thing a chance, and in an age of transformation we must turn up our social deposits. If it were not so, life would be a donkey-race with the prize for the last."
"When I was companion to her ladyship," began Mrs. Saltren, but was cut short by her brother—
"I beg your pardon, Marianne, when was that? I only knew you as lady's maid."
"I was more than that," said Mrs. Saltren flushing.
"Oh, of course, lady without the maid."
"I might, I daresay, have been my lady, and have kept my maid," said Mrs. Saltren, tossing her head, "so there is no point in your sneers, James. You may be a gentleman, but I am a captain's wife, and might have been more."
"Oh, indeed, and how came you not to be more?"
"Because I did not choose."
"In fact," said Welsh, "you thought you were in for a donkey-race. By George, you have got the prize!"
"You are really too bad," exclaimed Mrs. Saltren, vexed and angry; "I could tell you things that would surprise you. You think nothing of me because I am not rich or grand, and have to do the house work in my home; but I have been much considered in my day, and admired, and sought. And I have had my wrongs, which I thought to have carried with me to my grave, but as you choose to insult me, your sister, with saying I came in last at a donkey-race, I will tell you that properly I ought to have come in first."
"And I," said Saltren, standing up, "I insist on your speaking out." He had remained silent for some time, offended at his brother-in-law's incredulity, and not particularly interested in what he was saying, which seemed to him trifling.
"Let us hear," said Welsh, with a curl of his lips. He had no great respect for his sister. "You must let me observe in passing that just now you did not come in first
