eclared that she would be at Stoneborough for the
nomination. No one believed her, until three days before, she presented
herself and her daughter before the astonished Margaret, who was
too much delighted to be able to scold. She had come away on her own
responsibility, and was full of triumph. To come home in this manner,
after having read "Rivers for ever!" on all the dead walls, might be
called that for which she had lived. She made no stay--she had only
come to show her child, and establish a precedent for driving out, and
Margaret had begun to believe the apparition a dream, when the others
came in, some from Cocksmoor, others from the committee-room at the
Swan.

"So she brought the baby," exclaimed Ethel. "I should have thought she
would not have taken her out before her christening."

"Ethel," said Dr. Spencer, "permit me to make a suggestion. When
relations live in the same neighbourhood, there is no phrase to be more
avoided than 'I should have thought--'"

The nomination-day brought Flora, Meta, baby and all to be very quiet,
as was said; but how could that be? when every boy in the house was
frantic, and the men scarcely less so. Aubrey and Gertrude, and the two
jackdaws, each had a huge blue and orange rosette, and the two former
went about roaring "Rivers for ever!" without the least consideration
for the baby, who would have been decked in the same manner, if Ethel
would have heard of it without indignation, at her wearing any colour
before her christening white; as to Jack and Jill, though they could
say their lesson, they were too much distressed by their ornaments to do
ought but lurk in corners, and strive to peck them off.

Flora comported herself in her usual quiet way, and tried to talk of
other things, though a carnation spot in each cheek showed her anxiety
and excitement. She went with her sisters to look out from Dr. Spencer's
windows towards the Town Hall. Her husband gave her his arm as they
went down the garden, and Ethel saw her talking earnestly to him, and
pressing his arm with her other hand to enforce her words, but if she
did tutor him, it was hardly visible, and he was very glad of whatever
counsel she gave.

She spoke not a word after the ladies were left with Aubrey, who was in
despair at not being allowed to follow Hector and Tom, but was left, as
his prematurely classical mind expressed it, like the Gaulish women with
the impedimenta in the marshes--whereas Tom had added ins