VOL. IL
was in her way, and she kicked it out
of the way. The piano stool was an
obstacle to the free use of her limbs,
and she tilted that over. For full live
minutes she appeared in this-amiable
mood, during which annuals strewed
the floor, chairs were laid on their
backs, and the poker and shovel look
a turn or two of cachttcha around the
room. At length she threw herself
upon the sofa, and played the devil’s
Itatoo with her little left foot upon the
carpet till she was tired. She then
pulled to pieces a feather fan, ami scat
tered the fragments around the floor ;
took up a book, glanced into it. and
flung it to the further side of the room,
greatly to the peril of a beautiful new
French mirror, and to the utter d tno
lition of a cologne bottle, that unluck
ily stood in the coarse of its progress.
The fragrance of the spilled cologne,
or perhaps exhaustion, calmed her.and
after venting a few gentle epithets at
the Odd Fellows in general, she rung
the bell for a servant to bring her an
ice-cream from the next confectioners ;
an excellent cooler in such cases.
Mrs. Preston was not a simpleton,
nor a vixen nor a fool. She had good
sense, a cultivated mind, and knew’a
great deal better than to act as she did.
