Beatrice, on the contrary, seemed instantly to take in the spirit of the place.

Her face flushed; a proud light came into her glorious eyes; her haughty head was carried more regally than ever.

There was no timidity, no shyly expressed wonder, no sensitive shrinking from new and unaccustomed splendor.
They were deeply impressed with the magnificence of their new home.
For many long days Lady Earle employed herself in showing the numerous treasures of art and vertu the house contained.

The picture gallery pleased Beatrice most; she gloried in the portraits of the grand old ancestors, "each with a story to his name." One morning she stood before Lady Helena's portrait, admiring the striking likeness.
Suddenly turning to the stately lady by her side, she said: "All the Ladies Earle are here; where is my own mamma?
Her face is sweet and fair as any of these.

Why is there no portrait of her ?" "There will be one some day," said Lady Helena.