"A careful mistress," observed Ned.
"The cross old crab!" exclaimed his nephew, both speaking at the same moment.
"Oh, no, she's not cross," cried Norah. "My mistress is good, very good; I never knew any one like her but Mr. Curtis, our vicar, and my dear kind teacher at school."
"You'd like her a deal better, I guess, if she wasn't so strict," said Mrs. Peele.
"I don't know, I'm not quite sure of that," replied Norah, in a hesitating tone. "I should like Mrs. Martin to see more company, and to let me have a little more freedom, but she does not keep me in out of crossness. If you only knew how good she is to the poor, and how dearly she loves her Bible, and how patient she is when in pain, and she suffers a great, great deal, 'specially from her poor eyes, but she never murmurs at all!" The girl's face kindled with emotion as she spoke of her kind old mistress, and Ned watched it with a feeling of pleasure, while his heart warmed towards his young niece.
"Blessings on the child, they've not spoilt her yet," thought he. "She sees the light, and she's bearing towards it; shame is it that those nearest to her should try to turn her out of her course."
[CHAPTER III.]
PROFESSION AND PRACTICE.
"MIND now that you manage to give the old woman the slip, and have a jolly night of it with your friend Sophy Puller—" such were the words with which Dan Peele parted from his sister, as she set out with the sailor on her long walk back to the county town in which her mistress resided.
It was a glorious evening. The sun had just stink below the horizon, but lines of glowing fire showed where his orb had dipped below the blue hills, and his beams had left a rich rosy flush on the clouds that floated above.