e frightened to
death of Uncle James, arn't you?" she asked, after sucking her pencil
meditatively for a little.

"No, dear, of course not. I am not afraid of any one but the dear
Lord."

"But Uncle James _is_ the lord."

"Nonsense, child."

"Mildred says so. She says he's lord of the manor. Mildred says it's
fine to be lord of the manor. But it doesn't make me care a button
about Uncle James."

"Don't speak like that, Beth. It's disrespectful. It was the Lord in
heaven I alluded to," said Aunt Grace Mary in her breathless way.

"Ah, that _is_ different," Beth allowed. "But I'm not afraid of Him
either. I don't think I'm afraid of any one really, not even of mamma,
though she does beat me. I'd rather she didn't, you know. But one gets
used to it. The worst of it is," Beth added, after sucking the point
of her pencil a little--"The worst of it is, you never know what will
make her waxy. To-day, at luncheon, you know--now, what did I say?"

"Oh," said Aunt Grace Mary vaguely; "you oughtn't to have said it, you
know."

"Now, that's just like mamma! She says 'Don't!' and 'How dare you!'
and 'Naughty girl!' at the top of her voice, and half the time I don't
know what she's talking about. When I grow up, I shall explain to
children. Do you know, sometimes I quite want to be good"--this with a
sigh. "But when I'm bad without having a notion what I've done, why,
it's difficult. Aunt Grace Mary, do you know what Neptune would say if
the sea dried up?" Aunt Grace Mary smiled and shook her head. "I
haven't an ocean," Beth proceeded. "You don't see it? Well, I didn't
at first. You see _an ocean_ and _a notion_ sound the same if you say
them sharp. Now, do you see? They call that a pun."

"Who told you that?"

"A gentleman in the train."

Beth put her pencil in her mouth, and gazed up at the sky. "I don't
suppose he'd be such a black-hearted villain as to break his word,"
she said at last.

"Who?" Aunt Grace Mary asked, in a startled tone.

"Uncle James--about leaving Jim the place, you know. Why, don't you
know? Mamma is the eldest, and ought to have had Fairholm, but she was
away in Ireland, busy having me, when grandpapa died, and couldn't
come; so Uncle James frightened the old man into leaving the place to
him, and mamma only got fifty pounds a year, which wasn't fair."

"Who told you this, Beth?"

"Mildred. Mamma told her. And Horner said the other day to cook--I'll
have to say it the way Horner says it. I