promised we girls should appear very
little, and for the sake of effect, I had rather Henrietta broke on the
world in all her beauty at the end. I do look forward to seeing her as
Queen Eleanor; she will look so regal."

Fred smiled, for he delighted in his sister's praises. "You are a
wondrous damsel, busy one," said he, "to be content to play second
fiddle."

"Second fiddle! As if I were not the great moving spring! Trust me, you
would never write yourself down an ass but for the Queen Bee. How shall
we ever get your ears from Allonfield? Saturday night, and only till
Monday evening to do everything in!"

"Oh, you will do it," said Fred. "I wonder what you and Henrietta cannot
do between you! Oh, there is Uncle Geoffrey come in," he exclaimed, as
he heard the front door open.

"And I must go and dress," said Beatrice, seized with a sudden haste,
which did not speak well for the state of her conscience.

Uncle Geoffrey was in the hall, taking off his mud-bespattered gaiters.
"So you are entered with the vermin, Fred," called he, as the two came
out of the drawing-room.

"O how we wished for you, Uncle Geoffrey! but how did you hear it?"

"I met Alex just now. Capital sport you must have had. Are you only just
come in?"

"No, we were having a consultation about the charades," said Fred; "the
higher powers consent to our having them on Monday."

"Grandmamma approving?" asked Uncle Geoffrey.

"O yes," said Fred, in all honesty, "she only objected to our taking a
regular scene in a play, and 'coming it as strong' as we did the other
night; so it is to be all extemporary, and it will do famously."

Beatrice, who had been waiting in the dark at the top of the stairs,
listening, was infinitely rejoiced that her project had been explained
so plausibly, and yet in such perfect good faith, and she flew off to
dress in high spirits. Had she mentioned it to her father, he would
have doubted, taken it as her scheme, and perhaps put a stop to it: but
hearing of it from Frederick, whose pleasures were so often thwarted,
was likely to make him far more unwilling to object. For its own sake,
she knew he had no objection to the sport; it was only for that of his
mother; and since he had heard of her as consenting, all was right. No,
could Beatrice actually say so to her own secret soul?

She could not; but she could smother the still small voice that checked
her, in a multitude of plans, and projects, and criticisms, and a