you have!"

"Brain! it is nothing but a collection of shreds, like a little
girl's work-basket,--a scrap of blue silk and a bit of white
muslin."

"Now she is fishing for compliments," said Kate, "and she shall
have one. She was very sweet and good to Philip last night."

"I know it," said Aunt Jane, with a groan. "I waked in the
night and thought about it. I was awake a great deal last
night. I have heard cocks crowing all my life, but I never
knew what that creature could accomplish before. So I lay and
thought how good and forgiving I was; it was quite
distressing."

"Remorse?" said Kate.

"Yes, indeed. I hate to be a saint all the time. There ought
to be vacations. Instead of suffering from a bad conscience, I
suffer from a good one."

"It was no merit of yours, aunt," put in Harry. "Who was ever
more agreeable and lovable than Malbone last night?"

"Lovable!" burst out Aunt Jane, who never could be managed or
manipulated by anybody but Kate, and who often rebelled against
Harry's blunt assertions. "Of course he is lovable, and that
is why I dislike him. His father was so before him. That is
the worst of it. I never in my life saw any harm done by a