hby petted her again.

"And you shouldn't tease me so; and it's very unkind in you; and you
know I'm not well; and I can't bear to think about it all; and I know
you're going to scold me; and you're _always_ scolding me; and you
_never_ do what I want you to. And then people are _always_ coming and
saving my life, and I can't bear it any more."

"No-o-o-o-o-o, n-n-no-o-o-o, darling!" said Mrs. Willoughby,
soothingly, in the tone of a nurse appeasing a fretful child. "You
sha'n't bear it any more."

"I don't _want_ them to save me any more."

"Well, they sha'n't _do_ it, then," said Mrs. Willoughby,
affectionately, in a somewhat maudlin tone.

"And the next time I lose my life, I don't want to be saved. I want
them to let me alone, and I'll come home myself."

"And so you shall, darling; you shall do just as you please. So, now,
cheer up; don't cry;" and Mrs. Willoughby tried to wipe Minnie's eyes.

"But you're treating me just like a baby, and I don't want to be
talked to so," said Minnie, fretfully.

Mrs. Willoughby retreated with a look of despair.

"Well, then, dear, I'll do just whatever you want me to do."

"Well, then, I want you to tell me what I am to do."

"About what?"

"Why, about this great, big, horrid man."

"I thought you didn't want me to talk about this any more."

"But I _do_ want you to talk about it. You're the only person that
I've got to talk to about it; nobody else knows how peculiarly I'm
situated; and I didn't think that you'd give me up because I had fresh
troubles."

"Give you up, darling!" echoed her sister, in surprise.

"You said you wouldn't talk about it any more."

"But I thought you didn't want me to talk about it."

"But I _do_ want you to."

"Very well, then; and now I want you first of all, darling, to tell me
how you happened to get into such danger."

"Well, you know," began Minnie, who now seemed calmer--"you know we
all went out for a drive. And we drove along for miles. Such a drive!
There were lazaroni, and donkeys, and caleches with as many as twenty
in each, all pulled by one poor horse, and it's a great shame; and
pigs--oh, _such_ pigs! Not a particle of hair on them, you know, and
looking like young elephants, you know; and we saw great droves of
oxen, and long lines of booths, no end; and people selling macaroni,
and other people eating it right in the open street, you know--such
fun!--and fishermen and fish-wives. Oh, how they _were_ screaming, a