At dinner Mrs. Stanley appeared with her nosegay in a large knot of ribbons, which was eyed with no small complacency by little Kate. I observed that Lucilla, who used to manifest much pleasure in the conversation after dinner, was beckoned out of the room by Ph[oe]be, as soon as it was over. I felt uneasy at an absence to which I had not been accustomed; but the cause was explained, when, at six o'clock, Kate, who was the queen of the day, was sent to invite us to drink tea in Lucilla's bower: we instantly obeyed the summons. "I knew nothing of this," said the delighted mother, while we were all admiring the elegant arrangements of this little fete. The purple clematis, twisting its flexile branches with those of the pale woodbine, formed a sweet and fragrant canopy to the arched bower, while the flowery tendrils hung down on all sides. Large bunches of roses, intermixed with the silver stars of the jessamine, were stuck into the moss on the inside as a temporary decoration only. The finest plants had been brought from the green-house for the occasion. It was a delicious evening, and the little fairy festivity, together with the flitting about of the airy spirits which had prepared it, was absolutely enchanting. Sir John, always poetical, exclaimed in rapture, "Hesperian fables true, If true, here only." I needed not this quotation to bring the garden of Eden to my mind, for Lucilla presided. Ph[oe]be was all alive. The other little ones had decorated Kate's flaxen hair with a wreath of woodbines. They sung two or three baby stanzas, which they had composed among themselves, in which Kate was complimented as queen of the fete. The youngest daughter of Lady Aston, who was about Kate's age, and two little girls of Dr. Barlow's, were of the children's party on the green. The elder sisters of both families made part of the company within. When we were all seated in our enchanting bower, and drinking our tea, at which we had no other attendants than the little Hebes themselves, I asked Kate how it happened that she seemed to be distinguished on this occasion from her little sisters. "Oh, sir," said she, "it is because it is my birth-day. I am eight years old to-day. I gave up all my gilt books, with pictures, this day twelvemonth, and to-day I give up all my little story books, and I am now going to read such books as men and women read." She then ran to her companions who ranged themselves round a turf seat at a little distance before us, to which were transferred a profusion of cakes and fruit from the bower. While they were devouring them, I turned to Mr. Stanley and desired an explanation of Kate's speech.