o one else should ever wear it," said
Hannah, and Frieda agreed.

By the time they had finished dressing, they were flushed and rosy. They
stole out into the hall and peered over the banisters to see if the
caller showed signs of departure. Miss Lyndesay was just closing the
door upon her. As she turned back, she heard steps on the stairs and,
looking up, saw a sight she loved always afterward to remember. Two
little Old World ladies, one in white and brocade, the other in flowered
pink satin, came down the winding stairs, their eyes bright with
excitement, their hair rough, and the big blue hair-ribbons, which they
had quite forgotten to remove, showing incongruously above their minuet
gowns.

"O you pretty children!" cried Miss Lyndesay. "Millicent herself wasn't
sweeter, I'm sure, when the Bishop married her off to John. Why didn't
you bring the doll?"

"We were afraid we'd drop her," said Hannah, stepping to the floor.
"There! I'm glad I'm safely down. You can't think what awkward skirts
these are to walk in. O!"

For as she turned, Frieda stepped on her train, and with shrieks both
fell to the floor, splitting their hundred-year-old seams.

Miss Lyndesay helped them up, laughing at their rueful faces, and
kissing away the tears that would come at the sight of the havoc they
had wrought.

"Cheer up, dear hearts! It was purest accident. And Millicent's pretty
gowns have served their purposes long ago. I've no doubt they can be put
together again well enough, and in any case you must not care! I forbid
it. Come, let's get back into our own century, and take a walk before
the sun goes down. I have no end of pretty by-paths to show you."

That evening, there was enough chill in the air for a small fire in the
living-room fireplace, and Miss Lyndesay seated herself before it on a
high-backed settle, with a girl on either side of her.

"If I didn't remember that one of the things Hannah liked me for first
was my habit of sitting quietly without work," she said, "I should be
tempted to improve these minutes by finishing the carving design I am
making to go over the fireplace."

"What is it? Let us see it, and maybe we'll let you. You have such a
peaceful way of working you don't make me nervous as some people do."

"It is there on the desk."

Hannah brought the brown paper, and she and Frieda bent over it
together.

"L-a-e," spelled Hannah, but Frieda looked up, delighted.

"I know. _Laetus sorte mea!_ It