18 ELIZABETH CARY AGASSIZ 
Mary or me? Do say me,” and he answered, “Dear 
Me,” was very appropriate; and “Dear Me,” we 
younger ones used to call her. 
The earliest anecdote told of Elizabeth Cary chronicles 
the nearest approach to a misdemeanor that is recorded 
against her in the course of her eighty-five years. Her com- 
panion on the downward path was her cousin, Lizzie Cabot 
(afterward Mrs. Henry Lee), who was of about the same 
age and with whom she was so identified that they were 
called by the family “The Lizzies.” Mrs. Curtis tells the 
story. 
The Lizzies had been reading aloud a very inter- 
esting novel and had arrived at such an intense point 
that they agreed it would be impossible to sleep with 
the doubt of the heroine’s fate on their minds; so it 
was arranged that Lizzie Cary was to return to her 
uncle’s house after tea for the end, and it was thought 
more prudent in case of an interruption, that Lizzie 
Cabot should be found in bed and so a little nearer 
going to sleep. The plot of the book hung on a mis- 
understanding which started between the hero and 
heroine from the very church door after their mar- 
riage, and their sorrows filled the first two volumes, 
but in the third volume they met over the dying bed 
of an old servant. As they bent to receive his last 
words, one of Lady Mary’s long curls caught on her 
husband’s coat button, their eyes met — and at that 
point the Lizzie in bed sprang up with a shriek of 
excitement, old Nannie rushed from the nursery, my 
Uncle Cabot from his library, and the Lizzie from 
