"I believe," said Dr. May, "I never knew such glorification as when Aubrey Spencer climbed the poor old market-cross. We all felt ourselves made illustrious for ever in his person."

"Nay, papa, when you got that gold medal must have been the grandest time?" said Blanche, who had been listening.

Dr. May laughed, and patted her. "I, Blanche? Why, I was excessively amazed, that is all, not in Norman's way, but I had been doing next to nothing to the very last, then fell into an agony, and worked like a horse, thinking myself sure of failure, and that my mother and my uncle would break their hearts."

"But when you heard that you had it?" persisted Blanche.

"Why, then I found I must be a much cleverer fellow than I thought for!"

said he, laughing; "but I was ashamed of myself, and of the authorities, for choosing such an idle dog, and vexed that other plodding lads missed it, who deserved it more than I."

"Of course," said Norman, in a low voice, "that is what one always feels. I had rather blow soap-bubbles!"

"Where was Dr. Spencer?" asked Ethel.

"Not competing. He had been ready a year before, and had gained it, or I should have had no chance. Poor Spencer! what would I not give to see him, or hear of him?"

"The last was--how long ago?" said Ethel.

"Six years, when he was setting off, to return from Poonshedagore," said Dr. May, sighing. "I gave him up; his health was broken, and there was no one to look after him. He was the sort of man to have a nameless grave, and a name too blessed for fame."

Ethel would have asked further of her father's dear old friend, but there were sounds, denoting an arrival, and Margaret beckoned to them as Miss Rivers and her brother were ushered into the drawing-room; and Blanche instantly fled away, with her basin, to hide herself in the schoolroom.

Meta skipped out, and soon was established on the grass, an attraction to all the live creatures, as it seemed; for the kitten came, and was caressed till her own graceful Nipen was ready to fight with the uncouth Toby for the possession of a resting-place on the skirt of her habit, while Daisy nestled up to her, as claiming a privilege, and Aubrey kept guard over the dogs.

Meta inquired after a huge doll--Dr. Hoxton's gift to Daisy, at the bazaar.

"She is in Margaret's wardrobe," was the answer, "because Aubrey tied her hands behind her, and was going to offer her up on the nursery grate."

"Oh, Aubrey, that was too cruel!"

"No," returned Aubrey; "she was Iphigenia, going to be sacrificed."

"Mary unconsciously acted Diana," said Ethel, "and bore the victim away."

"Pray, was Daisy a willing Clytemnestra?" asked Meta.

"Oh, yes, she liked it," said Aubrey, while Meta looked discomfited.

"I never could get proper respect paid to dolls," said Margaret; "we deal too much in their natural enemies."

"Yes," said Ethel, "my only doll was like a heraldic lion, couped in all her parts."

"Harry and Tom once made a general execution," said Flora; "there was a doll hanging to every baluster--the number made up with rag."

George Rivers burst out laughing--his first sign of life; and Meta looked as if she had heard of so many murders.

"I can't help feeling for a doll!" she said. "They used to be like sisters to me. I feel as if they were wasted on children, that see no character in them, and only call them Dolly."

"I agree with you," said Margaret. "If there had been no live dolls, Richard and I should have reared our doll family as judiciously as tenderly. There are treasures of carpentry still extant, that he made for them."

"Oh, I am so glad!" cried Meta, as if she had found another point of union. "If I were to confess--there is a dear old Rose in the secret recesses of my wardrobe. I could as soon throw away my sister--"

"Ha!" cried her brother, laying hold of the child, "here, little Daisy, will you give your doll to Meta?"

"My name is Gertrude Margaret May," said the little round mouth. The fat arm was drawn back, with all a baby's dignity, and the rosy face was hidden in Dr. May's breast, at the sound of George Rivers's broad laugh and "Well done, little one!"

Dr. May put his arm round her, turned aside from him, and began talking to Meta about Mr. Rivers.

Flora and Norman made conversation for the brother; and he presently asked Norman to go out shooting with him, but looked so amazed on hearing that Norman was no sportsman that Flora tried to save the family credit by mentioning Hector's love of a gun, which caused their guest to make a general tender of sporting privileges; "Though," added he, with a drawl, "shooting is rather a nuisance, especially alone."

Meta told Ethel, a little apart, that he was so tired of going out alone, that he had brought her here, in search of a companion.

"He comes in at eleven o'clock, poor fellow, quite tired with solitude,"

said she, "and comes to me to be entertained."

"Indeed," exclaimed Ethel. "What can you do?"

"What I can," said Meta, laughing. "Whatever is not 'a horrid nuisance'

to him."

"It would be a horrid nuisance to me," said Ethel bluntly, "if my brothers wanted me to amuse them all the morning."

"Your brothers, oh!" said Meta, as if that were very different; "besides, you have so much more to do. I am only too glad and grateful when George will come to me at all. You see I have always been too young to be his companion, or find out what suited him, and now he is so very kind and good-natured to me."

"But what becomes of your business?"

"I get time, one way or another. There is the evening, very often, when I have sung both him and papa to sleep. I had two hours, all to myself, yesterday night," said Meta, with a look of congratulation, "and I had a famous reading of Thirlwall's 'Greece.'"

"I should think that such evenings were as bad as the mornings."

"Come, Ethel, don't make me naughty. Large families, like yours, may have merry, sociable evenings; but, I do assure you, ours are very pleasant. We are so pleased to have George at home; and we really hope that he is taking a fancy to the dear Grange. You can't think how delighted papa is to have him content to stay quietly with us so long. I must call him to go back now, though, or papa will be kept waiting."

When Ethel had watched the tall, ponderous brother help the bright fairy sister to fly airily into her saddle, and her sparkling glance, and wave of the hand, as she cantered off, contrasting with his slow bend, and immobility of feature, she could not help saying that Meta's life certainly was not too charming, with her fanciful, valetudinarian father, and that stupid, idealess brother.

"He is very amiable and good-natured," interposed Norman.

"Ha! Norman, you are quite won by his invitation to shoot! How he despised you for refusing--as much as you despised him."

"Speak for yourself," said Norman. "You fancy no sensible man likes shooting, but you are all wrong. Some of our best men are capital sportsmen. Why, there is Ogilvie--you know what he is. When I bring him down here, you will see that there is no sort of sport that he is not keen after."

"This poor fellow will never be keen after anything," said Dr. May. "I pity him! Existence seems hard work to him!"

"We shall have baby calling him 'the detestable' next," said Ethel.

"What a famous set down she gave him."

"She is a thorough lady, and allows no liberties," said Dr. May.

"Ah!" said Margaret, "it is a proof of what I want to impression you. We really must leave off calling her Daisy when strangers are there."