A GRAND MISUNDERSTANDING. 131

“She is a little better to-day, thank you,”
I shout in her ear.

“Ah! [’m sorry to hear it, very sorry,”
says my companion, shaking her head sadly;
“poor dear, how she does suffer, to be
sure!”

“No, no,” I cry desperately, “she is better
to-day, Mrs. Featherstone.”

But she still shakes her head and mur-
murs, “Yes, yes; it’s the heat, to be sure; it’s
trying to those who are strong, so what
must it be to her, poor thing!”

I feel very angry, but it is no use trying
to make her understand, so I give the matter
up as hopeless.

After some little time Mrs. Featherstone
lays her hand on my arm and says:

“My dear, I want you and your sister,
your neat sister, I mean, to come and drink
tea with me next Saturday: one of my nieces
comes to spend a few days with me, and I
should like you to know each other.”

“Thank you very much, Mis, Feather-
stone,’ I reply, trying to speak very slowly