"You know your own value, darling Dolly, and you would not go at all, if you had not been forbidden." "When people talk like that, it goads me up to almost anything.

I intend to go, and stand, as near as can be, in the middle of the space that is marked off 'dangerous.'" "Do, that's a dear.

I will lend you my shell-silk that measures twenty yards, that you may be sure of being hit, dear." "Inhuman, selfish, wicked creature!" cried Dolly, and it was almost crying; "you shall see what comes of your cold-bloodedness! I shall pace to and fro in the direct line of fire, and hang on my back the king's proclamation, inside out, and written on it in large letters--'By order of my sister I do this.' Then what will be said of you, if they only kill me?
My feelings might be very sad, but I should not envy yours, Faith." "Kiss me, at any rate, before you perish, in token of forgiveness;" and Dolly (who dearly loved her sister at the keenest height of rebellion) ran up and kissed Faith, with a smile for her, and a tear for her own self-sacrifice.

"I shall put on my shell-pink," she said, "and they won't have the heart to fire shells at it." The dress of the ladies of the present passing period had been largely affected by the recent peace, which allowed the "French babies"-- as the milliners' dolls were called--to come in as quickly as they were conceived.

In war time scores of these "doxy-dummies"-- as the rough tars called them--were tossed overboard from captured vessels or set up as a mark for tobacco-juice, while sweet eyes in London wept for want of them.