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Rh Wellington,—no, not Wellington. Never mind, I’ll get a list from you to-morrow and look it all up,—it’s perfectly marvelous! And I have one of this great, unhappy, suffering class in my own family, one who may yet be transformed into an Elizabeth Browning or a Joan of Arc!"

Mistress Mary sighed in her heart. She learned more of Mrs. Grubb with every interview, and she knew that her enthusiasms were as discouraging as her apathies.

"How unlucky that I mentioned Napoleon, Cæsar, and Mohammed!" she thought. "I shall be haunted now by the fear that she will go on a lecturing-tour through the country, and exhibit poor Lisa as an interesting example. Mrs. Grubb’s mind is like nothing so much as a crazy-quilt."