per
position, and smoothing my discomposed dress, she laid me gently on my
bed, and placed my wig on my pillow beside me, with many kind
expressions of pity and good-will.

Repose was indeed needful after so agitating an adventure; and I was
glad to be left quiet till the young people came in from their walk. I
composed my ruffled spirits as well as I could; but I found it
impossible not to be nervous at the idea of Rose's first seeing me in
such a plight, and I anxiously awaited her return. They came in at last,
Rose, Willy, and Margaret; and after establishing Willy on his sofa,
Rose's next care was to visit me. 'O Willy! O Margaret!' she exclaimed,
and burst into tears.

'What is the matter, my darling?' asked Margaret.

Rose could not answer; but Sarah was there to tell the story, and do
ample justice to my wrongs. Yet I could not help observing, in the midst
of all her indignation, the difference of her manner towards her
present hearers and towards Geoffrey. She never seemed on familiar terms
with Willy, much less with Margaret or Rose. She neither cut jokes nor
used rough language to them, but treated them with the respect due to
her master's children; though, as I well knew, she was extremely fond of
them, and disliked Geoffrey, in spite of her familiarity with him.

I saw Geoffrey no more that day. Rose's young friends soon arrived, and
consoled both her and me by their kind sympathy and attentions. One made
an elegant cap to supply the loss of my wig; another strung a blue
necklace to hide the black mark round my throat; Rose herself put me to
bed, and placed a table by my bedside covered with teacups, each, she
told me, containing a different medicine; and the young lady who had
once brought Miss Edgeworth to dine with me, charged me to lie still and
read 'Rosamond' till I was quite recovered.

Next morning, as I lay contentedly performing my new part of an invalid,
I heard a confidential conversation between Margaret and Geoffrey, in
which I was interested.

They were alone together, and she was taking the opportunity to
remonstrate with him on his unkind treatment of me.

'What was the harm?' said Geoffrey. 'A doll is nothing but wood or bran,
or some stupid stuff; it can't feel.'

'Of course,' answered Margaret, 'we all know _that_. It is wasteful and
mischievous to spoil a pretty toy; but I am not speaking now so much for
the sake of the doll as of Rose. Rose is not made of any stupid stuff;
_sh