'Don't argue with _me_, miss! If I had known the stones were wretched tawdry imitations, do you imagine for an instant----?' 'Now, mother,' said Dick, 'be fair--they were uncommonly good imitations, you must admit that!' 'Indeed, indeed I thought they were real, the fairy never told me!' 'After all,' said Dick, 'it's not Priscilla's fault. She can't help it if the stones aren't real, and she made up for quality by quantity anyhow; didn't you, Prissie?' 'Hold your tongue, Richard; she _could_ help it, she knew it all the time, and she's a hateful, sanctimonious little stuck-up viper, and so I tell her to her face!' Priscilla could scarcely believe that kind, indulgent, smooth-spoken Aunt Margarine could be addressing such words to her; it frightened her so much that she did not dare to answer, and just then Cathie and Belle came into the room. 'Oh, mother,' they began penitently, 'we're _so_ sorry, but we couldn't find dear Prissie anywhere, so we haven't picked up anything the whole afternoon!' 'Ah, my poor darlings, you shall never be your cousin's slaves any more. Don't go near her, she's a naughty, deceitful wretch; her jewels are false, my sweet loves, false! She has imposed upon us all, she does not deserve to associate with you!' 'I always said Prissie's jewels looked like the things you get on crackers!' said Belle, tossing her head. 'Now we shall have a little rest, I hope,' chimed in Cathie. 'I shall send her home to her parents this very night,' declared Aunt Margarine; 'she shall not stay here to pervert our happy household with her miserable _gewgaws_!' Here Priscilla found her tongue. 'Do you think I _want_ to stay?' she said proudly; 'I see now that you only wanted to have me here because--because of the horrid jewels, and I never knew they were false, and I let you have them all, every one, you know I did; and I wanted you to mind what I said and not trouble about picking them up, but you _would_ do it! And now you all turn round upon me like this! What have I done to be treated so? What have I done?' 'Bravo, Prissie!' cried Dick. 'Mother, if you ask me, I think it serves us all jolly well right, and it's a downright shame to bullyrag poor Prissie in this way!' 'I _don't_ ask you,' retorted his mother, sharply; 'so you will kindly keep your opinions to yourself.' 'Tra-la-la!' sang rude Dick, 'we are a united family--we are, we are, we _are_!'--a vulgar refrain he had picked up at one of the burlesque theatres he was only too fond of frequenting. But Priscilla came to him and held out her hand quite gratefully and humbly. 'Thank you, Dick,' she said; '_you_ are kind, at all events. And I am sorry you couldn't have your horse-shoe pin!' 'Oh, _hang_ the horse-shoe pin!' exclaimed Dick, and poor Priscilla was so thoroughly cast down that she quite forgot to reprove him.