"I'm to consult my beautiful mother," said he, kissing her.
"What, does she think I am like my picture now ?" "I suppose so.

And you are as beautiful as ever in my eyes, mother.

And I do consult you." Mrs.Little's black eyes flashed; but she said, calmly, "What about, dearest ?" "I really don't know.

I suppose it was about what happened tonight.
Perhaps about it all." Mrs.Little leaned her head upon her hand and thought.
After a moment's reflection, she said to Henry, rather coldly, "If she is not a very good girl, she must be a very clever one." "She is both," said Henry, warmly.
"Of that I shall be the best judge," said Mrs.Little, very coldly indeed.
Poor Henry felt quite chilled.

He said no more; nor did his mother return to the subject till they parted for the night, and then it was only to ask him what church Miss Carden went to--a question that seemed to be rather frivolous, but he said he thought St.Margaret's.
Next Sunday evening, Mrs.Little and he being at tea together, she said to him quietly--"Well, Harry, I have seen her." "Oh mother! where ?" "At St.Margaret's Church." "But how did you know her?
By her beauty ?" Mrs.Little smiled, and took a roll of paper out of her muff, that lay on the sofa.