tone Court, because she likes that
better than being a governess," said Rosamond, folding up her work. "I
would rather not have anything left to me if I must earn it by enduring
much of my uncle's cough and his ugly relations."

"He can't be long for this world, my dear; I wouldn't hasten his end,
but what with asthma and that inward complaint, let us hope there is
something better for him in another. And I have no ill-will toward's
Mary Garth, but there's justice to be thought of. And Mr.
Featherstone's first wife brought him no money, as my sister did. Her
nieces and nephews can't have so much claim as my sister's. And I must
say I think Mary Garth a dreadful plain girl--more fit for a governess."

"Every one would not agree with you there, mother," said Fred, who
seemed to be able to read and listen too.

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Vincy, wheeling skilfully, "if she _had_
some fortune left her,--a man marries his wife's relations, and the
Garths are so poor, and live in such a small way. But I shall leave
you to your studies, my dear; for I must go and do some shopping."

"Fred's studies are not very deep," said Rosamond, rising with her
mamma, "he is only reading a novel."

"Well, well, by-and-by he'll go to his Latin and things," said Mrs.
Vincy, soothingly, stroking her son's head. "There's a fire in the
smoking-room on purpose. It's your father's wish, you know--Fred, my
dear--and I always tell him you will be good, and go to college again
to take your degree."

Fred drew his mother's hand down to his lips, but said nothing.

"I suppose you are not going out riding to-day?" said Rosamond,
lingering a little after her mamma was gone.

"No; why?"

"Papa says I may have the chestnut to ride now."

"You can go with me to-morrow, if you like. Only I am going to Stone
Court, remember."

"I want to ride so much, it is indifferent to me where we go." Rosamond
really wished to go to Stone Court, of all other places.

"Oh, I say, Rosy," said Fred, as she was passing out of the room, "if
you are going to the piano, let me come and play some airs with you."

"Pray do not ask me this morning."

"Why not this morning?"

"Really, Fred, I wish you would leave off playing the flute. A man
looks very silly playing the flute. And you play so out of tune."

"When next any one makes love to you, Miss Rosamond, I will tell him
how obliging you are."

"Why should you expect me to oblige you by hearing yo