“O yes, I suppose so.  I don’t take much notice of such things.  But I believe she has changed the pattern of her cap a good many times.”

“And what if I have, pray?” asked aunt Abigail, fidgeting uneasily.

“O, nothing, only that in doing so, you were following some new fashion,” replied Mary.

“It is no such thing!” said aunt Abigail.

“I can prove it.”

“You can’t.”

“Yes I can, and I will.  Don’t you remember when the high crowns were worn?”

“Of course I do.”

“And you wore them, of course.”

“Well, suppose I did?”

“And then came the close, low-crowned cap.  I remember the very time you adopted that fashion, and thought it so much more becoming than the great tower of lace on the back part of the head.”

“And so it was.”

“But why didn’t you think so before,” asked Mary, looking archly into the face of her aunt.

“Why—­because-because—­”

“O, I can tell you, so you needn’t search all over the world for a reason.  It was because the high crowns were fashionable.  Come out plain and aboveboard and say so.”

“Indeed, I won’t say any such thing.”

“Then what was the reason?”

“Every body wore them, and their unsightly appearance had not been made apparent by contrast.”

“Exactly!  They were fashionable.  But when a new fashion laughed them out of countenance, you cast them aside, as I do an old fashion for a new one.  Then came the quilled border all around.  Do you remember that change? and how, in a little while after, the plain piece of lace over your forehead disappeared?  Why was that, aunt Abigail?  Was there no regard for fashion there?  And now, at this very time your cap is one that exhibits the latest and neatest style for old ladies’ caps.  I could go on and prove to your satisfaction, or at least to my own, that you have followed the fashion almost as steadily as I have.  But I have sufficiently made out my case.  Don’t you think so, Henry?”

Thus appealed to, her brother, who had been surprised at the turn the conversation had taken, not expecting to see Mary carry the war home so directly as she had done, hardly knew how to reply.  He, however, gave a reluctant

“Yes.”

“But there is some sense in your aunt’s adoption of fashion,” said uncle Absalom.

“Though not much, it would seem in yours, if you estimate fashion by use,” retorted Mary.

“What does the girl mean?” asked aunt Abigail in surprise.

“Of what use, uncle, are those two buttons on the back of your coat?”

“I am sure I don’t know.”

“Then why do you wear them if you don’t know their use, unless it be that you wish to be in the fashion?  Then there are two more at the bottom of the skirt, half hid, half seen, as if they were ashamed to be found so much out of their place.  Then, can you enlighten me as to the use of these two pieces of cloth here, called, I believe, flaps?”