"Now I want to show all these," she said, "to my darling Dorothea, that she may choose exactly what she likes; and it is high time to put her necklace on, that you have made so beautifully, Ariel." She always called me "Ariel;" because she had heard her mother do it, once or twice, and she said it was so much prettier than "Tommy." And although she was more than ten years old, she had not outgrown the wholesome joy of a little woman in her baby-doll. Dorothea, moreover, was quite young at present, and sweetly instructive in the newest fashions, having only come two days ago from Paris, with the kind introduction of Professor Megalow. "You may sit down quite close to dear Dorothea; because you are not clumsy and rough, like Roly; who cannot at all enter into the feelings of a lovely and delicate creature, like this. And, Ariel, I am quite sure that Dolly will like you, as soon as she opens her eyes, which are shut now--you must understand--from the sea-air being too much for her. But you must let me put her necklace on, although you have made it so beautifully; not that I would not trust you to do it, but because you cannot understand her hair. It would hardly be proper, if you did, you know." She was always like this, such a sweet little love; so afraid of hurting anybody's feelings, and so ready to think everybody good. When I sat down near her, on a bank of bed-rushes, with the doll sitting carefully between us, I could not help feeling ungrateful in my heart, for the prospect of Miss Polly Windsor to-morrow. And I could not quite fancy that Maiden Lane--though alive with delights of its proper class--could supply such contentment to sight, and thought (not that I put it so grandly then) as the place I sate in, and the things I saw. For the tide was coming in, with pleasant feeling of the air, and ready briskness of the things, that had been waiting for it. At every short step that it made in advance--for the waves toddled in, like babies--there was some pretty thing, starting up in front, to run, and to glisten before it. But the prettiest thing of all sate there by me. "You are always at work," she said, "always doing something. Why do people want us to be educated so? Those funny letters are all Greek, I know; because Roly has got some that he learns at Harrow. But he doesn't seem to like it, more than I like French; and he puts it in a cupboard, for the holidays. Ariel, why should you work more than Roly does? He never does a thing, unless he likes it." I had thought this out, and my reply was ready. "Roly will be a rich man, and I shall not. He belongs to great people, and I belong to small ones. He will get on all the same, whether he works, or not." "Then I call that as unfair as anything can be. And I could not have believed it, though I know you tell the truth, unless I had heard of such things before. We all ought to work, to do good, of course; but not in the middle of the holidays."