"Let me look at it first," says Isola, "we learn almost everything at college, Mrs. Shelfer; but even we senior sophists don’t know every thing without seeing it yet." "Then put your pretty eyes on them, Miss Idols; I’ll be bound it will make them caper. I never see such fine ones, nor the cook’s mate either. Why they’re as big as young whelks." "Mollusca, or Crustacea, or something!" exclaims Isola, with more pride than accuracy, "what queer little things. I must take them to my papa." "Now, young ladies," cried Mrs. Shelfer in her grandest style, "I see I must explain them to you after all. Them’s the blessed shells the poor sailors put in their eyes to scour them out, and keep them bright, and make them see in the dark against the wind. Only see how they crawls. There now, Miss Valence, I’ll pick you out two big lively fellows, and pop one for you in the corner of each eye; the cook’s mate showed me how to lift your eyelids." "How kind of him, to be sure!’ "And it will crawl about under the lid, you must not mind its hurting a bit; and it won’t come out till to-morrow when the clock strikes twelve, and then it will have eaten up every bit, and your eyes will be brighter than diamonds. Charley has seen them do it ever so many times, and he says it’s bootiful, and they don’t mind giving five shillings a piece for them, when they are scarce." "Did Mr. Shelfer ever try them? His eyes are so sharp: perhaps that is the reason." "No. I never heard that he did, Miss. But bless you he never tells me half he does; no, nor a quarter of half." At this recollection, she fetches a little short sigh, her nearest approach to melancholy, for she is not sentimental. "Care killed the cat," is her favourite aphorism. "Then when he comes home, Mrs. Shelfer, pop one of these shells, a good big one, into each of his eyes; and let us know the effect to-morrow morning, and I’ll give you a kiss, if you do it well." This is the bribe Isola finds most potent with everybody. "Lor, Miss Idols, bless your innocent heart, do you suppose he would let me? Why he thinks it a great thing to let me tie his shoe, and he won’t only when he has had a good dinner." "Well," cries Isola, "I am astonished! Catch me tying my husband’s shoes! I shall expect him to tie mine, I know; and he shall only do that when he is very good." With a regal air, she puts out the prettiest foot ever seen. Mrs. Shelfer laughs. "Lor, Miss, it’s all very well for girls to talk; and they all does it, till they knows better. Though for the likes of you, any one would do anything a most. Pray, Miss Idols, if I may make so bold, how many offers of marriage have you received?"