fallen
down, and
to catch a
glimpse of
the
paternal
minister
marching
upstairs
with a
grave
countenance
and a wine
bottle
under each
arm. “Upon
my word,
here’s a
state of
things!”
cried the
old lady,
taking the
seat of
honor
prepared
for her,
and
settling
the folds
of her
lavender
moire with
a great
rustle.
“You
oughtn’t
to be seen
till the
last
minute,
child.”
“I’m not a
show,
aunty, and
no one is
coming to
stare at
me, to
criticize
