"Yes; but there are so many things papa does not like I can never remember them all. Never mind about that; but listen to something I've got to tell you, if you'll never, never tell."
"No, indeed I won't, Mary. What is it?"
"Not to Mrs Denbigh?"
"No, not even to Mrs Denbigh."
"Well, then, the other day—last Friday, Mimie—"
"Jemima!" interrupted the more conscientious Elizabeth.
"Jemima, if it must be so," jerked out Mary, "sent me to her desk for an envelope, and what do you think I saw?"
"What?" asked Elizabeth, expecting nothing less than a red-hot Valentine, signed Walter Farquhar, pro Bradshaw, Farquhar, and Co., in full.
"Why, a piece of paper, with dull-looking lines upon it, just like the scientific dialogues; and I remembered all about it. It was once when Mr Farquhar had been telling us that a bullet does not go in a straight line, but in a something curve, and he drew some lines on a piece of paper; and Mimie—"
"Jemima," put in Elizabeth.