It was, indeed, chiefly a one-sided friendship; for Lucy, who was quick and unconsciously capable of reading that book to which we alluded in a previous chapter, was somewhat afraid of the rich widow.

And when Lizzie talked to her of their old childish days, and quoted poetry, and spoke of things romantic,--as she was much given to do,--Lucy felt that the metal did not ring true.

And then Lizzie had an ugly habit of abusing all her other friends behind their backs.

Now Lucy did not like to hear the Greystocks abused, and would say so.

"That's all very well, you little minx," Lizzie would say playfully, "but you know that they are all asses!" Lucy by no means thought that the Greystocks were asses, and was very strongly of opinion that one of them was as far removed from being an ass as any human being she had ever known.