at cold, shabby den, and do my own hair,
yet they think nothing of it, and they are cultivated and ladylike! Is
it all fancy, and being brought up to it? I wonder if it is right? Yet
dear papa likes me to have these things, and can afford them. I never
knew I was luxurious before, and yet I think I must be! One thing I do
wish, and that is, that I was of as much use as those girls. I ought to
be. I am a motherless girl like them, and I ought to be everything to
papa, just as Miss May is, even lying on the sofa there, and only two
years older than I am. I don't think I am of any use at all; he is fond
of me, of course, dear papa; and if I died, I don't know what would
become of him; but that's only because I am his daughter--he has only
George besides to care for. But, really and truly, he would get on as
well without me. I never do anything for him, but now and then playing
to him in the evening, and that not always, I am afraid, when I want
to be about anything else. He is always petting me, and giving me all I
want, but I never do anything but my lessons, and going to the school,
and the poor people, and that is all pleasure. I have so much that I
never miss what I give away. I wonder whether it is all right! Leonora
and Agatha have not so much money to do as they please with--they are
not so idolised. George said, when he was angry, that papa idolises
me; but they have all these comforts and luxuries, and never think of
anything but doing what they like. They never made me consider as these
Mays do. I should like to know them more. I do so much want a friend of
my own age. It is the only want I have. I have tried to make a friend of
Leonora, but I cannot; she never cares for what I do. If she saw these
Mays she would look down on them. Dear Mrs. Larpent is better than any
one, but then she is so much older. Flora May shall be my friend. I'll
make her call me Meta as soon as she comes. When will it be? The day
after tomorrow?"

But little Meta watched in vain. Dr. May always came with either Richard
or the groom, to drive him, and if Meta met him and hoped he would bring
Flora next time, he only answered that Flora would like it very much,
and he hoped soon to do so.

The truth was, it was no such everyday matter as Meta imagined. The
larger carriage had been broken, and the only vehicle held only the
doctor--his charioteer--and in a very minute appendage behind, a small
son of the gardener, to open gates, and hold t