opposition. She could not very well help that. He never had time
to share her little experiences, and interests, and perplexities,
and so sympathize with her as she went along, and up to the agreeing
and consenting point.

"I won't set her up with any such absurdities," said Mr. Argenter.
"It's confounded ruinous shoddy nonsense. Makes little fools of them
all. Sylvie's got airs enough now. It won't do for her to think she
can have everything the Highfords do."

"It isn't that," said Mrs. Argenter, sweetly. Her position, and the
soft "g" in her name, giving her a sense of something elegant and
gentle-bred to be always sustained and acted up to, had really
helped and strengthened Mrs. Argenter in very much of her
established amiability. We don't know, always, where our ties and
braces really are. We are graciously allowed many a little temporary
stay whose hold cannot be quite directly raced to the everlasting
foundations.

"It isn't _that_; I don't care for the Highfords, particularly.
Though I do like to have Sylvie enjoy things as she sees them
enjoyed all around her, in her own circle. But it's the convenience;
and then, it's a real means of showing kindness. She can so often
ask other girls, you know, to drive with her; girls who haven't
pony-chaises."

"_Showing_ kindness, yes; you've just hit it there. But it isn't
always _fun to the frogs_, Mrs. A.!"

Now if Mrs. Argenter disliked one thing more than another, that her
husband ever did, it was his calling her "Mrs. A.;" and I am very
much afraid, I was going to say, that he knew it; but of course he
did when she had mildly told him so, over and over,--I am afraid he
_recollected_ it, at this very moment, and others similar.

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Argenter," she said, with some
quiet coldness.

"I mean, I know how she takes _other_ girls to ride; she _sets them
down at the small gray house,--the house without any piazza or bay
window, Michael_!" and Mr. Argenter laughed. That was the order he
had heard Sylvie give one day when he had come up with his own
carriage at the post-office in the village, whither he had walked
over for exercise and the evening papers. Sylvie had Aggie Townsend
with her, and she put her head out at the window on one side just as
her father passed on the other, and directed Michael, with a very
elegant nonchalance, to "set this little girl down" as aforesaid.
Mr. Argenter had been half amused and half angry. The anger pa