silent. Ethel here bethought herself of inquiring after
Mr. Rivers, and then for George.

Mr. Rivers was pretty well--George, quite well, and somewhere in the
garden; and Meta said that he had such a beard that they would hardly
know him; while Flora added that he was delighted with the Oxford
scheme. Flora's rooms had been, already, often shown to her sisters,
when Mr. Rivers had been newly furnishing them, with every luxury and
ornament that taste could devise. Her dressing-room, with the large bay
window, commanding a beautiful view of Stoneborough, and filled, but not
crowded, with every sort of choice article, was a perfect exhibition to
eyes unaccustomed to such varieties.

Mary could have been still amused by the hour, in studying the devices
and ornaments on the shelves and chiffonieres; and Blanche had romanced
about it to the little ones, till they were erecting it into a mythical
palace.

And Flora, in her simple, well-chosen dress, looked, and moved, as if
she had been born and bred in the like.

There were signs of unpacking about the room-Flora's dressing-case on
the table, and some dresses lying on the sofa and ottoman.

Mary ran up to them eagerly, and exclaimed at the beautiful shot blue
and white silk.

"Paris fashions?" said Ethel carelessly.

"Yes; but I don't parade my own dresses here," said Flora.

"Whose are they then? Your commissions, Meta?"

"No!" and Meta laughed heartily.

"Your French maid's then?" said Ethel. "I dare say she dresses quite as
well; and the things are too really pretty and simple for an English
maid's taste."

"I am glad you like them," said Flora maliciously. "Now, please to be
good."

"Who are they for then?" said Ethel, beginning to be frightened.

"For a young lady, whose brother has got the Newdigate prize, and who is
going to Oxford."

"Me! Those! But I have not got four backs," as Ethel saw Meta in fits
of laughing, and Flora making affirmative signs. Mary gave a ponderous
spring of ecstasy.

"Come!" said Flora, "you may as well be quiet. Whatever you may like,
I am not going to have the Newdigate prizeman shown as brother to a
scarecrow. I knew what you would come to, without me to take care of
you. Look at yourself in the glass."

"I'm sure I see no harm in myself," said Ethel, turning towards the
pier-glass, and surveying herself--in a white muslin, made high, a black
silk mantle, and a brown hat. She had felt very respectable when she set
out