"What is this?" said the lady in astonishment.

"What you see--" said Mr. Randolph.

"Where did it come from?"

"The signature tells you."

"But where did you get it?"

"Here--this moment."

"The impertinent little minx!"

"Hush. She does not mean to be impertinent, Felicia."

"Do you like misbehaviour that is not meant, Mr. Randolph?"

"Better than that which _is_ meant."

"I told you the child would get ruined in that place," said Mrs.
Randolph, after musing a few minutes over the little sheet of
note-paper.

Mr. Randolph made a lather and applied it. That might be the reason why
he made no answer.

"I call it impertinence," the lady went on, "and very well grown
impertinence too--from a child like that! It is the trick of all
religious people, to think themselves better and wiser than the rest of