joyfully of carrying a testament to Molly's cottage and teaching her to
read it. If she could do but that--Daisy thought she would be happy.

The evening was spent by her and Preston over engravings again. Some new
ones were added to the stock already chosen for tableaux; and Preston
debated with her very eagerly the various questions of characters and
dresses. Daisy did not care how he arranged them, provided she only was
not called upon to be Priscilla to Alexander Fish, or Esther to Hamilton
Rush. "I will not, Preston--" she insisted quietly; and Preston was in
difficulty; for as he truly said, it would not do to give himself all
the best pieces.

The next day, after luncheon, a general conclave assembled, of all the
young people, to determine the respective parts and hold a little
rehearsal by way of beginning. Mrs. Sandford was there too, but no other
grown person was admitted. Preston had certainly a troublesome and
delicate office in his capacity of manager.

"What are you going to give me, Preston?" said Mrs. Stanfield's lively
daughter, Theresa.

"You must be Portia."

"Portia? let me see--O that's lovely! How will you dress me, Mrs.
Sandford? I must be very splendid--I have just been married, and I am
worth any amount of splendour. Who's to be Bassanio?--"

"George Linwood, I think. He must have dark hair, you know."

"What are wigs good for?" said Theresa. "But he has nothing to do but to