a had a good
husband. Grandpapa was an awful old rip, you know."

Aunt Victoria stared at her aghast.

"He used to drink," Beth proceeded, lowering her voice, and glancing
round mysteriously as the old servants at Fairholm did when they
discussed these things; "and grandmamma couldn't bear his ways or his
language, and used to shut herself up in her own room more and more,
and they never agreed, and at last she went quite mad, so the saying
came true. Did you never hear the saying? Why, you know her father's
crest was a raven, and grandpapa's crest was a bee, and for
generations the families had lived near each other and never been
friends; and it was said, if the blood of the bees and the ravens were
ever put in the same bowl it wouldn't mingle. Do you say 'if it were,'
or 'if it was,' Aunt Victoria? Mamma says 'if it were.'"

"_We_ were taught to say 'if it was,'" Aunt Victoria answered stiffly;
"but your mamma may know better."

Beth thought about this for a minute, then set it aside for further
inquiry, and dispassionately resumed. "That was a mean trick of Uncle
James's, but it was rather clever too; I should never have thought of
it. I mean with the fly, you know. When grandpapa died, Uncle James
got his will and altered it, so that mamma mightn't have any money;
and he put a fly in grandpapa's mouth, and swore that the will was
signed by his hand while there was life in him."

"My dear child," said Aunt Victoria sharply, "who told you such a
preposterous story?"

"Oh, I heard it about the place," Beth answered casually; "everybody
knows it." She took another needleful of thread, and sewed on steadily
for a little, and Aunt Victoria kept glancing at her meanwhile, with a
very puzzled expression.

"But what I want to know is _why_ did grandmamma stay with grandpapa
if he were, or was, such a very bad man?" Beth said suddenly.

"Because it was her duty," said Aunt Victoria.

"And what was his duty?"

"I think, Beth," said the old lady, "you have done sewing enough for
this afternoon. Run out into the garden."

Beth knew that this was only an excuse not to answer her, but she
folded her work up obediently, observing as she did so, however, with
decision, "If _I_ ever have a bad husband, I shall _not_ stay with
him, for I can't see what good comes of it."

"Your grandmamma had her children to think of," said Aunt Victoria.

"But what good did she do them?" Beth wanted to know. "She devoted
herself to