excessively; so, pray be agreeable, now, and let a fellow repose in the light of your smile."
"What's the matter about Dolph?" said Marie. "That fellow's impudence has been growing to a point that is perfectly intolerable to me. I only wish I had the undisputed management of him a while. I'd bring him down!"
"What you say, my dear, is marked with your usual acuteness and good sense," said St. Clare. "As to Dolph, the case is this: that he has so long been engaged in imitating my graces and perfections, that he has, at last, really mistaken himself for his master; and I have been obliged to give him a little insight into his mistake."
"How?" said Marie.
"Why, I was obliged to let him understand explicitly that I preferred to keep some of my clothes for my own personal wearing; also, I put his magnificence upon an allowance of cologne-water, and actually was so cruel as to restrict him to one dozen of my cambric handkerchiefs. Dolph was particularly huffy about it, and I had to talk to him like a father, to bring him round."
"O! St. Clare, when will you learn how to treat your servants? It's abominable, the way you indulge them!" said Marie.
"Why, after all, what's the harm of the poor dog's wanting to be like his master; and if I have n't brought him up any better than to find his chief good in cologne and cambric handkerchiefs, why should n't I give them to him?"
"And why have n't you brought him up better?" said Miss Ophelia, with blunt determination.
"Too much trouble,—laziness, cousin, laziness,—which ruins more souls than you can shake a stick at. If it were n't for laziness, I should have been a perfect angel,
