ond of her table linen, and has it in beautiful
patterns. Then silver is always handsome. Then sometimes there is a
most superb centre-piece to the table; a magnificent tall thing of
silver--I don't know what to call it; not a vase, and not a dish; but
high, and with different bowls or shells filled with flowers and fruit.
Why the mere ice-creams sometimes were in all sorts of pretty flower
and fruit forms."

"Ice-cream!" cried Madge.

"And I say, what's the use of all that?" said Charity, who had not been
baptized in character.

"The use is, its looking so very pretty," Lois answered.

"And so, I suppose you would like to have _your_ vegetables in silver
dishes? I should like to know why things are any better for looking
pretty, when all's done?"

"They are not better, I suppose," said Madge.

"I don't know _why,_ but I think they must be," said Lois, innocent of
the personal application which the other two were making. For Madge was
a very handsome girl, while Charity was hard-favoured, like her
grandmother. "It does one good to see pretty things."

"That's no better than pride," said Charity. "Things that ain't pretty
are just as useful, and more useful. That's all pride, silver dishes,
and flowers, and stuff. It just makes people stuck-up. Don't they think
themselves, all those grand folks, don't they think themselves a hitch
or two higher than Shampuashuh folks?"

"Perhaps," said Lois; "but I do not know, so I cannot say."

"O Lois," cried Madge, "are the people very nice?"

"Some of them."

"You haven't lost your heart, have you?"

"Only part of it."

"Part of it! O, to whom, Lois? Who is it?"

"Mrs. Wishart's black horses."

"Pshaw!" exclaimed Charity. "Haven't Shampuashuh folks got horses?
Don't tell me!"

"But, Lois!" pursued Madge, "who was the nicest person you saw?"

"Madge, I don't know. A good many seemed to be nice."

"Well, who was the handsomest? and who was the cleverest? and who was
the kindest to you? I don't mean Mrs. Wishart. Now answer."

"The handsomest, and the cleverest, and the kindest to me?" Lois
repeated slowly. "Well, let me see. The handsomest was a Mr. Caruthers."

"Who's he?"

"Mr. Caruthers."

"_What_ is he, then?"

"He is a gentleman, very much thought of; rich, and knows everybody;
that's about all I can tell."

"Was he the cleverest, too, that you saw?"

"No, I think not."

"Who was that?"

"Another gentleman; a Mr. Dillwyn."

"Dillun!" Madge r