and the game-laws; and what not?  And if you once show them that you are afraid of them by going a step out of your way for their opinion about anything, there will be no end to it; for, the beginning of strife is like the letting out of water, as you know. I should know nothing about it, but that, my daughter’s maid—­I came to hear of it through her—­a decent girl of the name of Rogers, and born of decent parents, but unfortunately attached to the son of one of your churchwardens, who has put him into that mill on the river you can almost see from here.”

“Who put him in the mill?”

“His own father, to whom it belongs.”

“Well, it seems to me a very good match for her.”

“Yes, indeed, and for him too.  But his foolish father thinks the match below him, as if there was any difference between the positions of people in that rank of life!  Every one seems striving to tread on the heels of every one else, instead of being content with the station to which God has called them.  I am content with mine.  I had nothing to do with putting myself there.  Why should they not be content with theirs?  They need to be taught Christian humility and respect for their superiors.  That’s the virtue most wanted at present.  The poor have to look up to the rich”—­

“That’s right, grannie!  And the rich have to look down on the poor.”

“No, my dear.  I did not say that.  The rich have to be kind to the poor.”

“But, grannie, why did you marry Mr Oldcastle?”

“What does the child mean?”

“Uncle Stoddart says you refused ever so many offers when you were a girl.”

“Uncle Stoddart has no business to be talking about such things to a chit like you,” returned the grandmother. smiling, however, at the charge, which so far certainly contained no reproach.

“And grandpapa was the ugliest and the richest of them all—­wasn’t he, grannie? and Colonel Markham the handsomest and the poorest?”

A flush of anger crimsoned the old lady’s pale face.  It looked dead no longer.

“Hold your tongue,” she said.  “You are rude.”

And Miss Gladwyn did hold her tongue, but nothing else, for she was laughing all over.

The relation between these two was evidently a very odd one.  It was clear that Miss Gladwyn was a spoiled child, though I could not help thinking her very nicely spoiled, as far as I saw; and that the old lady persisted in regarding her as a cub, although her claws had grown quite long enough to be dangerous.  Certainly, if things went on thus, it was pretty clear which of them would soon have the upper hand, for grannie was vulnerable, and Pet was not.

It really began to look as if there were none but characters in my parish.  I began to think it must be the strangest parish in England, and to wonder that I had never heard of it before.  “Surely it must be in some story-book at least!” I said to myself.