ches and over bridges, and colliding with blown-down elms, in league
for mischief with blown-out lamps. Be advised, and _never_ fidget about
the absent!

She would rather have gone on doing so than that the recollection should
come back to her of Lutwyche's odious designation that she had taken to
herself, so warrantably to all appearance. A _plaguy old cat_! What had
she ever done or said to Miss Lutwyche, or any of them, to deserve such
a name? And then that girl who was with her had seemed to accept it so
easily--certainly without any protest. She was ready to admit, though,
that her vituperators had concealed their animus well, the hypocrites
that they were! Look how amiable Mrs. Masham had made believe
to be, an hour ago! A shade of graciousness--an infinitesimal
condescension--certainly nothing worse than that! But the hypocrisy of
it! She had never been quite comfortable in her ill-assigned position of
guest undefined--dear, beautiful Gwen's fault! Never, since the
housekeeper on first introduction had jumped at her reluctance to taint
the servants' hall with Sapps Court, interpreting it as a personal
desire to be alone. But she had never suspected that she was a plaguy
old cat, and did not feel like her idea of one.

Conceive the position of a lonely octogenarian, injudiciously thrust
into a community where she was not welcome--by a Guardian Angel surely,
but one who had never known the meaning of the word "obstacle." Conceive
that her poverty had never meant pauperisation, and that graciousness
and condescension are always tainted with benevolence, to the indigent.
She had done nothing to deserve having anything bestowed on her, and the
wing of a chicken she had supped upon would have stuck in her throat
with that qualification. Understand, too, that when this thought crossed
her mind, she recoiled from it and cried out upon her petty pride that
would call anything in question that had been _vise_ and endorsed by
that dear Guardian Angel. Use these helps towards a glimpse into her
heart as she watched the new wood go the way of the old, and say if you
wonder that she cried silently over it. Now if only that nice person
that came to-day could have stayed on, to pass the time with her until
the welcome sound should come of the chaise's homeward wheels and the
grey mare's splendid pace, bringing her what she knew would come if Gwen
was in it, a happy farewell interview with her idol before she went to
bed. Yes--h