y much a matter of taste. Leave enough--say one of each sort for
each person in the house. There should be no stint."

"How am I to know how many persons there are?"

"Ask the butcher with whom they deal."

On the following day I remarked that Popworth must have come in for
money, to be taking so large a house, and I hoped she had left the
cards.

"I asked the butcher, and he said there was Popworth, his wife, two
sisters, a German friend, and eleven children. That was sixteen
persons, and made forty-eight cards altogether. You see, I remembered
your rule."

"My dear Eliza," I said, "I told you as plainly as possible that it was
a matter of taste. You ought not to have left forty-eight at once."

"Oh, I couldn't keep running backwards and forwards leaving a few at a
time. I've got something else to do. There's three pair of your socks
in the basket waiting to be darned, as it is."

"And, good heavens! That Popworth can't be my Popworth. If he's only
married this year, he can't, in the nature of things, have got eleven
children. And a house like this can't call on a house like that without
a something to justify it."

"That's what I thought."

"Then what on earth did you call for?"

"I didn't. Who said I did?"

* * * * *

I gave a sigh of relief. Later in the evening, when Eliza took a card,
notched a bit out of each side, and began winding silk on it, I thought
it wiser to say nothing. It is better sometimes to pretend not to see
things.

ELIZA'S MOTHER

I generally send Eliza to spend a day with her mother early in
December, and try to cheer her up a little. I daresay the old lady is
very lonely, and appreciates the kindly thought. The return ticket is
four-and-two, and Eliza generally buys a few flowers to take with her.
That does not leave much change out of five shillings when the day is
over, but I don't grudge the money. Eliza's mother generally tries to
find out, without precisely asking, what we should like for a Christmas
present. Eliza does not actually tell her, or even hint it--she would
not care to do anything of that sort. But she manages, in a tactful
sort of way, to let her know.

For instance, the year before last Eliza's mother happened to say, "I
wonder if you know what I am going to give you this Christmas."

Eliza said, "I can see in your eye, mother, and you sha'n't do it. It's
much too expensive. If other people can do without s