ed up, with
a thousand a year more, that will suit me better."

"Indeed! I thank you!" said Rhoda, with a little toss of her head.

"My dear Mrs Molly, you are so diverting," smiled Madam.

"You don't say so!" rejoined that fascinating young person. "You'll put
on your Sunday bombazine, Rhoda. We're all going to be as fine as
fiddlers. As for you"--and Molly's bold eyes surveyed Phoebe, seeming
to take in the whole at a glance--"it won't matter. You aren't an
heiress, so you can come in rags."

Phoebe said nothing.

"I don't think," went on Molly, in a reflective tone, "that you can make
a catch; but you can try. There is the chaplain--horrid old centipede!
And there's old Walford"--Molly never favoured any man with a Mr to his
name--"an ugly, spiteful old bear that nobody'll have: he's rich enough;
and he might look your way if you play your cards well. Any way, you'll
not have much chance else; so you'd better keep your eyes pretty well
open. Now, Rhoda, come along, and we'll have some fun."

And away went Molly and Rhoda, with a smiling assent from Madam.

What a very repulsive, vulgar disagreeable girl this Molly Delawarr is!
True, my gentle reader. And yet--does she do much more than say, in
plain language, what a great number of Mollys are not ashamed to think?

Phoebe's sensations, in view of the coming visit to the Court, were far
removed from pleasure. Must she go? She braced up her courage, and
ventured to ask.

"If you please, Madam--"

"Well, child?" was the answer, in a sufficiently gracious tone to
encourage Phoebe to proceed.

"Must I go with Mrs Rhoda to Delawarr Court, if you please, Madam?"

"Why, of course, child." Madam's tone expressed surprise, though not
displeasure.

Phoebe swallowed her regret with a sigh, and tried to comfort herself
with the thought of meeting Gatty, which was the only bright spot in the
darkness. But would Gatty be there?

Rhoda and Molly came in to tea arm-in-arm.

"And how has my Lady Delawarr her health, Mrs Molly?" inquired Madam,
as she poured out the refreshing fluid.

Molly had allowed no time for inquiries on her first appearance.

"Oh, _she's_ well enough," said Molly, carelessly.

"And Mrs Betty is now fully recovered of her distemper?"

"She's come out of the small-pox, and tumbled into the vapours," said
Molly.

"The vapours" was a most convenient term of that day. It covered
everything which had no other name, from a pain in