frame, with brass rosettes at the corners, over the
chimney-piece--the sole approach to the luxury of art in the homely
little place. Besides the muslin stretched across the lower part of
the window, it was undefended by curtains. There was no cat in the
room, nor was there one in the kitchen even; for Mrs. Falconer had
such a respect for humanity that she grudged every morsel consumed
by the lower creation. She sat in one of the arm-chairs belonging
to the hairy set, leaning back in contemplation of her grandson, as
she took her tea.

She was a handsome old lady--little, but had once been taller, for
she was more than seventy now. She wore a plain cap of muslin,
lying close to her face, and bordered a little way from the edge
with a broad black ribbon, which went round her face, and then,
turning at right angles, went round the back of her neck. Her gray
hair peeped a little way from under this cap. A clear but
short-sighted eye of a light hazel shone under a smooth thoughtful
forehead; a straight and well-elevated, but rather short nose, which
left the firm upper lip long and capable of expressing a world of
dignified offence, rose over a well-formed mouth, revealing more
moral than temperamental sweetness; while the chin was rather
deficient than otherwise, and took little share in indicating the
remarkable character possessed by the old lady.

After gazing at Robert for some time, she took a piece of oat-cake
from a plate by her side, the only luxury in which she indulged, for
it was made with cream instead of water--it was very little she ate
of anything--and held it out to Robert in a hand white, soft, and
smooth, but with square finger tips, and squat though pearly nails.
'Ha'e, Robert,' she said; and Robert received it with a 'Thank you,