ground, but when Mrs. Caldwell appeared, she gave the signal, the
piano stopped, and the strange beast roared loudly and fled.

But Beth had her human moments. They generally came on in wet weather,
which depressed her. She would then stand in the drawing-room window
by the hour together, looking out at the miserable street, thinking of
the poor people, all cold and wet and hungry. She longed to do
something for them, and one day she stopped a little girl who was
going with a jug for some beer to the "Shining Star," a quiet little
public-house on the same side of the street.

"I suppose you are a very ignorant little girl," said Beth severely.

"Aw?"

"What's your name?"

"Emily Bean."

"Do you learn lessons?"

"Naw."

"Dear me, how dreadful!" said Beth. "You ought to be taught, you know.
Would you like to be taught?"

"Ah should."

"Well, you come here every afternoon at two o'clock, and I'll teach
you."

"Ah mon jest ass mother first," said Emily.

"Yes--I'd forgotten that," Beth rejoined. "Well, you come if she lets
you."

Emily nodded, and was going on her errand, but stopped. "Did you ass
yer own mother if you might?" she wanted to know.

"No, I didn't think of that either," Beth rejoined. "But I will."

"Will she let you?"

"I don't know"--rather doubtfully.

"I expect she will if you wait until she's in a good humour," the
child of the people sagely suggested.

"All right. You come at any rate," Beth answered boldly.

Mrs. Caldwell consented. She came of a long line of lady patronesses,
and thought it natural and becoming that her child should wish to
improve the "common people." Punctually to the moment Emily arrived
next day, and Beth sat down with her in the kitchen, and taught her a,
b, ab, and b, a, d, bad. Then she repeated a piece of poetry to her,
and read her a little story. Harriet was busy in the back kitchen, and
Bernadine was out with her mother and Aunt Victoria, so Beth and her
pupil had the kitchen to themselves. The next day, however, Harriet
wanted to clean the kitchen, so they had to retire to the acting-room.
This was Beth's first attempt to apply such knowledge as she
possessed, and in her anxiety to improve the child of the people, she
improved herself in several respects. She began to read better, became
less afraid of writing and spelling, mastered the multiplication
table, and found she could "make out" how to do easy sums from the
book. This gave her the first