face as bright as all the rest was turned towards the window.

'Ah! give her her scholars, and she never knows how time passes,'
said Mr. Dusautoy. 'But step this way, and I'll show you the best
view in Bayford.' He took her up a step or two, to a little turfed
mound, where there was a rustic seat commanding the whole exquisite
view of river, vale, and woodland, with the church tower rising in
the foreground. The wind blew pleasantly, chasing the shadows of the
clouds across the open space. Albinia was delighted to feel it fan
her brow, and her eager exclamations contented Mr. Dusautoy. 'Yes,'
he said, 'it was all Fanny's notion. She planned it all last summer
when I took her round the garden. It is wonderful what an eye she
has! I only hope when the dry weather comes, that I shall be able to
get her up there to enjoy it.'

On coming down they found that Mrs. Dusautoy had dismissed her class,
and come out to a low, long-backed sloping garden-seat at the window.
She was very little and slight, a mere doll in proportion to her
great husband, who could lift her as easily and tenderly as a baby,
paying her a sort of reverential deference and fond admiration that
rendered them a beautiful sight, in such full, redoubled measure was
his fondness repaid by the little, clever, fairy-looking woman, with
her playful manner, high spirits, keen wit, and the active habits
that even confirmed invalidism could not destroy. She had small
deadly white hands, a fair complexion, that varied more than was good
for her, pretty, though rather sharp and irregular features, and
hazel eyes dancing with merriment, and face and figure at some years
above thirty, would have suited a girl of twenty. To see Mr.
Dusautoy bringing her footstools, shawls, and cushions, and to
remember the accusation of starvation, was almost irresistibly