"It's my very own shoe, and it was given me to my own self." Dorcas looked at her curiously, but said no more, only as she was going out of the room Griselda heard her saying something about "so very like Miss Sybilla." "I wonder what 'Miss Sybilla' _was_ like ?" thought Griselda.

"I have a good mind to ask the cuckoo.

He seems to have known her very well." It was not for some days that Griselda had a chance of asking the cuckoo anything.

She saw and heard nothing of him--nothing, that is to say, but his regular appearance to tell the hours as usual.
"I suppose," thought Griselda, "he thinks the mandarins' ball was fun enough to last me a good while.

It really was very good-natured of him to take me to it, so I mustn't grumble." A few days after this poor Griselda caught cold.