The cup was filled with the desired "drawing of tea," and stood in readiness on the table, but as the minutes sped, Mrs. Hennesy, warm and perspiring, but loyal for Marie Jean's sake to the bead cape, began to feel more at ease. Mrs. Lee was not like Mrs. Casey, it was true, and could never fill her place,--but she would make a good neighbour,--and the girls were as pretty as pictures with their contrasting styles of beauty and pretty dresses. Of course, they were not to be compared with Mary Jane. Mary Jane was--well, more dressed-up like and stylish, than these Lee girls. But they were nice and kind, and treated their mother like a queen. Mrs. Hennesy wished Mary Jane might be there to see it. "Sure an' Mary Jane will be in to see you wan of these days, soon," said Mrs. Hennesy as she rose to terminate her call. "It's bashful she is, or else jealous, wid John Thomas soundin' Miss Billy's praises all day long. It's 'Miss Billy says this,' an' 'Miss Billy does that,' an' he thinks Mary Jane can't hould a candle to Miss Billy,--an' that's the thruth of it." "And I think John Thomas is a jewel," declared Miss Billy warmly. "I wouldn't have a flower now if it wasn't for him. Do come out and look at them, Mrs. Hennesy,--and carry a bouquet to your daughter from me." "Well now,--if them ain't lovely," declared Mrs. Hennesy, as Miss Billy began culling with a generous hand. "An' thim ould fashioned hollyhocks, as sassy as you plaze. Another summer an' I'll be havin' some fer mesilf." "You may have slips and seeds from all my plants," responded Miss Billy generously, "and John Thomas could easily bring the dirt." Mrs. Hennesy shook her head doubtfully. "It's wades I'd be after raisin'," she protested. "Sure an' flowers don't be growin' fer ivery wan loike they do fer you." "Weeds!" Miss Billy took up the words dolefully. "Mrs. Hennesy, weeds are making my existence miserable. Look at my hands from keeping the weeds down. But it's no use,--look there!" She pointed as she spoke, up and down Cherry Street, and Mrs. Hennesy's following glance took in a long vista of rank vegetation flanking every sidewalk and dooryard, weeds great and small, broad and feathery, tall and diminutive, flaunting their rank growth in the hot sunshine. "Well, thim's not all yours," said Mrs. Hennesy consolingly. "There's none in your yard, so ye needn't care." "Oh, but I see them, and I hate them so!" said Miss Billy despairingly. "And the seeds are beginning to blow over here. The plantain and dandelions are killing my new grass already." "Well, wheriver there's good, there's bad," said Mrs. Hennesy philosophically: "An' if the good stopped tryin' an' quit what w'ud become of the world, I'd loike to know? Hould fast to yer flowers, Miss Billy, an' remimber whereiver wan of thim grows a weed can't," with which comforting advice the kind-hearted Mrs. Hennesy, holding fast to Marie Jean's bouquet and the borrowed cup of tea, took her departure.