"She's the ugliest old baboon that ever grinned!" was Molly's complimentary reply. "What say you, Mrs Gatty?" "She is certainly not handsome," answered Gatty, apparently with some reluctance; "but I have heard her well spoken of, as very kind and good." "Have you met with Mr Welles, her nephew, my dear?" Molly had clasped her hands, leaned back, lifted her eyes with an expression of sentimental rapture, and was executing an effective _tableau vivant_. "Yes, I have seen him two or three times," said Gatty. "Is he a young man of an agreeable turn?" inquired Madam. "He is very handsome," replied Gatty, rather doubtfully, as if she hardly knew what to say. "Pleasant as a companion?" pursued Madam. "People generally think so, I believe," answered Gatty, with studied vagueness. "You dear old concatenation, you'll get nothing out of my wretch of a sister," impetuously cried Molly. "I'll tell you all about Marcus. He's the brightest eyes that ever shone, and the sweetest voice that praised your fine eyes, and the most delightful manners! White hands, and a capital leg, and never treads on your corns. Oh, there's nobody like him. I mean to marry him." "Molly!" said Gatty. It was the first time she had offered anything like a reproof to her sister. "Now, you hold your tongue, Mrs Prude!" responded Molly. "You're not a bit better than I am." Gatty made no reply. "Don't you set up to be either a prig or a saint!" continued Molly, angrily. "Betty's enough. She isn't a saint; but she's a prig. If ever you're either, I'll lead you a life!" And there could be little doubt of Molly's fulfilling her threat. The next day, Gatty and Molly Delawarr went home. Betty had quite recovered, and was gone to stay with a friend near Bristol; the house had been thoroughly disinfected, and was pronounced free from all danger; and Lady Delawarr thought there was no longer need for the girls to remain away. "I wonder what will become of me without you, Molly!" said Rhoda, dolefully. "Oh, you'll have plenty to do, old Gatepost," observed Molly, apparently in allusion to Rhoda's uneventful life. "You've got to fall in love with Marcus. I'll cut you into slices if you do, and make buttered toast of you." "Good-bye!" said Rhoda laughing. "_Vale_!" responded Molly. "Good-bye, dear little Phoebe!" was Gatty's farewell. "I wonder what would have become of me if I had not met you and Mrs Dorothy. For I have asked Him to be my Friend,--you know,--and I think, I _think_ He will." "I am sure of it. Good-bye." And so Gatty and Molly passed out of the life at White-Ladies.