"And so you are great friends with my old flame, Molly O'Brien?" he said. "Molly O'Brien!" repeated I, wondering. "Lady O'Brien, then, if it pleases you better. Of course I forget she's an old woman, and the pretty name sounds odd to a young creature like you. All the same, Molly was a pretty girl as I remember her, and the soft name just suited her--a pretty, pretty girl." "So I've often heard her say." "I've no doubt you have," he answered with twinkling eyes. "And how is my old friend keeping? I haven't seen her for some years." "Very well, indeed, General. And she's a very pretty old woman, you know." "Aye, I suppose she is. Molly'll be in her grave before she gives up her claims to be a belle." "And very witty and sharp and kind and good," I added--"sharp-sweet, like a wholesome fruit." "Oh, the very old Molly!" he chuckled. "You've just hit it off, young lady. Well, Molly and I were young together, and both handsome, though you'll laugh in your sleeve at my saying so," bending a somewhat fierce gaze upon me; "and here we are now, two lonely old hulks cast high and dry, side by side, to moulder to our last end. Ah! I remember Molly fresh as a rose in the dew. She should have had a girl of her own to be as pretty as she was!" "She has my sister Esther, General, living with her now. Esther is her god-daughter, and she's as pretty as a picture--not the least bit in the world like me," I added hastily. "Oh, indeed! I'm glad Molly's got a young girl to live with her. And your sister's very pretty, and not the least bit in the world like you. Well, well, we can't all be pretty," he said, with a humorous glint in his eyes, which, now I noticed, were quite startlingly blue for the eyes of an old man. "The Brandons are all handsome and strong except me," said I. "And you're good, I suppose?" "No, but I'm supposed to have the brains," said I. "And which would you rather have, brains or beauty?" he asked, with great gravity. "Beauty," said I, "of course. But brains are a great comfort too." "Now, I'm glad to hear you say that," he said. "I'd have distrusted you if you'd said you'd rather have brains. But how do you use them? Are you cramming that little head of yours with a lot of knowledge that'll never be any use to you--examinations, degrees, all that sort of thing?" "If I were I should be almost afraid to tell you," said I, "while you frown at me like that." "Never mind my frowns," said he. "They mean nothing. My bark's worse than my bite. See, your little dog has found that out!" I looked at Paudeen, who was sitting with a confiding paw in one of the General's palms. "Paudeen's a very wise dog," said I; "but I don't think it takes much wisdom to discover that."