As they sat on the floor, Mrs.Buxton thought what a pretty contrast they made; Erminia, dazzlingly fair, with her golden ringlets, and her pale-blue frock; Maggie's little round white shoulders peeping out of her petticoat; her brown hair as glossy and smooth as the nuts that it resembled in color; her long black eye-lashes drooping over her clear smooth cheek, which would have given the idea of delicacy, but for the coral lips that spoke of perfect health: and when she glanced up, she showed long, liquid, dark-gray eyes.

The deep red of the curtain behind, threw out these two little figures well.
Dawson came up.

She was a grave elderly person, of whom Erminia was far more afraid than she was of her aunt; but at Mrs.Buxton's desire she finished mending the frock for Maggie.
"Mr.Buxton has asked some of your mamma's old friends to tea, as I am not able to go down.

But I think, Dawson, I must have these two little girls to tea with me.

Can you be very quiet, my dears; or shall you think it dull ?" They gladly accepted the invitation; and Erminia promised all sorts of fanciful promises as to quietness; and went about on her tiptoes in such a labored manner, that Mrs.Buxton begged her at last not to try and be quiet, as she made much less noise when she did not.