ated with affability, it is difficult to enter
into the spirit of the joke. Several times I catch our guest's frank
eyes, watching me with inquiring wonder, as I respond with brief and
low-voiced hurry to some of my parent's friendly and fatherly queries as
to the disposition of my day. And I sit tongue-tied and hungry--for,
thank God, I have always had a large appetite--dumb as the butler and
footman--dumb as the racing-cups on the sideboard--dumber than Vick,
who, being a privileged person, is standing--very tall--on her
hind-legs, and pawing Sir Roger's coat-sleeve, with a small, impatient
whine.

"Why, Nancy, child!" says father, helping himself to sweetbread, and
smiling, "what made you in such a hurry to get away this morning out of
the park?"

(Why can't he always speak in that voice? always smile?--even his nose
looks a different shape.)

"Near--luncheon-time," reply I, indistinctly, with my head bent so low
that my nose nearly touches the little square of bare neck that my
muslin frock leaves exposed.

"Not a bit of it--half an hour off.--Why, Roger, I am afraid you had not
been making yourself agreeable! eh, Nancy?"

"No," say I, mumbling, "that is--yes--quite so."

"I was _very_ agreeable, as it happened--rather more brilliant than
usual, if possible, was not I? And, to clear my character, and prove
that you thought so, you will take me out for another walk, some day,
will not you?"

At the sound of his voice so evidently addressing me, I look up--look at
him.

"Yes! with pleasure! when you like!" I answer heartily, and I neither
mumble nor stutter, nor do I feel any disposition to drop my eyes. I
_like_ to look at him. For the rest of dinner I am absolutely mute, I
make only one other remark, and that is a request to one of the footmen
to give me some water. The evening passes. It is but a short one--at
least, as regards the company of the gentlemen, for they sit late;
father's port, I am told, not being to be lightly left for any female
frippery. I retire to the school-room, and regale my brethren with
lively representations of father's unexampled benignity. I also resume
with Algy the argument about _tongs_, at the very point where I had
dropped it. It lasts till prayer-time; and its monotony is relieved by
personalities. The devil in the boys is fairly quiescent to-night, and
our evening devotions pass over with tolerable peace; the only
_contretemps_ being that the Brat, having fallen asleep,