“Very.  She went up to London last winter with her mama, and there everybody admired her, and a young lord fell in love with her:  but his relations were against the match; and —­ what do you think? —­ he and Miss Georgiana made it up to run away; but they were found out and stopped.  It was Miss Reed that found them out:  I believe she was envious; and now she and her sister lead a cat and dog life together; they are always quarrelling —­ "

“Well, and what of John Reed?”

“Oh, he is not doing so well as his mama could wish.  He went to college, and he got —­ plucked, I think they call it:  and then his uncles wanted him to be a barrister, and study the law:  but he is such a dissipated young man, they will never make much of him, I think.”

“What does he look like?”

“He is very tall:  some people call him a fine-looking young man; but he has such thick lips.”

“And Mrs. Reed?”

“Missis looks stout and well enough in the face, but I think she’s not quite easy in her mind:  Mr. John’s conduct does not please her- -he spends a deal of money.”

“Did she send you here, Bessie?”

“No, indeed:  but I have long wanted to see you, and when I heard that there had been a letter from you, and that you were going to another part of the country, I thought I’d just set off, and get a look at you before you were quite out of my reach.”

“I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie.”  I said this laughing:  I perceived that Bessie’s glance, though it expressed regard, did in no shape denote admiration.

“No, Miss Jane, not exactly:  you are genteel enough; you look like a lady, and it is as much as ever I expected of you:  you were no beauty as a child.”

I smiled at Bessie’s frank answer:  I felt that it was correct, but I confess I was not quite indifferent to its import:  at eighteen most people wish to please, and the conviction that they have not an exterior likely to second that desire brings anything but gratification.

“I dare say you are clever, though,” continued Bessie, by way of solace.  “What can you do?  Can you play on the piano?”

“A little.”

There was one in the room; Bessie went and opened it, and then asked me to sit down and give her a tune:  I played a waltz or two, and she was charmed.

“The Miss Reeds could not play as well!” said she exultingly.  “I always said you would surpass them in learning:  and can you draw?”

“That is one of my paintings over the chimney-piece.”  It was a landscape in water colours, of which I had made a present to the superintendent, in acknowledgment of her obliging mediation with the committee on my behalf, and which she had framed and glazed.

“Well, that is beautiful, Miss Jane!  It is as fine a picture as any Miss Reed’s drawing-master could paint, let alone the young ladies themselves, who could not come near it:  and have you learnt French?”