down as the absolute and visible impersonation
of that Sultana Scheherazade, of whom Miss
Dallwallah was the imaginary type. She had
a great deal of silk about her that rustled, and
of lace that fluttered, and of flowers that waved,
and a great many ornaments of jewels and gold
that jingled, and made a shine. It occurred to
Lily that had she purchased the picture of that
lady from the gallery of Mr. Marks, or Mr. Park,
for a penny plain, she would cost at least twelve
and sixpence to emblazon and finish off
completely in tinsel.

The visitor did not appear, however, to be
either a very patient, or a very good-tempered
lady. She had been kept for some time waiting,
and it had made her cross. She was drumming
on the ground with her feet, and rapping Mrs.
Bunnycastle's great circular walnut-wood
drawing-room table with her parasol: a potent lady,
indeed, so to presume to rap that revered article
of furniture! Moreover, when Miss Barbara,
with Lily meekly trotting after her, entered the
apartment, she turned to the former with a very
quick and fierce movement, and said:

"Had you not better keep me all day? Is
this little brat a princess that I am to dance
attendance for hours before she grants me an
audience?"

Lily opened her eyes at being spoken of as a
brat. No such ill-natured term had ever yet
been applied to her. This was evidently a very
cross lady: as cross as the tall English teacher,
who was sent away for pulling the girls' ears
when they were remiss in their geography—the
Miss Bunnycastles observing, at the time, and
with perfect propriety and candour, that if
anything of that kind was to be done, they
could do it themselves. Lily noticed, too, apart
from the angry vehemence of the lady's manner,
that her voice did not resemble that of the
Bunnycastles, or of any English girl in the
school. She spoke more like Mademoiselle,
for shortness called "Mamselle," French
governess at Rhododendron House, who was
accustomed to rail against the Bunnycastles as
"tyrannical Megæras," to have the toothache,
and to weep about her ancestors.

Miss Barbara drew herself up somewhat, at
being thus abruptly addressed. Alone, it would
not have so much mattered; but, in the
presence of a scholar, to be snubbed was intolerable.
Did not Doctor Busby, when he went over
Westminster School with King Charles the
Second, apologise to his majesty for keeping
his hat on, upon the ground that if his boys
were led for an instant to imagine that there
was in the whole world a greater personage than
he, his authority would be lost for ever? So,
Miss Barbara drew herself up, and looked sharp-
edged rulers, or whatever the law of kindness
was capable of resorting to in moments of
resentment, at the aggressor.

"My mamma, madam," she explained, with
the polite severity of offended dignity, "is
confined to her bed by sickness, else she would have
received you. My sisters are detained in the
schoolroom by their scholastic duties. With
my own hands I have prepared Miss Floris for
the visit which, during three years and a half,
her friends have never condescended to pay her
instructresses."

"She ought not to want any preparation,"
returned the lady, with undiminished violence.
"Do you keep her in a pigsty that she is not
fit to be seen when her"—she stopped herself
for an instant—"when her friends call upon
her? Come here, child."

Lily answered the summons not very willingly.
The handsome angry lady terrified her. She
was accustomed, however, to do as she was bid,
and obeyed the command: approaching the lady,
however, sideways, and with one small
forefinger in her mouth.

"Don't look like a fool," cried the handsome
lady.

Lily did not know what else to look like;
or, to an uninterested spectator, she might
have looked very much like a little girl in
active preparation for a good cry. Her
perturbation was increased when the strange visitor,
pulling the child towards her, and with no very
gentle hand offered very unmistakable evidence
that she was about to undress her. She stayed
her hand, however, at the sight of Lily's little
gleaming white shoulders, which—a most curious
and inconsequential lady, this—she proceeded,
incontinent, to cover with very fierce hot kisses.
And then, that nothing might be wanting to
the oddity of her demeanour, she pushed the
child away again.

"There," she said, "I see you're clean
enough. Do you give her a bath every morning?"
she resumed, addressing Miss Barbara.

"Miss Floris," retorted that young lady,
combining a diplomatic evasion with much
moral suavity, "has constantly received
unremitting attention, both as regards her physical
and mental requirements."

"How fine you schoolmistresses talk!" the
lady went on, not, apparently, in the slightest
degree touched by the governess's eloquence.
"It is all in the advertisement, I suppose—
l'annonce. What is your name, child?"

The little girl opened her eyes; and Miss
Barbara opened hers too. Had not the strange
lady asked for Miss Floris?

"Lily," the child answered.

"Lily what?"

"Lily Floris, ma'am."

"Beast of a name. We must change it.
How old are you?"

Lily looked appealingly at Miss Barbara.

"I have reason to believe," Miss Bunnycastle
remarked, with lofty condescension, "that
Miss Floris is rapidly approaching her eighth
birthday."

"Are you happy here?" resumed the lady,
not deigning to acknowledge Miss Bunnycastle's
volunteered statement.

"Yes, ma'am," the child replied, with all the
sincerity of eight years of age. The lady
frowned at this somewhat; but Miss
Bunnycastle rendered thanks to Lily, in her secret