had some, and so did I, and it was good; and then candles came. _Such_
lovely silver, and so beautifully cleaned; and Aunt and Uncle kissed
me. I dodged Lady Farrington's false teeth, because, after her cap
incident, she might have bitten me. And Uncle said, "Too late, too late
for a little one to sit up--no beauty sleep!" And Aunt Maria said,
"Tut, tut!" and I thought it must be the middle of the night--it felt
like it. But do you know, Mamma, when I got upstairs to my room it was
only _half-past ten!_

I have such a huge room, with a four-post feather bed in it. I had let
Agnès go to bed directly after her supper, with a toothache, so I had
to get undressed by myself; and I was afraid to climb in from the side,
it was so high up. But I found some steps with blue carpet on them, as
well as a table with a Bible, and a funny old china medicine spoon, and
glass and water-jug on it; and the steps did nicely, for when I got to
the top, I just took a header into the feathers. It seemed quite comfy
at first, but in a few minutes, goodness gracious, I was suffocated!
And it was such a business getting the whole mass on the floor; and
then I did not know very well how to make the bed again, and I had not
a very good night, and overslept myself in the morning. So I got down
late for prayers. Uncle John reads them, and Aunt Maria repeats
responses whenever she thinks best, as she can't hear a word; but I
suppose she counts up, and, from long habit, just says "Amen" when she
gets to the end of--thirty, say--fancying that will be right; and it is
generally. Only Uncle John stopped in the middle to say, "Damn that
dog!" as Fido was whining and scratching outside, so that put her out
and brought in the "Amen" too soon.

[Sidenote: _Family Prayers_]