There was no hesitancy in regard to her further proceedings; for weeks past, she had had them all carefully arranged in her mind; she would have a tea-party, though, unfortunately, there could be no guests present but the dolls; yet at all events, she could have the great pleasure of handling that beautiful china and silver and seeing how a table would look set out with them.  A pleasure doubled by the fact that she was enjoying it in opposition to the known wishes and commands of her mother and the owner; for in Meta’s esteem ’stolen waters were sweet’ indeed.

She selected a damask table cloth from a pile that lay on one of the lower shelves, several napkins to match, slipping each of these last into a silver ring taken from a little basket that stood alongside, and proceeded with quiet glee, to deck a table with them, and the sets of china and silver she most admired.

“Beautiful! beautiful!  I never saw anything so pretty!” she exclaimed half aloud, as, her task finished, she stood gazing in rapt delight at the result of her labors.  “Oh I think it’s real mean in Aunt Elsie, to say we sha’n’t play with these, and to lock them up away from us.  But now for the company!” and running into the closet again, she brought out several of the largest dolls.

“I’ll dress them for dinner,” she said, still talking to herself in an undertone:  “that’ll be fun.  What lots of lovely things I shall find in these trunks; I’ll look them over and select what I like best to have them wear.  I’ll have time enough:  it isn’t at all likely anybody will come to disturb me for an hour:”  and as she opened the first trunk, she glanced hastily at the clock on the mantel.

She was mistaken.  Time flew away much faster than she was aware of, and scarce half an hour had passed when a pair of little feet came dancing along the hall, the door—­which in her haste and pre-occupation Meta had forgotten to lock—­flew open, and Vi stood before her.

The great blue eyes turning toward the table opened wide with astonishment.  “Why, why, Meta!”

Meta’s face flushed deeply for a moment, but thinking the best plan would be to brave it out, “Isn’t it pretty?” she asked, as unconcernedly as she could.

“Yes, oh lovely! but—­where did you—­aren’t they my grandma’s things?  O Meta, how could you ever dare—­”

“Pooh!  I’m not going to hurt ’em.  And why should you think they were hers? can’t other people have pretty things?”

“Yes, but I know they’re grandma’s, I rec—­recog—­recognize them.  Oh what shall we do?  I wouldn’t venture to touch ’em, even to put them back.”

“What a big word that was you used just now,” said Meta, laughing, “It ’most choked you.”

“Well when I’m bigger it won’t,” returned Vi, still gazing at the table.  “Oh how lovely they are!  I do wish mamma would let us play with them.”

“So do I:  and these dolls too.  It’s just delightful to dress and undress them.  Here, Vi, help me put this one’s shoes on.”