he looked at me from
top to toe, gave her head a toss, and went up to her mother with the air
of an injured princess.

"That old pink silk again! What did you let her wear it for? New Year's
Day, too. The idea!"

I heard every word of it, for the stuck-up thing didn't trouble herself
to speak low. My face had been hot enough before, but it burned like
fire now, and my bosom heaved till it stormed against my dress and
almost burst it.

"Hush!" said Cousin E. E., looking scared; "she will hear."

"Well, let her. As if I cared! The idea!"

I stepped forward, with my finger lifted, and my dress sweeping. It must
have been an imposing sight, for E. E. raised both hands, imploringly,
and says she, "Cecilia, come and see your father's present."

"Oh, isn't it gorgeous?" sang out the child, clasping her hands, and
turning her back square on me while she went up to the stone fellow.
"Such a splendid mate for Venus!"

"Yes, I should think so," says I sarcastically; "only Miss Venus does
seem ashamed of herself; but the fellow is bold as brass."

The girl's lip curled like an opening rose-bud; she gave a nipping
laugh, and I just heard "old fogy" break through it so saucily that my
blood riled.

"Did you apply that to me?" says I, a-lifting my finger.

"No, no, nothing of the kind," says Cousin E. E., catching her breath.
"You quite misunderstand Cecilia. Dear me, that is a carriage; people
are beginning to call. Cecilia, my love, do try and make yourself
agreeable."

"Just as much as to say that I could be anything else," says the
aggravating creature, a-hitching up her shoulders.

Sure enough, some one was coming, and no three canary birds in a cage
ever fluttered into their places quicker than we did. Cousin E. E.
seated herself in a great cosey chair, all cushions, spread out her
dress on the floor, and leaned a little sideways as if she was sitting
to Brady for a picture. I gave my pink silk a wide swoop, and let it
settle down on the carpet in ridges; then I leaned my elbow on the silk
cushions of the great round sofa, and drooped my head a little as if
breathing the scent of so many flowers had made me a trifle faint. That
child ran to the glass, shook out her lace ruffles, and stepped back
again to admire--well, her limbs--just as if she had been a stone girl,
and was in love with herself. I swan to man she made me sick and faint,
if the flowers didn't.

There was a noise in the hall-way, and I caught a pe