There is somebody, by name Flora, who is looked for daily by stage-coach. "Flory," says my aunt, "sings like a canary-bird, and plays a sight,"--and _at sight_ too, it seems. This Miss Flora will be found to possess a tongue, I hope, and the disposition to give it exercise. I do not know certainly that Miss Etty--By the way, what is her real name? I won't condescend to ask any question about her. But really, I wish I knew whether it is Mehitable. Perhaps Henrietta. No, no, that is too pretty a name; I shall call her _Little Ugly_. Hark! I have two or three times heard a very musical laugh in the direction of the kitchen. Heigh-ho! How can any mortal laugh in Ratborough! Having nothing better to do, I will go and see who this very merry personage may be. I will inquire into this gay outbreak, in a land of stupidity. Hark, again!--how refreshing! I must and will know what caused such a gush of mirth. Irish humor, perhaps, for Norah is laughing, after her guttural fashion, too.-- As I popped my head into the kitchen, Little Ugly was just vanishing at the opposite door. I could not make Norah tell me what Miss Etty put under her arm, as she looked over her shoulder at me, and darted out of sight. O my noisy boots! I might as well wear a bell round my neck. Stage-wheels are rattling up the road. Now they run upon the grass before the door. I rush in undignified haste to the window. Shall I--will I--go and help this long-expected Miss Flora to alight? No,--for I see forty boxes on the coach-top. A very handsome girl, really! I will get out a blameless dickey,--if such there be. First impressions are important. I wish my hair was cut! I hear my aunt coming to inform me of Flora's arrival. I shall be hugely surprised! Humph!--will it be worth while to trouble myself about the lop-eared dickey? Little Ugly will be amused, if I do. She _can_ laugh, it seems. I had thought there was no fun in her mental composition. Yet I have imagined a glimmer or so in her eyes, when she thought I was not looking at them, and the shadow of a dimple in her cheek now and then. Instead of Adonizing, I will set my long locks on end, and don my slipshod slippers. "Yes, Aunt; I hear, good lady! I will presently arrive, to make my bow to _Little Handsome_." * * * * *