thought, in character, and in deed; lovable, intelligent, vivacious,
easily irritated, but still more easily pleased, sharp of tongue, tender
of heart, and full to overflowing with humour. In appearance Marie was
small and slight, with a sallow complexion which was the bane of her
life, black hair and beautiful white teeth. No one could call her
handsome, but she had certainly an attraction of her own.

This morning Pixie arrived upon the scene in time to overhear a typical
conversation between the nurse and her two charges. Geoff, the elder of
the two brothers, a handsome, imperious youngster, having overheard a
chance remark as to his own likeness to his mother, was engaged in a
rigorous cross-questioning of Marie, on the subject.

"Marie, am I beautiful?"

"Leetle boys are not beautiful. It is enough when they are good."

"My mother is beautiful. Mr Carr says I am like my mother."

"Ugly people can be like beautiful people. How can a dirty little boy
be like a _belle grande dame_? Regard thy hands! Four times already
have they been scrubbed."

"My hands can be clean when I like. I was talking of if I was
beautiful."

"Silence, miserable one! The appearance is of no account," pronounced
Marie boldly. "To be good is better than beauty."

Geoffrey drew his brows together in a frown. He was displeased, and
when he was displeased he made himself felt.

"I should fink, Marie," he said deliberately, "that you must be the
goodest person in all the world."

The inference was plain, so plain that sensitive little Jack coloured up
to the roots of his hair. Jack was the sweetest and most lovable of
children--a flaxen-haired cherub, whose winning face and gentle ways
made him universally beloved. Among the children of the second
generation he stood out pre-eminently, and every one of his aunts and
uncles enshrined him in a special niche of affection. Pixie had known
many searchings of heart because of her own partiality, but was fain to
console herself by the thought that Jack was even more like the beloved
Bridgie than Bridgie's own sturdy, commonplace son.

As for Jack, he loved everybody, Marie among the number, and, feeling
her depreciated, rushed stutteringly to the rescue.

"Oh, Geoff!" he cried eagerly. "You souldn't! You souldn't, Geoff! I
know somefing that's uglier than Marie--"

Geoff's scowl deepened. He might insinuate, but a barefaced putting
into words outraged his feelings. His e