Chapter XII.
The Roaring House.
"Why, Gatty!" said I, as we plodded over the Moor, "I had no Notion you didn't live in Larkfield!"
"But we do," said she, "in Larkfield Parish. We live in the Foreign, though not in the Borough. Didn't I ever tell you that? When my Father died, we gave up our Town-House, which was twenty Pounds by the Year, and took this, which is but fifteen."
It seemed to me a lonesome Situation enough; however, a large, cheerful Family prevents any House from seeming lonely; and soon we were in a snug, well-warmed, well-lighted Room. They were all very glad to see me; Gatty's Sisters were tall, lanky Girls, nothing to compare in Point of Looks with herself; but they seemed very sociable and merry, and their Mother was a quiet, kind-spoken Woman, whom I should never have guessed for a Kinswoman, however remote, of Lady Betty's.