time; and there was so much merriment in talking over the walk,
and discussing the plans for the Pleasance, that Henrietta resolved
never again to miss such a pleasant reunion by her own tardiness.

Nor was the evening less agreeable. Henrietta pleased grandmamma by
getting her carpet-work out of some puzzle, and by flying across the
room to fetch the tea-chest: she delighted grandpapa by her singing, and
by finding his spectacles for him; she did quite a praiseworthy piece of
her own crochet purse, and laughed a great deal at the battle that was
going on between Queen Bee and Fred about the hero of some new book.
She kept her list of Uncle Geoffrey's manifold applicants on the table
before her, and had the pleasure of increasing it by two men, business
unknown, who sent to ask him to come and speak to them; by a loud
and eager appeal from Fred and Beatrice to decide their contest, by a
question of taste on the shades of grandmamma's carpet-work, and by her
own query how to translate a difficult German passage which had baffled
herself, mamma, and Fred.

However, Queen Bee's number, fifty, had not been attained, and her
majesty was obliged to declare that she meant in a week instead of
a day, for which reason the catalogue was written out fair, to be
continued.

Mrs. Frederick Langford thought herself well recompensed for the pain
her resolution had cost her, by the pleasure that Mr. and Mrs. Langford
evidently took in her son and daughter, by the brightness of her two
children's own faces, and especially when Henrietta murmured in her
sleep something about "delightful," "bright leaves and red berries," and
then, "and 'tis for my own dear papa."

And after all, in the attainment of their fondest wish, were Henrietta
and Frederick as serenely happy as she was?

CHAPTER VI.

Christmas Eve, which was also a Saturday, dawned brightly on Henrietta,
but even her eagerness for her new employment could not so far overcome
her habitual dilatoriness as not to annoy her cousin, Busy Bee, even to
a degree of very unnecessary fidgeting when there was any work in hand.
She sat on thorns all breakfast time, devoured what her grandpapa called
a sparrow's allowance, swallowed her tea scalding, and thereby gained
nothing but leisure to fret at the deliberation with which Henrietta cut
her bread into little square dice, and spread her butter on them as if
each piece was to serve as a model for future generations.

The s