as they remembered it. "Did you like his nose?"
asked Irene timorously.

"Ah, now you're COMING to something," said Penelope.
"I don't know whether, if I had so much of a nose,
I should want it all Roman."

"I don't see how you can expect to have a nose part
one kind and part another," argued Irene.

"Oh, I do. Look at mine!" She turned aside her face,
so as to get a three-quarters view of her nose in the glass,
and crossing her hands, with the brush in one of them,
before her, regarded it judicially. "Now, my nose
started Grecian, but changed its mind before it got over
the bridge, and concluded to be snub the rest of the way."

"You've got a very pretty nose, Pen," said Irene,
joining in the contemplation of its reflex in the glass.

"Don't say that in hopes of getting me to compliment HIS,
Mrs."--she stopped, and then added deliberately--"C.!"

Irene also had her hair-brush in her hand, and now
she sprang at her sister and beat her very softly on
the shoulder with the flat of it. "You mean thing!"
she cried, between her shut teeth, blushing hotly.

"Well, D., then," said Penelope. "You've nothing to say
against D.? Though I think C. is just as nice an initial."