'I do not wonder,' said Ethel. 'There is a certain likeness to that
poor little Leonora, and I think Flora misses her more every year.'

'Such a child as Margaret is just the thing to cause the other to be
missed.'

'What do you think of Margaret this time?' said Ethel, for Tom alone
ever durst seriously touch on the undefined impression that all
entertained of Flora's only child.

'If Flora were only silly about her,' said Tom, 'one might have some
hope; but unluckily she is as judicious there as in everything else,
and the child gets more deplorable every year. She has got the look
of deformity, and yet she is not deformed; and the queer sullen ways
of deficiency, but she has more wit than her father already, and more
cunning.'

'As long as there is a mind to work on, one hopes' said Ethel.

'I could stand her better if she were foolish!' exclaimed Tom, 'but I
can't endure to see her come into the room to be courted by every
one, and be as cross as she dares before her mother. Behind Flora's
back, I don't know which she uses worst, her father or her
grandfather. I came down upon little Miss at last for her treatment
of the Doctor, and neither he nor Rivers have forgiven me.'

'Poor child! I don't believe she has ever known a moment's thorough
health or comfort! I always hope that with Flora's patience and
management she may improve.'