful sweetness
rather than of heart-rending.

It was a quietly but fully occupied life, with a certain severity towards
her own comforts, and liberality towards those of other people, which had
always been a part of her character, ever since Owen Sandbrook had read
sermons with her on self-denial. If Miss Wells had a fire in her bedroom
forced upon her, Miss Charlecote had none, and hurried down in the bleak
winter morning in shawl and gloves to Humfrey's great Bible, and then to
his account books and her business letters. She was fresh with cold when
she met the children for their early reading. And then--but it was not
soon that she learnt to bear that, though she had gone through the like
before, she had to read the household devotions, where every petition
seemed to be lacking the manly tone to give it fulness and force.

Breakfast followed, the silver kettle making it home-like, the children
chattering, Miss Wells smiling, letters coming in to perplex or to clear
up perplexities, amuse or cheer. The children were then turned out for
an hour's hoop-driving on the gravel drive, horse-chestnut picking, or
whatever might not be mischief, while Honora was conferring with Jones or
with Brooks, and receiving her orders for the day. Next followed
letter-writing, then lessons in general, a real enjoyment, unless Lucilla
happened to have picked up a fit of perverseness--some reading to them,
or rationalizing of play--the early dinner--the subsequent expedition
with them, either walking or riding--for Brooks had soon found ponies for
them, and they were gallant little riders. Honor would not give up the
old pony, long since trained for her by Humfrey, though, maybe, that was
her most undutiful proceeding towards him, as he would certainly have
told her that the creature was shaky on the legs. So at last it tumbled
down with her, but without any damage, save a hole in her skirt, and a
dreadful crying fit of little Owen, who was frightened out of his wits.
She owned that it must be degraded to light cart work, and mounted an
animal which Hiltonbury agreed to be more worthy of her. Coming in, the
children played; she either did her business or found leisure for
reading; then came tea-time, then the reading of a story book to the
children, and when they were disposed of, of something