“What is all this about?” said grandmamma, not particularly well pleased. “There, go, go, my dear; I don’t want any more, thank you: what are you in such a fuss for now, going out all day again?” “Yes, grandmamma,” said Beatrice, “did you not hear that Mr. Franklin asked us to dress the church for to-morrow? and we must not waste time in these short days.” “Dress the church! Well, I suppose you must have your own way, but I never heard of such things in my younger days. Young ladies are very different now!” Beatrice drove Henrietta up-stairs with a renewed “Do make haste,” and then replied in a tone of argument and irritation, “I do not see why young ladies should not like dressing churches for festivals better than arraying themselves for balls and dances!” True as the speech was, how would Beatrice have liked to have seen her father or mother stand before her at that moment? “Ah, well! it is all very well,” said grandmamma, shaking her head, as she always did when out-argued by Beatrice, “you girls think yourselves so clever, there is no talking to you; but I think you had much better let old Martha alone; she has done it well enough before ever you were born, and such a litter as you will make the Church won’t be fit to be seen to-morrow! All day in that cold damp place too! I wonder Mary could consent, Henrietta looks very delicate.” “O no, grandmamma, she is quite strong, very strong indeed.” “I am sure she is hoarse this morning,” proceeded Mrs. Langford; “I shall speak to her mamma.” “O don’t, pray, grandmamma; she would be so disappointed. And what would Mr. Franklin do?” “O very well, I promise you, as he has done before,” said Mrs. Langford, hastening off to the drawing-room, while her granddaughter darted upstairs to hurry Henrietta out of the house before a prohibition could arrive. It was what Henrietta had too often assisted Fred in doing to have many scruples, besides which she knew how grieved her mamma would be to be obliged to stop her, and how glad to find her safe out of reach; so she let her cousin heap on shawls, fur cuffs, and boas in a far less leisurely and discriminating manner than was usual with her. “It would be absolute sneaking (to use an elegant word), I suppose,” said Beatrice, “to go down the back stairs.” “True,” said Henrietta, “we will even take the bull by the horns.” “And trust to our heels,” said Beatrice, stealthily opening the door; “the coast is clear, and I know both your mamma and my papa will not stop us if they can help it. One, two, three, and away!”