"Oh, Jean," said Mrs. Leighton, "I’ve asked you so often not to do that." "Sorry, mummy," said Jean, disengaging the ends abruptly. Mrs. Leighton sat down rather heavily on a chair. "You didn’t say you were sorry for being spiteful," she remarked gravely. "Well, mummy, are we spiteful, that’s the question?" Elma sat on a bed, looking specially tragic. "It’s _awful_ to be left out of things now by Mabel," she said. Betty looked as though she meant to cry. "Well, I never," said Mrs. Leighton. "You must take your turn. You don’t come wherever your father and I go, or Cuthbert. You know you don’t." "I think that Cuthbert might occasionally take us, however," said Jean. "We all went to the flower show last year," wailed Elma. "Yes, with the parasols papa brought us from London," said Betty. "And Mabel said it was like carrying four bassinettes in a row, and snapped hers down and wouldn’t put it up till she got separated from us." "She was growing up even then," said Jean in a melancholy manner. "Come, come, girls," interrupted Mrs. Leighton. "You may be just the same when you grow up. I won’t allow you to be down on poor Mabel. Especially when she isn’t here to speak for herself." "When we grow up there will always be one less to tyrannize over," said Jean. "Honestly, mother, I never would have thought that Mabel could be so priggish. Do you know why she wouldn’t have us? I’m too big and gawky, and Elma is always saying silly things, and Betty is just a baby. There you are." "Well, it isn’t very nice of Mabel, but you mustn’t believe she means that," said Mrs. Leighton. "And after all, Mabel must have her little day. She was very good, let me tell you, very sweet and nice when you were babies and she just a little thing. She nursed you, Elma and Betty, often and often, and put you to sleep when your own nurse couldn’t, and she has looked after you all more or less ever since. You might let her grow up without being worried." "It’s hateful to be called a nuisance," said Jean, somewhat mollified. "Why do you waste time over it, I wonder," said Mrs. Leighton. "Instead of moping Jean might be golfing, and Elma and Betty having tea at Miss Annie’s; with nobody at all being nice to your poor old mother." It dawned on them how selfish they might all be. "Oh, mummy," cried three reproachful voices. "Well, Elma likes Miss Grace much better than she does me, and Betty likes her rabbits, and Jean despises me because I don’t play golf. I lead a very lonely life," said Mrs. Leighton. "Oh, mummy!" "My idea, when I came into your room," said Mrs. Leighton, "was to propose that we might walk into town and get Jean’s new hat, and take tea at Crowther’s, and drive home if my poor old leg won’t hold out for walking both ways. But we’ve wasted so much time in talking about Mabel----" "Oh, mummy--Your bonnet, your veil, and your gloves, and do be quick, mummy," cried Elma. "We’re very sorry about Mabel."