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Miss Pross was a pleasant sight, albeit wild, and red, and grim,

taking off her darling's bonnet when she came up-stairs, and

touching it up with the ends of her handkerchief, and blowing the

dust off it, and folding her mantle ready for laying by, and

smoothing her rich hair with as much pride as she could possibly

have taken in her own hair if she had been the vainest and

handsomest of women. Her darling was a pleasant sight too,

embracing her and thanking her, and protesting against her taking

so much trouble for her--which last she only dared to do

playfully, or Miss Pross, sorely hurt, would have retired to her

own chamber and cried. The Doctor was a pleasant sight too,

looking on at them, and telling Miss Pross how she spoilt Lucie,

in accents and with eyes that had as much spoiling in them as

Miss Pross had, and would have had more if it were possible. Mr.