f to bed she went.

The children went out early the next morning for a long walk in the
country. It was nearly luncheon time when they returned, and they were
met in the hall by aunty, who told them to run upstairs and take off
their things quickly, as a friend of their grandmother's had come to
spend the day with her.

"And make yourselves neat, my dears," she said. "Miss Wren is a
particular old lady."

Sylvia was down in the drawing-room in five minutes, hair brushed, hands
washed, collar straight. She went up to Miss Wren to be introduced to
her, and then sat down in a corner by the window with a book. Miss Wren
was very deaf, and her deafness had the effect, as she could not in the
least hear her own voice, of making her shout out her observations in a
very loud tone, sometimes rather embarrassing for those to whom they were
addressed, or, still worse, for those concerning whom they were made.

"Nice little girl," she remarked to grandmother, "very nice,
pretty-behaved little girl. Rather like poor Mary, is she not? Not so
pretty! Dear me, what a pretty girl Mary was the first winter you were
here, twelve, no, let me see, fourteen years ago! Never could think what
made her take a fancy to that solemn-looking husband of hers."

Grandmother laid her hand warningly on Miss Wren's arm, and glanced in
Sylvia's direction, and greatly to her relief just then, there came a
diversion in the shape of Molly. Grandmother happened to be asked a
question at this moment by a servant who just came into the room, and had
therefore turned aside for an instant as Molly came up to speak to Miss
Wren. Her attention was quickly caught again, however, by the old lady's
remarks, delivered as usual in a very loud voice.

"How do you do, my dear? And what is your name? Dear me, is this a new
fashion? Laura," to aunty, who was writing a note at the side-table and
had not noticed Molly's entrance, "Laura, my dear, I wonder your mother
allows the child to wear so much jewellery. In _my_ young days such a
thing was never heard of."

Aunty got up from her writing at this, and grandmother turned round
quickly. What could Miss Wren be talking about? Was her sight, as well
as her hearing, failing her? Was grandmother's own sight, hitherto quite
to be depended upon, playing her some queer trick? There stood Molly,
serene as usual, with--it took grandmother quite a little while to count
them--one, two, three, yes, _six_ brooches fastened on to