It would be very well to send a note to good Mr.Kneebreeches, my dear Grizzel." "I thought you would agree with me," said Miss Grizzel, with a sigh of relief (as if poor Miss Tabitha during all the last half-century had ever ventured to do anything else), getting up to fetch her writing materials as she spoke.

"It is such a satisfaction to consult together about what we do.

I was only a little afraid of being hard upon the child, but as you agree with me, I have no longer any misgiving." "Any misgiving, oh dear, no!" said Miss Tabitha.

"You have no reason for any misgiving, I am sure, my dear Grizzel." So the note was written and despatched, and the next morning when, about twelve o'clock, Griselda made her appearance in the little drawing-room where her aunts usually sat, looking, it must be confessed, very plump and rosy for an invalid, Miss Grizzel broached the subject.
"I have written to request Mr.Kneebreeches to resume his instructions to-morrow," she said quietly.

"I think you are quite well again now, so Dorcas must wake you at your usual hour." Griselda had been settling herself comfortably on a corner of the sofa.
She had got a nice book to read, which her father, hearing of her illness, had sent her by post, and she was looking forward to the tempting plateful of jelly which Dorcas had brought her for luncheon every day since she had been ill.