things? In fact Jane had hit upon a great elemental truth when she suggested this. From that moment I was hers.
Laying Dorothea, toes up, on the grass I proceeded to lead Jane into the most cherished realms of my fancy. Together we sailed those "perilous seas in faery lands forlorn," dabbling our hands in the fountain, while the golden August sunshine kissed our necks.
I said not a word of this at tea. I munched my bread and butter in a sort of haze, scarcely conscious of the subdued conversation led by Mrs. Handsomebody, until I heard her say,
"A little great-niece of Bishop Torrance is visiting next door. You are therefore invited to take tea with her tomorrow afternoon. I trust you will conduct yourselves with decency at table, and remember that a frail little girl is not to be played with as a headlong boy."
I felt that she couldn't tell me anything about frail little girls, but I kept my knowledge to myself. The Seraph said—
"Was you ever a fwail little gel, Mrs. Handsomebody?" Our governess fixed him with her eye.
"I was a most decorous and obedient little girl, Alexander, and asked no impertinent questions of my elders."
"Was Mary Ellen a fwail little gel?" persisted The Seraph.
[60]
