she said Auntie Agnes was tight -- too tight."

Above his head the eyes of husband and wife met; and Mahony threw out his hands as if to imply: "There you have it!"

But Mamma was drefully angry. "How dare you repeat such a nasty, vulgar thing! I'm ashamed of you -- you naughty boy!"

Besides really "wanting to know," Cuffy had thought his question a funny one, which would call forth laughter and applause. He was dumbfounded, and went red to the roots of his hair. What had he said? Why was Mamma so cross? Why was it more wrong for Auntie Agnes to be tight than Lallie or Lucie? -- And now he had made Mamma and Papa cross with each other again, too.

"It's not repeating kitchen talk that matters, Mary; but that the child should be in the way of hearing it at all."

"Pray, how can I help it? I do my best; but it's quite impossible for me never to let the children out of my sight. I've told you over and over again they need a governess."

As the time approached for Mr. Henry's arrival, Agnes grew more and more ill at ease: her tic redoubled in violence; she could settle to nothing, and wandered aimlessly from room to room; while, on receipt of the letter fixing the day, she began openly to shake and tremble. "You won't mention to Henry, Mary . . . I mean . . . oh, love, you understand?" and all Mary's tactful assurances did not quieten her. Her fear of her husband was painful to see; almost equally painful her barefaced relief when, at the eleventh hour, important business cropped up which made it impossible for Mr. Henry to get away.

"Of course, if things have come to this pass between them, then it's much better they should be separated for a while. But that he can let any business interfere with seeing her off on so long a journey -- well, all I can say is . . ." said Mary; and left the rest of her wrath to the imagination.

"Tut, tut! . . . when he's got some one here to do his dirty work for him. He probably never had any intention of coming."

So the two women drove to Sandridge and boarded a sailing-vessel bound for the Cape. The best cabin amidships had been engaged for Agnes, and tastefully furnished. There were flowers in it, and several boxes of biscuits and oranges for the voyage. But Agnes did not so much as look round; she only cried and cried; and, when the time for parting came, threw her arms about Mary and clung to her as if she would never let go. It was, said Mary afterwards, just like seeing a doomed creature off for perdition.

"I don't believe she'll ever come back.