presented nothing more than
periodical boredom in the shape of occasional calls, usually made
unexpectedly, when the house was at its worst, and nobody was especially
tidy,--calls invariably enlivened by severe comments upon the evil
propensities of poor relations in general, and the shocking lack of
respectability in this branch of the order in particular. Worldly wisdom
was not a family trait, Dolly's half-whimsical assumption of it being
the only symptom of the existence of such a gift, and Mollie was the
most sublimely thoughtless of the lot. Mrs. Phil had never been guilty
of a discreet act in her life. Phil himself regarded consequences less
than he regarded anything else, and Aimee's childish staidness and
forethought had certainly not an atom of worldliness in it. Accordingly,
Dolly was left to battle with society, and now and then, it must be
admitted, the result of her brisk affrays did her no small credit.

For a very short space of time the merino was being disposed of to an
advantage; Dolly seating herself in her chair again to renovate the
skirt; Aimee unpicking the bodice, and Mollie looking on with occasional
comments.

"Here is Griffith," she said, at last, glancing over her shoulder at
a figure passing the window; and the next minute the door was opened
without ceremony, and "Grif" made his appearance upon the scene.

Being called upon to describe Griffith Donne, one would hardly feel
inclined to describe him as being imposing in personal appearance. He
was a thin, undersized young man, rather out at elbows and shabby of
attire, and with a decided air of Bohemia about him; but his youthful
face was singularly pleasing and innocent, and his long-lashed,
brown-black eyes were more than good-looking,--they were absolutely
beautiful in a soft, pathetic way,--beautiful as the eyes of the
loveliest of women.

He came into the room as if he was used to coming into it in an
every-day fashion; and Dolly, looking up, gave him a smile and a nod.

"Ah, you are all here, are you?" he said. "What is on hand now? What is
all this white stuff for?" And he drew a chair up close by Dolly's side,
and lifted the merino in his hand.

"For Friday night," answered Aimee. "Bilberry's again, Griffith. Coffee
and conversation this time."

Griffith looked at Dolly inquiringly, but Dolly only laughed and
shrugged her plump shoulders wickedly.

"Look here," he said, with a disapproving air, "it ain't true, is it,
Dolly?