for my successors." Mr. Tike quotes a very long list of the authorities and documents which he consulted in the composition of his work, but does not quote Dr. Nicholas—for the sufficient reason that Dr. Nicholas had not then written on the subject. Dr. Nicholas also quotes his authorities, among which the book of Mr. Pike does not appear.
THE BROWN-PAPER PARCEL.
IN FIVE CHAPTERS.CHAPTER V.
The result of the above conversation was that, early in the afternoon of the following day, the village street of Farley was enlivened by the appearance of Mr. Langley's barouche, with Mrs. Lester inside. The powdered footman attached to this equipage, descending at the curate's door, gave such a succession of bangs with the rarely used knocker, that the whole house shook, and poor Mrs. Mackworth nearly jumped out of her chair. In another moment the open-eyed maid-servant had shown in Mrs. Lester: a mass of black velvet and white fur, so flowing and voluminous that the tiny square parlour seemed hardly large enough to contain her drapery.
Mrs. Mackworth, always gentle and self-possessed, was not at all discomposed by this apparition, nor by the consciousness of her own well-worn merino, and the ungainly basket of tattered garments, which lay, as usual, at her feet.
Mary was in the kitchen, her sleeves tucked up and her arms all over flour, engaged in the manufacture of certain cakes, the recipe for which she had obtained from Mrs. Halroyd's cook, and which were destined to tempt Cilla's fanciful appetite at supper. She was singing gaily at her work, when Cilla burst in, her pale cheeks flushed scarlet, her blue eyes dancing with excitement.
"Mary! Mary! What do you think? Mrs. Lester is here in the parlour with mamma—oh! my hair! my hair!"
"Oh! my cakes! my cakes!" said Mary; "however they're in a state that they can be left, luckily." And as soon as she could free her hands from flour, and divest herself of the great apron which defended her dress, she helped to arrange those bright tanglesome locks of Cilla's, which never would lie flat, but which happily looked all the prettier for disarray.
The sisters entered together to hear Mrs. Mackworth saying:
"It is very, very kind, and it would be a great pleasure to the girls, and my son too—but I don't know."
"I must get them to intercede," said Mrs. Lester, as she shook hands with Mary and gave a kind greeting to Cilla: "my brother has charged me to say how much he hopes you will all come to his ball on the 13th. Mrs. Mackworth says it is out of the question for herself or Mr. Mackworth; but as I tell her, I should be charmed to be your chaperone. Persuade her to let you come."
Mary and Cilla looked at each other, and never did two pair of eyes beam with greater delight. But then Mary glanced at her mother.
"If you don't mind our going, mamma, I can manage everything," said Mary, in a low voice.
The end of the discussion was that Mrs. Mackworth promised to consult her husband, and, if he gave his consent, to allow her daughters and son to go to this famous ball.
So when the curate came home in the evening, he found all his household in a state of feminine bustle; a snowy shower of muslin heaped on the sofa: and a bewildering mass of ribbons and tapes lying on the table. As he stood amazed at the door, Cilla danced up to him, all excitement, with the wonderful news that they were going to the Nettlehurst ball; Mary hastily adding that it depended on whether he liked them to do so.
"My dears, do you really wish to go? Won't you feel very much at a loss? You can't dance, any of you."
"Can't we, indeed?" cried Mary, "haven't I sat by and seen Carrie and Archie figuring away under Mr. Caracol, every Friday of my life for the last two years? I will undertake to coach Harry and Cilla—if we may, papa."
"But your clothes? Where is the money for them to come from?"
"I believe Mary is a conjurer," said her mother; "she produced all this finery at a moment's notice."
And then Mary began explaining how she had bought the white muslin some months before, when she found it necessary to have a best evening dress tor Carrie's birthday, and how, just as she had done so, Mrs. Halroyd had made her a present of another white muslin, ready made up, silk under skirt, and all.
"So the new muslin will just come in for Cilla, and she can have the silk petticoat," said Mary, eagerly; "and all this green ribbon, her own favourite green, will run under the muslin—all about—so. How lucky I brought it for her!"
