it to her special cronies at
Seacove, together with her opinion that the new rector's wife was a most
pleasant-spoken lady.

One or two other shops Mrs. Vane and Rosalys went into; a paper-hanger's
for one, or rather a painter's, where wall-papers were sold; and an
iron-monger's, where she bought two or three different kinds of small
nails, tin tacks, and neat little brass-headed nails. Bridget stayed at
the door of both these shops: she thought them not at all interesting,
and mamma and Alie did not press her to come in. The little girl was in
a great fidget to get to Pier Street, and stood murmuring to herself
that she didn't believe they'd _ever_ come; Alie might make mamma be
quick, she knew how she, Biddy, wanted to see Celestina and her dolls'
room.

'But nobody cares about what _I_ want,' she added to herself, with the
discontented look on her face which so spoilt its round rosy
pleasantness.

Just then out came Mrs. Vane and Alie. They both looked pleased and
bright, and this made Biddy still crosser.

'Well, now,' said her mother consideringly, 'is that all, Alie? Yes--I
think it is. I must call at the grocer's on the way home, but I think we
pass that way. No--I don't remember anything else.'

At this Bridget could no longer keep silent.

'Oh, mamma,' she exclaimed, 'and you said you'd come to Celestina's
house. It's too bad.'

Mrs. Vane looked at her in surprise.

'I did not say so, Biddy; I said we should see. And we are going there
now. You have no reason to be so impatient and to look so cross,' and
she turned and walked on quickly.

'Biddy,' said Alie, 'you're too bad really. You spoil everything.'

Then she ran after her mother, and Bridget followed them at some little
distance.

They went directly down the street which a little farther on ran into
Pier Street, Biddy feeling more and more ashamed of herself. How she
wished she had been less hasty, and not spoken so rudely and crossly to
her mother. It did seem true, as Alie said, that she spoilt everything.
But she did not appear as sorry as she felt; indeed, her face had a
rather sulky look when at last she came up to the others, who were
waiting for her at the door of the shop.

'I am going in to see Mrs. Fairchild,' said her mother. 'I have
something to ask her. You may come in too, Biddy, and I will ask to see
the little girl too.'

A naughty spirit came over Biddy, even though in her heart she was
sorry.

'No,' she said. 'I don'