little trousseau. Gladys and Zoe always dressed alike, from the bow
round the neck to the bow on the little shoe that they so artlessly with
drew when in the presence of _gentlemen_. Gladys' formula for receiving
visitors never varied:

'Oh, how do you do--it is really too kind of you to give yourself all
this trouble to come and see us.'

Immediately after Zoe put out her hand. Her manner was more jocose:

'How d'ye do? We are, I am sure, delighted to see you. Will you have a
cup of tea? I know you will.'

Emily, being considered too shy and silent, did not often come down to
receive company. On her devolved the entire management of the house and
servants; the two elder sisters killed time in the way they thought
would give least offence to their neighbours.

Being all St. Leonard's girls, the conversation immediately turned on
convent-life. 'Was Madam this there? Had Madam that left?' Garden
chapel, school, hall, dormitory, refectory were visited; every nun was
passed in review, and, in the lightness and gaiety of the memories
invoked, even these maiden ladies flushed and looked fresh again, the
conversation came to a pause, and then allusion was made to the
disturbed state of the country, and to a gentleman who, it was reported,
was going to be married. But, as Alice did not know the person whose
antecedents were being called into question, she took an early
opportunity of asking Gladys if she cared for riding? 'No, they never
went to ride now: they used to, but they came in so fatigued that they
could not talk to Emily; so they had given up riding.' Did they care for