her opinion, which was that of all sensible people, it mattered immensely.
"As though it could!" persisted Milly.
"My dear," said Mrs. Wren, "that is shallow and ignorant. A baronetcy is a baronetcy. All people of breeding think so, anyway."
The prospect of Uncle Jacob's elevation had already been canvassed in Broad Place by Charles, his nephew. There was evidently something in the wind Whitehall way. Uncle Jacob had professed such a heroic indifference to Aunt Priscilla's intelligent anticipations, that even Charles, his nephew, the simplest of simple souls, and a singularly unworldly young man, had been constrained to take an interest in the matter. As for Aunt Priscilla, she had been in such a state of flutter for the past two months, that the upper servants at Thole Park, Maidstone, even had visions of an earldom. Still, as Mr. Bryant, the butler, who in his distinguished youth had graduated at Bridport House, Mayfair, remarked to Mrs. Jennings the housekeeper in his statesmanlike way, "The Limit for baby's underclothing is a baronetcy."
II
Breakfast was just at an end when the trim parlormaid came into the room with a portentous-looking milliner's box. It had that moment arrived, and on examination was found to contain a long coat of sable. This enchanting garment was with Mary's best wishes for future happiness.
The donor was scolded roundly for her lavishness, but Milly was delighted by the gift, and Mrs. Wren, who
