"Molly," said Sylvia, her face growing very red, "it is perfectly horrible of you to talk that way. I am quite ashamed of you. Don't mind her, grandmother. She just talks as if she had no sense sometimes. How can you, Molly?" she went on, turning again to her sister, "how can you talk about dear grandmother dying? Dear grandmother, and you pretend to love her."
Molly's big blue eyes opened wide with astonishment, then gradually they grew misty, and great tears welled up to their surface.
"I don't pretend—I do love her," she said. "And I don't want you to die, grandmother dear, do I? only we all must die some time. I didn't mean to talk horribly. I think you are very unkind, Sylvia."
"Children, children," said grandmother's gentle voice, "I don't like these words. I am sure Molly did not mean anything I would not like, Sylvia dear, but yet I know how you mean. Don't be in such a hurry to judge each other. And about the cup, Molly, I'll consider, though I hope and believe you will not need it to remind you of the lesson I want to impress on you by the story of my long-ago troubles. Now kiss each other, dears, and kiss me, for it is quite bed-time. Good-night, my little girls. Ralph, my boy, open the door for your sisters, and pleasant dreams to you all."
CHAPTER IX.
RALPH'S CONFIDENCE.
"Sad case it is, as you may think
For very cold to go to bed;
And then for cold not sleep a wink."
Wordsworth's Goody Blaks
"Grandmother," said Ralph, when they were all sitting at breakfast the next morning, "didn't you say that your grandmother once had an adventure that we might like to hear? It was at the beginning of the story you told us—I think it was something about the corkscrew staircase. I liked the story awfully, you know, but I'm fearfully fond of adventures."