"Sit here, won't you?" said Mrs. Meredith, and she even pushed gently forward the most luxurious chair within her reach. To Pansy it seemed large enough to hold all the children. At home she was used to chairs that were not only small, but hard. Wherever the bottom of a chair seemed to be in that household, there it was--if it was anywhere. Actuated now by this lifelong faith in literal furniture, she sat down with the utmost determination where she was bid; but the bottom offered no resistance to her descending weight and she sank. She threw out her hands and her hat tilted over her eyes. It seemed to her that she was enclosed up to her neck in what might have been a large morocco bath-tub--which came to an end at her knees. She pushed back her hat, crimson. "That was a surprise," she said, frankly admitting the fault, "but there'll never be another such." "I am afraid you found it warm walking, Pansy," said Mrs. Meredith, opening her fan and handing it to her. "Oh, no, Mrs. Meredith, I never fan!" said Pansy, declining breathlessly. "I have too much use for my hands. I'd rather suffer and do something else. Besides, you know I am used to walking in the sun. I am very fond of botany, and I am out of doors for hours at a time when I can find the chance." Mrs. Meredith was delighted at the opportunity to make easy vague comment on a harmless subject. "What a beautiful study it must be," she said with authority. "Must be!" exclaimed Pansy; "why, Mrs. Meredith, don't you _know_? Don't you understand botany?" Pansy had an idea that in Dent's home botany was as familiarly apprehended as peas and turnips in hers. "I am afraid not," replied Mrs. Meredith, a little coolly. Her mission had been to adorn and people the earth, not to study it. And among persons of her acquaintance it was the prime duty of each not to lay bare the others' ignorance, but to make a little knowledge appear as great as possible. It was discomfiting to have Pansy charge upon what after all was only a vacant spot in her mind. She added, as defensively intimating that the subject had another dangerous side: "When I was a girl, young ladies at school did not learn much botany; but they paid a great deal of attention to their manners." "Why did not they learn it after they had left school and after they had learned manners?" inquired Pansy, with ruthless enthusiasm. "It is such a mistake to stop learning everything simply because you have stopped school. Don't you think so?" "When a girl marries, my dear, she soon has other studies to take up. She has a house and husband. The girls of my day, I am afraid, gave up their botanies for their duties: it may be different now." "No matter how many children I may have," said Pansy, positively, "I shall never--give--up--botany! Besides, you know, Mrs. Meredith, that we study botany only during the summer months, and I do hope--" she broke off suddenly.