ors asked if I
didn't know they were dangerous; and when I said yes, he wanted to know
how I came to be so foolish as to wear them."

"And then he lectured me," Enna went on, "as if it was all my fault, when
of course it was her own carelessness; for if it wasn't, why haven't some
of the rest of us fallen down. Accidents happen when nobody's to blame."

"I came near falling the other day, myself," said Mrs. Conly, "and I'll
never wear a high, narrow heel again, nor let one of my girls do so. Now
I'm going out. You two ought to take a nap; Molly especially, poor child!
I'm very sorry for you; but don't cry any more now. It will only hurt
your eyes."

Mrs. Conly was to stay to tea and spend the evening. Stepping into the
parlor she found all the adult members of the family there.

"I want to have a talk with you, Louise," her brother said, seating her
comfortably on a sofa and drawing up a chair beside her.

"And I think I know what about," she returned with heightened color,
glancing toward Elsie, "but let me tell you beforehand, Horace, that you
may as well spare yourself the trouble. I have already accepted Mrs.
Delaford's offer."

"Louise! how could you be so hasty in so important a matter?"

"Permit me to answer that question with another," she retorted, drawing
herself up haughtily, "what right have you to call me to an account for so
doing?"

"Only the right of an older brother to take a fraternal interest in your
welfare and that of his nieces."

"What is it, mother?" asked Calhoun.

She told him in a few words, and he turned to his uncle with the query why
he so seriously objected to her acceptance of what seemed so favorable an
offer.

"Because I think it would be putting in great jeopardy the welfare of your
sisters, temporal and spiritual"

"What nonsense, Horace!" exclaimed Mrs. Conly angrily. "Of course I shall
expressly stipulate that their faith is not to be interfered with."

"And just as much of course the promise will be given and systematically
broken without the slightest compunction; because in the creed of Rome the
end sanctifies the means and no end is esteemed higher or holier than that
of adding members to her communion."

"Well," said Louise, "I must say you judge them hardly. I'm sure there are
at least some pious ones among them and of course they wouldn't lie."

"You forget that the more pious they are, the more obedient they will be
to the teachings of their church, and whe