sisting her in her researches--but in
reality, to be getting in her way, and begging for everything we saw. It
was, "Mamma, mayn't we have this?" or, "mayn't we have that?" or "Do say
yes, just this once; and we'll never ask you for anything again as long
as we live--never," a promise faithfully kept till next time.

Mamma sometimes tried to go up very softly, in order to elude our
vigilance; but it wouldn't do. She often wondered how we found out that
that she was there, but we seldom missed an opportunity. Now and then a
dear little pitcher, or a vase of cream-colored ground with a wreath of
faint pink roses traced around it, or a cluster of bright-colored
flowers in the centre, arrested our attention, and called forth
rhapsodies of admiration. I supposed that everybody had just such a
room; and it was very probable, I thought, that Mrs. Eylton might chance
to open hers during our visit. Therefore I decided that, notwithstanding
my terror of the lady, a greater amount of pleasure might be obtained
by going there, than by staying at home.

So Jane, with her own trim person as neat as possible, bore off her
charges to the nursery, in order, as she said, "to make us fit to be
seen." "Mrs. Eylton might see this," or "notice that," and I felt
uncomfortably convinced that Mrs. Eylton must possess the sharpest pair
of eyes it had ever been my misfortune to encounter. Finally, we set
off; I remember being dressed in a white frock, with a broad sash, and
experiencing a consciousness of looking remarkably well, in spite of my
hair--which, having obstinately repulsed all Jane's advances with tongs
and curl-papers, was suffered to remain in all its native straightness.

It was summer, and a multiflora rose-vine, which extended over the front
of the parsonage, was then in full flower; while, as we mounted the
steps, I distinguished through the green blind door glimpses of a
pleasant-looking garden beyond. We entered the back parlor, where sat
Mrs. Eylton attired for a walk, and surrounded by three children, all
younger than myself. The minister's lady did not appear quite so
formidable on a close survey; though the aspect of her countenance was
by no means promising, as her eye fell upon us.

"Well, Jane," she commenced, in the tone of one who felt herself
injured, "you have kept me waiting some time--how is this? Punctuality
is a virtue very becoming in a young person."

Jane looked exceedingly disconcerted at this address; b