ove.
Your mamma loves you dearly, Matilda."

"She says I dance better than any girl in Miss Anderson's school,
grandmamma. I heard her tell Mrs Levitt so, yesterday."

"Here comes mamma," said George, from the window.

"Your mamma, my dear? Phoebe, sweep up the hearth. Hang that curtain
straight. Give me that letter,--no, not that,--the large letter.
There! now put it into my knitting-basket. Make haste down, Phoebe, to
be ready to open the door for Mrs Rowland. Don't keep her waiting a
moment on the steps."

"She has not got to the steps yet," said George. "She is talking to
Mrs Grey. Mrs Grey was coming here, and mamma went and spoke to her.
Oh, Matilda, come and look how they are nodding their bonnets at each
other! I think Mrs Grey is very angry, she wags her head about so.
There! now she is going away. There she goes across the road! and mamma
is coming up the steps."

After a minute or two of silent expectation, Mrs Rowland entered her
mother's room. She brought with her a draught of wintry air, which, as
she jerked aside her ample silk cloak, on taking her seat on the sofa,
seemed to chill the invalid, though there was now a patch of colour on
each withered cheek.

"How much better you look, ma'am!" was the daughter's greeting. "I
always thought it would be a pity to disturb Philip about you: and now,
if he were to see you, he would not believe that you had been ill. Mr
Rowland would be satisfied that I am right, I am sure, if he were to
come in."

"My mistress is noways better," said Phoebe, bluntly. "She is not the
better for that flush she has got now, but the worse."

"Never mind, Phoebe! I shall do very well, I dare say," said Mrs
Enderby, with a sigh. "Well, my dear, how do you all go on at home?"

"Much as usual, ma'am. But that reminds me--Matilda, my own love, Miss
Young must be wanting you for your lesson on objects. Go, my dear."

"I hoped Matilda was come for the day," said Mrs Enderby. "I quite
expected she was to stay with me to-day. Do let me have her, my dear:
it will do me so much good."

"You are very kind, ma'am, but it is quite impossible. It is totally
out of the question, I assure you. Matilda, my love, go this instant.
We make a great point of the lessons on objects. Pray, Phoebe, tie Miss
Rowland's bonnet, and make haste."

Phoebe did so, taking leave to observe that little girls were likely to
live long enough to know plenty of things after they had n