But I don't play," Aunt Grace Mary rejoined.

"I thought you said you learnt music."

"Oh yes. I had to learn music; and I practised for hours every day;
but I never played."

Aunt Grace Mary smiled complacently as she spoke, took off her
spectacles, and locked up her writing materials--Beth, the while,
thoughtfully observing her. Aunt Grace Mary's hair was a wonderful
colour, neither red, yellow, brown, nor white, but a mixture of all
four. It was parted straight in the middle, where it was thin, and
brought down in two large rolls over her ears. She wore a black velvet
band across her head like a coronet, which ended in a large black
velvet bow at the back. Long heavy gold ear-rings pulled down the
lobes of her ears. All her dresses were of rustling silk, and she had
a variety of deep lace-collars, each one of which she fastened with a
different brooch at the throat. She also wore a heavy gold watch-chain
round her neck, the watch being concealed in her bosom; and jet
bracelets by day, but gold ones in the evening.

* * * * *

Beth was deeply interested in her own family history, and
intelligently pieced together such fragments of it as she could
collect from the conversations of the people about her. She was
sitting in one of the deep window-seats in the drawing-room looking
out one day, concealed by a curtain, when her mother and Great-Aunt
Victoria Bench came into the room, and settled themselves to chat and
sew without observing her.

"Where is Grace Mary?" Aunt Victoria asked.

"Locked up in her own room writing a letter, I believe," Mrs. Caldwell
replied, "a long and mysterious proceeding. We shall not see her again
this morning, I suppose."

"Ah, well," said Aunt Victoria considerately, "she writes a very
beautiful hand."

"James thought he was doing so well for himself, too!" Mrs. Caldwell
interjected. "He'd better have married the mother."

"There was the making of a fine woman in Grace Mary if she had had a
chance," Aunt Victoria answered, pursing up her mouth judicially. "It
was the mother made the match. When he came across them in
Switzerland, Lady Benyon got hold of him, and flattered him, made him
believe Grace Mary was only thirty-eight, not too old for a
son-and-heir, but much too old for a large family. She was really
about fifty; but he never thought of looking up her age until after
they were married. However, James got one thing he likes, and more
than