Carrie Gore let me in to the Mill kitchen through the meal room and loft over the machinery, and there was Mrs. Gore making up the bread into loaves and putting them into the oven. Good-natured nice Carrie, with her brown hair arranged in a bush round her jolly broad open frank face, and her fine lusty arms bare, entertained me by playing on the jingling old harpsichord, sitting very stiff and straight and upright to the work with her chair drawn in as near as possible to the key-board so that she was obliged to lean a little back quite stiff. She played some hymn tunes correctly, but what I admired most was her good nature, good breeding and perfect manners in sitting down to play directly she was asked without any false shame or false modesty, without shilly-shallying or holding back that she might be asked again, but just sitting straight down, doing what she was asked and doing her best at once without any nonsense, in a good-tempered cheerful way that many young ladies might copy with advantage. She is as nice and good a girl as you will meet in a day’s march. << less