t was Sophia Jane's generosity. By
burning that letter she had gained not only Susan's affection but her
respect; she should never look down upon her again.

Meanwhile Gambetta became restive, and, in spite of all his mistress's
entreaties, broke away from her, and refused to settle down till he had
made a thorough examination of the room. He jumped on to the table,
smelt all the chairs, looked suspiciously behind the chest of drawers,
and walked gingerly in his high furry boots amongst Sophia Jane's
medicine bottles. His every movement was watched and admired, and by
the time Buskin brought in tea he had finished his inquiries and drawn
near the group by the fire. Then, after one thoughtful glance round, he
chose Sophia Jane's position as being the warmest, softly leapt on to
her lap, and snuggled himself among her shawls, In this situation he
presently began a purring song of comfort, in which he was joined by the
tea-kettle. Sophia Jane's satisfaction was now complete. Mademoiselle
Delphine's face beamed, and Susan, pouring out tea with Aunt Hannah's
best pink set, felt almost too happy for words. Probably few rooms held
four happier creatures that evening.

It was pleasant to see how Mademoiselle enjoyed herself; how she said,
"Excellente!" to the tea, and water-cresses, and muffins, and how she
coaxed Sophia Jane to eat, and made her laugh. She was one of those
fortunate people who pick up pleasures everywhere, and find amusement in
the most common things of life. After tea she told them stories.
Interesting details about Paris, and Adolphe, and their journey to
England with poor Gambetta in a basket, and all this made the time pass
so quickly, that when the clock struck seven everyone was startled.
Mademoiselle herself sprang up at once with a little shriek. She had
promised to meet Adolphe at a certain point on her way home, and he
would without doubt be waiting for her. Gambetta, therefore, was
hustled into his basket before he had time to resist, and Mademoiselle,
having embraced her little friends heartily, was soon on her way.

The two little girls were silent for a minute after she had gone.
Sophia Jane, languid after such unusual excitement, stared absently at
the fire, and Susan, not yet quite at her ease, did not like to speak
first. But when Buskin entered it seemed to give her courage, and she
said:

"Haven't we had a nice tea-party?"

"Yes," answered Sophia Jane; and added thoughtfully