atin-stitch,
according to her order. Eustace looked at the plan, and finding it would
save time, they agreed that plain grass would look as well on a
firescreen, as all the crocodiles and elephants which with literal
deference to natural history Mrs. Mellicent had drawn up rank and file,
on each side Adam and Eve. The young architects anticipated the
departure of their friends with eagerness, and set about their scheme
the moment the calash drove off. The business was got through with great
alacrity, and though there were a few mistakes, and certainly no nice
finish as a whole, it was creditable to their mechanical skill, as well
as to their kind intentions.

Determining that the poney knew the road, and hoping to get a little
sleep in the cart, Eustace set off immediately on his mountain-expedition,
and Isabel busied herself in putting all things in order, and preparing
plumb-porridge, and sack-posset, as a festive regale to celebrate the
re-assembling of the family-party, who, she determined, should sup
merrily in the new library.

Eustace arrived first, in high spirits, but with his cloaths torn, and
his face bloody. Isabel was alarmed. "Nothing but a few scratches,"
answered he, "which I can cure with vinegar while you mend my coat. I
will tell you how I got them presently; but do you unpack the books,
while I take care of the poney. Stop a moment; there is something in the
cart you must not meddle with." Isabel inquired what it was. "Women are
so inquisitive," continued Eustace. "Well then, it is a lute;
Constance's own lute, which she lost the night of the fire." Isabel
inquired how he recovered it. "Fought for it," answered he; "I see you
will not be easy, so I must tell you all about it."

"The people of Fourness were very glad to see me, calling me Mr. Random,
and a great many more kind names; so we packed up the books, and they
sent some cheese for my uncle, and apples for Constance." "And nothing
for me?" said Isabel. "Pshaw," returned Eustace, "how you interrupt me;
I believe the apples are for you. So I came driving back very merrily,
and within a few miles of this village, I met a fellow carrying a box,
which I could perceive held a lute. I had plenty of money, for the
mountaineers would not let me spend it; so I thought if I can get this
lute, Constance will like the new library as well as she did the old
one, and I very civilly told the man I would buy it, and give him all he
asked for it.--But in you