ou said she did!"

Emmy flinched: she had forgotten the words spoken in her wild anger, and
would have been ashamed to account for them in a moment of greater
coolness.

"I mean, if she says he's a sailor, that's true. She told me he was on a
ship. I suppose she met him when she was away that time. She's been very
funny ever since. Not funny--restless. Anything I've done for her she's
made a fuss. I give her a thorough good meal; and oh! there's such a
fuss about it. 'Why don't we have ice creams, and merangs, and wine, and
grouse, and sturgeon--'"

"Ph! Silly talk!" said Alf, in contemptuous wonder. "I mean to say..."

"Oh, well: you know what flighty girls are. He's probably a swank-pot. A
steward, or something of that sort. I expect he has what's left over,
and talks big about it. But she's got ideas like that in her head, and
she thinks she's too good for the likes of us. It's too much trouble to
her to be pelite these days. I've got the fair sick of it, I can tell
you. And then she's always out..._Somebody's_ got to be at home, just to
look after Pa and keep the fire in. But Jenny--oh dear no! She's no
sooner home than she's out again. Can't rest. Says it's stuffy indoors,
and off she goes. I don't see her for hours. Well, I don't know ... but
if she doesn't quiet down a bit she'll only be making trouble for
herself later on. She can't keep house, you know! She can scrub; but she
can't cook so very well, or keep the place nice. She hasn't got the
patience. You think she's doing the dusting; and you find her groaning
about what she'd do if she was rich. 'Yes,' I tell her; 'it's all very
well to do that; but you'd far better be doing something _useful_,' I
say. 'Instead of wasting your time on idle fancies.'"

"Very sensible," agreed Alf, completely absorbed in such a discourse.

"She's trying, you know. You can't leave her for a minute. She says I'm
stodgy; but I say it's better to be practical than flighty. Don't you
think so, Alf?"

"Exackly!" said Alf, in a tone of the gravest assent. "Exackly."

vi

"I mean," pursued Emmy, "you must have a _little_ common-sense. But
she's been spoilt--she's the youngest. I'm a little older than she
is ... _wiser_, I say; but she won't have it.... And Pa's always made a
fuss of her. Really, sometimes, you'd have thought she was a boy.
Racing about! My word, such a commotion! And then going out to the
millinery, and getting among a lot of other girls. You don't know _w