s.'

She was dressed in pale grey, grey all over, made rather long in the
skirt, and she had a little drawn bonnet of the same colour--a quaint
little figure; but we are used to quaint little figures of _her_ kind
now--fashions repeat themselves, wise people say; and so they do in some
cases, though not in all. I cannot believe that boys will ever again be
buttoned up and choked as they used to be, above all in summer, when
their hot, red faces seemed on the point of bursting out of their
'nankeen' suits, held together by brass buttons.

But the little grey figure standing at the doorway of the Herveys'
playroom was pretty as well as quaint, though the small face was pale,
and the eyes just a quiet grey like the colour of her clothes, and her
dark-brown hair cropped quite short.

She was holding on tightly to the hand of a young lady, and as one of
the scrimmagers caught sight of this same young lady, and immediately
broke into a shout of welcome--'Aunt Mattie--boys, don't you see Aunt
Mattie?' and the noise became really deafening, our little girl squeezed
the fingers she held still more firmly, and an _almost_ frightened look
crept into her eyes.

'Boys, boys,' exclaimed Aunt Mattie in turn, 'don't _you_ see
that--somebody you have never seen before is here? Do disentangle
yourselves if you can--Archie, Hector--I can't tell which is which of
you--and Ger, dear old Ger, as plump as ever, and--yes, that's right,
Justin--you and Pat really should keep the pickles in order.'

Justin got red--redder even than he was already--as he pushed his way
out of the scramble.

'If you knew what it was, auntie,' he said, in a tone half of despair,
half of apology. 'The pickles get worse every day, and Pat's always
asleep or nearly asleep over his books and plans. I really----'

'Well, never mind about that just now,' said his aunt. 'I must introduce
you all properly,' and she led the little girl gently forward into the
room, looking round for a seat, which was not so easy to find, as every
chair was either upside down or else hoisted on to the top of another.

'I'll get you one down,' Archie called out when he saw the state of
things. 'Get out of the way, Hec and Ger, can't you?'

But in getting out of the way, Hec tumbled over Ger, and Ger, who was
really only a baby, though a very independent one, kicked out at Hec,
which he thought more manly than crying, though one or other he must
have done, of course, to relieve his f