didn't come, and I was too thankful to think much
about it.

After about half an hour I saw the oldest one coming slowly along by
herself, looking very sulky.

"Where's your sister, dear?" I said, all in a tremble, for I dreaded
how she might put it.

"She's too naughty--I can't get her to leave," she said pettishly, and
burst into the library ahead of me. My mistress's face was scarlet and
her eyes like two big stars--for the first time I saw that she was a
beauty. Her breath came very quick and I knew as well as if I'd been
there all the time that she'd been letting herself go, as they say, and
talked to her heart's content about what she'd never have a chance to
talk again to any guest. She was much excited and the other woman knew
it and was puzzled, I could see, from the way she looked at her.

Now the girl burst into the talk.

"Mamma, Lou is so naughty!" she cried. "I saw the ponies coming up the
drive, and I told her it was time, but she won't come!"

"Gently, daughter, gently," said the lady, and put her arm around her
and smoothed her hair. "Why won't Lou come?"

I can see that room now, as plain as any picture in a frame: the
setting sun all yellow on the gilt of the rows of books, the streak of
light on the waxed oak floor, the urn shining in the last rays. There
was the mother patting the big girl, there was Hodges with his hand on
the tray, and there was me standing behind my mistress, with her red
cheeks and her poor heaving bosom.

"Why won't Lou come?" she asked the girl again.

"Because," she says, still fretful, and very loud and clear, "because
she is taking a pattern of the little girl's hat and trying to twist
hers into that shape! I told her you wouldn't like it."

My mistress sprang up and the chair fell down with a crash behind her.
I turned (Hodges says) as white as a sheet and moved nearer her.

"Hat!" she gasped. "What hat? _whose hat_?"

There seemed to be a jingling, like sleighbells, all through the air,
and I thought I was going crazy till I saw that it came from the tray,
where Hodges's hand was shaking so, and yet he couldn't take it off.

"The hat with the rose-coloured ribbon on it," said the girl, "the one
we saw as we drove in, you know, mamma. It's so becoming."

"Sarah! Sarah! did you hear? Did you hear?" shrieked my mistress.
"She saw, Sarah, _she saw_!"

Then the colour went out of her like when you blow out a candle, and
she put her hand to her hear