Of what they were talking at last I became utterly oblivious. They had ignored me, going into realms of muslin, questions of maid-servants, female rights, and cheap under-clothing; and I therefore had ignored them. My mind had gone back to Mr. Horne and his garments. While they spoke of their rights, I was thinking of his wrongs; when they mentioned the price of flannel, I thought of that of broadcloth. But of a sudden my attention was arrested. Miss Macmanus had said something of the black silks of Antwerp, when Miss Grogram replied that she had just returned from that city and had there enjoyed a great success. My cousin had again asked something about the black silks, thinking, no doubt, that Miss Grogram had achieved some bargain, but that lady had soon undeceived her. “Oh no,” said Miss Grogram, “it was at the castle. We got such beautiful relics of General Chassé! Didn’t we, Mrs. Jones?” “Indeed we did,” said Mrs. Jones, bringing out from beneath the skirts of her dress and ostensibly displaying a large black bag. “And I’ve got such a beautiful needle-case,” said the broad-back, displaying her prize. “I’ve been making it up all the morning.” And she handed over the article to Miss Macmanus. “And only look at this duck of a pen-wiper,” simpered flaxen-hair No. 2. “Only think of wiping one’s pens with relics of General Chassé!” and she handed it over to the other Miss Macmanus. “And mine’s a pin-cushion,” said No. 1, exhibiting the trophy. “But that’s nothing to what I’ve got,” said Miss Grogram. “In the first place, there’s a pair of slippers,—a beautiful pair;—they’re not made up yet, of course; and then—” The two Misses Macmanus and their five pupils were sitting open-eared, open-eyed, and open-mouthed. How all these sombre-looking articles could be relics of General Chassé did not at first appear clear to them. “What are they, Miss Grogram?” said the elder Miss Macmanus, holding the needle-case in one hand and Mrs. Jones’s bag in the other. Miss Macmanus was a strong-minded female, and I reverenced my cousin when I saw the decided way in which she intended to put down the greedy arrogance of Miss Grogram. “They are relics.” “But where do they come from, Miss Grogram?” “Why, from the castle, to be sure;—from General Chassé’s own rooms.” “Did anybody sell them to you?” “No.” “Or give them to you?” “Why, no;—at least not exactly give.” “There they were, and she took ’em,” said the broad-back. Oh, what a look Miss Grogram gave her! “Took them! of course I took them. That is, you took them as much as I did. They were things that we found lying about.” “What things?” asked Miss Macmanus, in a peculiarly strong-minded tone.