"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Lawton, "it's very simple. You need just say to yourself 'not worth a stiver'--there's your saying; but she owns a house, there's your contradiction, and you have the name as quickly as possible. Yes, I shall always remember the name Stivers!" "If," slowly put in John, "if you don't happen to forget 'the saying.'" And good-by being said, with arms about waists the sisters held in the hall one of those secret conclaves over only heaven and themselves knew what, but without which they were never known to part for more than twenty-four hours. Then with her moon face all red with heat and hurry Lena rushed out with a package of hot cookies, crying: "I bake dem cake youst by der train time, und dere blazes hot! But I tie 'em mit a long string so you don't com' burnt by der hants!" Mrs. Lawton came to the door and indignantly demanded: "What folly and presumption is this, Lena Klippert? Retire at once and take your obnoxious offering with you!" "Den you don' vant dem cookies, my Miss Lady? You tink I com' by der cheek, uf I bring 'em here?" poor Lena quavered, shamefacedly. But Sybil fitted the looped string over her finger and flashed a radiant smile at the faithful little German drudge, and, dangling the package in the air, quoted: "'This little pig went to market!' Just wait till to-night, Lena, when I'm alone in my room, and the little pig will have cookies, eh?" "Ja! ja!" nodded and smiled Lena. "You com' make very fine little pig, Miss Sybbils; sometimes you can com' black, but ven you smiles, your lips youst curl up like a flower!" And, amid general laughter, Sybil departed for the city with Leslie doing escort duty, while John and Dorothy Lawton received an informing lecture upon the structure, quality, and quantity of brain to be found in the low-class Germans that nicely filled up the rest of their afternoon. At Mrs. Van Camp's house Sybil's return was followed almost immediately by the announcement from the wearer of the mulberry livery of: "A person--an elderly female person--to see you, ma'am; by appointment, she claims, ma'am. Show her up? Yes, ma'am. Hem! if you'll excuse the boldness--Mr. Poll's in the library, and he do be swearing awful, beyond anythink, ma'am. What for is it? Why, ma'am, someone--I suppose it's the young lady, ma'am--put a shaving-glass in his cage, and he's been cussin' of he'self ever since he laid eyes on it. Shall I be carryin' him to the basement, or covering him up? I don't know. Yes, ma'am, I'll take him down as you say." And a few moments later he returned, haughtily ushered in Mrs. Jane Stivers, and retired.