"That's the kind he loves best, little one," said her mother, coming into the room to tuck her in once more. "It doesn't make any difference about the pronouns. The more we mix our neighbours with ourselves in our prayers, the better he is pleased."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING.
"There! You are ready at last!" said Mrs. Sherman, as she finished buttoning Lloyd's gloves, and fastened the jewelled clasp of her long party cloak. She had come over to help the Little Colonel dress for the Butterfly Luncheon at Anna Moore's.
Feeling very elegant in her unusual party array, Lloyd surveyed herself in the mirror with a satisfied air, and sat down beside Allison to wait for the carriage that Mrs. Moore had promised to send for them. Mrs. Walton was tying Kitty's sash, and in the next room Elise was buzzing around like an excited little bee.
"Hold still! Do now!" they heard Milly say, impatiently. "I'll never get the tangles brushed out of your curls, and the others will go off and leave you, and you'll have to miss the party."
Presently there was a long protesting wail from Elise. "Oh, Milly, what did you put that ribbon on my hair for? It isn't pink enough to match my stockings."
"There's scarcely any difference at all in the shades," answered Milly. "Sure it would take a microscope to tell, even if they were side by side, and your head is too far away from your heels for anybody to notice."