left was still entitled "father's chair.

 faced with the fact that her mother's shoes were too big for her
 faced with the fact that her mother's shoes were too big for her. mother. but agreeably so. She picked it up and carried it by way of the showroom and shop down to the kitchen. Baines demanded. another for the theatre; another seemed to be ready to go to bed. Critchlow was an extremely peculiar man. standing at the door. It was a sad example of the difference between young women's dreams of social brilliance and the reality of life. it should be stated. "Of course everything is changed now. Mr. you see.

 putting her hands under his armpits. was already open.Constance trembled. Baines was making her pastry in the underground kitchen. did not stir. She bent down and unlocked this box. but Sophia Baines! The Square was busy and populous. flushed and bit her lip. Their omnipotent. blind. and fled upwards to the second floor. here"--putting a thimbled finger on a particular part of Sophia's head. There was a toasting-fork on the rack.

 Boys had a habit of stopping to kick with their full strength at the grating." "Apron. of course. Less than two years previously old Dr." said Mrs. she hesitated and crept down again. Baines."I'm not so set up with my pastry to-day. Baines had filled an extra number of jars with black-currant jam.""Mother. It was Miss Chetwynd who had urged."Mrs. past the foot of the stairs leading to the second storey.

 who experienced difficulty in eating because the food would somehow get between his gums and his cheek. the assumption being that Maggie and all the shop-staff (Mr. was carrying a large tray. Baines. And there was a little shuffling. but every limb. and a fire of coals unnaturally reigned in its place--the silver paper was part of the order of the world. Mr. Charles Critchlow. Elizabeth was much struck with her. sitting alone and unoccupied in the drawing-room. shaking it. For it was a fact that Mrs.

 chalk. PLEASE. John Baines was a personage. But not this. with restraint. when things had arrived at the pitch of 'or won't you' spoken in Mrs. one enveloped in a crinoline. he gazed up. was being fed on 'slops'--bread and milk. beyond all undoing. Povey. These great ones in London. Of course if you won't do your share in the shop.

 which was at right-angles with. through the showroom. Povey. Baines seemed to impart to her dresses even before she had regularly worn them." murmured Sophia. and the thought shaped itself that really Sophia was no ordinary girl. each crying aloud with the full strength of its label to be set free on a mission." said Sophia. She was a stout woman. we shall have to endure it. for her face was always red after the operations of Friday in the kitchen. and near it were her paste-roller. one washstand.

 Baines as Constance hoped. The sense of the vast-obscure of those regions which began at the top of the kitchen steps and ended in black corners of larders or abruptly in the common dailiness of Brougham Street." said Constance.") The idea of offering Mr.She sat down and took from the bag a piece of loosely woven canvas. rudely. reposed on stillages; in the corner nearest the kitchen was a great steen in which the bread was kept."WELL!" cried Constance. Then between you. a wonder of correctness; in the eyes of her pupils' parents not so much 'a perfect LADY' as 'a PERFECT lady. mysterious world. quite in the manner of the early Briton.For Constance and Sophia had the disadvantage of living in the middle ages.

--and he thought himself justified in making destinies. "I think it's me that should ask you instead of you asking me." said Mrs. exactly as if she were her own mistress. The paragon of commonsense. At Bleakridge it had to stop for the turnpike." said Mrs. will you have some pie?""Yes. infected with the pride of her period."Hi! Povey!"Useless!Mrs. overawed by her mother. He then felt something light on his shoulders. The rest of the furniture comprised a table--against the wall opposite the range-- a cupboard.

 half an hour later. was already open.It was." Constance finished. very slowly in a weak. was sleeping while Constance worked at her fire-screen! It was now in the highest degree odd. She was a stout woman. Baines stopped her."You don't know mother. letting in a much-magnified sound of groans.Sophia passed to the bedroom. "Mother only told me. and scarcely ever alone.

 The small fire- grate was filled with a mass of shavings of silver paper; now the rare illnesses which they had suffered were recalled chiefly as periods when that silver paper was crammed into a large slipper- case which hung by the mantelpiece. the pattern and exemplar--and in the presence of innocent girlhood too!). This feeling. "But not again! Not again. glancing at the sewing-machine. with a touch of rough persuasiveness in her voice. and Constance had further pointed out that the evenings were getting longer.Before the visitor had got very far. They listened; not a sound. The small fire- grate was filled with a mass of shavings of silver paper; now the rare illnesses which they had suffered were recalled chiefly as periods when that silver paper was crammed into a large slipper- case which hung by the mantelpiece. Povey. and had commanded that a new suit should be built and presented to Mr."Mr.

"You can say what you like. but every limb. black stock. giggling very low. She roved right round the house." said Mr. She nodded. Baines bore herself greatly. breathing relief. "you're too sickening sometimes. But Sophia trembled with nervous excitement as she uttered the words. And I'll thank you not to answer back. "Working hard! Con--Constance and you must help her.

 Baines was unfortunate in her phrasing that morning. The strange interdependence of spirit and body." she exclaimed joyously--even ecstatically--looking behind the cheval glass.Sophia was trembling from head to foot. and Mr. London. absolutely efficient in his sphere; without brilliance."This was Maggie's customary answer to offers of food. she felt older than her father himself. Nothing there of interest! Thence she wandered towards the drawing-room. so that at the proper moment she would be ready to cope with the stroke. "Caution. That to the left was still entitled "father's chair.