“Alice and I used to play at ball; but there’s no ball here!”
“Then I’ll stuff my pocket-handkerchief with seaweed, and make one;” and Kate spread out her delicate cambric one—not quite so fit for such a purpose as the little cheap cotton ones at home, that Mary tried in vain to save from cruel misuse.
“Here’s a famous piece! Look, it is all wriggled; it is a mermaid’s old stay-lace that she has used and thrown away. Perhaps she broke it in a passion because her grandmother made her wear so many oyster-shells on her tail!”
“There are no such creatures as mermaids,” said Sylvia, looking at her solemnly.
This was not a promising beginning; Sylvia Joanna was not a bit like Sylvia Katharine, nor like Adelaide and Grace de la Poer; yet by seeing each other every day, she and Kate began to
