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“I know it is, now that it is fashionable to do so.”

“It is, though, in fact.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“But when it was fashionable to have the collar standing, you were very willing to take the trouble.”

“You would not have me affect singularity, sister?”

“Me? No, indeed! I would have you continue to follow the fashions as you are now doing. I would have you dress like other people. And there is one other thing that I would like to see in you.”

“What is that.”

“I would like to see you willing to allow me the same privilege.”

“You have managed your case so ingeniously, Mary,” her brother now said, “as to have beaten me in argument, though I am very sure that I am right, and you in error, in regard to the general principle. I hold it to be morally wrong to follow the fashions. They are unreasonable and arbitrary in their requirements, and it is a species of miserable folly, to be led about by them. I have conversed a good deal with old aunt Abigail on the subject, and she perfectly agrees with me. Her opinions, you can not, of course, treat with indifference?”

“No, not my aunt’s. But for all that, I do not think that either she or uncle Absalom is perfectly orthodox on all matters.”

“I think that they can both prove to you beyond a doubt that it is a most egregious folly to be ever changing with the fashions.”

“And I think that I can prove to them that they are not at all uninfluenced by the fickle goddess.”

“Do so, and I will give up the point. Do so and I will avow myself an advocate of fashion.”

“As you are now in fact. But I accept your challenge, even though the odds of age and numbers are against me. I am very much mistaken, indeed, if I cannot maintain my side of the argument, at least to my own satisfaction.”

“You may do that probably; but certainly not to ours.”

“We will see,” was the laughing reply.

It was a few evenings after, that Henry Grove and his sister called in to see uncle Absalom and aunt Abigail, who were of the old school, and rather ultra-puritanical in their habits and notions. Mary could not but feel, as she came into their presence, that it would be rowing against wind and tide to maintain her point with them–confirmed as they were in their own views of things, and with the respect due to age to give weight to their opinions. Nevertheless, she determined resolutely to maintain her own side of the question, and to use all the weapons, offensive and defensive, that came to her hand. She was a light-hearted girl, with a high flow of spirits, and a quick and discriminating mind. All these were in her favor. The contest was not long delayed, for Henry, feeling that he had powerful auxiliaries on his side, was eager to see his own positions triumph, as he was sure that they must. The welcome words that greeted their entrance had not long been said, before he asked, turning to his aunt,–

“What do you think I found on Mary’s table, the other day, Aunt Abigail?”

“I don’t know, Henry. What was it?”

“You will be surprised to hear,–a fashion plate! And that is not all. By her own confession, she was studying it in order to conform to the prevailing style of dress. Hadn’t you a better opinion of her?”

“I certainly had,” was aunt Abigail’s half smiling, half grave reply.

“Why, what harm is there in following the fashions, aunt?” Mary asked.

“A great deal, my dear. It is following after the vanities of this life. The apostle tells us not to be conformed to this world.”

“I know he does; but what has that to do with the fashions? He doesn’t say that you shall not wear fashionable garments; at least I never saw the passage.”

“But that is clearly what he means, Mary.”