There is one other--just one other." "And, for the sake of science, what is that ?" "A woman with a sharp tongue, Miss Charlotte .-- Sophie, I don't think much of these last soups.

Your famous cook's degenerating, take my word." And so on, while Charlotte colored, and was silent through the meal.

She knew her tongue was sharp; she knew that she was self-willed and was not humble.

But she had not taken herself in hand, religiously; to take one's self in hand morally, or on grounds of expediency, never amounts to much; and such taking in hand was all that Charlotte had as yet attempted.

In a little passion of self-reproach and mortification, she occasionally lopped off ugly shoots; but the root was still vigorous and lusty, and only grew the better for its petty pruning.