she said 'I'm sorry the girls from the country have
departed, and that they found us so disagreeable that they had to do
it unbeknown and quiet, for it was a real pleasure for ancient females
like ourselves to have young and bonny creatures about us.'

"Miss Slowcum got very stiff at this, for she apes youth, my dear, in
a way that's past belief, and Mrs. Mortlock had her little fling on
purpose. Well, dear, and how are you? You look thin to what you were,
and a bit pale. How is that pretty little sister of yours who wanted
the cheap lodgings, that was to be so clean you might eat on the
floor?"

"We are all fairly well, Mrs. Dredge," replied Primrose, when she
could edge in a word--for Mrs. Dredge was extremely voluble--"we are
fairly well, only Daisy has been suffering from cold. We have got
clean rooms too, thank you, Mrs. Dredge."

"Well now, dear, I'm glad to hear it; that pretty child amused me when
she spoke of cheapness and cleanliness going hand in hand. Bless her
little heart! little she knew.

"We have learned a great many things we knew nothing about six months
ago Mrs. Dredge," answered Primrose, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Yes, I am very glad to see you again--please, remember me to all the
ladies at Penelope Mansion."

"Oh, my dear, they'll be glad to hear I met you--even Miss Slowcum
will, though she's a little bitter on the subject of age; and as to
that poor Sarah Maria, or Sarah Martha--I forget which she is, only I
know she's Sarah, with something tacked to the end of it--why, she'll
be fairly skipping with delight. That poor girl, she just worships the
ground you three young ladies walk on."

"Oh, do give our dear love to Poppy," said Primrose tears springing to
her eyes.

Those sudden tears did not escape the notice of fat, good-humored Mrs.
Dredge.

"I hope you're getting on comfortably in every way, dear," she said,
"money matters and all. I had sore worries myself in the money line
until poor Dredge made his fortune in the chandlery business. My dear,
I was almost forgetting to tell you that we've had an affliction at
the Mansion."

"I'm very sorry," began Primrose.

"Yes, dear, and it's an affliction which is likely to continue, and to
grow heavier. It's poor Mrs. Mortlock, dear--I'm afraid she's losing
her sight, and very troublesome she'll be, and a worry to us all when
it's gone, for poor woman, she has a passion for politics that's
almost past bearing. Miss Slowcum and