ng you a new hat." I pressed the two coins into her
palm.

She looked at them, and said, "You can't get a hat for a halfpenny, you
know, dear. What did you rush out for just now? And why did you have
these two farthings gilded? You'll be mistaking them for sovereigns, if
you're not careful. Were you trying to take me in?"

I did not quite see what to say for the moment, and so I took her
suggestion. I explained that it was a joke.

"You don't look much as if you were joking."

"But I was. I suppose I ought to know if any man does. However, Eliza,
if you want a new hat, anything up to half a sovereign, you've only to
say it."

She said it, thanked me, and asked me to come and help her water the
_spiraea_.

"It's such a shapely _spiraea_," she said.

"Yes," I answered sadly, "it's a regular plant." And so it was, though
I had not been intending what the French call a _double entendre_ at
the time.

THE MOPWORTHS

I must say that both Eliza and myself felt a good deal of contempt for
the Mopworths. We had known them for three years, and that gave us a
claim; Peter Mopworth was a connection of Eliza's by marriage, and that
also gave us a claim; further, our social position gave us a claim.
Nevertheless, the Mopworths were to have their annual party on the
following Wednesday, and they had not invited us.

"Upon my soul," I exclaimed, "I never in my life heard of anything so
absolutely paltry."

"I can't think why it is," said Eliza.

"Oh, we're not good enough for them. We all know who his father was,
and we all know what he is--a petty provincial shopkeeper! A gentleman
holding important employment in one of the principal mercantile firms
in the city isn't good enough for him. If I'm permitted to clean his
boots I'm sure I ought to be thankful. Oh, yes! Of course! No doubt!"

"You do get so sarcastic," observed Eliza.

"That's nothing--nothing to what I should be if I let myself go. But I
don't choose to let myself go. I don't think he's worth it, and I don't
think she's worth it either. It's a pity, perhaps, that they don't know
that they're making themselves ridiculous, but it can't be helped.
Personally, I sha'n't give the thing another thought."

"That's the best thing to do," said Eliza.

"Of course it is. Why trouble one's head about people of that class?
And, I say, Eliza, if you meet that Mopworth woman in the street,
there's no occasion for you to recognize her."

"That would look as