“I see what you mean,” said Miss Noel.  “That dear, sweet girl Bijou has had no practical training whatever.  She was amazed that I should make Ethel dye her white kid slippers (when they were soiled) for morning use; and when she saw me getting up some dainty bits of old point that I do not trust to Parsons, she asked me why I bothered with the old stuff and didn’t buy new.  She has absolutely no idea of the value of money or of household management.  On the other hand, that little Mrs. Grey, their friend, told me that she did all the sewing for her twelve children; and Mrs. Grey has not taken a holiday of even a few weeks for twenty years.  I can’t think how it is they don’t break down altogether.”

But it was the children of the Brown household that awakened the liveliest surprise in the minds of these ladies,—­an astonishment wholly free from admiration or approval, for they were children of a type with which Americans are sadly familiar, but which had never come under their notice before.  The little Graysons were utterly undisciplined, and got their own way in everything.  Their grandfather, aunt, mother, and nurses combined were powerless to control them, and would give them anything but what they most needed.  They pervaded the whole house, and were the hub of it; they ate at all hours, and of whatever they fancied.  They had no regular hour for going to bed, but fell asleep everywhere, and were removed with the utmost precaution.  Mrs. Sykes, going there, would find them jumping up and down with muddy feet on the drawing-room sofas or playing on the new grand piano with the poker.  Miss Noel one day found Mr. Brown in a great state of perturbation, calling out, “Helen!  Jane!  Bijou!  Come here, quick!  The baby is bumping his head on the floor!” (The baby being three years old.) “Don’t get angry, darling.  If you won’t bump your head, grandpa will bring you a wax doll from Kalsing to-morrow.”  Another day, baby’s sister in banging on the window-pane struck through the glass and cut her fist.  “Poor little dear!  Poor childie!  Let me bind it up quickly.  Harry, love, bid nurse fetch the arnica at once,” exclaimed Miss Noel; but the patient stamped and shrieked, and would not have her hand examined or doctored by anybody, whereupon her admiring mother said, “Jenny has always been that way.  She has a great deal of character, Miss Noel.”

“A very undisciplined one, I fear,” replied that lady emphatically.  She could scarcely believe that she heard aright when, on asking this model parent what her plans were for the summer, she said,—­

“I am going to try Saratoga again.  We were there last year, and I went prepared to stay until the 1st of October.  I liked it very much; it was very gay and pleasant; but Harry got tired of it, and wouldn’t stay after the second week, so I packed up and went to Long Branch, which he has always liked.”

“Your brother, or uncle?” inquired Miss Noel, in perfect good faith.