luential.

Dolly's happiness at his return was great and unfeigned, but its
expression was handicapped by her desire that a doll Sister Nora brought
her should be allowed to sleep off the effects of an exhausting journey.
Only Shakespearean dramatic power could have ascribed sleep to this
doll, who was a similitude of Struvvel Peter in the collected poems of
that name just published. Still, Dolly gave all of herself that this
matronly preoccupation could spare to Dave. She very soon suggested that
they should make a joint visit to old Mrs. Picture upstairs. She could
carry Struvvel Peter in her arms all the time, so that his sleep should
not be disturbed.

This was only restless love of change on Dolly's part, and Uncle Mo
protested. Was his boy to be carried off from him when only just this
minute he got him back? Who was Mrs. Prichard that such an exaggerated
consideration should be shown to her? Dave expressed himself in the same
sense, but with a less critical view of Mrs. Prichard's pretensions.

Aunt M'riar pointed out that there was no call to be in a driving hurry.
Presently, when Mr. Alibone come in for a pipe, like he said he would,
then Dave and Dolly might go up and knock at Mrs. Prichard's door, and
if they were good they might be let in. Aunt M'riar seized so many
opportunities to influence the young towards purity and holiness that
her injunctions lost force through the frequency of their recurrence,
always dangling rewards and punishments before their eyes. In the
present case her suggestions worked in with the general feeling, and
Dave and Dolly sat one on each knee of Uncle Mo, and made intelligent
remarks. At least, Dave did; Dolly's were sometimes confused, and very
frequently uncompleted.

Uncle Mo asked questions about Dave's sojourn with Widow Thrale. Who was
there lived in the house over and above the Widow? Well--said
Dave--there was her Granny. Uncle Mo derided the idea of a Widow's
Granny. Such a thing was against Nature. Her mother was possible but
uncommon. But as for her Granny!--draw it mild, said Uncle Mo.

"But my dear Mo," said Aunt M'riar. "Just you give consideration. You're
always for sayin' such a many things. Why, there was our upstairs old
lady she says to me she was plenty old enough to be my grandmother. Only
this very morning, if you'll believe me, she said that very selfsame
thing. 'I'm plenty old enough to be your grandmother,' she says."

"As for the being old enough,