“Well, I would rather have a character for something better,” said Phoebe.
“You may make yourself easy; you’ll never get a character for smartness,” responded her cousin with an unpleasant laugh. “Well, I say, Phoebe, while they are here I shall have Molly in my room, and you must sleep with Gatty. You can come in and dress me of a morning, you know, and help me into bed at night; but we can’t do with three in one room.”
Phoebe was inwardly thankful for it. What little she had seen of Gatty was rather negative than positive; but at least it had not, as in the case of Molly revealed anything actively disagreeable. Rhoda was heartily welcome to Molly’s society so far as Phoebe was concerned. But it surprised and rather perplexed Phoebe to find that Rhoda actually liked this very objectionable maiden.
“Panem?” asked Molly, the next morning at breakfast. Her Latin, such as it was, was entirely unburdened with cases and declensions. “Thank you, I will take kakos.”
“Fiddle-de-dee! what’s that?” said Molly. Rhoda had completely forgotten what the word meant.
“Oh, ’tis the Greek for biscuit,” said she, daringly.
Phoebe contrived to hide a portion of her face in her teacup, but Gatty saw her eyes, and read their meaning.
“The Greek!” cried Molly. “Who has taught you Greek, Ne’er-do-well?”
“A very learned person,” said Rhoda, to whom it was delight to mystify Molly.
“Old Onslow?” demanded irreverent Molly, quite undeterred by the consideration that the chaplain sat at the table with her.