Little Lily smiled her bright girlish smile, and threw both her arms round grand Aunt Becky’s neck.

’You good dear Aunt Becky, ’twas so kind and like you to come—­you and Gertie.  And oh, Geminie! what a grand pair of ladies!’ and she made a little rustic courtesy, like Nell in the farce.  ’And I never saw this before (a near peep at Gertrude’s necklace), and Aunt Becky, what beautiful lace.  And does not she look handsome, Gertie?  I never saw her look so handsome.  She’ll be the finest figure there.  There’s no such delicate waist anywhere.’  And she set her two slender little forefingers and thumbs together, as if spanning it.  ’You’ve no chance beside her, Gertie; she’ll set all the young fellows a-sighing and simpering.’

’You wicked little rogue!  I’ll beat you black and blue, for making fun of old Aunt Becky,’ cried Miss Rebecca, and ran a little race at her, about two inches to a step; her fan raised in her finger and thumb, and a jolly smile twinkling in her face, for she knew it was true about her waist, and she liked to be quizzed by the daring little girl.  Her diamonds were on too, and her last look in her mirror had given her a satisfactory assurance, and she always played with little Lily, when they met; everyone grew gay and girlish with her.

So they stayed a full quarter of an hour, and the footman coughing laboriously outside the window reminded Aunt Rebecca at last how time flew; and Lily was for sitting down and playing a minuet and a country dance, and making them rehearse their steps, and calling in old Sally to witness the spectacle before they went; and so she and Aunt Becky had another little sportive battle—­they never met, and seldom parted, without one.  How was it that when gay little Lily provoked these little mimic skirmishes Aunt Becky would look for a second or two an inexpressibly soft and loving look upon her, and become quite girlish and tender?  I think there is a way to every heart, and some few have the gift to reach it unconsciously and always.

So away rustled the great ladies, leaving Lily excited, and she stood at the window, with flushed cheek, and her fingers on the sash, looking after them, and she came back with a little smile and tears in her eyes.  She sat down, with a bright colour in her cheeks, and did play a country dance, and then a merry old Irish air, full of frolic and spirit, on the harpsichord; and gentle old Sally’s face peeped in with a wistful smile, at the unwonted sounds.

’Come, sober old Sally, my sweetheart!  I’ve taken a whim in my head, and you shall dress me, for to the ball I’ll go.’

‘Tut, tut, Miss Lily, darling,’ said old Sally, with a smile and a shake of the head.  ‘What would the doctors say?’

‘What they please, my darling.’

And up stood little Lily, with her bright colour and lustrous eyes.

‘Angel bright!’ said the old woman, looking in that beloved and lovely young face, and quite ‘filling up,’ as the saying is, ’there is not your peer on earth—­no—­not one among them all to compare with our Miss Lilias,’ and she paused, smiling, and then she said—­’But, my darling, sure you know you weren’t outside the door this five weeks.’