"You are a very _dis_orderly-sergeant, dear!" she said.

"Just look at your hair! It looks as if all the four winds had been blowing through it--" "Instead of all the ten fingers _going_ through it," interrupted her husband.

"Never mind my hair; that is not the point.
_What_--do--you--propose--to--do--with--your daughter--Hildegarde, or Hildegardis, as it should properly be written ?" "Well, dear George," said the commander-in-chief (she was a very small woman and a very pretty one, though she had a daughter "older than herself," as her husband said; and she wore a soft lilac gown, and had soft, wavy brown hair, and was altogether very pleasant to look at)--"well, dear George, the truth is, I _have_ a little plan, which I should like very much to carry out, if you fully approve of it." "Ha!" said Mr.Graham, tossing his "tempestuous locks" again, "ho! I thought as much.

_If_ I approve, eh, little madam?
Better say, whether I approve or not." So saying, the good-natured giant sat himself down again, and listened while his wife unfolded her plan; and what the plan was, we shall see by and by.

Meanwhile let us take a peep at Hilda, or Hildegardis, as she sits in her own room, all unconscious of the plot which is hatching in the parlor below.