"How do I know? Well, that's good! As if I didn't know the difference between her wanting you and him! When she wants you, it's all quiet and don't-care-much-about-it in her looks. When he ought to be there, and isn't, something comes into her eyes that makes your heart ache. I never saw it till lately; but that look is growing on her, and would more, if it wasn't for me." "Why, how can you prevent it, Lottie?" "Well, in a good many ways, Miss Hyde. One of 'em is by nice little lies that hurt nobody, but do her lots of good. I know just how he makes bouquets, and when they don't come at the right time, I run down and make up a bunch of flowers myself. I stole some pink and blue ribbons from his room to tie 'em with. Oh! it's worth while to see her eyes sparkle when I bring them in. Then I've studied his way of sending compliments and messages. Don't pretend to be a genius like you that write poetry." "Lottie!" "Oh! don't be frightened. I sha'n't bring you to disgrace about it. Made up my mind to that from the first. You needn't get mad and blush so; I ain't a genius, but I can make up stories in my head; and why not tell 'em to her? Why not, I say, when they please her? You should hear the elegant messages I bring from Mr. Lee, at least four times a day. When she gets a nice little dish for dinner, it gives her appetite to think he ordered it; but the cook knows." "But, Lottie, this is wrong." "Wrong! Well, I like that, Miss Hyde." "It isn't the truth, Lottie." "The truth! Who said it was? As if I didn't know it was lying, and glory in it!" I could hardly keep my countenance. As for arguing a moral question with Lottie, the thought was too ridiculous. She had her own ideas, and kept to them without the slightest regard to those of other people. While we were talking, Lottie had gradually edged herself out of the room, and her last speech was delivered on the platform of the terrace. Mrs. Lee's window was up, and I saw her husband enter the room with what seemed to me a reluctant step. He sat down, and opened a book, as if to read aloud. This had been his usual custom, but the last few evenings he had spent in the drawing-room. I would have taken his place, but she rejected my offer with one of those deep sighs that excite so much pity when they come from an invalid. "You talk against fibs, Miss Hyde; now what do you think of that? She never would 'a' sent for him--died first, like a lamb starving in the cold. Hist! there comes Mrs. Babylon and her private beau."