tained honestly that the girl had done no harm. She was glad
she had never had to endure senior sisters, and if she had been
afflicted with younger plagues, she would have made a point of not
snubbing them, on the principle of fair play.

"And you were a little heathenish, Polly," suggested Joanna, "not giving
fair play to the heroism of the ancients."

But Susan had long been waiting her turn, testifying more interest in
her right to speak than she usually wasted on the affairs of the state.
She wished to cross-examine Polly on a single important expression, and
although Susan at least was wonderfully harmless, her patience could
hold out no longer.

"Why are you afraid of being blowsy to-night, Polly?"

"I'm not frightened, I would not disturb myself about a risk; but you've
kept an invitation all this time under my tongue, not in my pockets, I
assure you;" and Polly elaborately emptied them, the foppish breast
pocket, and that at the waist.

"It is only from Mrs. Maxwell," sighed Susan; "we are never invited
anywhere except to Hurlton, in this easy way."

"But there is company; young Mr. Jardine has come home to Whitethorn,
and he is to dine with the Maxwells, and we are invited over to Hurlton
in the evening lest the claret or the port should be too much for him."

The girls did not say "Nonsense!" they looked at each other; Joanna was
very pale, the red stain was very clear now. At last Lilias spoke,
hesitating a little to begin with, "It is so like Mrs. Maxwell--without
a moment's consideration--so soon after his return, before we had met
casually, as we must have done. I dare say she is sorry now, when she
comes to think over it. I hope Mr. Maxwell will be angry with her--the
provoking old goose," ran on Lilias, neither very reverently nor very
gratefully for an excellent, exemplary girl.

"There is one thing, we can't refuse," said Susan with marvellous
decision; "it would be out of the question for us to avoid him; it would
be too marked for us to stay away."

"Read your book, Conny," commanded Lilias fiercely; "you were
sufficiently intent upon it a moment ago; girls should not be made
acquainted with such troubles."

"I don't want to be a bar upon you," cried the belated Conny, rising and
walking away sulkily, but pricking her ears all the time.

"Joanna, you had better mention the matter to papa."

"Don't you think you're making an unnecessary fuss?" remarked Polly. "Of
course, I remembered unc