her proper size. Ever since Augusta awoke and saw that her sister had returned, she had followed her movements with anxious and enquiring eyes; but Prudence determined to give her no information until night, when all the boarders were safely in bed, and when infantile cries were unlikely to reach them. Accordingly, having waited until one by one the residents at 37, Beaconsfield Gardens, had departed to their several rooms, and the house was wrapped in repose, Prudence stole into her sister's apartment and communicated the disastrous intelligence. She had reason to congratulate herself on the choice of so late an hour, for Augusta, despite prayers and remonstrances, took it very badly indeed. She sobbed, howled, kicked, balled her little red fists into her eyes, and in every way that her circumstances permitted expressed her sorrow, anger, and disappointment. In vain Prudence implored her to be quiet. Her overwhelming dismay apparently shut out all other thought, and it was only when her sister actually put a pillow over her head, to stifle her cries, that she consented to moderate the expression of her grief. Once she grew quieter, the tender-hearted Prudence took her up, kissed and tried to comfort
