r teapot."

"I never thought of it," said Hester, ruefully. It was almost impossible
to her to alter the habit of a lifetime, and to remember to dash out and
hurriedly change the daily routine if visitors were present. Lady Susan
had always used her battered old silver teapot every day, and for the
life of her Hester could not understand why there should be one kind one
day and one kind another. She glanced resentfully at the little brown
earthen-ware vessel which she had wielded so carefully half an hour ago.
Why did she never remember the Gresleys' wishes?

"Hester," said Mrs. Gresley, suddenly, taking new note of Hester's
immaculate brown holland gown, which contrasted painfully with her own
dilapidated pink shirt with hard collars and cuffs and imitation tie,
tied for life in the shop where it was born. "You are so smart; I do
believe you knew they were coming."

If there was one thing more than another which offended Hester, it was
being told that she was _smart_.

"I trust I am never smart," she replied, not with any touch of the
haughtiness that some ignorant persons believe to be the grand manner,
but with a subtle change of tone and carriage which seemed instantly to
remove her to an enormous distance from the other woman with her
insinuation and tan stockings. Mrs. Gresley unconsciously drew in her
feet. "I did not know when I dressed this morning that the Bishop was
coming to-day."

"Then you _did_ know later that he was coming?"

"Yes, Rachel West wrote to tell me so this morning, but I did not open
her letter at breakfast, and I was so vexed at being late for luncheon
that I forgot to mention it then. I remembered as soon as James had
started, and ran after him, but he was too far off to hear me call to
him."

It cost Hester a good deal to give this explanation, as she was aware
that the Bishop's visit had been to her and to her alone.

"Come, come," said Mr. Gresley, judicially, with the natural masculine
abhorrence of a feminine skirmish.

"Don't go on making foolish excuses, Hester, which deceive no one; and
you, Minna, don't criticise Hester's clothes. It is the Bishop's own
fault for not writing his notes himself. He might have known that Miss
West would have written to Hester instead of to me. I can't say I think
Hester behaved kindly towards us in acting as she did, but I won't hear
any more argument about it. I desire the subject should now _drop_."

The last words were uttered in the sa