"And yet yours looks crowded to the last degree—far too full—and in hers there seems plenty of room for everything."
"Because, grandmother dear," said Molly, opening wide her eyes, "hers is neat and mine isn't."
"Ah," said grandmother. "See what comes of order. Suppose you try a little of it with that mind of yours, Molly, which you say seems always too full. Do you know I strongly suspect that if everything in it were very neatly arranged, you would find a very great deal of room in it; you would be surprised to find how little, not how much, it contains."
"Would I, grandmother dear?" said Molly, looking rather mystified. "I don't quite understand."
"Think about it a little, and then I fancy you will understand," said grandmother. "But we really must go now, or I shall be too late for what I wanted to do. There is that collar of yours loose again, Molly. A little brooch would be the proper thing to fasten it with. You have several."
Poor Molly—her unlucky star was in the ascendant this afternoon surely! She grew very red again, as she answered confusedly,
"Yes, grandmother dear."
"Well then, quick, my dear. Put on the brooch with the bit of coral in the middle, like the one that Sylvia has on now."
"Please, grandmother dear, that one's pin's broken."
"The pin's broken! Ah, well, we'll take it to have it mended then. Where is it, my dear? Give it to me."