had begun.

'O, Ethel, that was only with the little ones. Now you would be of
use to poor Averil.'

'And why should not you? and of more use?'

'You know I am only good for small children; but if you tell me--'

'You provoking girl,' said Ethel. 'All I tell you is, that you are
twenty-three years old, and I won't tell you anything, nor assist
your unwholesome desire to be second fiddle.'

'I don't know what you mean, Ethel; of course you always tell me what
to do, and how to do it.'

Ethel quite laughed now, but gave up the contest, only saying, as she
fondly smoothed back a little refractory lock on Mary's smooth open
brow, 'Very well then, go and do whatever comes to hand at Bankside,
my dear. I do really want to stay at home, both on Aubrey's account,
and because papa says Dr. Spencer is done up, and that I must catch
him and keep him quiet this evening.'

Mary was satisfied in her obedience, and set off with her father.
Just as they reached Bankside, a gig drove up containing the fattest
old man she had ever beheld; her father whispered that it was old Mr.
Axworthy, and sent her at once to the nursery, where she was welcomed
with a little shriek of delight, each child bounding in her small
arm-chair, and pulling her down between them on the floor for
convenience of double hugging, after which she was required to go on