“Perhaps it is a virtue to be a ‘post,’ sometimes,” suggested the other girl—Eva Daventry, by name. “You wouldn’t care to have a post start up and strike you on the head if you chanced to run into it. That’s what smart-tongued people do. ‘Speech is silvern,’ sometimes; but ‘Silence is golden.’” Eva Daventry was a more gentle-faced girl than the others, and was often ridiculed for her sentimental, poetic way of viewing things. Even as she said this, she was looking out towards the distant hills, as though her thoughts were far beyond the level of her companions’ comprehension—as indeed they were; for Eva had begun to enter upon a higher life, of which, as yet, neither Mabel nor Merry knew anything. “Just like one of Eva’s sayings,” cried the latter, with a careless laugh. “I wonder what dried-up old sage invented that absurd axiom! One might as well talk about a cypher being of more value than a unit. Why weren’t we all born dumb?” “I know who _wasn’t_!” exclaimed a voice that seemed for the moment to come out of the sky itself; and almost before the girls could turn, Hubert Daventry had swung himself down from one of the larger boughs, and was descending the trunk. Mabel and Merry sprang to the ground with a startled air, but Eva kept her seat, looking up into her brother’s face with an admiring glance. They were “only” brother and sister, and thought a great deal of each other. “Now, I’ve got something worth looking at in my pocket,” said Hubert, eyeing the girls with an expression of amusement as he reached _terra firma_, “and I’ll vouchsafe the first peep to the one who knows how to give ‘the smartest answer.’ Girls have all got tongues, you know. That’s a settled question, so there’s no crying off; it’s simply a matter of competition. Come, now!” But neither Mabel nor Merry responded to the challenge. It was evident that Hubert had overheard their remarks about Cissy, and it is a speaking fact that, however much girls may indulge in backbiting when by themselves, they inevitably “feel small” if they chance to be caught at it by their boy friends. They know that it is small, and they are ashamed of it. Mabel glanced at Merry, and Merry at Mabel, and both looked down and were silent. Hubert occupied the interval in brushing the green from his clothes. “Come, now!” repeated he, “the prize is to be fairly won! I can’t in honesty include Eva in the competition after her last remark. When people affect contempt for any particular gift, you may make pretty sure they don’t possess it. It lies between you two.” “I, for one, don’t want to examine the lining of your pockets!” exclaimed Mabel, saucily. “I assure you, I didn’t contemplate turning them inside out for inspection,” returned Hubert, mischievously. “What’s in will come out without such strong measures.”