"No, no, Mollie, little dark Frenchified men are not my taste, even if they have nice voices. My private hero must be very different from Monsieur Blackie." Then a crackling laugh from behind the sofa made both the girls jump up in affright, and the next moment Waveney looked not unlike her soubriquet, as, uttering dire threats of vengeance, she flew round and round the room after the treacherous eavesdropper, until Noel, exhausted by laughter, subsided into a corner and submitted to be shaken. "'Monsieur Blackie, to be continued in our next,'" exclaimed the incorrigible lad, when Waveney grew weary with her punitive exertions. "My word, there must be a new note-book for this. 'Storm and Stress enacting the part of Good Samaritan';" and here Noel fairly crowed himself out of the room. "He has heard every word," observed Waveney, in a dejected tone. "I am afraid we laughed too loud, and that roused his curiosity. Oh, dear, what a boy he is! And none of us keep him in order;" but Mollie was too exhausted to answer her. CHAPTER III. "KING CANUTE" COMES BACK. "Care to our coffin adds a nail no doubt. And every grin, so merry, draws one out." JOHN WALCOT. "And Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O; Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, And then she made the lasses, O." BURNS. As the soft September twilight stole over the room, the girls became more silent. Waveney seemed buried in thought, and Mollie, tired out with laughing, nestled against her comfortably, and very nearly went to sleep. But she was roused effectually by Waveney's next speech. "Sweetheart"--her pet name for Mollie--"I am going to make you miserable, I am afraid, but I have been telling myself all day long that we must face the situation. If father does not get a good price for his picture, what are we to do?" "But he must sell it," returned Mollie, in a distressed voice. "Barker is getting disagreeable about his bill, and his man says nasty things to Ann when he leaves the meat. And we owe Chandler for two tons of coal." "Yes, I know;" and Waveney sighed heavily. "Those two tons have been on my mind all day." "You poor dear, no wonder you looked tired. Ah, how hateful and mean it is to be poor! Ah, you are not as wicked and rebellious as I am, Wave. I sometimes cry with the longing for the pretty things other girls have. I cannot resign myself to the idea of being shabby and pinched and careworn all my life long. If this goes on we shall be old women before our time; when I am ordering dinner I feel nearly a hundred."