It's brickish of you to worry about me at
all; but I'll always be a fright, so what's the use? You are pretty
enough for the family, Ruth. Ella Bruce's brother watches behind the
curtains every Sunday to see you pass, and he says you are the prettiest
girl he knows, and are always so nicely dressed!"

"Poor, deluded mortal; may he be forgiven for his blindness! I'm the
shabbiest creature in the parish! It's very nice of him to watch; but I
wish he would come out from behind the curtains and let me see him. I
have not so many admirers that I can afford to have them hidden from
view. What is he like, Trix; handsome?"

"Oh, well enough! Ella thinks him a model, but he is too thin and lanky
for my taste. He is not half good enough for you, Ruth, anyway. You
ought to marry a duke, and retrieve the fortunes of the family!"

"I'm willing, my dear. Produce him, and I promise you I will not stand
in the way. I could do quite easily with being a duchess. It would be
so soothing to be called `Your Grace,' and a coronet is peculiarly
suited to my style of beauty. I won't have you for a bridesmaid,
though, if you stoop like that. Get your book, Trix, and let us set to
work. Better take advantage of my good mood while it lasts."

Trix departed obediently, and returned with a pile of books, which she
dropped upon the table with a bang, which made the other occupants of
the room start in their seats, and for the next hour the two girls
wrestled with the difficulties of an advanced Brachet exercise. Truth
to tell, Ruth was not much more expert than Trix herself; but she was
infinitely more exact, and, by dint of hunting up back rules, and making
endless references to the irregular verbs, the result achieved was
fairly correct.

It was ten o'clock. Betty and the three boys had departed to bed;
Mollie still sat gloating over her novel, with a forefinger thrust into
either ear to shut out the sound of the disturbing discussion on moods
and tenses. Trix collected her books with a sigh, and prepared to go
upstairs in her turn. She looked white and tired, and the freckles on
her nose seemed darker and more conspicuous than ever.

"Good-night, old Ruth! Thanks, most awfully! I'll do as much for you
some day."

"Good-night, young Trix! Mind you do. I shall remind you when the time
comes."

The door opened and closed; Ruth rose wearily, and laid her hand on
Mollie's shoulder. Such a charming face was lifted to m