“Indeed, our friend Miss Grant was so conscious of the great superiority of these buttons over any others, that she bespoke thirty-six dozen of them to take to Scotland with her.  In fact, they are the real good old-fashioned shirt-buttons, such as I have heard my mother talk of; and for all that, I make a point of my poor woman selling them a penny a dozen below the shop price; so that in taking twelve dozen, which is the common quantity, there is a shilling saved at once.”

Grizzy felt as if she would be the saving of the family by the purchase of these incomparable shirt buttons, and, putting down her five shillings, became the happy possessor of twelve dozen of them.

Fresh expressions of gratitude and admiration ensued, till Grizzy’s brain began to whirl even more rapidly than usual, at the thought of the deeds she had done.

“And now,” said Mrs. Fox, observing her eyes in a fine frenzy rolling from her lapful of pincushions and shirt buttons, to a mandarin nearly as large as life, “perhaps, my dear Miss Douglas, you will do me the favour to take a look of my little collection.”

“Favour!” thought Grizzy; “what politeness!” and she protested there was nothing she liked so much as to look at everything, and that it would be the greatest favour to show her anything.  The mandarin was made to shake his head—­a musical snuffbox played its part—­and a variety of other expensive toys were also exhibited.

Mary’s disgust increased.  “And this woman,” thought she, “professes to be charitable amidst all this display of selfish extravagance.  Probably the price of one of these costly baubles would have provided for the whole of these poor people for whom she affects so much compassion, without subjecting her to the meanness of turning her house into a beggar’s repository.”  And she walked away to the other end of the room to examine some fine scriptural paintings.

“Here,” said Mrs. Fox to her victim, as she unlocked a superb cabinet, “is what I value more than my whole collection put together.  It is my specimens of Scotch pebbles; and I owe them solely to the generosity and good-will of my Scotch friends.  I assure you that is a proud reflection to me.  I am a perfect enthusiast in Scotch pebbles, and, I may say, in Scotch people.  In fact, I am an enthusiast in whatever I am interested in; and at present, I must own, my heart is set upon making a complete collection of Scotch pebbles.”

Grizzy began to feel a sort of tightness at her throat, at which was affixed a very fine pebble brooch pertaining to Nicky, but lent to Grizzy, to enable her to make a more distinguished figure in the gay world.

“Oh!” thought she, “what a pity this brooch is Nicky’s, and not mine; I would have given it to this charming Mrs. Fox.  Indeed, I don’t see how I can be off giving it to her, even although it is Nicky’s.”

“And, by-the-bye,” exclaimed Mrs. Fox, as if suddenly struck with the sight of the brooch, “that seems a very fine stone of yours.  I wonder I did not observe it sooner; but, indeed, pebbles are thrown away in dress.  May I beg a nearer view of it?”