r respecting the disarrangement of her furniture.

But what should the word be? Every one had predilections of their
own--some for comedy, others for tragedy; some for extemporary acting,
others for Shakespeare. Beatrice, with her eye for drawing, already
grouped her dramatis personae, so as to display Henrietta's picturesque
face and figure to the greatest advantage, and had designs of making her
and Fred represent Catherine and Henry Seyton, whom, as she said, she
had always believed to be exactly like them. Fred was inclined for
"another touch at Prince Hal," and devised numerous ways of acting
Anonymous, for the sake of "Anon, anon, sir." Henrietta wanted to
contrive something in which Queen Bee might appear as an actual fairy
bee, and had very pretty visions of making her a beneficent spirit in a
little fanciful opera, for which she had written three or four verses,
when Fred put an end to it be pronouncing it "nonsense and humbug."

So passed Tuesday, without coming to any decision, and Henrietta was
beginning to fear that they would never fix at all, when on Wednesday
morning Beatrice came down in an ecstasy with the news, that by some
chance a wig of her papa's was in the house, and a charade they must and
would have which would bring in the wig. "Come and see it," said she,
drawing her two cousins into the study after breakfast: the study being
the safest place for holding counsel on these secret subjects. "There
now, is it not charming? O, a law charade we must have, that is
certain!"

Fred and Henrietta, who had never chanced to see a barrister's wig
before, were greatly diverted with its little tails, and tried it on in
turn. While Henrietta was in the midst of her laugh at the sight of
her own fair ringlets hanging out below the tight grey rolls, the door
suddenly opened, and gave entrance to its owner, fiercely exclaiming,
"What! nothing safe from you, you impertinent kittens?"

"O, Uncle Geoffrey, I beg your pardon!" cried Henrietta, blushing
crimson.

"Don't take it off till I have looked at you," said Uncle Geoffrey.
"Why, you would make a capital Portia!"

"Yes, yes!" cried Queen Bee, "that is it: Portia she shall be, and I'll
be Nerissa."

"Oh, no, Queenie, I could never be Portia!" said Henrietta: "I am sure I
can't."

"But I have set my heart on being the 'little scrubby lawyer's clerk,'"
said Busy Bee; "it is what I am just fit for; and let me see--Fred shall
be Antonio, and that will mak