Shouts of delight and screams of laughter came from the children at every moment. Each present seemed prettier than the last, and Father Christmas and Cock Robin had something funny to say about them all.

Winter's gifts were also appropriate to the season: miniature Christmas trees, snow balls, robins, squirrels, skates, sugar icicles, and small plum-puddings; besides dolls and figures prettily dressed as harlequins, clowns, and columbines.

The presents were at length all distributed, and the children, having safely deposited their treasures to the trustworthy care of mothers and aunts, danced away merrily till supper-time; after which important event they wound up the evening with a real old-fashioned country dance, for the sake of dancing the old year out and the new year in.

N

CHAPTER XV.

THE VISIT TO LONDON.

OTWITHSTANDING that Ethel had declared herself so tired out' that she should like to 'go to sleep for a week,' she was up early next morning; and when Milly joined her some time later, she found her busily employed writing Rhoda a long account of the party.

'Oh how can you, Ethel !' exclaimed her cousin, yawning. 'Aren't you too tired and too cold to write? I couldn't.'

'My head aches a little; but I know Rhoda will be so disappointed if she doesn't hear from me to-morrow, and I promised to send her a long account. I'm glad you've come, as I wanted to ask you the name of those two funny little girls in pink who amused us so much at supper-time. Do you remember ?'

'Yes; but I don't know their names; at least I'm too tired to think of it.'

'Would you mind asking Mrs. Neville, dear? I'm describing them to Rhoda, and I know she would like to know their names.'

'Oh dear, what nonsense! What can it matter? Call them Crump-anything. I'm so tired, Ethel, I really can't

go and look for Agnes; she's right at the other end of the house.'

'Very well, never mind, then,' replied Ethel, and she went on with her letter.

'Oh dear! oh dear!' said Millicent, yawning again, 'your pen makes such a horrible scratching, it gives me a headache to hear it. Do leave off, Ethel, and talk.'

'I must finish my letter first; the post goes away so early; but I'll take it into another room; the pen will scratch, I can't prevent it;' and Ethel carried her desk into her own room, where she sat in the cold writing and sneezing till her budget was finished. Then she returned to Milly, who was comfortably curled up half asleep in an arm-chair in front of the fire.

'Here you are at last,' she said fretfully. What a time you've been over that stupid letter! Why, you look quite blue; and what makes you shiver so?'

'I'm rather cold,' said Ethel, kneeling down on the rug and warming her hands; 'but I shall be all right in a moment.' 'Where have you been all this time?' asked Milly. 'I was so dull I nearly went to sleep.'

'I've only been in my room finishing my writing.'

'In your room, without a fire!' cried Milly, now thoroughly aroused. 'Oh, Ethel ! no wonder you are cold; and it's all my fault, too, for saying your pen scratched! I'm so sorry

to have been so cross and selfish; but I never thought you had gone into your cold room,' and yet half a moment's thought would have told Milly that her cousin could have gone nowhere else.

'Never mind,' laughed Ethel; 'it doesn't matter, I shall soon get warm again;' but she was so thoroughly chilled that it was a long time before this took place, and Milly's

Milly's anxiety about Ethel.

155

peace of mind was gone for the rest of the day, for she felt sure that Ethel would wake next morning with a very bad cold, caused by her (Milly's) selfishness. Two or three times in the night she awoke, and, sitting up in bed, listened anxiously to hear if any noise of sneezing or coughing was to be heard in the adjoining room, and long before Jane came into her room in the morning, she stole very softly to her cousin's bedside, and stood looking at her as she still slept.

Suddenly Ethel opened her eyes. 'Why, Milly, is anything the matter ?' she exclaimed.

'Oh no,' kissing her. I only came to see if you had caught cold.'

'No,' said Ethel, laughing; ' of course I haven't, not in the least; but you will if you stand there any longer. Do go back to bed, dear, Milly, please do.'

'Oh, I'm all right. I shan't hurt. I am so glad you haven't caught cold. I was so afraid you would, and—'

Miss Milly Miss Milly! whatever are you a-doing, standing out there in the cold?' called out Jane's voice at this moment. 'Come back directly. Why, you haven't even put on your slippers! Oh my! what a child it is!' 'I'm coming,' cried Milly, running back. There-don't look so cross. There's no harm done. I never catch cold.' 'Oh, don't you, Miss? I suppose you've forgotten that time when-'

'I'm not going to remember anything unpleasant, and I'm going to dress very quickly, for it's such a lovely morning, I'm sure we shall be able to skate. It's all very

well for you to look cross, and pretend to scold, but you know you won't have me much longer, Jane. I shall soon be going back, and then you'll be sorry.'

'Bless your little heart! Sorry to lose you! Yes, that I shall, indeed.' And with this thought melted away all Jane's attempt at sternness.

'What do you say to spending two or three days in London, little girls, on your way down to Elworthy?' asked Herbert, one morning at breakfast. 'Do you feel inclined for any sight-seeing?'

Inclined for sight-seeing they certainly were, but no longer inclined for any breakfast; for who, anticipating such supreme happiness as a visit to London at Christmas time, could find an appetite for bread and butter? Not Milly, or even quiet Ethel. Mr. Grant's proposal put them both into such a state of excitement that Harry, accustomed to London sights all his life, looked on amazed, and, if the truth be told, with no small contempt.

'Just like gals!' he confided to Silverhair. 'Fancy making such a hullabulloo about going to London, and seeing a pantomime, and the Zoo-oo-you know gardens. Why, I've seen it all lots of times, and I don't think it's such a very fine sight.'

'But you have lived in London all your life, dear, and have often been to the theatre, and seen the lions and tigers; but Ethel and Milly never have. It will be all new to them, don't you see?'

Harry shrugged his shoulders. But when asked by Milly if he wasn't very glad to go up to town, he admitted that it would be rather stunning to see a new pantomime; but he wondered at their making such a fuss about it. However, he did not succeed in damping their pleasure, and there could scarcely be two happier little girls in the world than were Milly and Ethel when they found themselves seated in the railway carriage en route for London. It was such