he best bedroom. Sophia could not
attend to her work, and presently gave information that Fanny and Mary
were in the orchard. She was desired to call them, and presently Fanny
and Mary appeared at the window,--twins of ten years old, and very
pretty little girls.

"My dears," said Mrs Grey, "has Miss Young done with you for to-day?"

"Oh yes, mamma. It is just six o'clock. We have been out of school
this hour almost."

"Then come in, and make yourselves neat, and sit down with us. I should
not wonder if the Miss Ibbotsons should be here now before you are
ready. But where is Sydney?"

"Oh, he is making a pond in his garden there. He dug it before school
this morning, and he is filling it now."

"Yes," said the other; "and I don't know when he will have done, for as
fast as he fills it, it empties again, and he says he cannot think how
people keep their ponds filled."

"He must have done now, however," said his mother. "I suppose he is
tearing his clothes to pieces with drawing the water-barrel, and wetting
himself to the skin besides."

"And spoiling his garden," said Fanny. "He has dug up all his hepaticas
and two rose-bushes to make his pond."

"Go to him, my dears, and tell him to come in directly, and dress
himself for tea. Tell him I insist upon it. Do not run. Walk quietly.
You will heat yourselves, and I do not like Mrs Rowland to see you
running."

Mary informed her brother that he was to leave his pond and come in, and
Fanny added that mamma insisted upon it. They had time to do this, to
walk quietly, to have their hair made quite smooth, and to sit down with
their two dolls on each side the common cradle, in a corner of the
drawing-room, before the Miss Ibbotsons arrived.

The Miss Ibbotsons were daughters of a distant relation of Mr Grey's.
Their mother had been dead many years; they had now just lost their
father, and were left without any nearer relation than Mr Grey. He had
invited them to visit his family while their father's affairs were in
course of arrangement, and till it could be discovered what their means
of living were likely to be. They had passed their lives in Birmingham,
and had every inclination to return to it, when their visit to their
Deerbrook relations should have been paid. Their old schoolfellows and
friends all lived there: and they thought it would be easier and
pleasanter to make the smallest income supply their wants in their
native town, than to remove