you are a good little creature to come and amuse mamma when her own
lovely and amiable daughter is racing after the pomps and vanities of
this naughty world. Sit down;" and she made room on the sofa beside
herself. "Don't let such a frivolous creature as I turn you from the
post of duty."

"I did not come to stay," Sylvie answered rather stiffly.

"As if the intention were cast in adamant! Oh! why is not Fred here to
use his persuasive tongue?"

There was a peculiar laughing light in Irene's eye that annoyed Sylvie,
for it seemed to indicate a secret knowledge.

"I can stay just half an hour," was the reply in a decisive tone. "At
eleven I take my lesson in painting.-- Aunt wanted you to have these,
Mrs. Lawrence, in their first bloom of ripeness."

"They are delightful. A thousand thanks to both of you, my dear."

"And you really manage to exist in this dull place, Sylvie! You are a
miracle of content," interposed Irene.

"I have not come near dying yet," was the rather dry rejoinder.

"You need not be so curt and sharply sweet, my dear. Here I have been
listening to marvellous accounts of your amiability and devotion"--

"Don't, Rene!" implored her mother. "Sylvie _is_ good to me."

"And it might make the sweetness weak if she stretched it out to me!
Keep it intact for those who so delight in it. I am fond of spice and
high flavoring."

"These nectarines are perfect," declared Mrs. Lawrence. "One can taste
the sunshine in them."

"How poetic, mother mine! Does Fred come and read Latin verses to you
and Sylvie? I may have one"--stretching out her jewelled hand. "Oh, they
are delicious! worth coming home for, even if I had not wanted mamma's
pearls."

"And money and every thing," added her mother. "Rene, you ought not to
be so extravagant. Papa is quite depressed with the state of business."

"Yes, I have heard _that_ ever since I left my cradle;" and Rene laughed
gayly.

It suddenly crossed Sylvie's mind: what if this proud, imperious girl
should be reduced to poverty some day?

"Don't plan a conspiracy against me, Sylvie Barry! I saw it in your
eyes!"

A vivid flush overspread Sylvie's face, as if she had been caught in the
commission of some crime. Irene's laugh rang again with a peculiar
irritating sound.

"I could not form a conspiracy against you--even if I so desired. And I
must go."

Sylvie rose with a haughty air.

"Wish me worlds to conquer at least, or scalps to hang at my belt. No?