she produced as she laid the card on the table, and gave another ringing peel of merriment at the sight of her hostess's half-angry, half-astonished look. 'What do you think I want to do with him? I could swallow him at a single bite!' she cried.
Poor Amanda gave no second glance at the document on the table, though she had perceived it contained, in the corner, her visitor's address, which Millicent had amused herself, ingeniously, with not mentioning: she only got up, laying down her work with a trembling hand, so that she should be able to see Miss Henning well out of the house. 'You needn't think I shall put myself out to keep him in the dark. I shall certainly tell him you have been here, and exactly how you strike me.'
'Of course you'll say something nasty—like you used to when I was a child. You let me 'ave it then, you know!'
'Ah, well,' said Miss Pynsent, nettled at being reminded of an acerbity which the girl's present development caused to appear ridiculously ineffectual, 'you are very different now, when I think what you've come from.'
'What I've come from?' Millicent threw back her head, and opened her eyes very wide, while all her feathers and ribbons nodded. 'Did you want me to stick fast in this low place for the rest of my days? You have had to stay in it yourself, so you might speak civilly of it.' She coloured, and raised her voice, and looked magnificent in her scorn. 'And pray what have you come from yourself, and what has he come from—the mysterious "Mr. Robinson," that used to be such a puzzle to the whole Place? I thought
