"Well, she don't, if she says that!" calmly boning his sixth herring.

"She does too!" red with excitement; "she was there visiting when she
was a baby, and she"--

"Hush, Molly! Morton, why will you be so tantalizing? Think a minute,
dear, and tell me how many weeks there are in a year; then you'll see
what Morton means."

Molly, after an instant's calculation, saw the point, and shot a
wrathful glance across the table.

"Well," she remarked, in a judicial summing up of the matter, "you may
think you're smart, but that don't help your fare and hands from being
so greasy they're just disgusting; and I don't care, so!"

"Neither do I," said Morton, calmly attacking his seventh herring, and
his hot-headed little sister, as usual, was vanquished by his superior
coolness and precision.

This time even Miss Prue was satisfied, and entered heartily into all
the plans and arrangements for the flitting, while Morton forgot his own
disappointment in the interest of this great change.

They were in the midst of the packing, Sara, Miss Prue, and Morton, with
Molly guarding the baby, who had a savage desire to snatch at everything
and destroy it, when the elder maiden laughed out,--

"Sara, I've a scheme; you can let the house as a summer cottage, instead