"That's a question, I fancy, that has not occurred to our young friend," remarked Josephine. "It's easily enough settled," I answered. "White muslin, 'with variations,' will be a sufficient toilette for _me_, you know." "You'll excuse me for saying, that I think it is a matter of very little moment to any one but yourself," said she, with a laugh, as she rose from the table. "Don't be spiteful, Joseph," said Grace, the only error of whose tactics was, that she could not confine herself to any one side in an encounter, and could not resist administering a blow on any exposed cranium, indiscriminately of friend or foe--"don't be spiteful, Joseph. She couldn't help taking off Victor, you know. It was trying, to be sure, but then it left you more time for 'the substantials.'" Josephine, pressing her lips together, darted a threatening look at her sister, who, with a pleasant little nod, slipped through the folding doors and vanished. "May I speak to you a moment?" I said, following Mrs. Churchill into the butler's pantry. "Certainly," she answered, in a tone that did not invite confidence. I had followed my aunt to say two things to her: the first was about myself, the second was about Esther. I had meant to say that if she really thought I was doing an unwise thing in going to these balls, I was willing to give them up. Conscience had made a suggestion or two that morning, and I was not yet careless about its admonitions. A kind word of advice, a look of motherly reluctance to deny me pleasure, and yet of motherly solicitude for my good, would have settled the doubt, and put me in the right way. But the tone in which she said "certainly," and proceeded to fit the key into the wine-closet, without so much as a look toward me, roused all the evil in my heart. "You will never be troubled with any of my repentances," I thought, angrily; and then, in a tone that I suppose took its color from my thoughts, I said: "I came to say, Aunt Edith, that perhaps you are not aware how much it irritates Essie to have Félicie take care of her. Félicie doesn't seem to have a pleasant way with her, and now she is confined to the nursery, she is continually fretted and unhappy. I find her more feverish every time I go upstairs, and I thought perhaps if you were willing to let Frances sit up there instead, she would amuse and keep her quiet better. She seems to like Frances." Mrs. Churchill turned around and regarded me attentively for a moment, then said: