istening to us all the while we have been talking? I
don't think it is quite fair to do that."

"Don't you, indeed! I happened to be reading in my armchair, when you
came and planted your chairs immediately outside. I was the first-
comer, you observe, not yourselves, and I cannot say I was interested
enough to listen to your conversation until my attention was attracted
by the description of myself. I presume the very descriptive title was
originally your invention?"

He planted his stick on the ground, and stared fixedly in Mollie's face.
The grey eyes fell before his, and she answered hesitatingly--

"I'm--I'm afraid it was."

"And do you think it was good manners to write in such a way of your
host?"

"No, I don't; I think it was hateful. But--"

"But?"

Mollie took a step forward, and laid a timid hand on his arm.

"But, in a sort of way, it is true. You shut yourself up, and you do
growl, and even when you are kind, you pretend to be cross. We have
tried and tried to be friends with you, but you won't let us. We have
said over and over again that we felt as if we were living in an hotel,
and it has been a trouble to us all. I don't wonder you feel angry; but
don't you think you are a wee bit in the wrong yourself?"

Mr Farrell stared down at the eager face, the wide grey eyes, the
little hand upon his arm, then deliberately drew himself away, saying
coldly--

"You would make a good lawyer, my dear. You have a clever trick of
evading an awkward question, and shifting the blame from your own
shoulders. You will excuse me if I say that I can scarcely consent to
discuss my own conduct with a girl of your years. The point I mentioned
was your own conduct in writing disrespectfully of your host."

"I know, and I've said already that it was horrid; but it was not so
horrid as you think. Trix is my sister, and we all have a habit of
exaggerating and using stronger terms than we really mean. We have a
habit of giving nicknames, too. They are not complimentary as a rule,
but we don't mean to be unkind. If you read some of Trix's other
letters, you would see that we have not been altogether ungrateful.
Will you read them? I have them all upstairs, and could bring them down
in a moment."

"You are very good. Judging from the specimen I have heard, I think I
would rather decline the honour."

"Yes; but you ought not to decline! It isn't a question of enjoyment;
it's a question of justice to