was to be turned up on the very top of my head with a huge shell comb,
borrowed for the occasion from mamma's drawer. Upon my grandmother's
entrance, I intended to rise and make her a very stiff courtesy, and
then deliver a series of womanish remarks. This, I say, _was_ to have
been my first appearance--but alas! fate ordered otherwise. I was caught
by my dignified relative indulging in a game of romps upon the balcony
with two or three little sisters in pinafores and pantalettes--myself as
much a child as any of them. My grandmother came rather suddenly upon me
as, with my long hair floating in wild confusion, I stooped to pick up
my comb; and while in this ungraceful position, one of the little
urchins playfully climbed upon my back, while the others held me down.
My three little sisters had never appeared to such disadvantage in my
eyes, as they did at the present moment; in vain I tried to shake them
off--they only clung the closer, from fright, on being told of their
grandmother's arrival.

At length, with crimsoned cheeks, and the hot tears starting to my eyes,
I rose and received, rather than returned the offered embrace, and found
myself in the capacious arms of one whom I should have taken for an old
dowager duchess. On glancing at my grandmother's portly figure and
consequential air, I experienced the uncomfortable sensation of utter
insignificance--I encountered the gaze of those full, piercing eyes, and
felt that I was conquered. Still I resolved to make some struggles for
my dignity yet, and not submit until defeat was no longer doubtful.
People in talking of "unrequited affection," speak of "the knell of
departed hopes," but no knell could sound more dreadful to the
ears of a girl in her teens--trembling for her scarcely-fledged
young-lady-hood--than did the voice of my grandmother, (and it was by no
means low), as she remarked: