lee.
Their bones are scattered--"

She paused with an expressive gesture.

"The best of it is,--you will admit that this is neat, Fluffy, even if
your slavery to the virtues compels your disapproval,--the best of it
is, the bandbox is the property of our Puggy."

"Miss Pugsley's bandbox! Oh, Grace!"

"Precisely! Our Puggy goes heavily without it, I am told. What would
you? It was outside her door, while sweeping was going on; one is human,
after all. She was out, with the best bonnet on her head. Poor head!
Poor bonnet! My hearty commiseration for both! When she returned, no
bandbox! At present she harries the domestics; she hasn't thought of me
yet, for a wonder. To-morrow, or the day after, I shall finish the
pies--alas! Then I return the repository, and her bonnet acquires a
fine, full, fruity flavour that annihilation alone can remove.

"You may break, you may shatter
The tile if you will,
But the scent of the brandy
Will cling round it still."

"Grace! What a diabolical plot! and you have been lying awake, I
suppose, chuckling over this!"

Miss Wolfe waved her hand in deprecation. "Not lying awake, sweet one!
Too slight a thing for that; still, it served to amuse. One must live,
even you will admit that. What's this? Greek? Give it me!" She stretched
out her hand for the book, but Bertha held it fast.

"No! no, Goat; I want it myself, and besides, you have no business here,
you know you haven't."

"No; and you?" replied the other, coolly.

"I have permission; my lamp is out of order, and I asked Miss Russell if
I might study in here," said Bertha. "But you will get into trouble if
you stay, Grace, you know you will. Be good now, and go home!"

Grace Wolfe gazed pensively at her.

"You would check the interchange of souls?" she said. "I feel drawn to
this Innocent, Fluff! I feel that she may have an influence over me for
good. You would not part us? Could'st love a Goat, Innocent?" she
added, turning to Peggy, and fixing her eyes on her with mournful
intensity.

Peggy blushed, but before she could reply Bertha struck in decidedly.

"Grace, just one word! Peggy Montfort is a stranger, and I am not going
to let her get into trouble if I can help it. And I don't want you to
get into trouble, either!" she added, more gently. "You know, my dear--"

She stopped suddenly, for Grace Wolfe threw up her hand with a warning
gesture; then, with a single swift m