Madame.—"It's all deception. My time has come, dear friend, and to you I wish to confide my last wishes."
Schillie.—"But I never can keep a secret. Don't confide anything to me."
Madame.—"They are not secrets. I only wish to confide my beloved little ones to your care after I am gone."
Schillie.—"But I hate children, Madame. June will take care of them."
Madame.—"Ah, I know she will; but she is so fond, so tender a Mother, she sees no faults in them. There is my darling Sybil, she is certainly, if a human being can be, faultless."
Schillie.—"She is a very good soul in her way, Madame, but shockingly untidy."
Madame.—"But her lovely smile, her sweet engaging manners. My Serena is something like her, but, being so much with Gertrude, she is a little less ladylike in manners than I could wish. Could you, dear Mrs. E., just hint to her when I am gone——"
Schillie.—"Oh, good lack! no, Madame, I can hint nothing. I'll tell her you thought her unladylike if you wish; but I think both she and Gatty are first-rate Girls. They are afraid of nothing, and your pattern, Sybil, jumps at a spider."
Madame.—"Dear angel! I must go on. My lovely Zoë will certainly have a poke if she is not watched."
Schillie.—"I'll poke her up always, Madame, I promise you, for your sake."