of the dolls' wardrobe, and had made them exceedingly fond of her, so
that there was a very poor welcome when their own Mary at length
appeared, much shocked at the duration of her own slumbers, and
greatly obliged to Miss May. The little girls would scarcely let
Mary go, though she pacified them by an assurance that she or her
sister would come in the evening.

'Don't let it be your sister. You come, and finish our dolls'
frocks!' and they hung about her, kissing her, and trying to extract
a promise.

After sharing the burthen of depression, it was strange to return
home to so different a tone of spirits when she found Aubrey
installed in Ethel's room as his parlour, very white and weak, but
overflowing with languid fun. There was grief and sympathy for the
poor Wards, and anxious inquiries for Leonard; but it was not sorrow
brought visibly before him, and after the decorous space of
commiseration, the smiles were bright again, and Mary heard how her
father had popped in to boast of his daughter being 'as good as a
house-maid, or as Miss What's-her-name;' and her foray in the kitchen
was more diverting to Aubrey than she was as yet prepared to
understand. 'Running away with the buttered toast from under the
nose of a charwoman! let Harry never talk of taking a Chinese battery
after that!' her incapacity of perceiving that the deed was either
valiant or ludicrous, entertaining him particularly. 'It had
evidently hit the medium between the sublime and ridiculous.'

When evening came, Mary thought it Ethel's privilege to go, as the
most efficient friend and comforter; but Ethel saw that her sister's
soul was with the Wards, and insisted that she should go on as she