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"Ah, YOU," said Grace, a little saucily.

"We do not accept you for our pattern, you see. Pray excuse our bad taste, Harry."

"Oh, excuse ME, Mrs. Little. In some things I should indeed be proud if I could imitate him; but in others--of course--you know!"

"Yes, I know. My dear, there is your friend Mr. Applethwaite."

"I see him," said Henry, carelessly.

"Yes; but you don't see every thing," said Grace, slyly.

"Not all at once, like you ladies. Bother my friend Applethwaite. Well, if I must, I must. Here goes--from Paradise to Applethwaite."

He went off, and both ladies smiled, and one blushed; and, to cover her blush, said, "it is not every son that has the grace to appreciate his mother so."