y have chosen a kind--might have taken him without taking
him from them; but this generosity could not be hoped for in such a
girl as Miss Lapham.

"Perhaps," urged their mother, "it would not be so bad. She seemed an
affectionate little thing with her mother, without a great deal of
character though she was so capable about some things."

"Oh, she'll be an affectionate little thing with Tom too, you may be
sure," said Nanny. "And that characterless capability becomes the most
in tense narrow-mindedness. She'll think we were against her from the
beginning."

"She has no cause for that," Lily interposed, "and we shall not give
her any."

"Yes, we shall," retorted Nanny. "We can't help it; and if we can't,
her own ignorance would be cause enough."

"I can't feel that she's altogether ignorant," said Mrs. Corey justly.

"Of course she can read and write," admitted Nanny.

"I can't imagine what he finds to talk about with her," said Lily.

"Oh, THAT'S very simple," returned her sister.

"They talk about themselves, with occasional references to each other.
I have heard people 'going on' on the hotel piazzas. She's
embroidering, or knitting, or tatting, or something of that kind; and
he says she seems quite devoted to needlework, and she says, yes, she
has a perfect passion for it, and everybody laughs at her for it; but
she can't help it, she always was so from a child, and supposes she
always shall be,--with remote and minute particulars. And she ends by
saying that perhaps he does not like people to tat, or knit, or
embroider, or whatever. And he says, oh, yes, he does; what could make
her think such a thing? but for his part he likes boating rather
better, or if you're in the woods camping. Then she lets him take up
one corner of her work, and perhaps touch her fingers; and that
encourages him to say that he supposes nothing could induce her to drop
her work long enough to go down on the rocks, or out among the
huckleberry bushes; and she puts her head on one side, and says she
doesn't know really. And then they go, and he lies at her feet on the
rocks, or picks huckleberries and drops them in her lap, and they go on
talking about themselves, and comparing notes to see how they differ
from each other. And----"

"That will do, Nanny," said her mother.

Lily smiled autumnally. "Oh, disgusting!"

"Disgusting? Not at all!" protested her sister. "It's very amusing
when you see it, and when you do it