, they adored Miss
Betty, and would have pined and died in a month if taken from her
kindly, indulgent rule, and from the old Carew kitchen, with its
disorder and comfort, where they had reigned so many years.

The superior table manners of Mrs. Thorne were never more apparent than
upon this occasion. In this lady's opinion, when one was required to
turn from intellectual occupations to the grosser employment of
supplying nourishment to the body, one could at least endeavor to
etherealize it as much as possible by confining one's self to that
refined implement, the fork. In accordance with this theory, she
scarcely touched her knife; once, under protest as it were, she
delicately divided with its aid the wing of a wild-duck, but that was
all. She encountered difficulties; slices of cold tongue betrayed a
remarkable tenacity of fibre, portions of broiled chicken manifested a
very embarrassing slipperiness under the silver tines, as she tried to
divide them or roll them up. But she persevered in her efforts to the
end, and succeeded, though her small fingers became deeply dented by the
force she was obliged to exert.

When the meal was at length over, Mrs. Carew, with a bow to Mrs.
Rutherford as her most distinguished guest, rose. Garda called
Winthrop's attention, as they also rose, to the fact that she had
scarcely spoken six sentences of Spanish during its entire continuance.
"See how well I have obeyed you," she said.

"Surely I did not venture a command?"

"I think you did. At least you came as near it as you dared, and you are
very daring."

"I? Never in the world! You are quite mistaken, Miss Thorne, I am the
exact opposite of that," he answered, laughing.

"But I should think you would like me to at least believe you so,"
responded Garda, looking at him with wonder.

"Believe me to be daring? We probably use the word in a different sense;
it isn't a word I am fond of, I confess; but I don't think you would
find me lacking in any emergency."

"Oh, emergencies!--they never come to Gracias. Now please don't say,
like the dear old Doctor, 'May they never come to _you_, my dearest
child!'"

"I will say, then--may I be present when they do."

"But you won't be," responded Garda, her tone suddenly changing; "you
will go away, Mrs. Harold will go away, everybody will go away, and we
shall be left alone again, mamma and I, on this old shore!"

"But you have seemed to me very happy here on this old shore," sai