"And only look at this duck of a pen-wiper," simpered flaxen-hair
No. 2. "Only think of wiping one's pens with relics of General
Chasse!" and she handed it over to the other Miss Macmanus.
"And mine's a pin-cushion," said No. 1, exhibiting the trophy.
"But that's nothing to what I've got," said Miss Grogram. "In the
first place, there's a pair of slippers,--a beautiful pair;--they're
not made up yet, of course; and then--"
The two Misses Macmanus and their five pupils were sitting open-
eared, open-eyed, and open-mouthed. How all these sombre-looking
articles could be relics of General Chasse did not at first appear
clear to them.
"What are they, Miss Grogram?" said the elder Miss Macmanus, holding
the needle-case in one hand and Mrs. Jones's bag in the other. Miss
Macmanus was a strong-minded female, and I reverenced my cousin when
I saw the decided way in which she intended to put down the greedy
arrogance of Miss Grogram.
"They are relics."
"But where do they come from, Miss Grogram?"
"Why, from the castle, to be sure;--from General Chasse's own
rooms."
"Did anybody sell them to you?"
"No."
"Or give them to you?"
"Why, no;--at least not exactly give.
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