CHAPTER VI. 



Christmas Eve, which was also a Saturday, dawned brightly on Henrietta, but even her eagerness for her new employment could not so far overcome her habitual dilatoriness as not to annoy her cousin, Busy Bee, even to a degree of very unnecessary fidgeting when there was any work in hand. She sat on thorns all breakfast time, devoured what her grandpapa called a sparrow's allowance, swallowed her tea scalding, and thereby gained nothing but leisure to fret at the deliberation with which Henrietta cut her bread into little square dice, and spread her butter on them as if each piece was to serve as a model for future generations. 

The subject of conversation was not precisely calculated to soothe her spirits. Grandmamma was talking of giving a young party--a New-year's party on Monday week, the second of January. "It would be pleasant for the young people," she thought, "if Mary did not think it would be too much for her." 

Beatrice looked despairingly at her aunt, well knowing what her answer would be, that it would not be at all too much for her, that she should be very glad to see her former neighbours, and that it would be a great treat to Henrietta and Fred. 

"We will have the carpet up in the dining-room," added Mrs. Langford, "and Daniels, the carpenter, shall bring his violin, and we can get up a nice little set for a dance." 

"O thank you, grandmamma," cried Henrietta eagerly, as Mrs. Langford looked at her. 
Did it have a nickname?
devoured what her grandpapa called a sparrow's allowance