girl quiet, so, pouring out a large
glassful, she bade Marie drink it. The latter obeyed meekly, and for
some time was reduced to silence by want of breath.

"I shall certainly throw myself into the sea," she gasped at last.

"Well, you will certainly be more foolish than I thought you were, if
you do," Barbara returned calmly. "Indeed, I can't think what all this
fuss is about."

Marie stared. "Why, it's to show Aunt Therese that she must not
tyrannise over us like that," she said. "I told her I was going to
throw myself into the sea, and as she believes it, it is almost the
same thing."

Barbara shrugged her shoulders.

"A very comfortable way of doing things in cold weather," she remarked;
"but I want a little quiet now, and I think you had better have some
too."

The French girl, somewhat overawed by the other's coolness, relapsed
into silence, and when the sounds downstairs seemed quieter Barbara got
up, and said she was going out for a walk. She found on descending,
however, that the "argument" had only been transferred to
mademoiselle's workroom, where a very funny sight met her eyes when she
looked in.

The poor little widower, whom apparently the two sisters had fetched to
arbitrate between them, stood looking fearfully embarrassed in the
middle of the room, turning apologetically from one to the other. He
never got any further than the first few words, however, as they
brought a torrent of explanation from both his hearers, each giving him
dozens of reasons why the other was wrong.

Marie, who watched for a moment or two, could not help joining in; and
Barbara, very tired of it all, left them to fight it out by themselves,
and went away by the winding streets to the look-out station, where she
sat down and watched the sun shining on the beautiful old walls of St.
Malo. She had only been once in that town with Mademoiselle Therese,
but the ramparts and the old houses had fascinated her, and if she had
been allowed, she would have crossed the little moving bridge daily.

When she returned, the house seemed quiet again, for which she was very
thankful, and, mounting to her room, she prepared the French lesson
which was usually given her at that time.

But when Mademoiselle Therese came up, she spent most of the time in
bewailing the ingratitude of one's fellow mortals, especially near
relations, and wondering if Marie were really going to drown herself,
and when her sister would unlock her doo