course, grandmother dear. Really, _really_ I mean," said Molly,
laughing at herself. "Do you see it in my eyes?"

"Yes, I think I do. You have nice honest eyes, my little girl."

Molly flushed a little with pleasure. "I thought they were rather ugly.
Ralph calls them 'cats',' and 'boiled gooseberries,'" she said. "Anyway
Sylvia's are much prettier. She has such nice long eyelashes."

"Sylvia's are very sweet," said grandmother, kissing her in turn, "and we
won't make comparisons. Both pairs of eyes will do very well my darlings,
if always

'The light within them,
Tender is and true.'

Now good night, and God bless my little grand-daughters. Ralph, you'll sit
up with me a little longer, won't you?"

"What nice funny things grandmother says, doesn't she, Sylvia?" said
Molly, as they were undressing.

"She says nice things," said Sylvia, "I don't know about they're being
funny. You call everything funny, Molly."

"Except you when you're going to bed, for then you're very often rather
cross," said Molly.

But as she was only _in fun_, Sylvia took it in good part, and, after
kissing each other good night, both little sisters fell asleep without
loss of time.

CHAPTER II.

LOST IN THE LOUVRE.

"Oh how I wish that I had lived
In the ages that are gone!"

A CHILD'S WISH.

It was--did I say so before? the children's first visit to Paris. They
had travelled a good deal, for such small people quite "a _very_ good
deal," as Molly used to maintain for the benefit of their less
experienced companions. They knew England, "of course," Ralph would say
in his lordly, big-boy fashion, Scotland too, and Wales, and they had
spent some time in Germany. But they had never been in Paris, and the
excitement on finding the journey safely past and themselves really there
was very considerable.

"And, Molly," said Sylvia, on their way from the railway station to the
hotel where rooms had been engaged for them, "remember you've _promised_
not to awake me in the middle of the night if you begin thinking about
the top of the bed coming down."

"And, oh, Sylvia! I _wish_ you hadn't reminded me of it just now," said
Molly pathetically, for which all the satisfaction she received was a
somewhat curt observation from Sylvia, that she shouldn't be so silly.

For Sylvia, though in reality the kindest of little elder sisters, was
sometimes inclined to be "short" with poor Molly. Sylvia was clever an