passed was the sure way to call Hector's attention
thereto, when she bridled, emerged, and begged to know whether she
looked as if she had been crying. Poor child, she could never again
be unconscious, but, at least, she was rendered peculiarly afraid of a
style of notice, that might otherwise have been a temptation.

Ethel privately begged Flora to hint to George to alter his style of
wit, and the suggestion was received better than the blundering manner
deserved; Flora was too exulting to take offence, and her patronage of
all the world was as full-blown as her ladylike nature allowed. Ethel,
she did not attempt to patronise, but she promised all the sights
in London to the children, and masters to Mary and Blanche, and she
perfectly overwhelmed Miss Bracy with orphan asylums for her sisters.
She would have liked nothing better than dispersing cards, with Mrs.
Rivers prominent among the recommenders of the case.

"A fine coming-out for you, little lady," said she to her baby, when
taking leave that evening. "If it was good luck for you to make your
first step in life upwards, what is this?"

"Excelsior?" said Ethel, and Flora smiled, well pleased, but she had not
caught half the meaning. "May it be the right excelsior" added Ethel, in
a low voice that no one heard, and she was glad they did not. They were
all triumphant, and she could not tell why she had a sense of sadness,
and thought of Flora's story long ago, of the girl who ascended Mont
Blanc, and for what?

All she had to do at present was to listen to Miss Bracy, who was sure
that Mrs. Rivers thought Mary and Blanche were not improved, and was
afraid she was ungrateful for all the intended kindness to her sister.

Ethel had more sympathy here, for she had thought that Flora was giving
herself airs, and she laughed and said her sister was pleased to be in
a position to help her friends; and tried to turn it off, but ended
by stumbling into allowing that prosperity was apt to make people
over-lavish of offers of kindness.

"Dear Miss Ethel, you understand so perfectly. There is no one like
you!" cried Miss Bracy, attempting to kiss her hand.

If Ethel had not spoken rightly of her sister, she was sufficiently
punished.

What she did was to burst into a laugh, and exclaim, "Miss Bracy! Miss
Bracy! I can't have you sentimental. I am the worst person in the world
for it."

"I have offended. You cannot feel with me!"

"Yes, I can, when it is sense; but