not accustomed to it, poor Things."

"That is like you, dear mamma; making excuses for one." Julia added
faintly, "But he is so impetuous."

"I have a daughter who reconciles me to impetuosity. And he _must_ have a
good heart, he was so kind to my boy."

Julia looked down smiling; but presently seemed to be seized with a
spirit of contradiction: she began to pick poor Alfred to pieces; he was
this, that, and the other; and then so bold, she might say impudent.

Mrs. Dodd replied calmly that he was very kind to her boy.

"Oh, mamma, you cannot approve all the words he spoke."

"It is not worth while to remember all the words young gentlemen speak
now-a-days. He was very kind to my boy, I remember that."

The tea was now ready, and Mrs. Dodd sat down, and patted a chair, with a
smile of invitation for Julia to come and sit beside her. But Julia said,
"In one minute, dear," and left the room.

When she came back, she fluttered up to her mother and kissed her
vehemently, then sat down radiant. "Ah!" said Mrs. Dodd, "why, you are
looking yourself once more. How do you feel now? Better?"

"How do I feel? Let me see: The world seems one e-nor-mous flower-garden,
and Me the butterfly it all belongs to." She spake, and to confirm her
words the airy thing went waltzing, sailing, and fluttering round the