ole
scene, while shrinking from such light, as only the beauteous works of
nature could bear, was the array accomplished by female fingers.

Under the wreathed canopies were the stalls, piled up with bright
colours, most artistically arranged. Ethel, with her over-minute
knowledge of every article, could hardly believe that yonder glowing
Eastern pattern of scarlet, black, and blue, was, in fact, a judicious
mosaic of penwipers that she remembered, as shreds begged from the
tailor, that the delicate lace-work consisted of Miss Bracy's perpetual
antimacassars, and that the potichomanie could look so dignified and
Etruscan.

"Here you are!" cried Meta Rivers, springing to meet them. "Good girls,
to come early. Where's my little Daisy?"

"Coming in good time," said Ethel. "How pretty it all looks!"

"But where's Flora?--where's my watch-guard?" anxiously asked Blanche.

"She was here just now," said Meta, looking round. "What a genius she
is, Ethel! She worked wonders all yesterday, and let the Miss Hoxtons
think it was all their own doing, and she was out before six this
morning, putting finishing touches."

"Is this your stall?" said Ethel.

"Yes, but it will not bear a comparison with hers. It has a lady's-maid
look by the side of hers. In fact, Bellairs and my aunt's maid did it
chiefly, for papa was rather ailing yesterday, and I could not be out
much."

"How is he now?"

"Better; he will walk round by-and-by. I hope it will not be too much
for him."

"Oh, what beautiful things!" cried Mary, in ecstasy, at what she was
forced to express by the vague substantive, for her imagination had
never stretched to the marvels she beheld.

"Ay, we have been lazy, you see, and so Aunt Leonora brought down all
these smart concerns. It is rather like Howell and James's, isn't it?"

In fact, Lady Leonora's marquee was filled with costly knick-knacks,
which, as Meta justly said, had not half the grace and appropriate air
that reigned where Flora had arranged, and where Margaret had worked,
with the peculiar freshness and finish that distinguished everything to
which she set her hand.

Miss Cleveland's counter was not ill set-out, but it wanted the air of
ease and simplicity, which was even more noticeable than the perfect
taste of Flora's wares. If there had been nothing facetious, the effect
would have been better, but there was nothing to regret, and the whole
was very bright and gay.

Blanche could hardly look;