"Prosper de Lastre," replied Ralph. "He's an awful good fellow every
way."

"Prosper de Lastre!" repeated Molly, who possessed among other
peculiarities that of a sometimes most inconveniently good memory.
"Prosper de Lastre! I do believe, Ralph, that's the very boy you
called a cad when you first went to school."

Ralph's face got very red, and he seemed on the verge of a hasty reply.
But he controlled himself.

"Well, and if I did," he said somewhat gruffly, "a fellow may be
mistaken, mayn't he? I don't think him a cad _now_, and that's all about
it."

Molly was preparing some rejoinder when grandmother interrupted her.

"You are quite right, Ralph, _quite_ right not to be above owning
yourself mistaken. Who _can_ be above it really? not the wisest man that
ever lived. And Molly, my dear little girl, why can you not learn to be
more considerate? Do you know what 'tact' is, Molly? Did you ever hear of
it?"

"Oh yes, grandmother dear," said Molly serenely. "It means--it means--oh
I don't quite know, but I'm sure I do know."

"Think of it as meaning the not saying or doing to another person
whatever in that other's place you would not like said or done to
you--that is _one_ meaning of tact anyway, and a very good one. Will
you try to remember it, Molly?"

Molly opened her eyes.

"Yes, grandmother dear, I will try. But I _think_ all that will be rather
hard to remember, because you see people don't feel the same. My head
isn't twisty-turny enough to understand things like that, quickly. I like
better to go bump at them, quite straight."

"Without, in nine cases out of ten, the faintest idea what you are going
to go bump straight at," said aunty, laughing. "Oh, Molly, you are
irresistible!"

The laughing at her had laughed back Ralph's good humour anyway, and now
he returned to the charge.

"Twisty-turny is like a corkscrew, grandmother," he said slyly, "and once
there was an old house with a corkscrew stair----"

"Yes," said grandmother, "and in that old house there once lived an old
lady, who, strange to say, was not always old. She was not very old at
the time of the 'adventure.' You remember, children, my telling you that
during her husband's life, my grandmother and he used to spend part of
the winter in the old house where she afterwards ended her days. My
grandfather used to drive backwards and forwards to his farms, of which
he had several in the neighbourhood, and the town was a sort of central