"But the picture is so," urged Daisy, quietly. "You want to be like the picture."
"No, I don't. Not that picture. I would like to be something handsome. I don't like that picture."
Daisy was silent, and Nora pouted.
"What are you going to be, Daisy?" said Ella Stanfield.
"I am going to be Priscilla. No, I don't know whether I am or not; but I am going to be Fortitude, I believe."
"That's pretty," said Ella. "What else? Oh, you are going to be the angel, aren't you? I wonder if that will be pretty. It will be queer. Nora, shall you like to be one of the little princes in the Tower? with that feather-bed coming over us? But we shall not see it, I suppose, because our eyes have got to be shut; but I shall be afraid every minute they will let it fall on us."
"My eyes won't be shut," said Nora.
"Oh, they must. You know, the little princes were asleep, when the men came to kill them. Your eyes must be shut and you must be asleep. Oh, what are they doing to Theresa?"
"Dressing her " said Daisy.
"What is she going to be?"