taken to
see Jones's Bull, with a rough sketch of the Bull's demeanour in her
company.

Aunt M'riar made amends to the best of her abilities for her desertion.
Perhaps the young lady knew what she meant when she said she had been
giv' rather a turn? The young lady did indeed. Aunt M'riar hoped she had
not been alarmed by her exit. Nor by the person who had gone out?
No--Gwen's nerves had survived both, though certainly the person wasn't
a beauty. She went on to hope that the effects of the turn he had given
Aunt M'riar would not be permanent. These being pooh-poohed by both
Uncle Mo and Aunt M'riar, became negligible and lapsed.

"The children came running down directly after you went, Aunt Maria,"
said Gwen. "So I can assure you I didn't lose my temper at being left
alone. I wasn't alone two minutes!" Then she gave, in reply to a general
inquiry after the fever patient, inaugurated by Dave with:--"Oy say,
how's Sister Nora?"--the very favourable report she had just received
from Dr. Dalrymple.

Then Mrs. Prichard was rushed into the conversation by a sudden
inexplicable statement of Dolly's. "When Mrs. Spicture comes back," said
she, "Granny Marrowbone is to pour out Mrs. Spicture's tea. And real
Cake. And stoast cut in sloyces wiv real butter."

"Don't get excited, Dolly dear," said Gwen, protesting against the
amount of leg-action that accompanied this ukase. "Tell us again! _Why_
is Granny Marrable to make tea? Granny Marrable's at her house in the
country. She's not coming here with Mrs. Spicture."

"There, now, Dolly!" said Aunt M'riar. "Why don't you tell clear, a bit
at a time, and get yourself understood? Granny Marrowbone's the new
name, my lady, she's christened her doll, Dolly. So she should be known
apart, Dolly being, as you might say, Dolly herself. Because her uncle
he pointed out to her, 'Dolly,' he said, 'you're in for thinkin' out
some new name for this here baby of yours, to say which is which. Or 'us
you'll get that mixed up, nobody'll know!'"

"I put my oar in," said Uncle Mo, "for to avoid what they call
coarmplications nowadays." He never lost an opportunity of hinting at
the fallings off of the Age. "So she and Dave they turns to and thinks
one out. I should have felt more like Sally or Sooky or Martilda myself.
Or Queen Wictoria." The last was a gracious concession to Her Majesty;
who, in the eyes of Uncle Mo, had recently come to the throne.

"No!" said Dolly firmly. "Gwanny Mawwowbone