sister's indulgence. Was it in connection with their bright
attractive looks that the thought flitted through her head, 'I
wonder what the young man will be like?'

'Oh, by the way,' said Rose presently, 'I had nearly forgotten Mrs.
Thornburgh's two messages. I informed her, Agnes, that you had
given up water color and meant to try oils, and she told me to
implore you not to, because "water color is so _much_ more lady-like
than oils." And as for you, Catherine, she sent you a most special
message. I was to tell you that she just _loved_ the way you had
taken to plaiting your hair lately--that it was exactly like the
picture of Jeanie Deans she has in the drawing-room, and that she
would never forgive you if you didn't plait it so to-morrow night.'

Catherine flushed faintly as she got up from the table.

'Mrs. Thornburgh has eagle-eyes,' she said, moving away to give her
arm to her mother, who looked fondly at her, making some remark in
praise of Mrs. Thornburgh's taste.

'Rose!' cried Agnes indignantly, when the other two had disappeared,
'you and Mrs. Thornburgh have not the sense you were born with.
What on earth did you say that to Catherine for?'

Rose stared; then her face fell a little.

'I suppose it was foolish,' she admitted. Then she leant her head
on one hand and drew meditative patterns on the tablecloth with the
other. 'You know, Agnes,' she said presently, looking up, 'there
are drawbacks to having a St. Elizabeth for a sister.'