"My mind does seem very full.

I don't know how it is, I'm sure." Grandmother quietly opened a drawer in a chest of drawers near to which she was standing.

It was very neat.

The different articles it contained were arranged in little heaps; there were a good many things in it--gloves, scarfs, handkerchiefs, ribbons, collars, but there seemed plenty of room for all.
"Whose drawer is this ?" she asked.
[Illustration: 'WHOSE DRAWER IS THIS ?'] "Mine," said Sylvia.
"Sylvia's," answered Molly in the same breath, but growing very red as she saw grandmother's hand and eyes turning in the direction of the neighbour drawer to the one she had opened.
"I am so sorry, grandmother dear," she exclaimed; "I wish you wouldn't look at mine to-day.

I was going to put it tidy, but I hadn't time." It was too late.