ng Margaret at first, and then making her grieve at her own
impatient feeling.

Ethel was soon in the drawing-room, but the right number of the magazine
was not quickly forthcoming, and in searching she became embarked in
another story. Just then, Aubrey, whose stout legs were apt to carry him
into every part of the house where he was neither expected nor wanted,
marched in at the open door, trying by dint of vehement gestures to make
her understand, in his imperfect speech, something that he wanted. Very
particularly troublesome she thought him, more especially as she could
not make him out, otherwise than that he wanted her to do something
with the newspaper and the fire. She made a boat for him with an old
newspaper, a very hasty and frail performance, and told him to sail it
on the carpet, and be Mr. Ernescliffe going away; and she thought him
thus safely disposed of. Returning to her book and her search, with her
face to the cupboard, and her book held up to catch the light, she was
soon lost in her story, and thought of nothing more till suddenly roused
by her father's voice in the hall, loud and peremptory with alarm,
"Aubrey! put that down!" She looked, and beheld Aubrey brandishing a
great flaming paper--he dropped it at the exclamation--it fell burning
on the carpet. Aubrey's white pinafore! Ethel was springing up, but in
her cramped, twisted position she could not do so quickly, and even as
he called, her father strode by her, snatched at Aubrey's merino frock,
which he crushed over the scarcely lighted pinafore, and trampled out
the flaming paper with his foot. It was a moment of dreadful fright, but
the next assured them that no harm was done.

"Ethel!" cried the doctor, "Are you mad? What were you thinking of?"

Aubrey, here recollecting himself enough to be frightened at his
father's voice and manner, burst into loud cries; the doctor pressed him
closer on his breast, caressed and soothed him. Ethel stood by, pale and
transfixed with horror. Her father was more angry with her than she
had ever seen him, and with reason, as she knew, as she smelled the
singeing, and saw a large burnt hole in Aubrey's pinafore, while the
front of his frock was scorched and brown. Dr. May's words were not
needed, "What could make you let him?"

"I didn't see--" she faltered.

"Didn't see! Didn't look, didn't think, didn't care! That's it, Ethel.
'Tis very hard one can't trust you in a room with the child any more
than t