beg your pardon, Mr. Le Frank, for interrupting you--but it is really a
little too hard on Me. I am held responsible for the health of these
girls; I am blamed over and over again, when it is not my fault, for
irregularities in their diet--and there they are, at this moment,
chilled with ices and cloyed with cakes! What will Mrs. Gallilee say?"

"Don't tell her," Mr. Gallilee suggested.

"The girls will be thirsty for the rest of the evening," Miss Minerva
persisted; "the girls will have no appetite for the last meal before
bedtime. And their mother will ask Me what it means."

"My good creature," cried Mr. Gallilee, "don't be afraid of the girls'
appetites! Take off their hats, and give them something nice for
supper. They inherit my stomach, Miss Minerva--and they'll 'tuck in,'
as we used to say at school. Did they say so in your time, Mr. Le
Frank?"

Mrs. Gallilee's governess and vulgar expressions were anomalies never
to be reconciled, under any circumstances. Miss Minerva took off the
hats in stern silence. Even "Papa" might have seen the contempt in her
face, if she had not managed to hide it in this way, by means of the
girls.

In the silence that ensued, Mr. Le Frank had his chance of speaking,
and showed himself to be a gentleman with a happily balanced
character--a musician, with an eye to business. Using gratitude to Mr.
Gallilee as a means of persuasion, he gently pushed the interests of a
friend who was giving a concert next week. "We poor artists have our
faults, my dear sir; but we are all earnest in helping each other. My