"You need not be unfeeling," says Molly, reproachfully, "and I won't listen to you making fun of him behind his back. You wouldn't before his face." "How do you know?" As though weighing the point. "I never saw him funny until to-day. He was on the verge of tears the entire way. It was lucky I was beside him, or he would have drenched the new cushions. For shame's sake he refrained before me, but I know he is in floods by this." "He is not," says Molly, indignantly. "Crying, indeed! What an idea! He is far too much of a man for that." "I am a man too," says John, who seems to find a rich harvest of delight in the contemplation of Luttrell's misery. "And once, before we were married, when Letitia treated me with disdain, I gave way to my feelings to such an extent that----" "Really, John," interposes his wife, "I wish you would keep your stupid stories to yourself, or else go away. We are very busy settling about Molly's things." "What things? Her tea-things,--her playthings? Ah! poor little Molly! her last nice new one is gone." "Letty, I hope you don't mind, dear," says Molly, lifting a dainty china bowl from the table near her. "Let us trust it won't break; but, whether it does or not, I must and will throw it at John." "She should at all events have one pretty new silk dress," murmurs Letitia, vaguely, whose thoughts "are with her heart, and that is far away," literally buried, so to speak, in the depths of her wardrobe. "She could not well do without it. Molly,"--with sudden inspiration,--"you shall have mine. That dove-color always looks pretty on a girl, and I have only worn it once. It can easily be made to fit you." "I wish, Letitia, you would not speak to me like that," says Molly, almost angrily, though there are tears in her eyes. "Do you suppose I want to rob you? I have no doubt you would give me every gown you possess, if I so willed it, and leave yourself nothing. Do remember I am going to Herst more out of spite and curiosity than anything else, and don't care in the least how I look. It is very unkind of you to say such things." "You are the kindest soul in the world, Letty," says John from the doorway; "but keep your silk. Molly shall have one too." After which he decamps. "That is very good of John," says Molly. "The fact is, I haven't a penny of my own,--I never have a week after I receive my allowance,--so I must only do the best I can. If I don't like it, you know, I can come home. It is a great thing to know, Letty, that _you_ will be glad to have me, whether I am well dressed or very much the reverse." "Exactly. And there is this one comfort also, that you look well in anything. By the bye, you must have a maid. You shall take Sarah, and we can get some one in until you come back to us. That"--with a smile--"will prevent your leaving us too long to our own devices. You will understand without telling what a loss the fair Sarah will be."