"Children," said the aunt, first to awake, "be young fools as long as God will permit you. ” Lucy’s eyebrows knitted, trying to remember an unfortunate chinless girl running around the school. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement.
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