post myself, you remember, as I wasn't sure how many
stamps to put on for Cairo."

Sylvia looked at Molly, Molly looked at Sylvia. Neither dared look at
grandmother. Both grew very red. At last,

"I am _so_ sorry, grandmother dear."

"I am _so_ sorry, dear grandmother."

"We are both _so_ sorry; we _quite_ forgot we were to write them this
morning."

Grandmother looked at them both with a somewhat curious expression.

"You both forgot?" she said. "Have you so much to do, my dear little
girls, that you haven't room in your minds to remember even this one
thing?"

"No, grandmother, it isn't that. I should have remembered," said Sylvia
in a low voice.

"I don't know, grandmother dear," replied Molly, briskly. "My mind does
seem very full. I don't know how it is, I'm sure."

Grandmother quietly opened a drawer in a chest of drawers near to
which she was standing. It was very neat. The different articles it
contained were arranged in little heaps; there were a good many things
in it--gloves, scarfs, handkerchiefs, ribbons, collars, but there seemed
plenty of room for all.

"Whose drawer is this?" she asked.

[Illustration: 'WHOSE DRAWER IS THIS?']

"Mine," said Sylvia.

"Sylvia's," answered Molly in the same breath, but growing very red as
she saw grandmother's hand and eyes turning in the direction of the
neighbour drawer to the one she had opened.

"I am so sorry, grandmother dear," she exclaimed; "I wish you wouldn't
look at mine to-day. I was going to put it tidy, but I hadn't time."

It was too late. Grandmother had already opened the drawer. Ah, dear!
what a revelation! Gloves, handkerchiefs, scarfs, ribbons, collars;
collars ribbons, scarfs, handkerchiefs, gloves, in a sort of _pot-pourri_
all together, or as if waiting to be beaten up into some wonderful new
kind of pudding! Molly grew redder and redder.

"Dear me!" said grandmother. "This is your drawer, I suppose, Molly. How
is it it is so much smaller than Sylvia's?"

"It isn't, grandmother dear," said Molly, rather surprised at the turn of
the conversation. "It is just the same size exactly."

"Then how is it you have so many more things to keep in it than Sylvia?"

"I haven't, grandmother dear," said Molly. "We have just exactly the same
of everything."

"And yet yours looks crowded to the last degree--far too full--and in
hers there seems plenty of room for everything."

"Because, grandmother dear," said Molly, opening wide her eyes,