mong the other ladies, they'd think we wanted to make a dressing of
it;--and there wouldn't be room for them all; would there?"

"No; there wouldn't," said Mr Cheesacre, who had been out on the
previous evening, inspecting, and perhaps limiting, the carpenters
in their work.

"That's just it," said Mrs Greenow. "But there won't be any harm,
will there, Mr Cheesacre, in Jeanette's going out with our things?
She'll ride in the cart, you know, with the eatables. I know
Jeannette's a friend of yours."

"We shall be delighted to have Jeanette," said Mr Cheesacre.

"Thank ye, sir," said Jeannette, with a curtsey.

"Jeannette, don't you let Mr Cheesacre turn your head; and mind you
behave yourself and be useful. Well; let me see;--what else is there?
Mrs Jones, you might as well give me that ham now. Captain Bellfield,
hand it over. Don't you put it into the basket, because you'd turn it
the wrong side down. There now, if you haven't nearly made me upset
the apricot pie." Then, in the transfer of the dishes between the
captain and the widow, there occurred some little innocent by-play,
which seemed to give offence to Mr Cheesacre; so that that gentleman
turned his back upon the hampers and took a step away towards the
door.

Mrs Greenow saw the thing at a glance, and immediately applied
herself to cure the wound. "What do you think, Mr Cheesacre," said
she, "Kate wouldn't come down because she didn't choose that you
should see her with an apron on over her frock!"

"I'm sure I don't know why Miss Vavasor should care about my seeing
her."

"Nor I either. That's just what I said. Do step up into the
drawing-room; you'll find her there, and you can make her answer for
herself."

"She wouldn't come down for me," said Mr Cheesacre. But he didn't
stir. Perhaps he wasn't willing to leave his friend with the widow.

At length the last of the dishes was packed and Mrs Greenow went
up-stairs with the two gentlemen. There they found Kate and two or
three other ladies who had promised to embark under the protection of
Mrs Greenow's wings. There were the two Miss Fairstairs, whom Mrs
Greenow had especially patronized, and who repaid that lady for her
kindness by an amount of outspoken eulogy which startled Kate by its
audacity.

"Your dear aunt!" Fanny Fairstairs had said on coming into the room.
"I don't think I ever came across a woman with such genuine milk of
human kindness!"

"Nor with so much true wit," said her sist