are disrespectful."

"Miss Honeyman is a dear little old woman," breaks in Ethel. "Was not
she kind to Alfred, mamma, and did not she make him nice jelly? And
a Doctor of Divinity--you know Clive's grandfather was a Doctor of
Divinity, mamma, there's a picture of him in a wig--is just as good as a
banker, you know he is."

"Did you bring some of Miss Honeyman's lodging-house cards with you,
Ethel?" says her brother, "and had we not better hang up one or two in
Lombard Street; hers and our other relation's, Mrs. Mason?"

"My darling love, who is Mrs. Mason?" asks Lady Anne.

"Another member of the family, ma'am. She was cousin----"

"She was no such thing, sir," roars Sir Brian.

"She was relative and housemaid of my grandfather during his first
marriage. She acted, I believe, as dry nurse to the distinguished
Colonel of sepoys, my uncle. She has retired into private life in her
native town of Newcome, and occupies her latter days by the management
of a mangle. The Colonel and young pothouse have gone down to spend a
few days with their elderly relative. It's all here in the paper, by
Jove!" Mr. Barnes clenched his fist, and stamped upon the newspaper with
much energy.

"And so they should go down and see her, and so the Colonel should love
his nurse, and not forget his relations if they are old and poor," cries
Ethel, with a flush on her face, and tears starting into her eyes.

"Hear what the Newcome papers say about it," shrieks out Mr. Barnes, his
voice quivering, his little eyes flashing out scorn. "It's in both the
papers, I dare say. It will be in the Times to-morrow. By ---- it's
delightful. Our paper only mentions the gratifying circumstance; here is
the paragraph. 'Lieutenant-Colonel Newcome, C.B., a distinguished
Indian officer, and younger brother of our respected townsman and
representative Sir Brian Newcome, Bart., has been staying for the
last week at the King's Arms, in our city. He has been visited by the
principal inhabitants and leading gentlemen of Newcome, and has come
among us, as we understand, in order to pass a few days with an elderly
relative, who has been living for many years past in great retirement in
this place.'"

"Well, I see no great harm in that paragraph," says Sir Brian. "I wish
my brother had gone to the Roebuck, and not to the King's Arms, as the
Roebuck is our house: but he could not be expected to know much about
the Newcome inns, as he is a new comer himself. And I thi