to bring up a big boy."

"I don't think Giff is unmannerly," cried Lois.

"Well, not exactly," Mrs. Dale admitted; "but of course he isn't like Mr.
Forsythe. Gifford hasn't had the opportunities, or the money, you know."

"I don't think money is of much importance," said Lois. "I don't think
money has anything to do with manners."

"Oh, you don't know anything about it!" cried Mrs. Dale. "There! you made
me make a mistake, and lose my game. Pray do not be silly, Lois, and talk
in that emphatic way; have a little more repose. I mean this young man
is--he is very different from anybody you have ever seen in Ashurst. But
there is no use trying to tell you anything; you always keep your own
opinion. You are exactly like a bag of feathers. You punch it and think
you've made an impression, and it comes out just where it went in."

Lois laughed, and rose to go.

"Tell your father what I said about a winter in town," Mrs. Dale called
after her; and then, gathering her cards up, and rapping them on the
table to get the edges straight, she said to herself, "But perhaps it
won't be necessary to have a winter in town!" And there was a grim sort
of smile on her face when, a moment later, Mr. Dale, in a hesitating way,
pushed the door open, and entered.

"I thought I heard Lois's voice, my dear," he said, with a deprecating
expression.