so I have a full view of them all the time.  He has box-pleated teeth—­which seem quite unnecessary when dentists are so good now.  No one would have missed at least four of them if they had been pulled out when he was a boy.  His eyes are wishy-washy in spite of being brown, and he looks as if he did not have enough sleep.  They were all three self-conscious and conscious of other people.  Grandmamma says in a public place, unless the exigencies of politeness require one to come into personal contact with people, one ought never to be aware that there is anything but tables and chairs about.  I have not once in my life seen her even glance around, and yet nothing escapes her hawk eye.  Coming out they passed me on the path to the church gate, and Mrs. Gurrage stopped, and said: 

“Good-mornin’, me dear; you must be our new tenant at the cottage.”

Her voice is the voice of quite a common person and has the broad accent of some county—­I don’t know which.

I was so astonished at being called “me dear” by a stranger that for half a second I almost forgot grandmamma’s maxim of “let nothing in life put you out of countenance.”  However, I did manage to say: 

“Yes, I am Miss Athelstan.”

Then the young man said, “I hope you find everything to your liking there, and that my agent has made things comfortable.”

“We are quite pleased with the cottage,” I said.

“Well, don’t stand on ceremony,” the old woman continued.  “Come up and see us at The Hall whenever you like, me dear, and I’ll be round callin’ on your grandma one of these days soon, but don’t let that stop her if she likes to look in at me first.”

I thought of grandmamma “looking in” on this person, and I could have laughed aloud; however, I managed to say, politely, that my grandmother was an aged lady and somewhat rheumatic, and as we had not a carriage I hoped Mrs. Gurrage would excuse her paying her respects in person.

“Rheumatic, is she?  Well, I have the very thing for the j’ints.  My still-room maid makes it under my own directions.  I’ll bring some when I call.  Good-day to you, me dear,” and they bustled on into the arms of the parson’s family and other people who were waiting to give them a gushing welcome at the gate.

Grandmamma laughed so when I told her about them!

Two days afterwards Mrs. Gurrage and Miss Hoad (the red-haired girl is the niece) came to call.

Grandmamma was seated as usual in the old Louis XV. bergere, which is one of our household gods.  It does not go with the other furniture in the room, which is a “drawing-room suite” of black and gold, upholstered with magenta, but we have covered that up as well as we can with pieces of old brocade from grandmamma’s stored treasures.

After the first greetings were over and Mrs. Gurrage had seated herself in the other arm-chair, her knees pointing north and south, she began about the rheumatism stuff for the “j’ints.”