“O doing so o college, and —plucked, I t: and ted o be a barrister, and study t ed young man, think.”

    “ does he look like?”

    “all: some people call  hick lips.”

    “And Mrs. Reed?”

    “Missis looks stout and  quite easy in  does not please her—he spends a deal of money.”

    “Did she send you here, Bessie?”

    “No, indeed: but I ed to see you, and ter from you, and t you o anot of try, I t I’d just set of, and get a look at you before you e out of my reach.”

    “I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie.” I said t Bessie’s glance, t expressed regard, did in no se admiration.

    “No, Miss Jane, not exactly: you are genteel enoug is as muced of you: you y as a child.”

    I smiled at Bessie’s frank ans t it , but I confess I  quite indifferent to its import: at eig people ion t t an exterior likely to second t desire brings anyt gratification.

    “I dare say you are clever, tinued Bessie, by he piano?”

    “A little.”

    t and opened it, and to sit doz or two, and she was charmed.

    “t play as hem in learning: and can you draw?”

    “t is one of my paintings over t er colours, of o tendent, in ackno of ion tee on my behalf, and which she had framed and glazed.

    “ell, t is beautiful, Miss Jane! It is as fine a picture as any Miss Reed’s draer could paint, let alone t come near it: and  French?”

    “Yes, Bessie, I can bot and speak it.”

    “And you can work on muslin and canvas?”

    “I can.”