h the other, she threw the doll from her. Fortunately,
the doll was not hurt; but the insult to her cherished darling had
grieved Daisy more deeply than did the injury to herself. She had
heroically refrained from crying out, or making any complaint, lest
Johnny should be moved to espouse her cause, and avenge it on Matty;
but it had gone to her heart, and to Allie's as well, that, after such
forbearance, neither Bessie nor I should have noticed her plight.
However, we made up for it now by an outburst of indignation and
resentment, especially violent on my part; whereupon, the sage Allie
turned my own moral lecture, so lately delivered, upon myself,
recalling my exhortations to the effect that we should be patient and
forgiving with one so sorely afflicted as Matty Blair.

When we reached cousin Serena's, a little arnica and some French
bonbons healed Daisy's wounds, both mental and physical; but when
happiness and peace were once more restored, and she was seated upon
Miss Craven's lap, with Allie beside her, and the box of chocolates
between them, cousin Serena herself was discovered to be in a state of
no small flutter and excitement.

"My dears," she said, "have you seen the 'Morning Bugle' of to-day?"

"No," I said, emphatically. "Father would not allow that paper to come
into our house."

"Nor would my father," said Bessie.

"He says it is a scandalous sheet," I added. "He would not have it if
there were not another newspaper in the city."

"Nor would I in my own house," said Miss Craven; "but," apologetically,
"when one is in a boarding-house, my loves, you know one cannot control
other people."

"I should think not," said Bessie. "It would be hard, indeed, if you
were held responsible for the morals, or the literary tastes, of Mrs.
Dutton's other boarders."

"But you dearest of Serenas," I said, "you know you need not read the
'Morning Bugle' because some of the other people in the house take it.
O Serena, Serena," reproachfully, "I thought better things of you! That
_you_ should allow your mind and morals to be poisoned in that way!"

"My dear Amy! My dear children!" exclaimed the dear, matter-of-fact old
lady, who never knew when she was being teased, which made it all the
more delightful to tease her. "My dear loves, you do not think I read
that scandalous sheet! Why, this morning I should have said that
nothing would induce me to touch it; but when Mrs. Dutton came up with
the paper in her hand,