‘But that’s very dreadful,’ exclaimed Lady Merrifield. ‘Fancy a poor child of thirteen not knowing how to play. I shall go and dig her out!’ So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to which Dolores answered-- ‘Can’t you let me alone? Go away,’ thinking it a treacherous ruse of the enemy to effect an entrance; but when her aunt said-- ‘Is there anything the matter, my dear? Won’t you let me in?’ she was obliged to open it. ‘No, there’s nothing the matter,’ she allowed. ‘Only I wanted them to let me alone.’ ‘They have not been rude to you, I hope.’ Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention the bouncing, so she allowed that no one had been rude to her, but she hated romping, which she managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt for suffering it. However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said-- ‘Ah! you have not been used to wholesome exercise in large families. I dare say it seems formidable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale. I can’t allow you to stay stuffed up there, poking over a book all the afternoon. It is very bad for you. We are going to have some historical tableaux. They are to have one set, and I thought perhaps you and I would get up some for them to guess in turn.’ Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she did not quite dare to say she did not choose to make herself ridiculous, and she knew there was authority in the tone, so she followed and endured. So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before the bright grate in the dining-room, and having his ears beautifully boxed. Also Knut and the waves, which were graphically represented by letting the wind in under the drugget, and pulling it up gradually over his feet, but these, Mysie explained, were only for the little ones. Rollo and his substitute doing homage to Charles the Simple, were much more effective; as Gillian in that old military cloak of her father’s, which had seen as much service in the play-room as in the field, stood and scowled at Wilfred in the crown and mamma’s ermine mantle, being overthrown by Harry at his full height. The excitement was immense when it was announced that mamma had a tableau to represent with the help of Dolores, who was really warming a little to the interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike being dressed up with one of the boy’s caps with three ostrich feathers, to accompany her aunt in hood and cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who had, together with the bow and papa’s old regimental sword, been borrowed to personate the robber of Hexham. Everybody screamed with ecstasy except Fergus, who thought it very hard that he should not have been Prince Edward instead of a stupid girl. So, to content all parties, mama undertook to bring in as many as possible, and a series from the life of Elizabeth Woodville was accordingly arranged.