"I will run upstairs and ask her," cried Georgiana. "I manage her better than any of you."
"What do you want, child?" asked Lady Anne, pettishly, who was listening to the news that her French maid had already collected of the neighbourhood.
"Oh, mamma," replied Georgiana, "we are all getting chilblains with sitting in that cold parlour, and—"
"Why do you not wear your gloves?" interrupted Lady Anne. "I shall disown you for my child if you have red hands."
"No, no, mamma; you know that we all take after you, and never were there such pretty little white hands in the world. But, mamma, I came to tell you that Mrs. Palmer has sent to ask us to tea; do let us go."
"I wonder how you can bear that odious woman's manners," returned her mother; "I expect that you will all grow like her in time. But it is of no use my saying anything; you will go if you chuse."
"Oh, thank you, mamma," cried Georgiana, not chusing to hear any more, and down stairs she ran to communicate the permission.
"I knew she would let us go," cried Georgiana, "when I praised her little white hands."
"Oh, Georgiana," cried Helen, colouring, "how can you flatter mamma as you do! It is very wrong."
Poor Georgiana stood silent and abashed. When
