s possible; but Phillis, who had rallied from her
momentary discomfiture, was not to be again worsted.

"Dulce, you talk like a child; you are really a very silly little
thing. Do you think any work can degrade us or that we shall not be as
much gentlewomen at Hadleigh as we are here?"

"But the parcels?" persisted Dulce.

"I do not intend to carry any," was the imperturbable reply, "Dorothy
will do that; or we will hire a boy. As for waiting in halls, I don't
think any one will ask me to do that, as I should desire to be shown
into a room at once; and as for Mrs. Squails, if the poor old woman
honors me with her custom, I will turn her out a gown that shall be
the envy of Hadleigh."

Dulce did not answer this, but the droop of her lip was piteous; it
melted Phillis at once.

"Oh, do cheer up, you silly girl!" she said, with a coaxing face.
"What is the good of making ourselves more miserable than we need? If
you prefer the two little rooms with mother, say so; and Nan and I
will look out for old ladies at once."

"No! no! Oh, pray don't leave me!" still more piteously.

"Well, what will you have us do? we cannot starve; and we don't mean
to beg. Pluck up a little spirit, Dulce; see how good Nan is! You have
no idea how comfortable we should be!" she went on, with judicious
word-painting. "We should all be together,--that is the great thing.
Then we could talk over our work; and in the afternoon, when we felt
dreary, mother could read some interesting novel to us,"--a tremulous
sigh from Nan at this point.

What a contrast to the afternoons at Glen Cottage,--tennis, and
five-o'clock tea, and the company of their young friends! Phillis
understood the sigh, and hurried on.

"It will not be always work. We will have long country walks in the
evening; and then, there will be the garden and the sea-shore. Of
course we must have exercise and recreation, I am afraid we shall have
to do without society, for no one will visit ladies under such
circumstances; but I would rather do without people than without each
other, and so would Nan."

"Yes, indeed!" broke in Nan; and now the tears were in her eyes.

Dulce grew suddenly ashamed of herself. She got up in a little flurry,
and kissed them both.

"I was very naughty; but I did not mean to be unkind. I would rather
carry parcels, and stand in halls,--yes, and even make gowns for Mrs.
Squails,--than lose you both. I will be good. I will not worry you any
more, Phil,