ore her,
taking no notice. At last Harriet had occasion to open the oven door,
and just as she did so there was a loud explosion, and the kitchen
wall opposite was bespattered with boiling animal matter. Beth had got
up early, and collected snails enough in the garden to fill a
blacking-bottle, corked them up tight, and put them into the darkest
corner of the oven, her idea being to render them into oil, as Harriet
rendered suet into fat, and go and rub rheumatic people with it. As
usual, however, her motive was ignored, while a great deal was made of
the mess on the kitchen wall--which disheartened her, especially as
several other philanthropic enterprises happened to fail about the
same time.

Emily appeared with a bad toothache one day, and finding a remedy for
it gave Beth a momentary interest in life. She told Emily she had a
cure for toothache, and Emily, never doubting, let her put some soft
substance into the tooth with the end of a match.

"It won't taste very nice," said Beth; "but you mustn't mind that. You
just go home, and you'll find it won't ache any more."

When Emily returned next day she gratefully proclaimed herself cured,
and her mother wanted to know "whatever the stuff was."

"Soap," said Beth.

"Oh, you mucky thing!" Emily exclaimed. She resented the application
of such a substance to the inside of her person. Her plebeian mind was
too narrow to conceive a second legitimate use for soap, and from that
day Beth's influence declined. Emily's attendance became irregular,
then gradually ceased altogether; not, however, before Beth's own
interest in the lessons was over, and her mind much occupied with
other things.

CHAPTER XVII

The dower-house of the Benyon family stood in a street which was
merely an extension of Orchard Street, and could be seen from Mrs.
Caldwell's windows. Lady Benyon, having produced a huge family, and
buried her husband, had done her day's work in the world, as it were,
and now had full leisure to live as she liked; so she "lived well";
and in the intervals of living, otherwise eating, she sat in the big
bow-window of her sitting-room, digesting, and watching her
neighbours. From her large old-fashioned house she commanded a fine
view down the wide irregular front street to the sea, with a diagonal
glimpse down two other streets which ran parallel with the front
street; while on the left she could see up Orchard Street as far as
the church; so that everybody