"But as to what we had for dinner, I really can't say.

Much the same as you have now, I fancy.

Let me see--it was November--very likely a roast chicken and rice pudding." "Oh!" said Sylvia, in a tone of some disappointment; "go on then, please, grandmother." "Where was I ?" said grandmother.

"Oh yes--well, after dinner we went up to the drawing-room, and grandmother, saying she was a good deal tired by her exertions of the morning, sat down in her own particular easy chair by the fire, and, spreading over her face a very fine cambric handkerchief which she kept, I strongly suspect, for the purpose, prepared for her after-dinner nap.

It was really a regular institution with her--but I noticed she always made some little special excuse for it, as if it was something quite out of the common.