to decide how the boys' hair and ties should be arranged! And
then came the flowers, my wreath, and the bouquet to be carried for me
by one of my gentlemen.

We were all ready, I remember, and I was just taking Alick's arm, and we
had all put on our best airs and graces for a solemn entrance to the
supposed ball-room, when, all of a sudden, who should come round the
corner but Uncle Hugh and Harry!

[Illustration: GOING TO A PARTY.]

Oh, those bursts of laughter pealing out again and again! Oh, the
writhings and twistings of Uncle Hugh in his excessive mirth! Would they
_ever_ stop laughing? Even now my cheeks almost tingle with those
painful blushes, and my heart beats with that frightened shame!

And yet it was for Alick that I was chiefly troubled, as I saw him fling
down the flowers and run, while Harry, shouting "conceited young
jackanapes," pursued him at full speed. I had never seen such rough play
or heard such mocking laughter, and I burst into tears, sobbing out my
trouble on my uncle's shoulder as he carried me off and laughingly
soothed me, pressing the prickly wreath all the while against my head.

It was a long time before our adventure was forgotten. Harry's merry
jokes brought the colour over and over again to my face, and the angry
words to Alick's lips. But we were both cured, certainly, for the time,
of any love of display or dandyism!

VI.

_WHAT ABOUT LESSONS?_

And now, little reader, I know quite well what thought has been popping
in and out of your head all this time. You have been wanting to ask me
what had become of lessons all these weeks, and how a number of little
boys and girls could be allowed to run wild, doing just what they liked
all day long.

[Illustration: BABY, DEAR!]

Well, it does seem very shocking, and there is no denying that, for a
whole month, we did not often see the inside of a book. Yet, I had
learnt to read, and had been in the habit of learning to spell and to
count every day of my life at home. I don't quite know how it came about
that we were not all of us a very untamed set after a month's idleness
at the Park. Perhaps, it was a good thing for us that grandmamma was
what she was. The very perfection of tender kindness we all felt her,
and yet there was a certain dignity about her, that made it a simple
impossibility to be rough or rude before her. And on the whole we were a
great deal with her. When not with her, we were supposed to be picking
up