sly, listened with wonder and awe to the news that the
fairy god-mother was no dream after all, but was really and truly
coming to see her, and finally went shrieking out to join in the game
of ball, on Charles Stuart's side, too, all forgetful that not ten
minutes before she had vowed against him an undying enmity.

CHAPTER III

A GENTEEL SABBATH

Elizabeth arose early the next morning, feeling at peace with all the
world. For the first time in her life she felt herself an important
member of the family. Her aunt had distinguished her by special
friendly notice, and had omitted to scold her when she went to bed the
night before. Besides, it was Sunday, and on the first day of the week
she almost always escaped disaster. First, her aunt was more genial on
Sunday, because the family was on its best behavior that day, and came
a little nearer to being genteel. Then Elizabeth was clothed in a
long, spotlessly clean, dun-colored pinafore, starched to the extremity
of discomfort, and her spirits, always colored by her surroundings,
were also subdued and confined.

The Gordons assembled for breakfast early on Sunday morning. Miss
Gordon saw that the Sabbath was strictly kept, but she believed the
idea of rest might be carried to indulgence, especially with young
people. So, on this particular morning, breakfast was at the usual
hour. Indeed, it was a little early, owing to the fact that Sarah
Emily, rejoiced at her reunion with the family, had arisen betimes and
broken the Sabbath by making a fine batch of breakfast biscuits. Sarah
Emily always sang at her work and had aroused the household, and
brought down the stern displeasure of Miss Gordon, who forbade the
unholy viands to be brought to the table.

The young Gordons assembled, sniffing hungrily and regretfully at the
pleasant odor. Sarah Emily caught their glances and made a sympathetic
grimace.

Mary giggled, but Elizabeth looked severe. She was in her best Sabbath
mood and felt that Sarah Emily was not at all genteel, nor Mary either.
It really gave one such a nice feeling to know one was genteel.
Involuntarily she glanced at her aunt for approbation. But Aunt
Margaret was looking at Annie, with a strange expression in her eyes,
an almost apologetic look Elizabeth would have thought if Aunt Margaret
could ever have been in such a mood. But that was quite impossible
with one who was always right. She was looking particularly handsome
this mor