The things we do!

At the end of an hour the carriage was seen driving away, and Ethel
returned looking as pale as before, and red about the eyes. Miss Clara's
mutton-chop for dinner coming in at the same time, the child was not so
presently eager for her aunt's company. Aunt Ethel cut up the mutton-chop
very neatly, and then, having seen the child comfortably seated at her
meal, went with her friend into a neighbouring apartment (of course, with
some pretext of showing Laura a picture, or a piece of china, or a new
child's frock, or with some other hypocritical pretence by which the
ingenuous female attendants pretended to be utterly blinded), and there,
I have no doubt, before beginning her story, dearest Laura embraced
dearest Ethel, and vice versa.
"He is gone!" at length gasps dearest Ethel.
"Pour toujours? poor young man!" sighs dearest Laura. "Was he very
unhappy, Ethel?"
"He was more angry," Ethel answers. "He had a right to be hurt, but not
to speak as he did. He lost his temper quite at last, and broke out in
the most frantic reproaches.


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