Louisa M. Gray
 
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 NELLY'S TEACHEBS.
 
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 fHAT ARE YOU CALLEDF" 
 
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 Nelly's Teacher 
 
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 5 t^fo^-s- 
 
 A PERPLEXED CHILD. 
 
 Pil£C 20$ 
 
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 LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK.
 
 k
 
 NELLY'S TEACHEES 
 
 AND 
 
 WHAT THEY LEAKNED. 
 
 By 
 
 LOUISA M. GRAY. 
 
 S*" 
 
 Wnaxmz gidgtm sttb <§ons, 
 
 LONDON, EDINBURGH, A.ND NEW YORK. 
 
 ANSON D. 1'. RANDOLPH AND CO., NEW YORK. 
 
 All rights reserved.'] 
 
 I88 5 .
 
 4-72.? 
 
 (STon tents. 
 
 I. THE STRAYED CHILD, 
 
 II. A TALK ABOUT WORK, 
 
 III. nelly's first lesson, 
 
 IV. EVERYTHING goes wrong, ... 
 V. EVERYTHING COMES RIGHT, ... 
 
 VI. NELLY'S SECOND LESSON, 
 
 VII. CHARLEY GOES TO SUNDAY SCHOOL, 
 
 VIII. NEWS OF NELLY'S MOTHER, ... 
 
 IX. TWO LIFE-STORIES, ... 
 
 X. A GLORIOUS PROJECT UNFOLDED, 
 
 XI. MORE OF HELEN RUSSELL'S LIFE-STORY, 
 
 XII. THE DAY IN TOWN, ... 
 
 XIII. MASTER AND PUPIL, 
 
 XIV. CHRISTMAS DAY, 
 
 XV. ONE EVENING, AND ITS PLEASURES, 
 
 XVI. PLEASURES FOR EVERMORE, ... 
 
 XVir. A GREAT CHANCE IN HOPEFIELD, 
 
 XVIII. NURSE AT ABERINNAN, 
 
 xix. more of Hugh's life-stoey, 
 
 XX. ANOTHER TUTOR TAKES HUGH'S PLACE. 
 
 XXI. ROCKHAVEN, 
 
 XXII. STRANGE NEWS FROM HOPEFIELD 
 
 XXIII. GOOD-BYE TO THE SEA, 
 
 XXIV. THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME. 
 
 7 
 31 
 64 
 85 
 114 
 132 
 145 
 164 
 181 
 204 
 226 
 239 
 206 
 279 
 2S9 
 307 
 
 345 
 363 
 385 
 399 
 410 
 426 
 439
 
 (
 
 NELLY'S TEACHEES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE STRAYED CHILD. 
 
 ALLY, Fraulein says that, if we don't go very 
 far, or stay very long, we may go out alone, 
 for she's got a headache." 
 
 " How jolly that is ! " 
 
 "0 Lally! not for her." 
 
 u Well, I didn't mean jolly that Fraulein's got a head- 
 ache; I mean jolly that we're going out without her. You 
 be quick and put away the books, Lina." 
 
 The scene of this dialogue was a snug schoolroom in a 
 country-house; the speakers were two little girls, so much 
 alike in appearance and height that they might have been 
 taken for twins. Alice Hope, the elder of the two, sat on 
 the rug in her walking-dress, playing with a tortoise-shell 
 kitten; Lina Hope, also in hat and jacket, was collecting 
 the lesson-books which were scattered over the table, and 
 building them into one huge pile, preparatory to stowing 
 them away on the shelves. 
 
 " Friiulein's head got worse after she went upstairs,
 
 8 ALICE AND UNA. 
 
 Lally; and nurse says it's rheumatism. She's rolled it all 
 up in red flannel, and has gone to lie in her bed with the 
 blinds down. Oh ! — " For as Lina was lifting her pyramid 
 from the table there was a slip, then a sudden cr^h, and 
 an utter dispersion of the books about the carpet. Alice 
 laughed; so did Lina after a moment, and then set about 
 collecting them again without the least appearance of ill- 
 humour; while Alice, who seemed to see no necessity for 
 giving her assistance, carried the kitten to the window to 
 introduce her to a large black dog, waiting rather im- 
 patiently outside. 
 
 "Toodlekins, Toodlekins, don't you want to look at 
 Sam?" 
 
 Sam, hearing his own name, and seeing his mistress, put 
 his two paws on the window-sill, and brought his honest 
 In-own eyes and great open mouth close to the glass, while 
 he beat the gravel energetically with his tail. To poor 
 Toodlekins, held inside the window within an inch or two 
 of his shining black muzzle, he was indeed a terrific 
 object — to be spat at with the courage of despair, while 
 she struggled and scratched in vain attempts to escape 
 from the hands that held her tight. Alice was not a cruel 
 child. She was fond of Toodlekins too, and if she had 
 ever thought what torture she was inflicting on the poor 
 little animal, she never would have done it. But the pity 
 was, she was not much given to thinking. So it was not 
 till Lina was ready that Toodlekins regained her freedom; 
 and, scampering over the schoolroom floor with her tail 
 erect, she took refuge in her favourite retreat behind the big 
 books in the press, a, haven of security which she had feared 
 in her pussy heart would never be reached by her again. 
 
 "Down, Sam, down !" said Alice, drawing up the win- 
 dow and scrambling out herself. "Down, old fellow!
 
 HOPEFIELD. y 
 
 We're going out a nice walk with you, all by ourselves — 
 no Fraulein with us ! We may run the whole way if we 
 like. Lina, we can get the primrose roots for our gardens 
 from the river-side. Bring a basket and a trowel." 
 
 How is it that some children manage to gain such com- 
 plete authority over their younger brothers and sisters 1 
 There was only a year's difference in age between the 
 Hope girls, yet Fraulein Stauer, their governess, would 
 never have demanded from either of her pupils such im- 
 plicit obedience as Lina yielded to Alice. Now, though 
 Lina was half out of the window following her sister, she 
 turned immediately to make a search for the basket and 
 the trowel. And Alice took Lina's submission entirely as 
 a matter of course; indeed, had any one suggested to her 
 that she might go her errands herself, she would have been 
 most unaffectedly astonished. She even thought herself 
 uncommonly patient and virtuous, because she waited for 
 her sister in front of the house, and restrained Sam's 
 anxiety to depart, until Lina reappeared. 
 
 " There you are at last ! — what a time you've been ! 
 Not there, Sam; not there, old fellow. Down the west 
 avenue." 
 
 Hopefield was a lai'ge house, neither old nor interesting; 
 originally a square block of building, now with various 
 additions, which had been made to suit the convenience of 
 its owners, without any regard to beauty or picturesque 
 effect. The front faced the south, looking on a rather 
 pretty landscape, where woods and fields sloped gently 
 down to a river; the gardens were behind the house and 
 out of sight; and the two avenues which swept east and 
 west from the door were bordered with evergreen shrubs 
 and firs, which made the place look bright in winter, but 
 a little dark and sombre in the summer-time.
 
 10 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 
 
 Alice and Lina had been born at Hopefield, and knew 
 no other home. They had scarcely been absent from it all 
 their lives, and it was very dear to them, — a perfect para- 
 dise of delights — the most beautiful place in the whole 
 world. Though the Hopes were by no means a very 
 ancient family, it had been the home of Alice and Lina's 
 father also in his childhood; and here their mother had 
 spent the brief years of her wedded life. She lay sleeping 
 now in a little churchyard by the side of the quiet river, 
 and her loss had never been repaired to the children, who 
 wore too young to remember her. 
 
 I do not know whether it was not all the sadder for 
 them that they could not realize their loss — that, never 
 basing known a mother's love, they scarcely felt the want 
 of it; but for the rest, they were well cared for after a 
 fashion — a faithful old nurse watched over their babyhood, 
 their governess was kind-hearted and conscientious, and 
 both children entertained an enthusiastic and admiring 
 affection for the young bride who had been at Hopefield 
 only a few months now. Had their mother lived, their 
 path in the beginning of life would have been smoother; 
 they would likely have had fewer faults, and made fewer 
 mistakes; both of the girls, and especially Alice, might 
 well have been softer and more gentle. But God, who is 
 surely no less tender and pitiful to the motherless than to 
 the fatherless children, remembered Alice and Lina, and 
 in his own infinite wisdom chose every step of their way 
 for them. 
 
 They certainly looked healthy and happy enough now, 
 standing together in the bright, frosty, autumn sunshine — 
 both very pretty children, tall and fair, with great blue 
 eyes and .soft complexions; Alice perhaps the prettier of 
 the two, witli brighter tints in her cheeks and hair, but
 
 FOND OB' WASHING. 11 
 
 altogether wanting in the nameless grace of manner and 
 motion which made people say that her younger sister . 
 was so very lady-like. Both were, however, undoubtedly 
 thorough romps ; and Sam having proved open to convic- 
 tion on the subject of the west avenue, the whole three 
 were very soon scampering down it on a race to the gate. 
 
 For a time it seemed doubtful who would first reach 
 the goal, until the trowel was ill-natured enough to leap 
 from Lina's basket, and roll down the bank at the side 
 of the walk, thereby compelling her to go after it, and so 
 lose all hope of being the winner. When she reached the 
 Lodge, she found that Alice too had come to a halt, and, 
 pressed close to the ivy-covered wall of the little cottage, 
 was staring in at the window with her nose flattened 
 against the glass. 
 
 " O Lally, you are rude ! " said Lina; then, as her sister 
 came away, she added, laughing, " Were you going to be 
 like the old French ladies long ago 1 " 
 
 " The old French ladies? Oh, I know — some one wrote 
 a book telling them not to stare in at people's windows. 
 You got that in Markham. I hate Markham. There 
 wasn't a creature inside, though; I tried the door. Mrs. 
 Veitch must have gone out somewhere." 
 
 "No; it's her washing-day," said Lina, pointing to a 
 thin wreath of smoke rising up behind the cottage. " She's 
 got a gipsy fire there, and puts on a big pot, and does her 
 washing outside. Mrs. Veitch is very fond of washing. 
 When she meets a person, she never says, Fine day; she 
 says, Fine day for washing." 
 
 " She's the most disgustingly clean woman I ever saw," 
 said Alice, wrathfully, as they passed out of the gate. 
 " If she isn't helping to wash at the house, she is sure to 
 be washing at home; and when she has nothing else to
 
 12 MRS. VEITCH AND HER AFFAIRS. 
 
 scrub, she scrubs her own face. That's what makes it sc 
 red and shiny." ( 
 
 " Lally," said her sister with solemnity, " I'm sure she 
 must put on at least three clean caps every day, the borders 
 are always so white and stiff. How can she open and shut 
 her mouth with a frame like that fastened round her face 1 
 Don't you think it must be very uncomfortable, to have a 
 stiff prickly thing like that fastened under your chin 1 " 
 
 " Not a bit more uncomfortable than having plaits and 
 chignons and fizzy things on the top of one's head, like 
 some ladies. I'm not going to wear a cap when I grow 
 up, Lina ; but I'm determined I'm going to have my hair 
 cut quite short, whatever you do." 
 
 Lina could not help thinking that the shearing away of 
 her sister's long bright locks would be anything but an 
 improvement, especially to such a tall and stately maiden 
 as Alice promised to be. However, she refrained from 
 making any such remark, and contented herself by saying, 
 "Mrs. Veitch hasn't got her hair cut short, though; she's 
 got it rolled into a little tap at the back of her head under 
 In reap; and nurse says Mrs. Veitch's daughter had the 
 prettiest curls she ever saw." 
 
 "That was when nurse wanted you to let her put your 
 hair in papers," said Alice, with intense scorn. " Oh, I 
 know ! I know ! Why does Mrs. Veitch's daughter never 
 come to see her mother ? " 
 
 " Because she's very poor, and her husband drinks. 
 Mrs. Veitch always cries when she speaks about her, 
 Jessie was telling me last night when she was doing my 
 hair. And I said I thought she must be very dull, living 
 at the Lodge all alone; and Jessie said she thought so too." 
 
 "I don't believe she is a bit dull," said Alice. "Why 
 should she be? She's got a quiet house; that's what nurse
 
 THE DISCUSSION ENDED. 13 
 
 is always talking about. A quiet house ! I'm sick of 
 hearing of it. Isn't she always telling us we split her 
 head with our racket, and bidding us go and sit down and 
 let folk have a little peace and quietness 1 Mrs. Veitch 
 has peace and quietness, and nobody to make a racket and 
 split her head. "What more can she want 1 " 
 
 "But Mrs. Veitch is very fond of talking," persisted 
 Lina, "for when she's at our house she keeps talking 
 straight on. I've heard her sometimes in the kitchen, and 
 she never seemed to stop. Now, at homo she has no one 
 to talk to at all, and I'm afraid she must be miserable. 
 I'm very sorry for her." 
 
 " You're sorry for her because she's got no one to talk 
 to?" 
 
 " Yes," said Lina, half apologetically ; " when one is 
 very fond of talking, you know, it must be a little hard 
 to have no one to listen to you. At least, I should think 
 so ; don't you 1 " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " returned Alice, who was determined to 
 have no sympathy with the supposed woes of Mrs. Veitch, 
 which moved Lina's more tender heart ; " I say nonsense, 
 Lina ! Let her speak to her hens ; I am sure she has 
 plenty of them, and they cackle enough." 
 
 How much longer Mrs. Veitch and her affairs might 
 have been the theme of discussion is uncertain, for here the 
 necessity of climbing a paling and getting down a steep 
 bank put an end to all continued conversation for a time. 
 Could Fraulein Stauer, who was even then dropping into a 
 quiet sleep in her peaceful chamber at Hopefield, have had 
 a vision for a moment of the spot which her pupils had 
 chosen for their ramble, no amount of darkness, quietness, 
 or red flannel could have had the leasl effect in soothing her 
 distracted nerves. But, happily for her neuralgia, and her
 
 14 A PLEASANT SCENE. 
 
 peace of mind and body in general, though she had heard 
 some proposal about primrose roots, it never occurred to her 
 that they were to be found by the river; far less that the 
 place in which they grew most abundantly was a high and 
 precipitous bank, where a single false step might cause a 
 fall to the bottom, and very probably into the water itself. 
 But Alice and Lina, eager for the beautification of their 
 gardens, to which they were in the way of paying violent 
 and spasmodic attentions, risked lives and limbs without a 
 thought of danger and wrong-doing. It was solely for con- 
 venience, and not at all for safety, that they did not trust 
 themselves altogether to their feet, but made their hands 
 take a full share in supporting them as they scrambled up 
 and down. The idea of growing giddy or nervous would 
 have seemed very laughable to them ; indeed, it was pro- 
 bably their utter unconsciousness of danger that kept them 
 unharmed. The brambles scratched their faces and caught 
 their hair, their clothes became plastered with mud, and so 
 did their hands j but these things did not mar their plea- 
 sure in the least — perhaps, indeed, they rather increased it. 
 
 Everything was very beautiful round about the children. 
 Autumn had just begun, and the leaves had not fallen yet, 
 though they were brilliant now with gold and crimson. 
 Alice and Lina had left the dark fir-trees behind them in 
 the avenue, and the foliage thick above their heads was all 
 aglow in the sunshine. It was only here and there they 
 could see through it up to the clear blue of the sky. Be- 
 neath them rolled the river, darker and fuller than it had 
 been for long, making a deep, pleasant sound as it rushed 
 over the stones which had been all uncovered in the 
 summer-time. 
 
 I do not mean that all this contributed to Alice and 
 Lina's pleasure, or at least that they were conscious of its
 
 THE HEIGHT OF ENJOYMENT. 15 
 
 doing so. Very few children, and those only of a very 
 imaginative and artistic temperament, have much apprecia- 
 tion of the beauties of Nature; and the two Hopes were 
 by no means remarkable or precocious girls. Even to 
 Lina, who was much the more thoughtful and sensitive, 
 the glories of the sky and the sunshine, the wood and the 
 river, only brought a vague idea that everything was very 
 nice that day, and somehow the place where they were 
 was remarkably pleasant. 
 
 " If Fraulein would only come here sometimes, instead of 
 always walking on roads, how much nicer it would be ! " 
 
 Alice was unable to speak just then, for she had lost her 
 footing and was sliding rapidly down the bank. But she 
 made a desperate clutch at a neighbouring bush to stay her 
 progress; and having succeeded in getting hold of it with 
 both hands, she made answer emphatically, " I'm sure it 
 would do her a great deal of good ! " 
 
 " Her headaches would be ever so much better," con- 
 tinued Lina. " I think I should soon be ill, if I sat work- 
 ing, or writing long, long letters as she does. She ought to 
 have come here instead of going to bed." 
 
 " She'll never come," said Alice ; and Lina, however 
 much disposed to regret the folly of her governess, could 
 not take it upon her to say that there was any likelihood 
 of her being persuaded to take their view of the matter. 
 Both children felt it would be wise to enjoy their scramble 
 to the full that day. It was not at all likely they would 
 be allowed to have such another again. 
 
 " Lally, down there in that Hat place by the water, in 
 among the long grass, — do you see where I mean?" 
 
 " Not a bit. I'm in the middle of a big bramble-bush, 
 and I can't turn my head." 
 
 " There's something very queer there — moving ! "
 
 1 G WHAT CAN IT BE 1 
 
 " Oh — Sam, of course." 
 
 " No, it isn't. Sam swam across the river (a while ago 
 I see him chasing rabbits in a field at the other side." 
 
 " Have you got the basket, Lina 1 " 
 
 "Yes. I wish I knew what that thing was." 
 
 " You may keep it ; I'm going to put my roots in my 
 handkerchief. How angry nurse will be ! " 
 
 " But that Thing, Lally ! " 
 
 " It'll be the stump of a tree." 
 
 " But it's moving ! " 
 
 " Then it'll be something else." 
 
 "But I wish I knew what." 
 
 " Lina," said Alice, solemnly, " if you go on in that way, 
 I'll begin to think you're frightened in the very daylight." 
 
 This dreadful threat reduced Lina to silence for a time ; 
 but it was not very long before she began again. 
 
 " Lally, it makes me feel so uncomfortable." 
 
 " What 1 " 
 
 " I mean — the Thing." 
 
 Alice was a few feet higher up the bank than Lina, 
 standing upright now in the midst of a clump of brambles, 
 deliberately untwisting her hair from the thorny branches 
 round which it had wound itself. 
 
 "Look here, Lina," said she; "I'm coming out of this 
 immediately, and then I'll see — and I'm pretty sure that 
 I'll find out that your Thing is just nothing at all." 
 
 " Be quick, then," said Lina excitedly. " It's alive ! it's 
 moving ! I see it perfectly ! " 
 
 Out came Alice at last with a crash from the bushes, 
 leaving some of her hair and a piece of her dress behind 
 her. Crouched on a ledge of rock, her face white and her 
 hands trembling with the nervous excitement into which 
 she had worked herself, Lina was awaiting her sister.
 
 THE MYSTERY SOLVED. 17 
 
 Down among the rushes, close by the river, was the mys- 
 terious moving Thing which had roused her curiosity, — a 
 thing not very large, and of uncertain shape, bobbing up 
 and down, backwards and forwards, with an irregular 
 motion. 
 
 " There it is, Alice ; don't you see 1 There — there ! " 
 
 Alice did see, but was inclined to waste no more words 
 upon it. There was no possibility now of denying the 
 Thing's existence ; all that remained to be done was to find 
 out what it was, and that as soon as possible. She made 
 scarcely a halt at Lina's side, then went down the bank, 
 steering her course directly for the marsh and reeds where 
 the Thing lay hid. 
 
 Pamning down a steep hill is perhaps as safe a way of 
 descending as any, — that is to say, if you are sure of being 
 able to stop yourself when you reach the bottom. This 
 Alice successfully accomplished, by embracing a tree when 
 she found herself close to the narrow rim of level ground 
 which bordered the river. Lina came down immediately 
 after, by the peculiarly safe if somewhat undignified method 
 of sitting down and letting herself slip. She had not had 
 courage to begin investigations about the thing by herself, 
 but where Alice led Lina was sure to follow. But when 
 they came near enough to see distinctly, both stood still in 
 amazement ; for the Thing was a little child. 
 
 A little child of three or four years of age, seated on the 
 fallen trunk of a tree, the long grass and the rushes making 
 a frame about her. It was a curious, quaint little picture 
 out of which she looked up at her visitors with very large 
 dark eyes, and an expression of grave interest on the tiny 
 face, round which the autumn wind was blowing short 
 rings of curly brown hair. She neither spoke nor moved 
 at first, and Alice and Lina were still too. They gazed at. 
 
 2
 
 IS NOT A FAIRY. 
 
 each other so for a while, but all the surprise and bewilder- 
 ment were on the part of the Hopes. TBls little maiden 
 whom they had discovered, all by her herself, and far from 
 human habitation, was so perfectly calm and composed that 
 Lina, who was more familiar with fairy lore than any other 
 branch of literature, thought of forest-elves and water- 
 sprites, with a return of her former uneasiness. To be sure, 
 a tartan frock and white pinafore were not exactly orthodox 
 fairy costume ; but then, on the other hand, Alice and Lina 
 were acquainted, at least by sight, with all the mortal chil- 
 dren in the country for miles round. Who, then, was this 
 unknown little one, enthroned on the tree by the side of 
 the running water ] 
 
 But while they stood and considered, the Thing moved at 
 last. The wee mouth relaxed into a faint smile ; and, like 
 a queen graciously holding out her sceptre in token of en- 
 couragement to her hesitating petitioners, she stretched out 
 one little hand with a spray of wild rose-leaves and red 
 berries. 
 
 " Who are you % " said Alice, moving nearer then. 
 " What's your name, and where do you come from 1 " 
 
 She got no answer at all, however, even when she came 
 near enough to touch the child. All the effect of the 
 question was that the little one turned her eyes more on 
 Lina, who had hung back silently, and kept holding out 
 her wand to her. 
 
 " What's your name 1 " repeated Alice again, laying her 
 hand on the tartan sleeve. " Tell us your name. You 
 know you have one. What is it 1 " 
 
 The dark eyes wandered from one to another, and then 
 lighted up with something very like laughter. But the 
 Thing remained obstinately silent. 
 
 " What do they call you 1 " asked Alice, trying to vary
 
 AN EMBARRASSING SILENCE. 19 
 
 her question a little. " Everybody's called something ; 
 what are you called 1 ? Well, if you won't tell us your 
 own name, tell us your father's." 
 
 All in vain ; and Alice, after a few more ineffectual at- 
 tempts, turned to her sister in despair. " The child is 
 either deaf and dumb, or she's an idiot," said she. 
 
 The matter-of-fact tone in which Alice uttered these 
 words did more to dispel Una's fancies than anything else 
 could have done. This little creature was, after all, no 
 water-spirit mourning for want of a soul, no evil witch 
 who might turn human beings into fawns or eagles by a 
 touch of her wand, not even a benevolent fairy ready to 
 offer them three wishes on the spot ; it was only a strayed 
 child, who either could not or would not tell to whom it 
 belonged. The first feeling was certainly relief, but it was 
 immediately followed in Lina's mind by a great rush of 
 pity, as she reflected that Alice's words might be true. 
 She could not but think that this little one had left baby- 
 hood far enough behind her to be able to hold communica- 
 tion with her fellow-creatures by ordinary speech — unless 
 there was something seriously wrong with her. 
 
 Had Lina been more accustomed to children, she would 
 probably have had some experience of the form shyness 
 takes in some; moving them to maintain a perfect and em- 
 barrassing silence, in spite of all attempts on the part of 
 strangers at coaxing and questioning. But the Hopes did 
 not know much of any one younger than themselves ; so 
 when Alice's question remained unanswered, their wonder 
 gave way to sorrow, — which, on Lina's side at least, was 
 very keen. 
 
 " Oh, poor little thing !" said she earnestly; "poor little 
 thing ! O Lally, I'm so very sorry !" 
 
 " So am I," was the brief answer.
 
 20 MORE MYSTERY. 
 
 "How could she have got here 1 And that branch — does 
 she mean to give it to us 1 " 
 
 But here, to their utter astonishment, the little Thing 
 opened its lips, and a small shrill voice made answer in the 
 Scottish tongue and with considerable emphasis, — 
 
 "Ay!" 
 
 " Oh, thank you," said Lina, after a moment's pause of 
 delight and embarrassment; "thank you very much. Will 
 you give me a kiss 1 " 
 
 The "Ay" was not so distinct this time; but it did 
 come, and the little face was uplifted for the caress. Lina 
 put her lips to the child's brow as she took the branch in 
 her hand, the pale gold of her own hair sweeping the 
 brown cheek of the little one as she kissed her. Mean- 
 while Alice stood beside, watching — to do her justice, not 
 at all vexed that her sister seemed successful where she 
 had failed. Only, she was not the least sentimental ; and 
 when Lina turned round to her with shining eyes and the 
 rose-berries in her hand, she urged the practical side of the 
 matter upon her strongly. To fondle little lost children 
 and receive love-tokens from them was all very well, but 
 restoring them to then- homes was, after all, the most im- 
 portant thing, Alice thought. 
 
 " We can't leave her to be drowned or catch cold ; we 
 must take her back to her people ; she must have some 
 friends somewhere. You ask her name, Lina, and see if 
 she will answer yon." 
 
 But when Lina tried, she was as unsuccessful as Alice 
 had been before ; and the cloud of mystery which had 
 seemed about to be dissolved gathered again as thick as 
 ever. The little Thing remained obstinately silent. When 
 Lina cpiestioned coaxingly, she held out her hand to feel 
 her dress and play with her hair; when Alice lost patience
 
 THE SISTERS IN COUNCIL. 21 
 
 and began to scold, she pouted her lips and tried to push her 
 away; finally, when the two sisters had exhausted all their 
 powers of persuasion, she turned from them both, and 
 began pulling rushes and twisting them together, as if she 
 had quite forgotten their presence. 
 
 Alice and Lina felt their situation decidedly embarrass- 
 ing. They were not very clever at guessing time, but they 
 were sure that the hour for the early dinner at Hopefield 
 was fast approaching, and they were bound in honour to 
 their governess not to be late. Yet here they were, a mile 
 from home, with the entire responsibility of this baby's 
 safety on their shouldei-s. To leave her was, as Alice said, 
 impossible ; and they did not know how to take her back 
 to her friends. 
 
 "We must take her to Hopefield," said Alice at last. 
 "There's nothing for it but to take her home with us." 
 
 " But what will Fraulein say, and nurse, and papa and 
 mamma when they come home 1 " 
 
 " Can't be helped what they say ; there's nothing else to 
 be done." 
 
 So said Alice, and Lina made no further objection ; 
 indeed, her suggestions about the displeasure of the elders 
 had been intended merely as a sort of prophecy of what 
 would inevitably occur, for to her too it seemed necessary 
 that the little one should go home with them. Besides, 
 though she had been obliged to come down from the 
 regions of Fairyland, where she had felt herself only a little 
 before, this unwonted adventure could still only find its 
 parallel in her beloved world of stories ; and, for her own 
 consolation and Alice's, she remarked in an eager whisper, 
 that adopting children was a very common thing for the 
 "people in books" to do. Alice nodded her head in assent 
 and satisfaction.
 
 22 " MINISTERING " BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 To tell either of the children that the people in books 
 were not real people, would have seemed to them equally 
 absurd and untrue. Those young inhabitants of the neigh- 
 bouring country-houses, whom they saw perhaps once or 
 twice in a year for a few minutes at a time, were indeed 
 curious and unknown creatures ; but the " ministering " 
 boys and girls — " Rosa," the little Parisian, " Mr. Ruther- 
 ford's children," and many such others — were friends who 
 were always near and dear. Why, Alice and Lina had 
 climbed heathery hills with Cousin Kate's enthusiastic 
 heroines ; they had spent many a wet afternoon swinging 
 and singing with Sybil and Chryssa in the garret at Rose- 
 hill ; they had looked with longing eyes on the good things 
 in Miss Fortune's buttery ; they had wandered on many 
 an exploring expedition through tropical forests with the 
 Swiss Family Robinson. The words of that great and 
 glorious assembly within the glass doors of the schoolroom 
 bookcase were household words to the Hopes; their habits 
 and the customs of their daily life were all familiar ; any 
 little peculiarity of dress or manner was carefully studied, 
 pondered, and discussed. Alice and Lina were hardly 
 more real to each other than the people in books seemed to 
 them. 
 
 And now, as one instance after another occurred to them 
 of homes being opened up by these friends of theirs to 
 helpless little waifs and strays, their own duty appeared 
 plainer and plainer. " These things generally happen at 
 the sea-side," said Lina ; " but then this is a river — " 
 
 " So it is," said Alice, understanding that a river was 
 next best. " No doubt about it, we must take her 
 home." 
 
 " Perhaps we may get too fond of her, and be sorry to 
 part with her when her own relations come," suggested
 
 DECIDING HER FATE. 23 
 
 Lina, remembering that this was generally the case in the 
 circumstances. 
 
 " Must give her up, all the same !" said Alice, in firm 
 determination to avoid the selfishness into which the 
 guardians of her acquaintance were apt to fall, thereby 
 separating the child of their adoption from its parents, and 
 spinning out the story of its adventures for a considerable 
 length of time. " Must give her up to her real mother as 
 soon as ever we find her out. If she's alive, she won't find 
 it difficult to know her child, either ; red tartan frocks are 
 not so very common." 
 
 " And I never saw such black, big eyes," said Lina ; 
 " they won't change, either, whatever else does, when she 
 grows up." 
 
 While her fate was being th\;s decided by the sisters, 
 the little girl herself, paying no apparent attention to them, 
 sat trying to plait the rushes in her tiny fingers. She had 
 heeded their words so little before, that Alice was by no 
 means s\ire of her obedience now, though she spoke 
 authoritatively, as she came near her, and said, — " You 
 must come along with us, you little Thing. We're going to 
 take you to our home, so get up and give one hand to Lina 
 and the other to me." Rather to her astonishment, how- 
 ever, the little Thing rose immediately, took hold of her 
 extended hand, and stretched out for Lina's, seeming quite 
 ready and willing to accompany them wherever they might 
 choose. 
 
 It was, however, no easy matter to get her up the bank ; 
 Alice and Lina were afraid for the child where they had 
 not feared for themselves. They found a place where the 
 slope was more gentle than where they had descended, and 
 they proceeded very slowly and carefully on their upward 
 journey, hoisting their charge over roots of trees, removing
 
 24 A SILENT WALK. 
 
 stones from her path, and protecting her from the thorns 
 and overhanging branches at the expense of their own 
 hands and faces. Getting down was certainly much easier 
 than getting up ; yet they could not help wondering that 
 the little Thing had reached the bottom in safety, if she 
 came there without any help. At present she seemed 
 rather to enjoy her manner of progress, though Alice and 
 Lina were tired enough before they lifted her over the 
 fence by the side of the high-road. 
 
 " Safe at last ! " exclaimed Lina in thankfulness then. 
 " I had no idea little children were so heavy. How old 
 do you think she must be, Lally 1 " 
 
 " If she would speak, perhaps she could tell us," was the 
 answer. 
 
 But the little Thing had no intention of speaking. Once 
 set free from the hands which had held her so firmly all 
 the way up the bank, she set off at a brisk trot in the 
 direction of Hopefield, turning thitherward of her own 
 accord. The Hopes could only follow in bewilderment and 
 exhaustion, while she looked round and smiled encourag- 
 ingly to them every now and then. The little Thing seemed 
 to think it was she who was leading Alice and Lina home. 
 
 As for them, they walked on in silence, each busy with 
 her own thoughts : Alice resolving how to bear herself 
 boldly before the anger and dismay of her governess and 
 the servants, when this new inmate was introduced into 
 the mansion ; and Lina, busy making arrangements for the 
 comfort of the child, planning where she was to sleep, and 
 who would take care of her when her sister and herself were 
 otherwise occupied. Alice had made up her mind that it 
 would be strange indeed if she, the eldest daughter, could 
 not get her will in the Hopefield house; and Lina had 
 settled that a little bed could be easily put up in their
 
 LITTLE NELLY. 25 
 
 room, and that, as the child was so quiet, she might per- 
 haps be with them even at lesson-hours, — when the party 
 arrived at the Lodge gate. All difficulties seemed smoothed 
 away by that time, and it was with real delight that the 
 two little sisters saw their foundling trot up to the iron 
 gate and tug at it vigorously. 
 
 " It's very funny ! It's very nice ! She wants to go in ! 
 She means to belong to us ! Here, you little Thing, — our 
 little Thing, — the gate's too heavy for you. Let me open 
 it for you. Oh, there's Mrs. Veitch ! " 
 
 It was indeed Mrs. Veitch of the stiff white cap and 
 shining red face who appeared on the scene from within ; 
 and, to the intense consternation of Alice and Lina, she 
 uttered a cry of joyful recognition. In another second the 
 gate was open, and her arms were round the little Thing, 
 who clung with both hands to the old woman's blue petti- 
 coat, while she turned round to peep at her former pro- 
 tectors. 
 
 The Hopes could find no voice to say anything for a little, 
 while Mrs. Veitch was kissing and crying over the child 
 they had found. She had got past the pathetic stage, and 
 begun to scold in a weak, incoherent way, before Lina 
 asked, " Is she yours 1 Ts she your little girl, Mrs. 
 Veitch 1 " 
 
 " It's little Nelly, — it's Helen's girlie. O bairn, bairn, 
 whaur hae ye been, and me seekin' ye these twa hours 1 " 
 
 " Does she belong to you, then 1 " asked Alice in a tone 
 of exasperation, which startled Mrs. Veitch considerably. 
 
 " It's my grandchild, Miss Hope — my daughter's bairn ; 
 she—" 
 
 " Would have been drowned if we hadn't come. Might 
 have been dead by this time, very likely. You ought to 
 take better care of her, Mrs. Veitch."
 
 2G MATTERS EXPLAINED. 
 
 All Mrs. Veitcli's powers of eloquence — and they were 
 by no means small — were driven away, either by Alice's 
 abrupt manner or by the thought of her grand-daughter's 
 danger. She fell a-crying and cuddling the little Thing 
 again, while Alice looked on grimly, and Lina took pity 
 upon her. 
 
 " It was all right when we came, but it was well we did. 
 We found her all by herself, close to the river, and she 
 would not tell us who she was; but we took as good cai'e 
 of her as we could ; and it was well we found her and 
 brought her home," said Lina, trying to soothe and ex- 
 plain. " She's quite safe and well, not a bit hurt. It was 
 a good thing we happened to go there." 
 
 " I should rather say it was," quoth Alice. And the 
 terrible emphasis with which she made this remark, entirely 
 deprived her sister's woi-ds of any consolation they might 
 have brought to Mrs. Veitch's heart. 
 
 " Nelly, ye monkey," said the afflicted woman, " I 
 tellt ye no to pit a foot outside the gate ! I tellt ye, ye 
 would mischieve yourself some day, ye awfu' bad lassie ! 
 I'm sure I'm that much obliged to ye, Miss Hope, — and 
 you to tak' so much trouble bringing her home ! " 
 
 " It was no trouble," said Lina ; " we liked to do it. Is 
 she come to stay with you 1 ? Is her name Nelly? She 
 wouldn't tell us when we asked." 
 
 " Yes, miss ; it's Nelly Russell. Look up, my wumman, 
 and tell Miss Lina your name, — tell the young leddies your 
 name, now, like a good lassie." 
 
 " No need of telling her name now we know," said 
 Alice. " If she had told it a little sooner, it might have 
 done some good." 
 
 Mrs. Veitch was confounded again. But Lina, who was 
 quite accustomed to make amends for her sister's incivility,
 
 AN UNFORTUNATE QUESTION. -I 
 
 would try her best even yet, though she had seldom found 
 her task so hard. 
 
 " I hope your daughter's well, Mrs. Veitch 1 " 
 
 But even this question turned out to be unfortunate, for 
 Mrs. Veitch was obliged to put her apron to her eyes be- 
 fore she replied, — 
 
 " 'Deed she's no that, missy ; but weel or ill, she's gotten 
 a place, and the bairn's come to bide wi' me." 
 
 " Oh, I'm very sorry your daughter isn't well," said Lina, 
 sympathizing but uncomfortable. 
 
 " She's just no that strong, Miss Lina. I dinna ken 
 rightly what's wrang, — and trouble's a sore thing." 
 
 On this occasion Mrs. Veitch's powers of weeping seemed 
 far greater than her powers of speech. She had recourse 
 to her apron again, while little Nelly filled up the interval 
 of silence by trying to entice the girls into a game of 
 Bo-peep. But Alice stood apart with downcast eyes and a 
 sullen mouth; while Lina, though sorely tempted to return 
 the little Thing's smiles and nods, had too much respect for 
 the sorrow of the grandmother to give way to any levity 
 just then. She was very doubtful about what was the 
 correct thing to do in the circumstances, — whether to pass 
 over what was evidently a painful subject, or to go on 
 with her questions about Nelly's mother. On the one 
 hand, she was afraid of being considered unfeeling or un- 
 interested ; on the other, of being impertinently curious : 
 but she decided, after some thought, that the former course 
 would be the least dangei'ous, and proceeded to turn the 
 conversation into a more agreeable channel. 
 
 " You must be veiy glad to have your grandchild come 
 to stay with you ; you'll have some one to talk to, and you 
 won't be nearly so lonely now. We'll come again, Mrs. 
 Veitch, and see little Nelly. We must go home now."
 
 28 USELESS INTENTIONS. 
 
 " Will ye no come in and tak' a rest," said Mrs. Veitch, 
 her apron going down and her face appearing in a sudden 
 burst of hospitality. " Come ben the hoose an' tak' a rest, 
 Miss Lina, an' a bit scone. Will ye no come in, Miss 
 Hope 1 " 
 
 " Can't," said Alice briefly ; but Lina hastened to add, 
 " Oh no, thank you ; not to-day, Mrs. Veitch. I like your 
 scones very, very much, but we're just going home to dinner, 
 and I'm afraid we're late already. Alice and I will come 
 again some other day to see you and Nelly." 
 
 " Ye might come in — a minute," said Mrs. Veitch, who, 
 nevertheless, seemed somewhat relieved by their approach- 
 ing departure. " Mak' a courtesy, Nelly, and say ' Thank 
 ye' to the young leddies that brought ye hame. — She just 
 slippit oot when I was washin' up the claes at the back 
 there." 
 
 " You're too fond of washing, Mrs. Veitch," said Alice ; 
 " far too fond of washing. You ought to wash less and 
 mind your grandchild more. Good-bye." And with this 
 the young lady turned round and walked off, leaving Mrs. 
 Veitch in dismay, and Lina overwhelmed with shame. 
 
 Poor Alice ! It was certainly a very hard thing, after 
 being wrought up to a high pitch of benevolence, to find 
 that, after all, her good intentions were entirely useless and 
 unnecessary. She had begun by considering the little 
 foundling a most annoying and embarrassing burden, but 
 before she had reached the Lodge gate on her way home 
 she had come to regard her as a precious charge. She 
 meant to have done so much for the little Thing ! For her 
 sake she would have braved the anger of the household 
 powers ; she would have given her pocket-money to clothe 
 her, her play-time to teach and take care of her. It would 
 have been so delightful to have a child entirely belonging
 
 Alice's ill-humour. 29 
 
 to her and Lina ! And then, just as they were bringing 
 their prize home in triumph, out stepped a stupid old 
 woman, who turned out to be the grandmother, and claimed 
 the little Thing accordingly ; though it seemed to Alice, in 
 her youthful ignorance and harshness of judgment, that she 
 had not enough of natural affection for the child even to 
 take ordinary care of her. So Alice stamped the gravel 
 under her feet in anger and mortification, and told herself 
 that she had done well in being rude to Mrs. Veitch. 
 
 Lina made no attempt to reason with her sister, when 
 she joined her after taking a more polite farewell of the 
 inhabitants of the Lodge, for she knew by experience that 
 Alice's ill-humours wore off most rapidly when she was 
 left to herself. Besides, Lina too had been disappointed, 
 and was able in a measure to understand her feelings ; in 
 one way, indeed, she had suffered more than Alice, for she 
 was a good deal mortified by this very prosaic and common- 
 place ending to the tale of romance she had been weav- 
 ing about the dark-eyed elfin child. To be sure, she had 
 always contemplated giving the little one up — but not so 
 soon ; she meant to keep her till she had grown up through 
 long years into beautiful womanhood ; and it was to some 
 heart-broken mother she was going to yield her claims. 
 Never had it occurred to her that their little Thing could 
 have anything so uninteresting as a grandmother, and that 
 grandmother Mrs. Veitch ! 
 
 Yet Lina, being more timid than Alice, had never been 
 so enthusiastic about the plan of adopting Nelly ; its charms 
 were indeed many, but she had always been conscious of 
 some drawbacks to it, — some difficulties which it might be 
 very troublesome to overcome. Therefore, after the first 
 terrible shock, this sudden change of affairs brought with 
 it something of relief; besides, she had been touched by
 
 30 BACK AT HOPEFIELD. 
 
 Mrs. Veitch's distress, and was unselfish enough to be glad 
 that the lonely old woman should have the pleasure and 
 comfort of little Nelly's company. 
 
 When they reached the bend of the avenue which hid 
 the Lodge from their sight, Lina turned round and saw 
 that Mrs. Veitch and the child were still watching them, 
 and that the grandmother was trying hard to make the 
 little one courtesy to their retreating figures. 
 
 " Do look at her again, Lally, — there, she is smiling to 
 us, dear little. Thing ! " 
 
 Then Alice too looked round ; and there was the old 
 woman, in her snowy cap and blue petticoat, bobbing up 
 and down herself in unavailing attempts to teach her 
 grand-daughter politeness and respect, — while Nelly stood 
 motionless, looking as she did when they saw her first by 
 the river, with the wind blowing among her curls. 
 
 So they parted ; and the Hopes went back to Hopefield 
 all alone, with no further reason for being scolded than 
 lateness for dinner, torn dresses, and muddy boots, — things 
 that were all so very common with them, that they made 
 no particular sensation in the household.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A TALK ABOUT WORK. 
 
 T was on a Saturday that Alice and Lina took that 
 ever-memorable walk by the side of the river, 
 and the morning of the Sunday that followed 
 dawned another beautiful autumn clay. 
 
 The sun was pouring its brightest beams in at the win- 
 dows, when Fraulein Stauer came down to the schoolroom 
 and seated herself rather drearily at the head of the little 
 breakfast-table. Hers was a singularly plain face; dark- 
 complexioned and irregularly-featured — forbidding-looking, 
 indeed, it would have been, but for a certain expression of 
 pathetic patience and good-nature which was over it all. 
 She was not young, and might have passed for any age be- 
 tween thirty-five and fifty; but her heavy figure, and the lines 
 about her face, probably made her look older than she really 
 was; and any attempt to make her dress ornamental, or even 
 becoming, had long ago been given up by her. Her general 
 effect was indeed dismal in the extreme, as she sat mechanic- 
 ally preparing the breakfast; but looking beyond it, through 
 the window, at the sunshiny landscape and clear blue sky. 
 
 The poor German lady was doing her best to be resigned 
 to the cpiietness of a Scotch Sabbath, and there was no 
 doubt that the closed piano, and the lesson books laid aside 
 on the shelves, from which they would not be moved that 
 day, brought a pleasant sense of rest and comfort; but
 
 32 THE NEW FRAULEIN. 
 
 even the relief from wearisome duties gave her thoughts 
 only the more time to wander away in longings for dear * 
 faces which were far off, and happy days in her past life 
 which would never return. 
 
 It is hard enough to struggle against such feelings when 
 one is well and strong, and Miss Stauer had been enervated 
 by several days of constant pain; even now her head 
 was aching dully, and her nerves were all unstrung. The 
 day before her seemed to open but a miserable prospect. 
 She would drive to church with her pupils, but she would 
 scarcely understand a word of the long sermon she would 
 hear there; she would not be able to follow the prayers, 
 the service would seem tedious and comfortless altogether. 
 She might go and lie down in the afternoon ; but the drive 
 would have made her "tic" worse, and she could scarcely 
 hope for rest. She had no one to talk with, no German 
 books to read, nothing but pain and dreariness to look 
 forward to. A wretched thing is home-sickness, and a 
 wretched thing is neuralgia; but when they come together, 
 the case is indeed a bad one. 
 
 Miss Stauer — or, as Alice and Lina called her, the new 
 Fraulein — had not been the children's first governess. She 
 had not been much more than six months with them, and 
 her coming to Hopefield had been the very first visit she 
 had ever paid to Scotland. Her elder sister had taken 
 Alice and Lina out of the nursery and away from the 
 charge of their old nurse about two years before, and it 
 was she who had instructed them in the rudiments of 
 learning, and brought them into something like schoolroom 
 order. The old Fraulein Stauer had been a person of great 
 experience, a governess who had been in many lands and 
 knew many languages, therefore she felt her powers rather 
 wasted on the little Hopes; and when she had learned the
 
 DOLEFUL MUSINGS. 33 
 
 amount of English she had come to gain, she went to 
 commence a school in her own country, and her place at 
 Hopefield was taken by her sister. 
 
 Alice and Lina had been rather afraid of the first 
 Fraulein, and by no means very fond of her. There had 
 been many battles, especially with Alice, during the time 
 she taught them, and they were battles in which the 
 governess always won the victory. In the new reign there 
 had been rebellions too, but they had sometimes been 
 successful, which was a bad thing both for teacher and 
 pupils. Nevertheless, the relations between them were, on 
 the whole, very amiable; and though not so obedient and 
 respectful as they might have been, the children had a 
 sincere affection for Fraulein, and were both only too ready 
 to take her part in any collisions that might occur with 
 nurse; who, though now promoted to the post of house- 
 keeper, was still apt to interfere in anything which related 
 to her former charges. 
 
 In upon Fraulein's doleful musings came Alice now, 
 looking as fresh as the morning itself. She was clad in 
 a dress of navy-blue with trimmings of a paler colour, 
 fashioned with a broad collar and anchor buttons into as 
 close a resemblance to a sailor's as a little girl's costume 
 could well be. But the garb suited her; and as she came 
 forward in her childish beauty to give her morning greet- 
 ing, Fraulein looked all the plainer by the contrast, though 
 her hard-featured face had brightened into a kindly smile. 
 
 " Thou art late, AH," said the governess in German, as 
 Alice bent down a soft face and a cloud of golden hair for 
 a moment to her cheek. 
 
 " It matters nothing," was the answer in the same 
 language. " No lessons to-day. I hope the porridge is 
 not cold. I hate it when it is cold. How is your head 1 " 
 
 (5C4) 3
 
 34 A KINDLY SPIRIT. 
 
 The question was asked in a tone of the utmost indiffer- 
 ence, and Alice seemed too much occupied in helping her- 
 self to porridge at the side-table to care for or even ex- 
 pect an answer. And Fraulein remembered with a sigh 
 that she was among strangers, to whom she and her 
 ailments were matters of only secondary consideration. 
 Perhaps she was exacting and unreasonable, in expecting 
 sympathy from a child; but then she had only children to 
 appeal to. Besides, for the honour of little girls, it must be 
 said that there are some as tender and full of tact as any 
 woman could be. But such are doubtless the exception, 
 not the rule; and Alice Hope was, as I have said before, 
 in no way remarkable for particular virtue or good sense 
 of any kind. 
 
 So gloom settled over Fraulein again till Lina entered — 
 another edition of her sister as far as dress was concerned, 
 but, oh ! how different in manner ! She too asked about 
 the headache, but she asked first of all; and she waited for 
 an answer, seeming really interested to know how the pain 
 was, and whether Fraulein had slept well. " It's such a 
 lovely day, Fraulein, the drive to church will be sure to 
 do you good." And whatever opinion might be entertained 
 about the truth of her remark, there could be only one 
 about the kindliness of the spirit which prompted it. 
 " Lally, Fraulein is going to speak English to-day, because 
 it's Sunday." 
 
 " And Toodlekins is going to have some cream to her 
 porridge because it's Sunday. Mayn't she have some, 
 Fraulein 1 " 
 
 " Do not play with Toodlekins now, Alice. Thou art 
 already late. See, I have finished my breakfast." 
 
 " Oh ! it matters nothing. It is Sunday." 
 
 "But why later on Sunday? So it is always in Scot-
 
 EVERY COUNTRY HAS ITS CUSTOMS. 35 
 
 land ; but in Germany one would have returned from 
 church by this time." 
 
 " I think Germany must be a horrid place," said Alice 
 coolly. 
 
 " You are wise, Alice," said Fraulein, in a tone which 
 she endeavoured to make one of calm irony, — "very wise, 
 to speak so of a land which you have not seen." 
 
 " But from what you tell us of it, I know." 
 
 Alice had relapsed into her native language, and Fraulein 
 decided that it was wiser and more dignified to pretend not 
 to understand. But her agreeable pupil showed a mind to 
 proceed. 
 
 •'' In Germany they don't keep Sunday at all; if they go 
 to church in the morning, they do nothing else that's good. 
 In the afternoon they dance and play games, and go to 
 concerts, and have a holiday. It's very wrong." 
 
 " Every country has its customs," said Fraulein, annoyed. 
 
 "And husbands and wives don't choose each other in 
 Germany ; it's the fathers and the mothers that arrange 
 all the marriages. That's a very bad thing too." 
 
 " There are worse customs, Ali," said Fraulein, regaining 
 her good-humour in her amusement at the miscellaneous 
 accusations made against her country. 
 
 " And every second person is a prince or a professor." 
 
 " There thou art wrong," said Fraulein, taking fire again 
 at this allusion to what she considered a vile calumny often 
 brought up against her country. " There thou art wrong 
 indeed. A prince or a professor! Be silent, child; thou 
 knowest nothing at all." 
 
 "And the Euiperor William's a horrid creature," con- 
 tinued Alice, bringing her list of the national evils of 
 Germany to a triumphant conclusion without heeding her 
 governess's order for silence. Then she seemed to be
 
 3G MATTER FOR MIRTH. 
 
 entirely occupied in showing how much bread and butter 
 it was possible to consume after a good-sized plateful of 
 porridge; while Fraulein herself relapsed into silence, feel- 
 ing worried and sore at her pupil's remarks, but conscious, 
 nevertheless, that it was only ridiculous to show her 
 vexation. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't go on in that way," said Lina 
 under her breath. " "What makes you do it 1 " 
 
 " It's such fun," said Alice with all her heart. And 
 then she burst into such a rollicking laugh, that all Lina's 
 sympathy for her governess could not keep her from join- 
 ing; and after a minute Fniulein's own face relaxed, and 
 she smiled, though she shook her head. 
 
 "You make too moch noise; it is ze Sabbats-day," she 
 said, giving her admonition in all good faith, and with a 
 conscientious endeavour to do in Scotland as the Scotch do. 
 
 But her pronunciation of the unfamiliar English words 
 only made additional matter for mirth ; and when the risible 
 faculties of the children were excited, it was not easy to 
 culm them. 
 
 " Say it again, Fraulein ! say it again !" they begged her. 
 " Oh, please, say ' Sabbath' once again !" 
 
 So she tried, making a still slower and more painful effort 
 at the ill ; and being still more unsuccessful, the shouts of 
 laughter were redoubled. 
 
 " Wow, Fraulein, say ' Frith of Forth.' " 
 
 But Fraulein declined to be a laughing-stock any longer. 
 She might have said that the joke was a poor one, and that 
 it was silly as well as rude to laugh at any one's blunders 
 in a foreign language : or she might have told them that 
 she could find enough that was ridiculous in their ungram- 
 matical German, if she chose to look at it in that light ; 
 and that their mistakes sounded quite as absurd to her
 
 AN OVERTURE OF PEACE. 37 
 
 when they used her native tongue, as her rolling r's and 
 lisping ttis could possibly do to them. But probably she 
 considered that such explanations were not worth her while ; 
 and I rather think she was right. There are some things 
 which can never be taught ; if children ever learn them, 
 they must do it by themselves. So Fraulein made no at- 
 tempt just then to show her pupils the virtues of gentleness 
 and consideration ; she only turned away from them in dis- 
 pleasure, and left them to recover their gravity as best they 
 might. After all, they were not very long about it ; for 
 they had been too well trained in Presbyterian principles 
 by nurse not to think anything like noisy mirth on the 
 Lord's-day a sin. 
 
 They finished their breakfast quietly enough, with some 
 feelings of horror at their own conduct, and some of dis- 
 comfort about then- governess's ; for silent anger is always 
 the most impressive, as one never knows what may be be- 
 hind it. It was Lina, Fraulein's favourite, who ventured 
 at last to break the silence, and made her request, — partly 
 as an overture of peace to the offended lady, partly from a 
 desire on her own part to spend the rest of the Sunday 
 morning more profitably, — 
 
 " I wish you would read us a hymn out of your Gesang- 
 buch, Fraulein, please." 
 
 And Fraulein, willing to be pacified, and sure of her 
 ground when she used her mother-tongue, took up the Ger- 
 man hymn-book — which never lay far beyond her reach — 
 and began to read aloud. It was by no very particular 
 intention that she chose a Resurrection-hymn : and yet it 
 was wonderfully appropriate to the morning; for surely all 
 Nature was bright on that first day of the week when 
 the Son of man rose from his tomb in the quiet garden, 
 and the hearts of those who loved him could scarcely
 
 38 THE BIBLE-READING. 
 
 believe, in the greatness of their joy. And now, while sky 
 unci trees and distant hills were shining, there came to the 
 thoughtless children something of the solemn peace which 
 the blessed morning ought to bring ; and their governess 
 remembered that the joy of the Lord's-day had a deeper 
 foundation than home-pleasures or the love of the dearest 
 earthly friends. So, with the calm of the hymn in their 
 hearts, they commenced the simple service which they went 
 through daily in the schoolroom. Together they knelt 
 down, and Alice and Lina bowed their golden heads as 
 they repeated the Lord's Prayer after their governess in 
 German, where surely the words sound peculiai'ly solemn. 
 Then came a chapter of the Bible, which the children read 
 verse about in English, while Fraulein was provided with 
 a Testament where the German version was printed along- 
 side the other. And as they sat at the window, their 
 voices mingled with the far-away sound of the river, and 
 the songs of the birds, who were singing as if, in the 
 brightness of the morning, they too felt something of the 
 Resurrection gladness. 
 
 In one thing alone had nurse's lessons to the children 
 been the same as Fraulein's — they had both tried to teach 
 them to honour the Word of God. And their pains had 
 not been taken in vain. Alice and Lina might be careless, 
 obstinate, or tearful over their other studies ; but in read- 
 ing the Holy Book they were always — at least outwardly — 
 reverent and attentive. To-day they were reading of work- 
 to be done for the risen Lord : the parable of the vineyard 
 for which the master was seeking labourers — of the idlers 
 standing in the market-place — of the reckoning-time in the 
 quiet of the evening when all the labour was clone. Slowly 
 and carefully the little girls went through the story, Misa 
 Stauer following them by moans of her German translation.
 
 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 39 
 
 When they were done, they still sat with their Bibles in 
 their hands, gazing, with grave, absent eyes, down the fir- 
 bordered west avenue. 
 
 "Can you tell me who is meant by the householder 1 ?" 
 questioned Fraulein, after the childish voices had been 
 silent for a little. 
 
 " It is the Lord," said Lina softly. 
 
 " Who are meant by the labourers 1 " 
 
 " Us, I suppose," Alice answered ; " I mean, other 
 people." 
 
 " The good God would have all work for him, Ali. What 
 did the master say to those who stood and did nothing?" 
 
 " I suppose Lina and I are in the market-place," said 
 Alice, rather suddenly, and making no direct answer to her 
 governess's question. 
 
 " My child, why do you think that?" 
 
 " If the Lord Jesus were to come and ask us, ' Why 
 stand ye here all the day idle?' do you know what we should 
 have to say?" 
 
 The open personal application was so unusual at the 
 Bible-readings, that Fraulein was surprised and touched. 
 But not exactly understanding the child's thought, not even 
 sure that she had rightly apprehended her English words, 
 she hesitated what reply to make; and it was Lina who 
 asked — 
 
 " What could you say, Alice?" 
 
 " I should say, Because there's nothing for me to do. 
 I could say nothing else." 
 
 "Child," said Fraulein, very gravely and gently, "no 
 one may answer the good God so." 
 
 " But if it is the truth, Fraulein?" 
 
 "It cannot be the truth, Alice, for the Lord has work 
 for all."
 
 40 WORK FOR THE CHILDREN. 
 
 " But not for Alice and me," said Lina, very eagerly. 
 " I think he has for everybody else ; but not for Alice and 
 me. I've thought about it often before now ; and our text 
 this morning was, ' The night cometh, when no man can 
 work.' And oh, Fraulein, I'm afraid our night will perhaps 
 come before we have done any work ! But how can Lally 
 and I help it, when we have nothing to do?" 
 
 " There is work for the children too, my Lina." 
 
 "Yes, for some children, perhaps; but not for Alice 
 and me." 
 
 " For the children in books," said Alice. " In books 
 people are sure to find something to do whenever they 
 want it ; and sometimes even when they don't. Yes, 
 you're right about the people in books, Fraulein ; there are 
 ever so many of them that did good, children and all 
 There was Ethel May ; she built a church all by herself. 
 Well, not exactly that ; but she was at the bottom of it. 
 That was something worth, now ! And Herbert Clifford 
 built a cottage for old Willy. And little Jane darned 
 stockings for Mercy Jones, and bought her a new suit of 
 clothes with her pennies. And, — who else was there, 
 Lina?" 
 
 " It is ever stoi-ies with thee and Lina," said Fraulein, 
 smiling ; " but we are in the world. Yet — " 
 
 " Well, then, in the world, if you like," interrupted 
 Alice. " But it's all the same, Fraulein ; everybody has 
 something to do except us. Papa and mamma can do ever 
 so much good, if they like. And nurse ! — she can give 
 soup and jelly to poor people. Cross old creature ! she 
 doesn't do it half enough. But she might, if she chose ; I 
 know mamma likes her to." 
 
 " And Jessie goes and sees her old father, and takes 
 him presents," chimed in Lina ; " he's always so glad to see
 
 TALKED DOWN. 41 
 
 her, she says. And I'm sure some of the other servants 
 help their relations too." 
 
 " Besides all the work they do for us," said Alice ; " fancy 
 what we should do without them ! Oh yes, the servants 
 do a great deal of good ; no doubt about that. And even 
 you, Fraulein ! you teach us lessons ; though I'm sure that 
 isn't much good." 
 
 " You see, Fraulein ! you see !" said Lina, taking up the 
 complaint again as her sister dropped it ; " it's all true what 
 Alice says. Everybody else can do some work, if they like ; 
 but Alice and I are no good to any one in the whole world." 
 
 Fraulein had been fairly talked down by her pupils. 
 But Lina's last speech ended with a sob ; and there was a 
 little pause while she turned away her head and struggled 
 with | her tears. Fraulein was profoundly touched by the 
 children's lament. In her kindly heart the rudeness which 
 had annoyed her only a little while before was all forgotten ; 
 her headache and her loneliness seemed to have passed 
 away. She only remembered that Alice and Lina had said 
 they were nothing to any one in the world ; and that the 
 mother to whom they would have been so much had passed 
 away from her little daughters before they could understand 
 her love. 
 
 Fraulein had always been the most indulgent of gover- 
 nesses ; but now it seemed to her that she had judged her 
 pupils harshly : they ought to be blamed for none of the 
 faults which had grown upon them in their desolate child- 
 hood. True, they were very unmanageable ; but surely 
 that was her fault — she had not loved them enough. No 
 one could fill up the dead mother's vacant place : all that 
 could be done was to pity the children, and be very gentlo 
 and patient with (hem; too gentle and patient it was im- 
 possible to be.
 
 42 DOING REAL WORK. 
 
 Fraulein took Lina's hand and fondled it between her 
 own. " Are my children nothing to me 1 " she said. " I 
 would be dull indeed without the dear Alice and Lina." 
 
 Lina returned the caress affectionately. But Alice made 
 a little stamp of impatience: anything approaching senti- 
 ment always irritated her; moreover, it seemed that they 
 were wandering away from the point. 
 
 " Oh yes, yes ! But I don't mean that at all. Of course, 
 everybody is some good to somebody in some sort of a way; 
 they can't help it. If Lina and I were to die, I dare say 
 there are a good many people would miss us, for that 
 matter. Jessie would have to go away, for one. I don't 
 think mamma would keep her, for all the need she has of 
 her. Then what would her father do 1 And I dare say 
 nurse would miss us when she had nobody to scold. She'd 
 get crosser, at any rate; for I'm sure it does her some good 
 to let it out. If she bottled up all her ill-temper, I'm sure 
 it would be bad for her; it would make her ill. For she 
 daren't scold mamma very much, though I know she'd like 
 to ; and she would never get the half of it out on the ser- 
 vants. Yes, we must do some good to nurse ; but that's 
 not in the way I mean." 
 
 Friiulein, decidedly shocked with Alice's forcible language, 
 could only say, — " Thou must not talk so. Nurse is indeed 
 good, and loves you both." 
 
 Alice took no notice, however. " Nurse and Jessie," 
 said she, counting on her lingers — " nurse and Jessie, and 
 you say, you — that makes three. Perhaps there may be 
 more, though, but I don't know — three, any way ; only, 
 that's not at all what I mean. I mean, doing real work ; 
 I mean, doing work you choose for yourself, or that comes 
 to you — doing it because it's right, and to please God, and 
 to help other people. That's what I call working in the
 
 THE CHILDREN'S WISH. 43 
 
 vineyard. And Lina and I aren't doing that, and we 
 can't do that ; so we must be standing in the market- 
 place." 
 
 To Alice and Lina it all seemed very plain. It was not 
 want of love they were complaining of; it was want of 
 w T ork. If they left the world, they would leave an empty 
 place, and some would miss them. That might be — they 
 were quite willing to acknowledge that ; but it did not 
 prove to them that they were working in the vineyard. 
 Doubtless even the idlers in the market-place would be 
 missed by those who stood beside them, if they went away 
 before the day was done. 
 
 "Don't you understand, Frauleinl" asked Lina wist- 
 fully — " don't you understand 1 I'll try to say it all over 
 in German, if you like. But don't you understand 1 " 
 
 Friiulein did not demand such a great saci'ifice of Sunday 
 privileges as Lina had offered. During the conversation, 
 while she had cautiously adhered to her own language, the 
 little girls had used theirs ; and the governess had been 
 hampered by the feeling that she might perhaps be mis- 
 taking their meaning. Now, indeed, it seemed clear to her; 
 but she was still anxious to make sure of it before she went 
 further. 
 
 " You wish to be the servants of the good God ; work 
 for him, and help others for the Lord Christ's sake 1 Is it 
 not true?" 
 
 There was a moment's pause; and then both children 
 answered, " Yes." 
 
 "Is there, then, no work for Alice and Lina in any 
 corner of the vineyard 1 " asked Friiulein, passing her arm 
 round Lina, and drawing her close to her side. 
 
 "Not a bit," said Alice, shaking her hair. "That's 
 what we've been telling von all the time ! There's not one
 
 44 the father's business. 
 
 bit of work that Lina and I can get to do — and never was. 
 Not one bit ! " Then she stopped for a moment, and her 
 eyes wandered away to seek for sympathy in her sister's. 
 " Yesterday," continued Alice, speaking slower than usual, 
 "yesterday — for a little while — we thought perhaps some 
 work had come." 
 
 Fraulein did not understand the allusion in the last words ; 
 indeed, she scarcely heard them. But her heart had warmed 
 while the children were speaking, and in seeking help and 
 comfort for them she had found it for herself. She did not 
 know how Keble had written that 
 
 " The trivial round, the daily task, 
 May furnish all we ought to ask : 
 Room to deny ourselves ; a road 
 To bring us daily nearer God." 
 
 Perhaps, even if she had read the words, she would not have 
 understood them; but she had learned something of the 
 precious lesson nevertheless. With one hand still on the 
 sacred page and the oilier stroking the waveless gold of 
 Lina's hair, she began to tell the children how the Lord, in 
 his kindness, has shown us that every duty of life may be 
 dune for his glory. There was no need of looking far away 
 for work — it was lying at their very hands. They might 
 find it in their lessons, following the example of the Holy 
 Child, who, studying in the school at Jerusalem, was " about 
 his Father's business;" they might find it in their play- 
 hours, by gentle words and unselfish actions, serving God 
 by being kindly affectioned one to another. Duties to 
 father and mother, and even nurse, might be made sacred, 
 because children were to obey their parents "in the Lord;" 
 and surely among the household they might find little 
 kindnesses to do, which would doubtless be noticed by the 
 Muster So, within the circle of their home, Alice and
 
 FRAULEIN AND HER CHARGE. 45 
 
 Lina could be working in the vineyard; and if the Lord, as 
 he watched his labourers, saw that their little plot of ground 
 was carefully tilled, it might be he would call on them to 
 do something else for him. And with the great House- 
 holder's eye upon them, and his own hand ever ready to 
 help, they could be busy all through their day, till the night 
 came and the weary workers went home to rest. 
 
 In German, Fraulein was eloquent, and she was kept 
 back by no fear that the children would not understand 
 her. Every word she used was intelligible, even familiar, 
 to Alice and Lina, for German had been the language of 
 their schoolroom ever since they entered it. They stood 
 quite quiet all the time she spoke, and never once attempted 
 to interrupt her. Even when she was done, they did not 
 move. Both were looking very grave ; Alice through a 
 mist of tears, but Lina with a sort of subdued gladness, as 
 if she had found some new hope. To Fraulein they seemed 
 impressed, solemnized, convinced by her words ; and her 
 heart rose up in prayer for the children, that God himself 
 would help them to be his faithful servants to their life's end. 
 
 But the truth was, Alice and Lina had scarcely heard a 
 word of what had been said ; their thoughts were far away 
 from Fraulein and her exhortations. The lesson she fain 
 would have taught them they did learn at last, but very 
 slowly and with much trouble, and they had to spell it out 
 all by themselves. If they had listened to their governess 
 Bhe might have helped them, but their attention was alto- 
 gether absorbed with their own opinions and their own 
 plans ; they thought they knew all Fraulein could have to 
 say. She had not heard of the adventure of the day before. 
 Partly out of a fear of being laughed at, partly because tiny 
 thought she would not be interested, Alice and Lina had 
 kept the story to themselves as j^et ; therefore she knew
 
 40 BURIED IN THOUGHT. 
 
 nothing of the little one to whom the children's thoughts 
 had flown before she began her speech. If Alice and Lina 
 had told Fraulein then, things would probably have gone 
 very differently ; but the Lord, who knew all about it, was 
 very patient with the children, and brought good out of 
 their very mistakes in the end. 
 
 Perhaps it was well for Fraulein she was not aware how 
 her efforts to help her pupils had failed. She went away 
 from them cheered herself ; the very sunshine looked 
 brighter — the prospect of the day before her had grown 
 pleasant instead of dreaiy. She left Alice and Lina stand- 
 ing by the window ; still silent and grave, the quiet of the 
 Sabbath all around and over them. The glass-door which 
 shut in the brilliant array of story-books remained un- 
 opened ; in vain did Toodlekins make a spring from the 
 end of the sofa to Lina's shoulder, and rub her soft fur and 
 the red ribbon round her neck against her mistress's cheek. 
 Alice and Lina were in no mood either for story-books or 
 for Toodlekins ; their thoughts were far beyond their usual 
 Sunday diversions. 
 
 The two children were not what are generally called very 
 affectionate sisters; that is to say, they were not in the 
 least demonstrative in their love for each other. They 
 never called each other "dear" or "darling;" they very sel- 
 dom kissed ; and it must be confessed that quarrels between 
 them w r ere by no means rare. Yet the quarrels were 
 always short and never bitter, for they lived together in 
 such perfect knowledge of each other's thoughts and feel- 
 ings that misunderstandings were impossible. Now, neither 
 needed to tell the other where her thoughts were. Both 
 knew that they had not been listening to a word of Frliu- 
 lein's explanations, and that their disappointment of yester- 
 day was the only thing in their minds.
 
 NEWS ABOUT NELLY. 47 
 
 " Don't be grumpy, Lally," said Lina at last, while 
 Toodlekins went purring round her neck, and made little 
 dabs with velvety paws at her hair. " Don't be grumpy. 
 Do you know, I think there's hope yet !" 
 
 " How can there be hope when we can't have our little 
 Thing, and there's no other child we can do any good to?" 
 
 " But perhaps we could have the little Thing — partly." 
 
 " She's got a grandmother ! " said Alice, in a tone of the 
 deepest discouragement. 
 
 " Well, but do you know, I think a grandmother that 
 does nothing but wash is almost the same as no grand- 
 mother at all." 
 
 " Perhaps people may hnd that out by the time Nelly's 
 drowned or has her neck broken," was the grim reply. 
 " What in the world did her mother send her away for 1 
 Did you find out, Lina 1 ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I asked Jessie after you had gone down to the 
 schoolroom. Oh yes, Jessie knew — Jessie knows every- 
 thing of that sort ; only she didn't know much, so there 
 can't be much to know. Nelly's father went off and left 
 his wife, and she's got a place as sewing-maid somewhere, 
 and she sent Nelly to stay with Mrs. Veitch. Poor woman ! 
 she couldn't do anything else." 
 
 " Was that all Jessie told you V 
 
 " That was all she knew. Then she wanted to find out 
 how we had seen Nelly; but just then nurse came in scold- 
 ing because we were so late, and I had to run off as fast as 
 T could without saying anything more. Jessie had to 
 come after me with my sash; and nurse came after her, 
 scolding. She said we wouldn't get up when we were 
 called ; she never saw anything like the children now-a- 
 davfi, they were nothing but the torment of people's lives. 
 There was that little girl of Helen Veitch 's wouldn't let
 
 48 TALKING IT OVER. 
 
 her grandmother take in washing because she needed so 
 much looking after — " 
 
 " Nurse said that 1 " said Alice with great interest. 
 
 " Yes, nurse said that. I suppose she had heard Jessie 
 and me talking of Mrs. Veitch, and so she brought Nelly 
 in in her scolding to me. I left her telling Jessie she 
 couldn't manage us a bit." 
 
 " Nelly is naughty, then," said Alice reflectively. 
 
 " Nurse says so ; and I suppose she must have heard it 
 somewhere." 
 
 "I don't believe it," said Alice. "No, Lina, I don't 
 believe it." 
 
 Then Toodlekins fell from her perch with a scuffle and a 
 scrimmage, and she had to be lifted up and stroked and 
 cuddled, and assured she was not hurt; which she certainly 
 was not, as she had effectually broken her fall by hanging 
 on to Lina's dress. After that she was laid \ipon the sofa 
 and covered with a tidy : whereupon, instead of going to 
 sleep, she began to play with the fringe — imagined it a dog 
 and humped up her back at it, imagined it a mouse and 
 sprang upon it ; finally fixed all the claws of her four feet 
 in the wool at once, and, turning several somersaults 
 with great rapidity, rolled down on the floor with more 
 noise than any one not well acquainted with kittens could 
 have believed possible. But Alice and Lina were busy 
 with their conversation again, and Toodlekins, finding her 
 pranks unnoticed, set her tail straight up in the air, and 
 pranced off to the other end of the room in search of further 
 amusement. 
 
 " If Nelly's naught}/," said Lina, " she lias the more need 
 to be done good to. I believe she knows nothing, and what 
 can her grandmother do with her?" 
 
 " She can wash her clothes — and herself. Her pinafore
 
 THE CHILDREN'S DILEMMA. 49 
 
 was muddy when we found her at the river yesterday, but 
 you could see it was only with coming down the bank. 
 Oh, we might have known that no one but Mrs. Veitch 
 could have a child so horribly clean ! " 
 
 " But she can't wash her mind, Alice !" 
 
 " She would, if she could get at it," answered Alice with 
 a sort of sullen amusement. 
 
 " But she can't. So nothing will be done for her mind. 
 She can't go three miles to church or three miles to school. 
 It'll be very awful if nothing's done for her mind!" 
 
 " Get worse and worse as she grows older too," said 
 Alice, quite willing to take the gloomiest view of the 
 subject. 
 
 " Oh yes ! Our little Thing will grow up wicked — really 
 wicked — and it'll be our blame. O Lally! don't say we 
 can't do anything, for I've been thinking that if the Lord 
 were to come and find us in the market-piece because 
 we thought we had no work, he might say, Why did you 
 let a little Thing grow up at the Lodge and never try to 
 teach her anything, or do her any good, and the church and 
 the school three miles off at Aberinnan V 
 
 Lina was breathing quick in her excitement. She had 
 come nearer her sister as she spoke, and Alice turned round 
 on her gravely. 
 
 " He might say that," she answered very slowly. " But 
 we would have taken her if we could have got her. He 
 knows that we meant to take her home and do everything 
 for her. I would have given all my pocket-money to help. 
 I did think the work he wanted us to do was to take care 
 of the little Thing, and he must know very well that we 
 were willing to do it." 
 
 " But perhaps he wanted Mrs. Veitch to help," suggested 
 Lina. "Perhaps Mrs. Veitch lias born wishing and wish- 
 
 [664) 4
 
 50 lina's plan. 
 
 ing for work as much as we have, and so he sent Nel]y to 
 her that she might wash her clothes and make her porridge, 
 and have a little girl to talk to. Don't you see, Alice," 
 said Lina eagerly, " God has other people in the world to 
 think of besides you and me — " 
 
 " But I did want some work so much !" said Alice with 
 her whole heart. 
 
 " Alice ! and I think I know it ! I've thought of 
 something we can do, and I'm sure it's work. Can't you 
 guess 1 I'd like you to guess, and then you'd have thought 
 of it as well as me." 
 
 " Can't possibly. You'd better tell me." 
 
 " You don't speak as if you thought it was going to 
 be nice, Lally," said Lina, somewhat disheartened by her 
 sister's manner. 
 
 "Neither I do. I don't want any other work; I don't 
 want anything but Nelly," Alice answered, shaking her 
 head dismally. 
 
 " But this is Nelly." 
 
 " Nonsense, Lina ! " 
 
 " It is. I thought of it after the chapter, just after we 
 had said we had nothing to do. I don't think it's true 
 after all. These long Sunday afternoons — all between 
 dinner and tea — when Friiulein's up in her room, other 
 girls go to church; other girls have a class; and you and 
 I lie on the sofa and talk, or play with Sam and Toodles. 
 O Lally, it isn't right of us ! We might do something 
 better, don't you think 1 " 
 
 " You mean that we ought to Sabbath-school-teach — 
 Nelly 1 " said Alice in a tone of slow inquiry. Then sud- 
 denly changing to one of eager delight, she exclaimed, 
 " Oh, I'm a stupid not to have thought of it ! It's the 
 very thing — the very, very, very thing! O Lina, how did
 
 REFORMATION IN PROSPECT. 51 
 
 you think of it 1 It's always you that thinks about the 
 nice things ! " 
 
 Toocllekins sprang unheeded on the side-table, and pro- 
 ceeded to investigate the contents of the inkstand. Up- 
 stairs, Jessie was beginning to wonder why her young 
 ladies did not come to be dressed for church ; but Alice and 
 Lina, by the schoolroom window, had forgotten everything 
 else in the new idea which had come to them. Glorious 
 visions of work were opening up before them : at last they 
 too were to be labourers in the vineyard; the time of their 
 idling in the market-place was over for ever. 
 
 Not even yesterday's plan of adopting Nelly entirely had 
 ever seemed to Alice and Lina half so pleasant as this 
 new one of conducting her religious education. Mrs. 
 Veitch's supposed incapability of doing anything but wash 
 was all in their favour ; so was Nelly's naughtiness. The 
 work would be entirely in their own hands ; and the more 
 difficult it was, the greater would be the triumph when it 
 was done. Already they were eagerly looking forward to 
 the time when Nelly, her reformation complete, would be- 
 come her mother's comfort and the stay of Mrs. Veitch's 
 old age. They pictured the dark-eyed girl grown up to be 
 the sunshine and the housekeeper of the little cottage, going 
 singing about her work all day, and sitting down in the 
 evening to read aloud the Bible by the kitchen fireside. 
 Nelly was to be the ideal country maiden, always happy 
 and always industrious; a beautiful example to l'ich and 
 poor. And all this was to be brought about by the exer- 
 tions of Alice and Lina Hope. Surely this was blessed and 
 important work to do; surely the children had found their 
 mission at last. 
 
 To Alice the whole thing seemed perfectly plain and 
 rnsy. To Lina, who had thought of the matter longer, and
 
 52 A " GLORIOUS IDEA." 
 
 was besides more timid by nature, there did seem some 
 slight hindrances, though she had little doubt they might 
 be overcome with a little patience and tact. 
 
 " You think we have books enough, Lally 1 There's the 
 Picture Bible and ' Harry's Catechism.' " 
 
 " And ' Hymns Ancient and Modern,' and the other 
 hymn-book." 
 
 "Yes," said Lina; "and 'Peep of Day,' and the 'Line 
 upon Line,' and the blue picture-book, and that little one 
 with Samuel's ghost in it. Shall we show her that, though 1 ?" 
 
 " Of course. I always liked that picture." 
 
 " I didn't," said Lina ; " it used to frighten me. But 
 never mind, we'll go on just now. There ought to be some 
 other Bible picture-books somewhere, Lally; we must hunt 
 them up. And there's the real ' Pilgrim's Progress,' and 
 the ' Infant Pilgrim's Progress;' and nurse has a 'Confession 
 of Faith,' with the Shorter Catechism and the Larger Cate- 
 chism, and Grace before Meat and Grace after Meat, and 
 the Creed and the proofs, all in it." 
 
 " Has she, though % " said Alice, feeling that this was a 
 treasure indeed, and that with the command of such a 
 volume she and Lina would be independent of all other 
 books. " Oh, we shall do beautifully, I know ! It was a 
 glorious idea of yours, Lina ! " And she gave her sister's 
 arm a violent and somewhat painful squeeze in an outburst 
 of admiring affection. " We'll have plenty to teach Nelly 
 out of, Lina ; and we'll put her on a stool, and you and I 
 will sit on two chairs put together in front of her — don't 
 you see 1 She ought to get on very fast with her lessons, 
 Lina, for in most Sunday schools there are about a dozen 
 scholars to one teacher, and here we'll be two teachers to 
 one little scholar. It makes you think how we used to 
 give our dolls their lessons, doesn't it ? Only Nelly's a real
 
 AFRAID OF EVERYTHING. 53 
 
 little girl, and it's real work to teach her. We'll be doing 
 real good if we make her grow up as she ought to. I'm so 
 very glad you thought of it, Lina," 
 
 " So am I; but, do you know, I'm rather afraid of nurse." 
 
 " What about her 1 " 
 
 " She might be angry. I don't think she would like it." 
 
 " What business is it of hers 1 " 
 
 "Well, I don't know; but then she takes business." 
 
 "Lina, you're afraid of everything. You're afraid of 
 riding ; you're afraid of the new dog ; you were afraid of 
 Nelly herself yesterday. What harm can nurse do 1 I 
 rather like to see her angry, because I'll tell you what she's 
 like — Giant Pope in the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' sitting at the 
 mouth of his cave, grinding his teeth at the pilgrims he 
 couldn't get hold of. That's nurse exactly when she's in 
 a rage. She's quite harmless. She can't help herself. 
 We're too big to be whipped now, — I would just like to see 
 her try it ! " 
 
 " I shouldn't," said Lina, shrugging her shoulders. " I'm 
 not like you ; it makes me uncomfortable to see people 
 angry." 
 
 " But you'd rather be uncomfortable than that Nelly 
 shouldn't be done good to, wouldn't you 1 " 
 
 " Oh, well — yes, of course. Then, perhaps, nurse may 
 know nothing about it after all." 
 
 " I should think we just rather wouldn't run to her and 
 say, ' Oh, nurse, we've got a Sabbath-school child, and we're 
 going to teach her in the schoolroom.' We're not quite so 
 green as that yet, Lina ! " said Alice, waxing indignant and 
 sarcastic. 
 
 Lina laughed, but was quite grave again in .an instant. 
 " Then there's Fraulein," said she doubtfully. 
 
 "Wp needn't toll her either," was the cool reply.
 
 54 KEEPING IT SECRET. 
 
 "Alice!" 
 
 " Well, what's the good? She always stays in her room 
 till nearly tea-time, and Nelly will be gone by that time — 
 the whole thing over. Fraulein needn't know, — at least, 
 not at first." 
 
 " But will that be right 1 " 
 
 " I never saw anything like you, Lina ! " exclaimed 
 Alice in an outburst of impatience. " It was you that 
 thought of the whole thing ; and now you are talking against 
 it as hard as you can. I thought you were as anxious to 
 do good as I am ; and now it turns out that you don't care 
 twopence about Nelly at all, only about your own miser- 
 able fears of making nurse angry, and making Fraulein 
 angry. Do you want to give the whole thing up 1 If you 
 do, say so, straight out." 
 
 " Alice, you know I don't want to give it up. You 
 know I do care, with all my heart. It's very unkind and 
 untrue of you to say that ! " 
 
 Lina had grown tearful in her earnestness, and Alice was 
 somewhat mollified. 
 
 " What were you making such a fuss about, then 1 " sho 
 asked. " I wonder you're not ashamed of yourself. Look 
 here ; Friiulein's a very good creature, I suppose, but she 
 does worry most horribly. If we told her we meant to 
 have Nelly here on Sunday afternoons, she would wonder, 
 and she'd think it wouldn't do, and she'd fidget and fidget, 
 till at last she'd forbid us altogether. Then I'd get angry, 
 and wouldn't there be a row ! But if we just manage it 
 quietly for a Sunday or two by ourselves, and then tell her 
 when it's all settled and going on nicely, just as if it were 
 nothing particular, oh, then, she'll think it all right. After 
 a little she'll get quite pleased. I shouldn't wonder if she 
 made stockings for Nelly, or a red hood ; but if she gets a
 
 THE PLAN FIXED. 55 
 
 fright at once, then the whole thing's up ! Oh yes, I know 
 Fraulein ; and so do you, Lina, if you wouldn't go off into 
 your humbug." 
 
 " Perhaps you're right," said Lina thoughtfully. " It 
 would be sure to worry her." 
 
 " Of course it would. What's the use of worrying her 
 when there's nothing to be got by it 1 " 
 
 "What was the use this morning?" Lina retorted, smil 
 ins at the recollection of the attacks on the Fatherland. 
 
 " It was fun. But we don't want fun just now ; we're 
 going to have earnest ; we're going to do good and work in 
 the vineyard. Don't you see that it comes to this — we 
 must do it all ourselves, or else give it up ? Which will you 
 have 1 " 
 
 So Lina allowed herself to be persuaded, partly by her 
 sister's words, partly by her own secret desire to keep her 
 pet plan sacred between Lally and herself. " No," she said 
 firmly ; " I'm determined to go on with it. Whatever 
 comes, we won't give up. We've been standing idle so very 
 long already, our day must be getting on." 
 
 " Time we were at work, anyhow," said Alice. 
 
 "There's another thing," continued Lina more softly. 
 "Every day after my prayers lately I've been saying, '0 God, 
 give me some work to do.' I don't think I've forgotten it 
 almost any day for a long time. And this morning, when 
 I thought of Nelly and our long Sunday afternoons, I felt 
 almost sure it had come, and I thanked God in my heart. 
 But we mustn't give up praying about it, you and I ; we 
 must go on and ask very much — and for Christ's sake — and 
 every day, Lally — that God would help us with our work, 
 and make it all come right. Isn't that what you think 
 too 1 " added Lina, in fear lest her sister should suspect her 
 of trying to preacli.
 
 56 the fkaulein's anger. 
 
 " Yes. No fear but it will all go right, if we ask God 
 about it." 
 
 It was true what Alice said, but in a deeper sense than 
 the children knew of. Thank God, if the labourers only- 
 come first to the Master himself, he turns none of them 
 out of the vineyard, though the tools they bring may be 
 worse than useless. But often they have to learn through 
 many failures to do their work aright ; and sometimes it 
 seems as if he were taking it altogether out of their hands, 
 when he only means to show them how to do it best. 
 
 When Fraulein came back to the schoolroom she found 
 Alice and Lina in the midst of earnest talk, which came to 
 a sudden conclusion as she entered. 
 
 " Still here, children ! Jessie waits for you upstairs, I 
 am sure." Then her tone changed to one of horror as she 
 exclaimed, " My hymn-book ! Who has done that ? " 
 
 The children turned round, to see the German hymn-book 
 lying right in the course of a black river which was flowing 
 slowly but surely all round the obstruction in its path. 
 The empty ink-bottle lay overturned at a little distance. 
 
 " It was none of us, Fraulein." 
 
 " It was thy kitten ! Where is the animal 1 It shall no 
 longer remain here ! " exclaimed Fraulein, with more anger 
 and vexation than the children had ever seen her show 
 before. 
 
 " Oh no, Fraulein, I'm sure it wasn't Toodlekins," said 
 Lina, ever ready to defend her pet. 
 
 Fraulein only replied by holding up the kitten, whose inky 
 paws and bespattered white breast proved her guilt beyond 
 a doubt. The appearance of the frightened, uncomfortable 
 little culprit tickled the children's fancy, but their governess 
 was in no mood to be trifled with. " Idle, careless children," 
 she said, with a bitterness of anger which seemed to them
 
 A NOBLE MISSION. 57 
 
 strangely unreasonable; "it is always so. You think 
 only of yourselves." Then she opened the window, and 
 dropping the astonished Toodlekins outside on the grass, 
 she turned away from the children without another word. 
 
 " What is she angry at us for 1 " asked Alice, as she and 
 her sister slowly ascended the broad staircase to the upper 
 regions. " We didn't spill the ink over her stupid book." 
 
 "I suppose she thinks we ought to have looked after 
 Toodlekins better," said Lina; "but we were thinking of 
 something very different." 
 
 " And a great deal better. I should say working in the 
 vineyard was more important than taking care of any cat, 
 — though she is a nice little beast," added Alice, her heart 
 smiting her for speaking in a disparaging way of the 
 beloved kitten. " But Fraulein's Gesangbuch isn't worth 
 much. What's the use of making such a fuss about a 
 trifle, when there's so much work in the world to think 
 about ] " 
 
 So Alice and Lina, in their new visions of a noble mis- 
 sion, seemed more than ever inclined to forget the little 
 bits of usefulness and kindness which were the Lord's work 
 for them to do close beside their daily path. Fraulein was 
 almost niore vexed by the indifference with which the 
 accident had been regarded by the children than by the 
 accident itself; but the damage done was no trifle to her. 
 The hymn-book had been her companion for many years, 
 the legacy of a favourite sister who had long ago left the 
 father's house in clear Saxony for that other in the land that 
 is very far off. Fraulein carried the book upstairs with a 
 heavy heart, and tried, long and vainly, to wipe away the 
 stains from the well-worn cover. She laid it down at last 
 on the mantelpiece between the little vases of delicate 
 china, which were as characteristic remembrances of her
 
 58 THE START FOR CHURCH. 
 
 native city as the photograph of the Sistine Madonna, 
 which looked from above in heavenly calm and human ten- 
 derness. In this sanctuary of German treasures she had 
 hung the dead girl's picture, — a face with bright, kindly 
 eyes, and a lurking smile about the clever mouth. To 
 Fraulein it almost seemed as if some wrong had been done 
 which would bring a shadow on the pleasant face. 
 
 " Hilda," she said, looking piteously up at the picture, 
 " they do not know ! They are only children, and they do not 
 know ! " She scarcely knew whether she meant it as a 
 complaint or an excuse, but it seemed to bring her some 
 consolation, and she kept repeating it over and over again. 
 But when the sound of wheels at the door summoned her 
 downstairs, she had to wrap a veil over her face to hide 
 bhe traces of tears. 
 
 At Hopefield the start for church was the great event of 
 the Sunday. All drove, and all took their departure from 
 the front entrance. "When Mr. and Mrs. Hope were at 
 home, the waggonette and carriage were both used ; but 
 when they were absent, the whole household found room 
 in the large break, which was waiting now at the door. 
 The maids in their Sunday best were all standing in the 
 hall when Fraulein came down, in her flapping Leghorn 
 hat and brown veil ; but they were quite accustomed to 
 the peculiarities of her church - going costume, and, a 
 foreigner being in their eyes but little removed from an 
 idiot, they caused them no wonder. Probably, however, 
 they would have been not a little astonished had they 
 known the proud consciousness of superior wisdom with 
 which Fraulein exulted over her safety from weather and 
 accidents, as she folded her great cloak over the ugly 
 woollen gloves, which no rain could soften or obstinate 
 door-handles split. The kitchen-maid was better dressed
 
 WAITING FOR THE CHILDREN. 59 
 
 than she ; and Fraulein knew it, but rejoiced in her inde- 
 pendence. Nurse herself stood at the carriage-door, look- 
 ing self-important and serene in the black garments which 
 befitted her age and station. Sunday was almost the only 
 day when nurse crossed the threshold of Hopefield ; but 
 neither rain, snow, nor hail could keep her from attending 
 church. The dress which she wore then had belonged to 
 her from time immemorial, and never appeared on any 
 other occasion. Nurse was short and rather stout, with a 
 hard face, and brisk eyes which had worn well during her 
 sixty years. Her voice, too, sounded hai-sh in conversa- 
 tion with the children's maid, — a tall, nice-looking girl, in 
 the smartest of bonnets and gloves. 
 
 " They were ready a while ago," Jessie was saying in an 
 irritated tone, as Fraulein passed her on the steps. " I'm 
 sure I don't know where they are. They were jabbering 
 nonsense all the time they were dressing." 
 
 " Jabbering nonsense " meant, according to Jessie, 
 speaking German — a thing calculated to excite both annoy- 
 ance and suspicion in an attendant who was gifted with 
 more than an ordinary share of curiosity. 
 
 " "What's the use of ye, that ye can't get them down in 
 time for the church?" asked nurse, addressing Jessie, but 
 casting a glance of contemptuous meaning on the governess. 
 
 Fraulein bore it very meekly, and attempted no reply, as 
 she established herself in a corner of the waggonette, and 
 pulled her veil down tighter. Nurse still stood holding 
 open the door in an attitude of stern expectancy, the 
 servants were gathered on the steps, and the horses arched 
 their necks and stamped in impatience to be off. Minutes 
 passed, and still Alice and Lina did not come. Then the 
 coachman, who had until then remained motionless and 
 apparently indifferent, after the manner of his kind, slowly
 
 GO nurse's indignation. 
 
 pulled out his watch, and muttered something which was 
 understood to mean that they would "need their time." His 
 unwonted interference roused the others into a panic, and 
 it was felt by all that something must be done. Being 
 late for church, was to the Hopefield servants a thing not 
 only unusual, but terrible and disgraceful. 
 
 " I'll go and look for them," said Jessie, turning to the 
 house again ; but nurse waved her back with a command- 
 ing gesture. 
 
 " Bide where ye are. I'll go myself." 
 
 But just as she reached the top of the doorsteps, Alice 
 rushed out at full speed, and came against her with so 
 much violence, that if Jessie had not held out an arm 
 from behind she would have been overthrown. As it was, 
 nurse's breath was taken away, and it was Jessie who said 
 reprovingly, " Take care, Miss Alice ; you're most awfully 
 rough." 
 
 " Why does she get in my way, then 1 I'm sure it's no 
 pleasui'e to me to knock against her ! " 
 
 " Be quick and get in, then. Goorge says we need our 
 time." 
 
 " Child, where hast thou been 1 We have waited for 
 thee and Lina." 
 
 " Ye wild girl ! I wish ye'd somebody to manage ye ! 
 Ye're more like a wild boy than a young lady ! " said 
 nurse, recovering her voice, which sounded strong and 
 harsh compared to the German one which came so patheti- 
 cally from under the brown veil ; but Alice was equally 
 indifferent to them all. 
 
 " Is Anderson going to . walk ] Then I'm not coming 
 inside. I'm going on the box with George. You and 
 nurse had better get in yourselves, Jessie." 
 
 But the three who considered themselves responsible for
 
 INSULT UPON INSULT. Gl 
 
 the children, could not be satisfied with, the appearance of 
 only one of their charges. 
 
 " But where's Miss Lina 1 " Jessie asked, as Alice 
 climbed up beside the coachman ; and the muffled form 
 within the brown veil repeated the question, " Where is 
 thy sister?" while nurse, in a tone of gathering anger, 
 demanded with awful directness, — "Alice, where's Caro- 
 lynei" 
 
 " If you mean me," said Alice, more careful of her own 
 dignity than her sister's, — " if you mean me, say Miss 
 Hope, if you please ! " Then she turned round her head to 
 assure Fraulein, in rapid German, that Lina was all right, 
 and would be coming immediately. The children were 
 always more polite to their governess when nurse was 
 present, but I am afraid it would be too much to say that 
 their motives were altogether good ones. 
 
 " I wish your papa was here ! " said nurse, thoroughly 
 exasperated by this last insult. 
 
 But Alice buttoned the apron over her blue skh't and 
 blue stockings with the coolest unconcern. Then she took 
 a look all round her, and then down upon nurse, whose 
 dignity was at a decided disadvantage as she stood below 
 on the ground. 
 
 " I wish papa were at home too, then you wouldn't be 
 driving to church with us. — Oh no, Jessie ! you needn't go 
 into the house to look for Lina ; she isn't there. Here 
 she comes, though, if any one wants her." 
 
 And, turning in the direction Alice pointed, they saw 
 Lina coming running up the west avenue, her hair 
 streaming behind her. " I'm sorry ! — I'm sorry ! " she 
 said in German and English, as she came up pant- 
 
 ing. 
 
 " Where have you been ? Do you know you've kept us
 
 62 THE DRIVE TO CHURCH. 
 
 late for church with your nonsense 1 Get in, now ; will 
 
 ye?" 
 
 But Lina escaped nurse's detaining hand and passed her. 
 " One minute, nurse ; I must speak to Lally." 
 
 So this too was added to the sum of nurse's provocations, 
 that Lina climbed on the step in front, while Alice stooped 
 down from above, and there was a rapid secret conference 
 held under the sailor-hats. Lina was fairly pulled down 
 at last, and pushed inside the waggonette; but the result 
 of their confabulation had evidently been satisfactory to 
 the children themselves. Alice laughed aloud with plea- 
 sure from her seat beside George ; while Lina, squeezed in 
 between Fraulein and the housemaid, was in a glow of 
 delight, which nurse's angry words and the disheartened 
 silence of her governess were quite powerless to quench. 
 Both were far too much occupied with their own thoughts 
 to attempt to pacify the offended dignitai'ies ; probably, 
 indeed, they had no particular wish to do so. They were 
 so accustomed to being in disgrace, that such a state made 
 no impression on their minds. The novelty would have 
 been had people been pleased with them. 
 
 So they drove through the lines of firs, and past the ivy- 
 covered Lodge of the east avenue, out on the open country- 
 road ; then on by peaceful uninteresting farms, where the 
 houses stood bare and shelterless in the midst of fields 
 which were shorn now of their harvest glory. And the 
 autumn wind came blowing fresh on the children's cheeks 
 and tossed about their hair, as they passed rapidly by the 
 familiar scenes which were far too well known and too dear 
 to be anything but pretty to them. Only when they came 
 near to where the road ended in the one long street of the 
 country-town did the horses slacken their speed a little, 
 and then the church-bell was heard still ringing out od
 
 ALICE AND HER INJUNCTION. 63 
 
 the air ; whereupon George turned his head a little, and 
 again spoke words of wisdom to eagerly -listening ears, — 
 " We'll do it yet," said the oracle. 
 
 And the maids smiled and whispered to each other,- 
 " He says we'll do it yet ! " — while nurse fixed upon Linn 
 a terrible look, intended to convey the impi'ession that, 
 nevertheless, her fault and her sister's remained heinous 
 as ever. 
 
 As for Fraulein, she had to decide how many wraps to 
 leave in the carriage, and how many to take with her into 
 church ; and Alice leaned back towards Lina to say, 
 " Think of the afternoon," — an injunction which, though 
 not exactly intelligible to the general company, seemed to 
 be fully understood and appreciated by the person to whom 
 it was addressed.
 
 CHAPTER 111. 
 
 nelly's first lessox. 
 
 OTJ'PvE sure that Mrs. Veitck understood, Lina?" 
 " Oh yes ; quite sure." 
 " And you're sure she said she would come 1 " 
 
 " Quite sure, Lally." 
 
 " Then," said Alice in a tone of irritation, " I should 
 just like to know, why isn't she coming 1 ?" 
 
 "Oh! but I said three o'clock. You told me to say 
 three o'clock, you know, Lally; and it's not half-past two 
 yet. I think we must have been out of church earlier 
 than usual." 
 
 " Earlier than usual ! I thought Mr. Hill was never 
 going to be done. I counted up to fifteen hundred and 
 ninety-four, and that didn't take up anything like all his 
 sermon." 
 
 " You did it by tens and twenties, I suppose, though 1 " 
 
 " Not altogether ; and I counted all the people in the 
 church with yellow in their bonnets, and I tried the men 
 with red hair. It wouldn't do, though ; there were too 
 many ! Then I squinted a little — " 
 
 " Lally ! " 
 
 " Well, what 1 " 
 
 " It isn't right," said Lina, fidgeting on the end of the 
 sofa where she had perched herself. " You ought to listen 
 to the sermon."
 
 AN UNINVITING PICTURE. 65 
 
 " Do you do it yourself 1 ?" 
 
 " I tried this morning for a while, and when I couldn't 
 I said hymns to myself. Sometimes I do count," said 
 Lina in her honesty ; " but, Lally, if we are going to teach 
 Nelly to do right things, we must give up doing wrong 
 things ourselves." 
 
 " If Mr. Hill would only preach something interesting," 
 groaned Alice. 
 
 " Didn't you hear papa saying Mr. Hill's a capital 
 preacher? And nurse says she's never tired of sermons. 
 She would like the minister to go on and on; only that 
 would be selfish, she says. If we were good, I think we 
 would like sermons," said Lina thoughtfully ; " only I've 
 tried and tried, and I can't understand them, except bits. 
 Lally, do you believe it's really true that in heaven ' con- 
 gregations ne'er break up, and Sabbaths have no end ' 1 " 
 
 There was a pause for a moment, while the little girls 
 meditated on the possibility of an everlasting assembly of 
 the Aberinnan people, with their various red locks and 
 yellow bonnets ; Mr. Hill's thin, high-pitched, earnest 
 voice going on unceasingly ; and the church-doors never 
 opening to let the weary audience out into the fresh air 
 and the sunshine. 
 
 " At least, if it's true," continued Lina wistfully, " don't 
 you think there will perhaps be children's churches 1 " 
 
 " Don't know what you mean by that." 
 
 " I mean churches where they would preach sermons to 
 children. Don't you remember a strange minister coming 
 and doing that last summer 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; that was jolly. I listened to that. I wish he'd 
 come again." 
 
 " I remembered it nearly all," said Lina. " And there 
 were ever so many stories. Oh, it was nice ! I wasn't 
 
 (564) 5
 
 6G THE PROSCRIBED HYMN. 
 
 a bit tired. I would have liked if he had gone on 
 longer." 
 
 " But not for ever and ever," Alice said emphatically. 
 
 " Not if we were quite good, Lally 1 " 
 
 " No ; I don't believe we could ever want to sit still 
 and hear sermons always. I wouldn't believe it, though it 
 said it in fifty hymns. The Bible doesn't say any such 
 thing. The Bible says the boys and girls play about the 
 streets of the city; and how could they do that if it were 
 always Sabbath, and they were always, always in church 1 ? 
 I believe the person who wrote that hymn was very stupid 
 — anyway, he'd never been in heaven himself. He'd 
 better have talked about what he knew ! God took John 
 up into heaven, and told him what to write about it. 
 When you find anything like the ' congregations ne'er 
 breaking up ' in the Bible, just you bring it to me. I 
 should like to see it." 
 
 " It's true," said Lina, " there's nothing like that in 
 the Revelation. And what would be the use of golden 
 streets, if we were never to walk on them; or trees with 
 twelve manner of fruits, if we were never to sit under the 
 trees or eat the fruit 1 " 
 
 " Of course, no good at all. I wonder how you could 
 have worried yourself about it for a minute, Lina. We 
 won't make Nelly learn that hymn. But perhaps it's 
 true we ought to listen in church if we're going to be 
 Sunday-school teachers. Are you sure that clock's going. 
 Lina?" 
 
 But the little clock on the schoolroom mantelpiece was 
 ticking briskly on, though the hands only pointed to a 
 quarter to three. Alice and Lina had placed two chairs 
 together on the rug, and in front of them a little stool ; the 
 table was piled with books of all sizes, but the children
 
 AN IMPATIENT YOUNG LADY. 07 
 
 themselves had left chairs and books alike unused, and 
 were standing by the window which looked out on the 
 west avenue. They were again all alone ; for Fraulein's 
 neuralgia having, as she had feared, been aggravated by 
 the drive through the wind, she had retired to her room 
 immediately after dinner. 
 
 " "Was Mrs. Veitch washing when you went to her this 
 forenoon 1 ?" asked Alice, when the question about the clock 
 had been settled. 
 
 " She was washing her face. She couldn't wash any- 
 thing else on Sunday, you know, except her hands — and 
 Nelly." 
 
 " Was she quite willing to let her come?" 
 
 " Yes — oh yes ; I think so. But she was a good deal 
 astonished." 
 
 " Are you quite sure she understood to come at three 1" 
 
 " Well, I told her to bring Nelly at three o'clock ; and 
 she said, ' Wull I bring her at three 1 ' and I said, ' Yes, 
 please ; at three.' I hadn't a minute to stay, so I ran off 
 saying, 'Yes, Mrs. Veitch — three o'clock, please;' and she 
 came with me to the door, saying after me all the way, 
 ' Three o'clock, missie — yes, mem ; thi'ee o'clock.' So I 
 think she understood." 
 
 " And what was Nelly doing ] " 
 
 " Sitting on the top of the kist, all scrubbed and rubbed 
 and shiny, with a clean, clean pinafore on, and her hair 
 newly brushed." 
 
 " Did she say anything 1" 
 
 " Not a word ; but then I'd so little time." 
 
 " I say, Lina," said Alice solemnly, " it'll be an awful 
 tiling if she won't speak !" 
 
 The two little girls stared at each other in blank horror 
 at the awful possibility which Alice had suggested. A
 
 68 IN miss stauer's room. 
 
 Sunday scholar who would make no manner of response to 
 all their edifying exhortations and pointed questions was 
 indeed a dreadful idea. 
 
 " "We must do our best all the same, Lally," said Lina, 
 trying to speak hopefully. " "We'll tell her Bible stories 
 and read her things; and perhaps, though she does say no- 
 thing, they may sink into her mind. Still one would like 
 to know — " 
 
 " Of course ! But she'll speak, sooner or later. "We 
 mustn't lose heart, even if it isn't for a year or two. 
 Remember Matt, the idiot boy; and think of all the really 
 deaf and dumb children in the asylums !" 
 
 " If we only had that ' Confession of Faith,' we would be 
 all ready now." 
 
 " I'll have a try for it," said Alice. " Nurse will be at 
 her dinner just now. "Where does she keep it 1 Up in 
 her room 1" 
 
 In Miss Stauer's pleasant chamber the sun was sending 
 slanting rays through the half-closed blinds on Hilda's pic- 
 ture and the photograph of the Dresden Madonna ; but 
 Fraulein had drawn the green curtains round her bed, and 
 was lying all in the shade. She had put a shawl about 
 her head, and a fur cloak over her feet; and having dozed 
 herself with chlorodyne to soothe her neuralgia, she was 
 now in a dreamy state of semi-consciousness. Sleep had 
 not come to her yet, but it was very near ; and meanwhile 
 all sense of pain and trouble had passed away, and she was 
 lying in delicious calm, gazing into the subdued brightness 
 of the outer world from under the shadow of her pretty 
 chintz draperies. Fraulein meant to have her rest till tea- 
 time ; she was not anxious about Alice and Lina, for she 
 was accustomed to leave them to their story-books on Sun- 
 day afternoons, and they had never as yet abused her con-
 
 AN ALARM. 69 
 
 fidence. At tea-time she would go down refreshed and 
 inspirited, and ready to be companionable to the children ; 
 perhaps in the evening able to read aloud, or join them in 
 singing some of the German hymns she had taught them. 
 
 So, at least, she was thinking, when a rumbling sound 
 on the staircase, and then a heavy fall, made her start up in 
 bed. With every sense fully awake, and her head throb- 
 bing again in a whirl of pain, she rose and staggered to the 
 door. But, with the handle in her hand, she paused trem- 
 bling, and was afraid to look out, till a voice called in a 
 cheerful, reassuring tone, " It's only me fallen downstairs, 
 Fraulein !" 
 
 Then Fraulein stepped out into the lobby, and saw Alice 
 seated on a mat at the foot of the staircase, with a large 
 old-fashioned book in brown covers pressed close to her 
 bosom. 
 
 "Child, hast thou hurt thyself?" said the unfortunate 
 governess in an agitated voice. 
 
 " Not a bit. Go back to bed, and never mind." 
 
 " Art thou quite certain 1 ?" 
 
 " Oh yes ; quite certain. Don't bother." 
 
 "Canst thou walk?" 
 
 " Well, I should rather think so !" 
 
 This last question was rather too much for Alice, who 
 regarded any chance of injury to her limbs as a ridiculous 
 idea. On this occasion she proceeded to give a practical 
 proof of their soundness by rising briskly and making a rush 
 at her governess, who retreated again into her own room 
 with something between a sob and a groan. Alice fol- 
 lowed her; and when Fraulein sat down on the edge of 
 her bed and took her head in her hands, she stood in the 
 middle of the floor and watched her. 
 
 " Better get into bed again," said Alice, in a tone of
 
 70 A LIBATION OV C11LORODYNE. 
 
 contemptuous pity. " Lie down, and put your ugly fur 
 thing over you." 
 
 " No ; I shall come downstairs," said Fraulein suddenly, 
 feeling that, now her quiet was broken in upon, there 
 would be some satisfaction in making herself as miserable 
 as possible. 
 
 " Don't," said Alice in horror. " Don't, I say. Why 
 should you, Fraulein 1 You never do." 
 
 " Because you will not remain quiet," said Fraulein, in 
 a tone of desperate calmness, as she removed the shawl 
 from her head and began smoothing down her plaits with 
 her hands. But even as she did so the pain got the better 
 of her again, and she sank down on the pillow with closed 
 eyes. 
 
 " That's it," said Alice, relieved. " You lie still, and 
 we'll be like mice. Don't get up till tea-time. You ought 
 to have some of this stuff to put you to sleep." 
 
 Fraulein groaned slightly, but did not open her eyes till 
 she felt Alice bend over her, and put something to her 
 lips. As she raised her head with a start, the rim of a 
 wine-glass came in violent contact with her chin, and a 
 libation of chlorodyne was poured out on the pillow. 
 
 "There — look what you've done!" cried Alice. "I 
 would have given you enough to make you sleep all after- 
 noon, and you've gone and spilt it. Drink this up quick, 
 then ; perhaps there's enough still to do for you." 
 
 Fraulein rather thought there was, as she looked at the 
 contents of the wine-glass. She sat bolt upright immedi- 
 ately, and sti-etched out both her hands to protect herself, 
 in case Alice should try to pour the dose forcibly down her 
 throat. " Take it away ! take it away!" she said hoarsely, 
 in a voice of terror. 
 
 Alice had gone back a step, and stood staring at her
 
 THE GOVERNESS IN DREAD. 71 
 
 with wide-open blue eyes. " It's the stuff for making you 
 sleep." 
 
 " Child," said Fraulein, very solemnly, " if I were to 
 drink that, I should never wake again." 
 
 " It's what you always take when you've got headache, 
 Fraulein." 
 
 " A few drops in a glass of water. Thou wouldst Lave 
 poisoned me, Alice. Listen : I forbid thee ever to touch 
 that bottle, and Lina also. Go now — only go. Thou hast 
 done enough." 
 
 Fraulein's only anxiety now was to get her room clear ; 
 and while Alice, still puzzled, stood and gazed at her, she took 
 the wine-glass from her hands and poured out its contents. 
 " Only go," she kept repeating; and Alice was nothing loath 
 to do as she was told. Only, now that she had not been 
 allowed to administer the sleeping draught, on whose suc- 
 cess she had depended, she was very anxious to have some 
 other security that her governess would leave her and Lina 
 alone in the schoolroom all afternoon. 
 
 " If Lina and I are as good as gold, and stay quiet, will 
 you promise not to come downstairs till tea-time 1" 
 
 But at this moment Lina's steps were heard bounding 
 up the stair, and her voice called in an eager whisper, 
 "Alice! Alice!" Her sister rushed off immediately, bang- 
 ing the door behind her with a violence which made the 
 room shake. Fraulein groaned again, but she made no 
 attempt to follow her pupil. She turned back to her 
 couch and her shawls; but before she laid her aching head 
 once more on the pillow whose peace had been taken from 
 her, she corked up the chlorodyne bottle and locked it 
 away. But the precaution was now somewhat useless, us 
 almost every drop of the contents was gone. 
 
 Meanwhile, when ALice had gone out of the room she
 
 72 the scholar's arrival. 
 
 was met by Lina in a state of suppressed excitement. 
 " They are coming 1" she said in a stage whisper; to which 
 Alice replied, as they went downstairs together, " All 
 right. Go and open the door to them." 
 
 " Oh, they aren't at the door yet." 
 
 " So much the better. Go and meet them, and bring 
 Nelly into the schoolroom. Tell Mrs. Veitch to go away 
 now, and come back again for her at half-past four. Be 
 quick." 
 
 " Hadn't I better wait till they come to the door?" 
 
 " You're a donkey," was the angry reply. " Do you want 
 Mrs. Veitch to go and gossip with nurse and the others 1 
 Be quick, will you ! or she'll go round to the kitchen door." 
 
 Lina obeyed, though the business was not at all to her 
 taste ; while AHce went to the schoolroom window to see 
 her commands executed. She watched the meeting in the 
 west avenue, and heaved a sigh of satisfaction as the as- 
 tonished Mrs. Veitch yielded up her grandchild to Lina and 
 departed with a courtesy, while the little thing trotted con- 
 tentedly on towards the house. Alice received the two 
 when they came in at the schoolroom door hand in hand, 
 Lina looking very tall and very fair by the side of the 
 little brown-faced child she was leading. Little Nelly had 
 on a hat to-day, and this time her snowy pinafore was 
 soiled by no stains of mud, but in everything else she 
 seemed the same odd little fairy that had puzzled them so 
 much at the river-side the day before. She took in the 
 whole room with one quick, comprehensive glance of her 
 great eyes ; and the survey evidently pleased her, for she 
 smiled to herself over it, and then looked up and nodded 
 at Alice. And when they asked her if she remembered 
 seeing them before, she delighted the children greatly by 
 answering immediately, " Ay."
 
 AM UNEXPECTED TRANSFORMATION. 73 
 
 " She's going to talk," said Lina to Alice in a delighted 
 aside. And when they made her sit down on the stool 
 they had placed for her, they found they were right. 
 
 The little Thing proceeded to take the conversation into 
 her own hands. " Do they ca' you Miss Hope?" said she, 
 addressing Alice. 
 
 " Yes," answered Alice, much astonished at first, but 
 recollecting afterwards that the grandmother had probably 
 been instructing her. 
 
 Then Nelly turned her great shining eyes on Lina : 
 " An' do they ca' you Miss Lina 1 ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 After this she rose, turned the stool upside down, and 
 inspected it. " This is a right bonnie stool !" 
 
 Alice and Lina began to feel embarrassed. They had 
 been preparing themselves for a Sunday scholar who would 
 gaze at them with silent wonder, while they dropped into 
 her mind precious seeds of instruction, which might take 
 root deep down and spring up after many days. But they 
 felt quite at a loss how to proceed with this self-possessed, 
 talkative little personage into which their little Thing had 
 been unexpectedly transformed. Just then the cupboard 
 door opened slightly, and out came Toodlekins, yawning 
 and stretching herself after a pleasant nap in her favourite 
 retreat. Nelly heard the creaking immediately, and had 
 turned herself round in a moment. " What's 'at?" 
 
 " It's Toodlekins, our little cat," Lina explained. 
 
 " For shame ! She oughtn't to learn about cats when 
 she comes to Sunday school," said Alice immediately. But 
 she was considerate enough to utter her reproof in German, 
 for it would never do to lower one of her teachers in 
 Nelly's eyes. 
 
 However, Nelly herself was not heeding her teachers
 
 74 A STRANGE PROCEEDING. 
 
 just then. She was evidently not accustomed to animals, 
 and she looked at Toodlekins with no very friendly eyes. 
 The kitten herself was much interested in the unusual 
 visitor, and advanced towards her in perfect certainty of 
 receiving the welcome which was always given to that 
 much-petted little cat. Suddenly Nelly, with an elfish 
 shriek which might have been either terror or amusement, 
 seized the stool and hurled it at her with all her force. 
 Over it went, crashing and tumbling, to the other end of 
 the room; away scampered Toodlekins, unhurt but terri- 
 fied; and when Nelly saw the enemy fairly in flight, she 
 gave chase herself on her hands and knees, her screams 
 changing now into unmistakable laughter. The horror of 
 Alice and Lina was beyond description, but the very awful- 
 ness of their situation restored their presence of mind. 
 Alice walked quickly after her unruly pupil, carried her 
 back to the rug, and deposited her firmly on the stool. 
 Then, seating herself on one of the chairs opposite her, she 
 fixed her own eyes upon Nelly's with the most awe-inspir- 
 ing stare she could manage to get up. It seemed suc- 
 cessful ; for the little Thing gazed silently up at her, and 
 never once looked after Toodlekins, who had again found 
 refuge in the press. There was dead stillness for a few 
 moments, then Alice said solemnly, " Who was the first 
 man 1 " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Who was the first man 1 " 
 
 Still no response; and when the question was repeated 
 a third time, Lina said in a whisper of pity, " She doesn't 
 know ! " 
 
 " I don't believe she does," said Alice. " Nelly, the 
 name of the first man was — Adam. Remember that, for I 
 shall ask you again. Do you understand 1 "
 
 " WHO MADE THE WORLD 1 " 75 
 
 "Ay," said Nelly, beginning to fidget and look round 
 about again. 
 
 "Very well ! Now then, Lina; it's your turn." 
 
 Lina, sitting on the chair close to Alice's, flushed and 
 hesitated; and Nelly, who seemed more impressed by 
 sdence than anything else, fixed her eyes upon her in 
 grave expectation. 
 
 " Nelly, who made the world 1 " said Lina at last, in a 
 voice of tremulous earnestness. 
 
 Nelly said nothing at first; then apparently seeing that 
 something was expected of her, began to repeat, very 
 slowly and carefully, — 
 
 « Who— made— the— world 1 " 
 
 "Yes, dear; that was what I said. Now answer me, if 
 you know. Who made the world 1 " 
 
 « Who— made— the— world 1 " 
 
 "No, Nelly; you mustn't say it after me. That's not 
 right; you're not doing what I want you to do. When 
 I ask you, Who made the world ? you must wait till I'm 
 done, and then you must say, The great God. Do you 
 understand, Nelly 1" 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 " And you know what you ought to say 1 " 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 " Well then, Who made the world 1 " 
 
 But again, and this time with a carefully correct 
 imitation of Lina's tone and accent, the little Thing re- 
 peated, " Who made the world 1 " 
 
 It was certainly very discouraging. Alice and Lina 
 exchanged looks of deep perplexity. As for Nelly, she 
 was evidently entirely satisfied with her own performance, 
 and shut her mouth after her last words with a decisive 
 snap, as if the matter was now finished. It was Alice who
 
 76 A REFRACTORY PUPIL. 
 
 took up the thread of discourse again; and this time she 
 determined to ask no questions, but proceed with her 
 teaching in a narrative form. " The great God made the 
 world and everything in it. He made it in six days. 
 Then God made Adam, who was the first man, and Eve — 
 she was the first woman. Eve was Adam's wife. And 
 God made a beautiful garden — " 
 
 " Where's thon little cat 1 " inquired Nelly. 
 
 " God made the little cat too, Nelly," said Lina, anxious 
 to use the child's interest in the kitten for the purpose 
 of instruction. But again Alice disapproved. 
 
 " Lina," she said very angrily, " we haven't nearly come 
 to that ! You'll make her think Toodles was made at the 
 Creation, along with Adam and Eve and the Garden of 
 Eden ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, Nelly took advantage of her teachers' atten- 
 tion being occupied with each other to gain possession of 
 a small pair of tongs, with which she proceeded to put coal 
 on the fire. When Alice pounced upon her, she uttered a 
 shriek of laughter, and snapped the tongs in her teacher's 
 face within an inch of her nose. With some difficulty she 
 was disarmed, and again deposited on the stool. But the 
 Hopes were beginning to feel that their pupil was some- 
 what difficult to manage. 
 
 Then it was that Lina proposed that the picture-books 
 should be tried. This involved a change of position. An 
 arm-chair was brought to the table for Nelly, and when 
 she was placed in it, exalted on a red cushion to raise her 
 to a proper level, Alice and Lina sat down, one on each 
 side of her, and the volume of most gaily-coloured Biblical 
 illustrations was opened. And then, indeed, at last, a 
 prospect of success seemed to open up before Alice and 
 Lina. For over the patriarchs and men of old in flowing
 
 COLLECTING THEIR FORCES. 77 
 
 robes of red and yellow, and turbans of wonderful size, 
 Nelly exclaimed, and clapped her hands, and opened wide 
 her eyes with delighted interest. Her manner, to be sure, 
 seemed to her teachers somewhat irreverent, and she paid 
 no heed to the explanations of the pictures Alice and Lina 
 offered. The procession of animals going to the ark was 
 only " they nasty beasts," the Garden of Eden merely a 
 picture of " muckle trees," to Nelly ; but it was such a com- 
 fort to have her out of mischief and comparatively quiet, 
 that the Hopes were content to let her alone for a while. 
 It was well that she was occupied with subjects of a 
 religious nature ; and, during the interval of peace, Alice 
 and Lina could collect their forces for another direct attack. 
 So Nelly wandered from one end to another of the large 
 blue book, and then turned back again to choose out 
 favourite pictures ; while Alice and Lina sat beside her 
 watching, but for the most part silently. 
 
 At last Alice began turning over the leaves of her 
 precious " Confession of Faith," in search of a suitable 
 lesson to learn by heart, for it seemed to her a pity not to 
 make use of Nelly's apparent willingness for repetition 
 tasks. " Look here, Lina ! " said she ; and Lina came 
 round to her sister's chair obediently. " I don't think we 
 ought to begin at the chief end of man ; do you 1 " 
 
 " Well, no ; perhaps not," said Lina. 
 
 " I think she ought to learn about the creation. ' "What 
 is the work of creation 1 ' and ' How did God create man ? ' 
 and these ones, beginning at the ninth," said Alice, point- 
 ing out the place on the yellow page of nurse's ancient 
 volume. 
 
 "Yes; all right," said Lina. 
 
 Nelly was intent on a picture of Job seated on the 
 ground among the ashes, with his three comforters stand-
 
 78 TEACHERS AND PUPIL. 
 
 ing at his side, and pulling their beards meditatively as 
 they surveyed him. To get the best possible view of the 
 scene, Nelly was holding the leaf close to her bright eyes, 
 when Alice put out her hand to interrupt her. 
 
 " Shut the book now, Nelly." 
 
 " I winna ! " said the little Thing stoutly, confronting 
 Alice with pouting lips, and stuffing her two small fists 
 between the leaves to keep the book from shutting. 
 
 " Oh ! let her keep it open," pleaded Lina. 
 
 " You're a nice teacher !" retorted Alice bitterly. " You 
 would ruin any child ! Don't you know that children 
 ought never to be allowed to do what they want 1 It's the 
 worst thing for them. Nelly, you are to shut that book." 
 
 Alice proceeded to execute her own orders by force, 
 whereupon Nelly set up a scream so loud and shrill, that 
 both her teachers were thoroughly alarmed. 
 
 " Don't, don't, don't, Nelly ! " said Lina. " Hush, dear ; 
 please don't ! O Alice ! let her look at the pictures, — at 
 least, let her look at Adam and Eve, for they have to do 
 with her lesson ! " 
 
 " Well, let her look at them, then," said Alice, agreeing 
 rather sulkily to a compromise. And Nelly became silent 
 again, as Lina turned hurriedly to the beginning to find 
 the picture of our first parents in the estate whei-ein they 
 were created. " Now then, Nelly," said Alice, when the 
 black eyes were fixed on Adam and Eve seated under 
 sri^antic trees beside one of the rivers of the earthly 
 paradise, — " Now then, Nelly, say after me, The work of 
 creation was — " 
 
 " Hush ! " said Lina suddenly. 
 
 All listened in breathless silence, and the sound of heavy 
 feet was heard in the passage. 
 
 "It's nurse !" said Lina again, in an awe-struck whisper.
 
 AN INTERRUPTED LESSON. 79 
 
 Alice was off her chair in a minute ; and, j ust as a hand 
 was laid on the schoolroom door from without, she slipped 
 the bolt — -then stood waiting to see what would happen 
 next. The handle was rattled violently ; then came a 
 smart rap, and nurse's voice said, — 
 
 " How daur ye lock the door in my face 1 Open it this 
 minute, or I'll make ye." 
 
 "Do, then !" retorted Alice scornfully, from within. 
 
 She was laughing, but more with excitement than amuse- 
 ment ; and Lina, still sitting at the table with Nelly, looked 
 thoroughly frightened. 
 
 " Oh, Lally, what shall we do 1" 
 
 " Speak German," said Alice. Then, as the knocking and 
 remonstrances grew louder, she added, — " We can't finish 
 our lesson. Take Nelly away home. I'll keep the door 
 till you come back." 
 
 There seemed nothing else to be done. Nelly was popped 
 out of the west window with as little ceremony as Toodle- 
 kins had been ejected in the morning, and Lina scrambled 
 hastily after her. It was fortunate that the little Thing 
 had that wonderful gift of keeping silence in trying circum- 
 stances. All through the commotion that had been going 
 on, she only stared about her with wide-open eyes. Even 
 when she was suddenly separated from her beloved picture- 
 book, and thrust out of the house in this strange fashion, 
 she did not utter a word. Nor did Lina offer any explan- 
 ation of the fate which had been decided for her in an un- 
 known tongue. She was only too glad that Nelly asked 
 no questions as she hurried her over the grass and along 
 the west avenue. 
 
 It was not yet much past four o'clock, but Mrs. Veitch — 
 who was anxious to hear of her grand -daughter's welfare, 
 and by no means unwilling to spend a little while in Calk
 
 80 A MYSTERY IN THE MATTER. 
 
 with the servants if the young ladies were not yet tired of 
 Nelly — was already on her way to the house. But again 
 she was destined to be balked of her gossip ; for she had 
 not gone very far before she saw Lina hurrying along in 
 hot haste with Nelly. Both were evidently in perturbation 
 of mind; and while Lina wore no hat at all, Nelly's was 
 stuck on back-foremost. Mrs. Veitch felt there was a 
 mystery in the matter, and began to fear something was 
 wrong. She looked decidedly uneasy, as Lina came up 
 breathlessly and delivered her grandchild to her. 
 
 " Oh, here you are, Mrs. Veitch ! I'm so glad. Here's 
 Nelly. Good-bye ; I must go — I'm in a hurry." 
 
 " I hope she's been good, mem 1 " said Mrs. Veitch 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Oh yes ! — at least, pretty good," said Lina, honest even 
 in her haste. And then she turned, and saying something 
 indistinct about next Sunday, she ran off to the house again 
 as fast as she could, leaving the grandmother and child 
 standing in the middle of the avenue in utter bewilder- 
 ment. 
 
 At last Mrs. Veitch decided, with a sigh, that she could 
 not well visit the Hopefield kitchen just then ; and turning 
 slowly homewards, she attempted to console herself by 
 drawing Nelly out on the subject of her afternoon's adven- 
 tures. But the little woman's story, though related with 
 great volubility, was such an extraordinary compound of 
 beautiful gardens and wild beasts, big books, little cats, 
 and chairs with red cushions, that it only tended to create 
 greater wonder and confusion in the mind of her relative. 
 
 " "Well, Lina ] " said Alice impatiently, as her sister 
 appeared again at the schoolroom window. 
 
 The knocking and threats outside the door had continued 
 without intermission ; and though Lina's absence had been
 
 ACTING ON THE DEFENSIVE. 81 
 
 much shorter than could have been expected, it had seemed 
 Ion" to Alice in her state of siesce. Nurse's voice had be- 
 come so loud, that it was with some difficulty the news of 
 Nelly's safety was communicated, as Lina swung herself 
 back into the room. Alice walked to the fender, and took 
 possession of the fireirons. 
 
 " She'll be sure to hit when she gets in. You take the 
 poker, Lina, and poke it at her if she comes at you. I'll 
 snap the tongs." 
 
 " Oh, but, Lally — " Lina expostulated, as the foi'midable 
 weapon was thrust into her hand. 
 
 " Of course, don't touch her with it unless she flies at 
 you. — Now, then !" 
 
 Suddenly Alice flung the door wide, and stood back her- 
 self, confronting nurse. 
 
 " Ye' re a bad girl, Alice Hope !" were the first words, 
 addressed to her with great energy and solemnity. 
 
 Here nurse stopped, and looked all round the schoolroom 
 to find matter upon which to pour out her wrath ; but see- 
 ing nothing unusual or remai-kable, she was somewhat at a 
 loss how to proceed. So as, after all, the children's weapons 
 of defence were the best thing to fasten a scolding on, nurse 
 began upon them accordingly. 
 
 " Put down the tongs, impudent monkey that ye are ! 
 You lay down that poker, Carolyne — this moment, miss ! 
 What have ye been at? What business had ye locking 
 the door? Are ye going to lay down that poker, Caro- 
 lyne?" 
 
 " Don't, Lina ! If you do, she'll box your cai-s," said 
 Alice, in a tone of warning. 
 
 " Ye're an awfu' girl !" said nurse, turning round on her 
 again. " An' as sure as your papa comes home, I'll tell 
 him on you both." 
 
 f564) 6
 
 82 THREATS OF VENGEANCE. 
 
 The threat had been too often made and too often broken 
 to cause the children much uneasiness ; and Alice was 
 really beginning to enjoy the contest, in which she was 
 certainly not coming off worst, when a woe-begone figure, 
 wrapped in a great shawl, appeared at the door. 
 
 " You promised, Alice !" said Friiulein, in accents of the 
 most profound reproach. 
 
 At the sight of her governess, even Alice's courage 
 failed, and the tender-hearted Lina melted into tears. 
 
 " Don't you begin now, Friiulein," said Alice. " Oh yes ! 
 I promised that we would be quiet ; and we did it. You 
 ought to have made nurse promise. She's been making all 
 the noise ; it wasn't me." 
 
 Then Alice and Lina laid down their arms, while nurse 
 launched forth into an explanation of their sins, mingled 
 with threats of vengeance addressed to the evil-doers them- 
 selves, and very strong remarks about their want of con- 
 trol and discipline ; all of which was almost entirely unin- 
 telligible to Fraulein. 
 
 " But I'll tell your father on you," said nui'se, shaking 
 her fist at Alice as she finished. 
 
 " You needn't," was the reply ; " I'm going to do it my- 
 self :" which speech struck so much astonishment into the 
 mind of nurse, that there was a moment's lull in the storm, 
 and Fraulein managed to say, — 
 
 " But vat is it all 1 Say to me, Alice." 
 
 " I'll tell papa, I said," answered Alice doggedly. 
 
 " Then, Lina, vat is it all 1" 
 
 Lina, who had taken refuge as far as she could from the 
 strife of tongues at the door, looked eagerly to her sister 
 for permission. 
 
 " O Lally, may I tell Friiulein]" 
 
 "No!"
 
 " CATCH ! " 83 
 
 " Just you tell me what mischief you two were at when 
 ye lockit the door in my face," said nurse, beginning again. 
 
 "I'll tell papa — no one else." 
 
 Then Alice seated herself on the sofa, and put her fingers 
 in her ears. 
 
 " Scold away now as much as you like," said she. " Come 
 on, both of you, and have it out. But I'm going to tell 
 papa." 
 
 Neither nurse nor governess took advantage of Alice's 
 offer. Her last speech seemed to have irritated nurse be- 
 yond all power of expression. She looked in expectation 
 at Fraulein ; but when that imhappy lady turned away 
 silently, and, seating herself by the fire, put her hands up 
 to her face, nurse gave a snort of intense indignation, and 
 walked out of the room. 
 
 But before she had closed the door, Alice jumped up 
 and called after her — " Stop !" 
 
 " What are ye wanting, Miss Alice Hope 1 ?" said nurse, 
 facing round again, with awful sternness in her voice and 
 countenance. 
 
 " Catch !" 
 
 Then the " Confession of Faith" came whirling through the 
 air and landed at her feet, sprawling open on the threshold. 
 One terrible look nurse gave to the children, but never a 
 word she spoke. In awful silence she gathered up her 
 property and carried it away, making no attempts to add 
 force to poor Friiulein's remark about the rudeness of 
 throwing things. 
 
 And so ended Alice and Lina's first attempt to do good 
 in the world and benefit the human race. They had plenty 
 of time to meditate upon it, as they sat on the sofa where 
 Fraulein had condemned them to remain quietly till tea- 
 time. And even to Alien; the events of the afternoon seemed
 
 81 GENERAL DISTRESS. 
 
 on the whole disastrous. Things had been far indeed from 
 going as smoothly as they had expected. Nor were they 
 without a sense of wrong-doing and mismanagement on 
 their own part ; which was increased by the weary and 
 dejected appearance of their governess, whose much-needed 
 rest had been broken by the disturbance downstairs. 
 
 Fraulein made no further attempt at investigating what 
 the matter had been. Indeed, in her own heart she very 
 much objected to nurse's raids in the schoolroom, and did 
 not find it very difficult to account for the children having 
 locked her out. Probably she was quite as much displeased 
 with nurse's interfei'ence as with Alice and Lina's rudeness. 
 But the general result had been distress to herself; and 
 she was inclined to be very doleful when apologies were 
 offered to her at tea-time. 
 
 " I'm sorry you were wakened up, Fraulein," said Lina. 
 " It wasn't our fault, though, for we made no noise at all. 
 Is your head much worse 1 ?" 
 
 " It does not matter, Lina ; I shall not leave you again, 
 although it may be worse." 
 
 " Not leave us alone again ! Never go away on Sunday 
 afternoon again !" exclaimed Lina in dismay. 
 
 But Alice, who was busy cutting down the loaf into 
 very thick and xmeven slices, paused in her work to say, 
 in emphatic reassurance, — "Never mind ; I'm going to tell 
 papa."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EVERYTHING GOES WRONG. 
 
 LICE and Lina were very busy next day, in 
 making preparations for the return of their 
 father and stepmother after a week's absence. 
 It is true that Miss Stauer was hard-hearted enough to 
 deny even a half-holiday to give to their work ; and the 
 gardener positively refused to allow the greenhouse to be 
 despoiled. But the children were not to be daunted : 
 lesson-hours were not so very long, after all ; and if flowers 
 were not to be had, evergreens and leaves could be got in 
 loads. So they filled the drawing-room vases full, and 
 hung wreaths of green wherever they could reach. They 
 even attempted to festoon the stair-railings with ivy ; but 
 finding the work would be somewhat laborious, they gave 
 it up, and concentrated their energies on the hall, where 
 stags' horns and stuffed foxes turned out to be wonderfully 
 convenient for wreaths and pendants. 
 
 In the spring the children had welcomed young Mrs. Hope 
 to her home for the first time. They were welcoming her 
 more gladly now; for the few days during which the house- 
 hold had returned to its old ways had only shown them 
 how much life and brightness she had brought to it with 
 her. Mother and daughters she and the little girls could 
 never be, although there was no remembrance of another 
 nearer and dearer to come between them. Mrs. Hope was
 
 86 THE HOPEFIELD HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 very young. She had not as yet taken any charge of the 
 children at all — had, indeed, seen very little of them : 
 even friends they had not yet had time to become. But 
 Alice and Lina regarded their stepmother with that intense 
 admiration which little girls feel for a grown-up young lady 
 who has not yet left childhood far enough behind her to 
 lose enjoyment of fun, and is yet endowed with all the 
 power and privileges of mature age. 
 
 For the last week, the house without " mamma" had 
 seemed very dull to Alice and Lina. They missed her at 
 meal-times ; their evenings in the schoolroom (evenings 
 such as they used always to have) were long and weari- 
 some. Yet they had scarcely come to consider her as one 
 of the family at all — she was only a very pleasant and 
 amusing visitor : mistress of the house, they had certainly 
 never imagined her. 
 
 Nurse understood things better ; and she scarcely made 
 any attempt to conceal her dislike to the new state of 
 affairs. She had ruled at Hopefield absolutely during the 
 ten years its master was a widower ; and it was undoubtedly 
 hard for her to let the reins slip from her grasp now. And, 
 though Mrs. Hope never resented it when nurse gave her 
 advice, it was becoming more and more evident that she 
 meant to take her own way in the management of the 
 establishment, and that the office of housekeeper, which 
 the old woman had filled so long and so well, would be 
 merely nominal. Nurse might and did intimidate Friiulein, 
 and interfere with her arrangements : she had ruled the 
 children with a rod of iron, and made the servants quail 
 before her; but Mr. Hope's young wife had skill and spirit 
 enough to take her own place, and nurse found she had 
 met her match. 
 
 As yet there had been no open break between them —
 
 OMENS OF EVIL. 87 
 
 Mrs. Hope's good-nature and ready tact had prevented 
 that; and perhaps no one but nurse herself knew that 
 the time of her power was over. The few days of her 
 mistress's absence had been therefore precious to her. 
 Everything was once more in her hands ; but the very 
 consciousness of the instability of her authority made her 
 more despotic ; and now she herself was the only one in 
 the house who was not looking forward with joy to 
 Mrs. Hope's return. 
 
 The little girls were afraid she would pull down their 
 decorations and order them off to the schoolroom, when she 
 found them busy at work in the hall. However, she 
 passed, and walked upstairs without taking any notice. 
 Had they been quicker at reading omens, they might have 
 understood her silence as boding them no good; but to 
 Alice at least it seemed only to show she was beaten, — and 
 she said so to Lina, and rejoiced accordingly. Nurse could 
 hear them laughing and talking about her, as she ascended 
 slowly to her own room. She waxed more and more 
 indignant as she went, but her heart was sore too. Alice 
 and Lina had often been rude to her before, but until 
 yesterday they had never defied her. Were the children 
 whom she had nursed and cared for from babyhood 
 turning against her now 1 It was hard enough that her 
 authority over others was passing away; but were the 
 little girls also to shake it off and pass from under her 
 charge, leaving her of no use and no account in the house 
 at all 1 That was what could not be borne ; and as she 
 said that to herself in firm determination, she never thought 
 whether she was taking the right way to retain her influ- 
 ence over the children she had really loved so faithfully. 
 
 " I wonder whether Fraulein would let us put a wreath 
 on her," said Lina meditatively, when she and her sister
 
 88 THE children's welcome. 
 
 were getting tired of sticking green branches in every pos- 
 sible corner. But when the proposal was made to Fraulein, 
 she declined it firmly, — urging, with some reason, that the 
 effect would not be fine when taken in connection with the 
 red flannel. So the little girls had to be content with 
 crowning their own heads with wonderful chaplets of 
 brightly-tinted leaves; and though the string which tied 
 them together was rather too evident, yet on the whole 
 they were inclined to think their efforts at personal adorn- 
 ment very successful. The finishing touches were just put 
 to the wreaths when the carriage-wheels were heard, and, 
 a few moments after, the children were kissing their step- 
 mother under the leafy boughs which overhung the hall 
 door. 
 
 " What is all this for 1 " asked Mr. Hope, looking round 
 in some astonishment. But his wife turned to him a quick 
 look with some reproach, as well as a good deal of amuse- 
 ment, in it; and Alice answered quickly, "It's because 
 mamma's come again ! " 
 
 Mr. Hope gave a slight smile, more in answer to the 
 look than the words, then turned to the door again to 
 speak with George. The children were not disappointed 
 that he expressed no admiration for their work — they had 
 not expected that he would. He generally took as little 
 notice of his daughters and their doings as possible; and 
 nurse, in her injunctions to the children to "keep out of 
 papa's way," and " not to disturb papa," had unconsciously 
 taught them to regard him as an ogre, who was very easily 
 offended, and whom it was in every way well to avoid. 
 So Alice and Lina were relieved when their father remained 
 behind, and they were left alone to lead Mrs. Hope upstairs 
 in triumph. Their stepmother did not fail to acknowledge 
 the efforts made to do her honour, and if there was any
 
 THE VISIT TO FRAULEIN. 89 
 
 tinge of raillery in the praise she bestowed, it was not 
 evident to the children. 
 
 " We've got some tea for you up in the drawing-room, 
 mamma," said Lina. " And Alice helped the dinner twice 
 last week when Fraulein's face-ache was bad, so she says I 
 may pour it out for you." 
 
 " How very kind of Alice ! " 
 
 " I hate pouring out tea ; Lina may do it, if she likes," 
 said Alice, who could at least boast the virtue of honesty. 
 " Come upstairs and get it before it's too much infused." 
 
 But Mrs. Hope insisted on paying a visit to the school- 
 room first, to inquire after Fraulein's health. I am not 
 sure that, after all, she was much more interested in her 
 symptoms than Alice had been ; rheumatism and tooth- 
 ache are things for which one is not apt to get much sym- 
 pathy; but Mrs. Hope cei-tainly seemed as if she cared 
 about her suffering, and the charm of her manner was 
 soothing to Friiulein. "When, after a very few minutes, 
 the children succeeded in taking her away to the drawing- 
 room, Friiulein had already begun to feel that her presence 
 in the house was enough to banish dulness, and pervade 
 everything with a pleasant freshness which it had wanted 
 before. 
 
 Until that summer, the drawing-room at Hopefield had 
 been unused as far back as the children's memory could 
 reach ; but it was nevertheless a cheery, homelike room, 
 with large windows, and pretty chintz-covered furniture, 
 made more for comfort than ornament. Alice and Lina 
 had the tea set on a little round table beside their step- 
 mother's favourite low chair, and they had put a wreath 
 round the sugar-basin, and stuck leaves into the plate with 
 the cake. 
 
 Mrs. Hope sat down, with her gloves in her lap, and
 
 90 TELLING THE NEWS. 
 
 surveyed her stepdaughters and their decorations, while 
 Lina poured out tea with all the solemnity which befitted 
 her dignified office. 
 
 " Are you going to stay at Hopefield for a while now, 
 mamma 1 ?" Alice asked. 
 
 "Well, yes; I think so," Mrs. Hope answered, with 
 equal gravity of tone, and a momentary look of laughter 
 in her eyes. 
 
 She was not at all pretty, unless a singular brightness of 
 expression and manner, and a knack of dressing becomingly, 
 can make one so : her only real beauty was an immense 
 quantity of wavy dark hair, which was gathered in the 
 most elaborate of plaits under her pretty hat. Tired she 
 did not seem in the least, in spite of a night-journey from 
 England, and a morning of shopping in town ; and while 
 she sipped her tea, she gave the children details of the 
 marriage-party she had been attending, as if she enjoyed 
 telling her news as much as Alice and Lina did hearing 
 them. 
 
 "And how have things been going at Hopefield 1 ?" she 
 asked at last, when the first eagerness of the children's 
 curiosity had been satisfied. 
 
 " Well enough — until yesterday," she was told. 
 
 " Until yesterday ! and what then 1 Did you get into 
 low spirits, Alice 1 " 
 
 " No ! " said Alice, with a sniff of intense scorn at the 
 bare idea. 
 
 " Oh — it was only nurse who was angry," Lina said, 
 looking rather doubtfully at her sister. 
 
 " Only nui'se interfering when she had no right," added 
 Alice. 
 
 " This is very nice bread and butter," said Mrs. Hope, 
 deliberately helping herself to one of the wafer-like slices
 
 AN UNFORTUNATE RESULT. 91 
 
 which were the pride of the little girls' heart. " Did you 
 and Lina cut it ] There's a good deal here, though, and it's 
 a pity it should be wasted. Suppose you come and help 
 me to eat it." 
 
 So the two little girls came near to share the dainties 
 they had themselves provided ; but anger and sullenness 
 had gathered over Alice's face, and Lina looked troubled 
 and uneasy. Not even the pleasure of eating thin bread 
 and butter cut by themselves could banish the recollection 
 of the dilemma of yesterday, and the thought of the appeal 
 to their father which Alice was determined to make. Per- 
 haps it was the expression on his daughters' faces which 
 first attracted Mr. Hope's attention when he entered the 
 drawing-room; and if so, the result was rather unfortu- 
 nate. 
 
 " You ought not to be here just now," he said, in a tone 
 of some annoyance. " Run away to the schoolroom, both 
 of you. You must be very tired, Lottie ; why are you not 
 resting, instead of letting yourself be worried by these 
 children V 
 
 Mrs. Hope laughed, and said she never allowed herself 
 to be worried ; but the children knew that their father's 
 word was law, and moved off accordingly. Only at the 
 door Alice made a pause, and, screwing up all her courage, 
 said in a tone which consciousness of her own audacity 
 rendered peculiarly abrupt, — 
 
 " I want to speak to you, papa ! " 
 
 Mr. Hope looked rather surprised, but merely said, 
 " Another time, then." 
 
 " There's a long evening still to come ! " added Mrs. 
 Hope, in compassion for Alice's disappointed face. 
 
 For this time the little girls were balked ; but Alice at 
 least was not a child who was inclined to put off a disagree-
 
 92 STOLID DETERMINATION. 
 
 able thing as long as possible. Do it at once and have it 
 over, was her motto ; an excellent principle, though she 
 sometimes carried it rather far. 
 
 On this occasion she would not have confessed, even to 
 Lina, how uncomfortable the idea of an explanation with 
 her father made her ; she could scarcely have told why, for 
 if he was not given to petting his children, at least they 
 had never heard a harsh word from him. I think it was 
 the fact that the course she had determined on was utterly 
 unheard-of that made it seem so daring. In all her 
 life Alice had never carried her difficulties to her father 
 before, and she felt that the measure was an extreme one. 
 Always very quiet and reserved, Mr. Hope was really a 
 stranger to his children, and it had never been any grief to 
 them that, ever since they could remember, he had spent 
 much of his time away from home. 
 
 So Alice concealed her fears by an appearance of stolid 
 determination, and seated herself on the stair to wait for 
 her father. Time passed on, but he did not come. Once 
 Alice heard the drawing-room door open ; but it was Mrs. 
 Hope who passed out and away to her own room, humming 
 a tune as she went. Mr. Hope would be alone now, but 
 Alice regarded the drawing-room as a forbidden apartment 
 to her for the present, and she did not dare to return there. 
 When it was nearly six o'clock, Jessie came and found her 
 planted on the lowest step of the stair, still in her morning 
 dress, with her wreath falling in pieces and straggling in 
 stray leaves among her untidy hair. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Alice, what a head ! You can never go to 
 your tea that way, and it's setting just now. Come and 
 get on your other dress, like a good girl." 
 
 Alice put her face on her hands and stuck her elbows 
 into her lap, as she remarked that she had something better
 
 A LOST OPPORTUNITY. 93 
 
 to do. But Jessie was not ignorant of ways and means of 
 managing her young ladies. " You'd better come along," 
 said she. " Miss Lina's all ready. I'm not going to tidy 
 you after your tea — you needn't think that ; and I suppose 
 you'll want to go to the drawing-room. So you'd better 
 come along." 
 
 Alice gave in, and went off to her own room, where the 
 process of dressing was going on with great rapidity, when 
 she suddenly twisted herself out of Jessie's hands, and 
 turned round on her with a cry of rage and disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " Mercy me, Alice ! what's the matter V 
 
 Alice put herself in a melodramatic attitude, and pointed 
 to the window with one bare arm. Jessie peered out with 
 some curiosity, but was disappointed to see nothing re- 
 markable, unless it was her master, who was walking 
 quietly along in the direction of the gardens. 
 
 " you wretched creature !" said Alice. " If you had 
 only let me wait five minutes longer!" 
 
 " Well, what about it 1 What have you got in your 
 head now 1 ?" 
 
 " It's papa. He's gone downstah'S, and gone out — and 
 I haven't spoken to him. It's all your blame, Jessie." 
 
 " Keep a civil tongue in your head, please," retorted 
 Jessie indignantly. " And stand still, and let me put on 
 your frock. What are you wanting with your papa 1 It's 
 not often that you're so set on speaking to him. I dare say 
 it'll keep, Miss Alice ; there's plenty of time." 
 
 Alice groaned deeply, but she again yielded herself into 
 Jessie's hands, and said never a word till her dress was 
 fastened and all her ribbons tied. Alice was generally 
 Impatient of ribbons, but her stepmother liked them, ami 
 for her sake she had been more submissive of late ; and
 
 94 "QUITE BEYOND HER." 
 
 to-night Jessie did not spare her one. "When she was re- 
 leased at last with an approving " Now, then," she turned 
 round upon her astonished maid : "I suppose you don't 
 know the mischief you've done," said Alice. " You don't 
 even care. You think of nothing but how to make dresses 
 and tie bows, and get new ways of doing hairs. You don't 
 want to work in the vineyard. If you're worth anything 
 to anybody, it's because you can't help it. You don't 
 mean it at all ! You'd far rather stand in the market- 
 place. Lina and I aren't like that, and I'm glad we aren't. 
 We mean to be laboiirers ; and I tell you, Jessie, even if 
 you don't want to do good work yourself, it's awfully wrong 
 of you to hinder other people." 
 
 Alice bounced out of the room, leaving Jessie transfixed 
 with astonishment at this unexpected and, to her, utterly 
 incomprehensible outburst. " I never saw the like of that 
 girl in all my life," said the bewildered damsel at last, 
 when she had recovered sufficiently to be able to begin put- 
 ting away Alice's things. After a time composure of mind 
 returned to her, but no enlightenment came. Is it under- 
 standing that makes one love, or loving that makes one 
 understand ? It is hard to say. Jessie cherished but a 
 moderate affection for " Miss Alice," and was prone to say 
 that she was " quite beyond her;" by which, however, she 
 meant nothing complimentary. 
 
 It was unfortunately true that for the present Alice had 
 lost her opportunity of speaking to her father. Mr. Hope 
 did not return to the house till it was just dinner-time, 
 and the schoolroom tea was even then going on. Alice 
 groaned again when he passed the schoolroom windows 
 just as the gong was sounding, but Lina slipped her hand 
 into hers and whispered words of comfort. " It's all right, 
 Lally. It'll be sure all to come right. Don't give up hope
 
 " BOTHER GERMAN." 95 
 
 — I know it will ; better, perhaps, even than we thought. 
 You'll find another time to speak to papa." 
 
 " Well, but to-night, though," said Alice. " I can't 
 wait, I tell you, Lina. I must have it settled to-night." 
 
 " Perhaps it'll be to-night. I hope it'll be to-night ; but 
 we must wait and have patience, Lally." 
 
 " Wait and have patience ! I'm sick of waiting and 
 having patience. Sticking still and doing nothing ; that's 
 what waiting and having patience means. Papa will be 
 sure to have letters to write, and go to the library after 
 dinner." 
 
 " But we're not allowed to go into the library." 
 
 " I'll catch him on the way." 
 
 Lina shook her head. " If he has letters to write, he'll 
 say, ' Not now ; I am busy. Another time, Alice.' " 
 
 " Well, I'll catch him coming out, then," said Alice. 
 " I'll sit on the door-mat and wait till he comes out, though 
 it's twelve o'clock. I will have it settled to-night." 
 
 Here Friiulein, who had been for some time occupied 
 with her own thoughts, suddenly woke up to the conscious- 
 ness that her pupils were using their native language. 
 
 " German, children, German," she said reprovingly, 
 breaking into the conversation. 
 
 " Bother German," said Alice, and relapsed into silence 
 for the rest of tea-time. But in a little while affairs took 
 a most unexpected turning. For with the table-maid, when 
 she arrived to take away the schoolroom tea-things, came a 
 message which electrified the party, — " Miss Alice and Miss 
 Lina, you are to go and speak to your papa in the library." 
 
 All the time Friiulein had been at Hopefield, such a 
 thing had never happened before, and she was equally 
 astonished by Mr. Hope's summons and the alacrity with 
 which it was obeyed. For Alice and Lina rose imme-
 
 96 THINGS GOING WRONG. 
 
 diately, and went away in great joy. Everything which 
 had seemed so dark before was in a moment bright, and 
 the change was reflected in their faces. There was no need 
 for Alice to keep a weary vigil on the library door-mat. 
 Papa had remembered that she wished to speak to him, 
 had himself appointed the time and made arrangements for 
 the interview. Was not this in itself almost a guarantee that 
 he would lend a favourable ear to the tale they had to tell 1 
 
 Mr. Hope was already in the library, standing by the 
 fire reading a letter, from which he looked up, somewhat 
 perplexed, at the entrance of his little daughters, as if he 
 had forgotten why they should be there. And Lina, re- 
 membering that papa must be very busy, had time for a 
 good deal of gratitude on account of his interest in their 
 affairs before Mr. Hope seemed to recollect his reason for 
 summoning them. As for Alice, she was only uncei'tain 
 where to begin her history ; there was so much to tell, and 
 it was so important, that for once she hesitated. " I am 
 sorry to hear you were so rude to nurse yesterday," said 
 Mr. Hope, at last, gravely. 
 
 Then in a moment the children saw how it was. The 
 ground was cut away beneatli their feet. Nurse had been 
 befoi'ehand with them — had found opportunity to make 
 her appeal to their father first — perhaps at the very moment 
 when Jessie was leading away Alice an unwilling captive. 
 Everything was not going to come right, after all. Every- 
 thing was, on the contrary, going to come very far wrong. 
 They were mistaken in thinking that a kind Providence 
 would guide their steps; they and their plans had all 
 fallen into the hands of a certain evil and irresistible 
 genius called Ill-luck, who is said by many to have a great 
 deal to do with the affairs of this world. 
 
 There was a pause of complete consternation at first,
 
 THE SCENE IN THE LIBRARY. 97 
 
 and then Alice turned round upon her sister. " We must 
 give it up, Lina. It's all over. There's no use of trying 
 any more." 
 
 " O papa, let us tell you about it," pleaded Lina, " for 
 it's a very long story." 
 
 Mr. Hope looked up again from the letter to which his 
 eyes had wandered back during the pause. He was very 
 busy, and could ill spare the time to talk with his chil- 
 dren ; besides, the duty of rebuking them was an embar- 
 rassing and disagreeable one to him. The first complaint 
 made by an old and faithful servant could not be passed 
 over ; but he wished to set matters right between her and 
 the children as speedily as possible, and he had little doubt 
 it would be easily done. " I've no time to hear a long 
 story now, and there is no need. What nurse has told me 
 is quite enough. I'm very much surprised that you should 
 have given annoyance to nurse, who has always been so 
 kind and good ; but I dare say you are very sorry for it now 
 yourselves. So, Alice — you are the eldest, and, I'm sorry 
 to say, seem to have behaved the worst — -go and beg her 
 pardon, and then we need say no more about the matter." 
 
 " Oh, I'll go too," said Lina. " If Alice has to go and ask 
 nurse to forgive her, I'll go too." 
 
 " That's right, Lina," said her father in a tone of approval, 
 looking up at his daughters with more attention than he 
 had yet given them. He believed that the children must 
 naturally love and trust their old nurse better than any one 
 else in the world, and probably he mistook the generosity 
 which made Lina insist on sharing her sister's troubles for 
 an anxiety to be reconciled to nurse. When he noticed 
 the expression on Alice and Lina's faces, he was somewhat 
 puzzled ; but, anxious to get done with the affair, he 
 added, — 
 
 (564) 7
 
 98 HARD WORDS. 
 
 " Go now — the sooner the better. I am sure nurse will 
 be glad to see you." 
 
 " I would be glad to see her dead, and buried, and in her 
 coffin," said Alice, with great earnestness and solemnity. 
 " She's a wicked woman, and she's making us wicked too. 
 I'll not ask her pai'don. She ought to come and ask mine ; 
 but if she did, I wouldn't give it to her ! " 
 
 " Alice ! " was all Mr. Hope could say. For the time he 
 had forgotten his important letter, and only thought of his 
 little girls standing before him in strange, unaccountable, 
 obstinate anger. He was inexpressibly pained, shocked, 
 and surprised. He had seen very little of his children, but 
 he had always believed them to be nice children, and was 
 looking forward to knowing them better as they grew 
 older. Now, suddenly his eldest daughter appeared before 
 him, not innocently humble and ready to yield to superior 
 wisdom, as became her years, but with strong, passionate 
 feelings of her own, which she expressed in plain language 
 and with the most daring effrontery. Lina was nearly cry- 
 ing — she was more disappointed than angry, poor child ; 
 but Alice stood a little in front of her, with a look in her 
 eyes as if she were bidding the whole world defiance. 
 
 " It's quite true — all quite true ! " she said, looking 
 straight into her father's eyes, not so much angry with him 
 or even nurse as with the fate that had come in different 
 human forms to frustrate her efforts to do good. Nurse, 
 Jessie, and her father had all come between her and the 
 work she had meant to do. One after another they had 
 come, and now she and Lina were defeated. They would 
 give it up — there was no use trying any more ; and Alice 
 had a sort of satisfaction in repeating what she really be- 
 lieved to be a ti-uth, — that she was being forced to become 
 wicked, and that she was going to yield.
 
 CHILDISH PLEASURES AND SORROWS. 99 
 
 " Alice, you must know you are speaking very foolishly 
 and improperly," said Mr. Hope, when he found his voice. 
 " Remember, I do not wish to see you again till you have 
 begged nurse's pardon. After a little, I think you will wish 
 to do it yourself. You will be sorry for what you have 
 said." 
 
 " Never, in all my life ! " said Alice fii-mly. 
 
 So the two who had come so brightly into the library 
 went away in grief and anger. Surely those who say that 
 childhood knows no real troubles, have left their own young 
 days so far behind that the recollection of them has grown 
 very misty : for the faculty of living in the present, which 
 makes children's pleasures so intense, makes their sorrows 
 equally keen; and though no shadow of a possible future 
 ever darkens for them the joy of to-day, neither is the 
 gloom of their times of sadness ever lightened by the hope 
 of a brighter to-morrow. It is true, also, that if, as is often 
 said, "it takes very little to please children," it takes very 
 little to grieve them, too. The illness of a kitten, the part- 
 ing from a rabbit, a rainy forenoon, the disappointment of a 
 tea-party, — are enough to throw a little girl into agonies of 
 dull and hopeless grief, which makes the whole world for 
 the time a waste and weary place. Mr. Hope doubtless 
 believed that Alice and Lina had been, as befitted their 
 nature and years, foolishly and guilelessly happy all their 
 lives ; but nevertheless they had gone through their troubles 
 like other children. They had had their dreary, weary, 
 unoccupied days, when the weather prevented their going 
 out and there was nothing to do in the house; they had 
 had their ill-tempered days, beginning with a fit of passion 
 which had something pleasureable in it, and ending in for- 
 lorn sulkiness which brought only misery ; they had had 
 their days of sickness, when there were beef-tea and medicine
 
 100 A SULLEN MOOD. 
 
 to be taken, and they lay in bed and counted the panes of 
 glass in the windows and the flowers on the wall-paper 
 dining long hours which the clock ticked out with terrible 
 slowness. But I think that the wretchedness of that even- 
 ing had more of hopelessness in it than they had ever felt 
 before. It seemed as if the very foundations of things were 
 shaken. 
 
 All their lives they had heard that God would help 
 them to do right if they only asked him, and now in the 
 time of their need he had turned away from their prayer 
 and disappointed their hopes. They had thought some 
 work had been given them at last; and when they stretched 
 out their hand to take it, it passed away beyond their 
 reach. At the Master's call they had left the market- 
 place. They had been so willing to go — they had meant to 
 labour so faithfully ; but as they came near the A'ineyard 
 the door was shut in their face. 
 
 Neither Alice nor Lina went to the drawing-room that 
 evening. They sat in their own room, and the trouble of 
 dressing was spent in vain, for Mrs. Hope saw nothing of 
 the clean muslins and bright ribbons which had been put on 
 in her honour. Alice sat on a low chair in her sulkiest 
 attitude, her hands grasping the arms, her feet straight out 
 1 )efore her, and her eyes staring into vacancy. Lina would 
 scarcely have dared to speak to her, even if she had not 
 been so miserable that she had nothing to say. She 
 crouched at her sister's side on the floor, making herself 
 into a shapeless heap of green and white, as she covered her 
 head with the upper skirt of her dress, and wept and medi- 
 tated by turns. Alice did not shed a tear. She used to 
 say that she never cried, and it was certainly true that she 
 very seldom did. 
 
 No one camo near them, for Jessie had gone out to see
 
 SLEEPY, AND FRIGHTENED. 101 
 
 her father, and, taking it for granted that the little girls 
 would remain up longer than usual, was taking a prolonged 
 leave of absence. It got dark round about, and then the 
 moon rose, and began to send faint streaks of pale light 
 through the white window-curtains. The autumn night 
 was clear and frosty, and Lina got thoroughly chilled in 
 her thin dress. She felt quite cramped when she uncurled 
 herself and rose up at last. Ever since it had begun to get 
 dusk she had kept her eyes perseveringly closed ; and now 
 she gave a half-shriek when she opened them, for it seemed 
 that the moonbeams threw into terrible relief all sorts of 
 dark figures in the corners. To stay up longer in a dark 
 room was not to be thought of. She had cried till she had 
 dulled the pain of her disappointment, and was beginning 
 to feel sleepy. There was one place still in the world 
 where she could find safety from ghosts and forgetfulness 
 of grief. 
 
 " Let us go to bed, Lally," she said, laying her hand 
 on her sister's arm. "I'm so miserable — and I'm — I'm 
 frightened." 
 
 She said the last word in a very low tone, having an idea 
 that any supernatural visitants who might be lurking in 
 the room would have a dislike to being alluded to, even in 
 the most distant and respectful manner. If it were so, 
 their indignation must have been roused by the scornful 
 laugh which was Alice's only answer. But she jumped up 
 when her sister spoke, and flinging the door wide, let in a 
 flood of gaslight from the passage. It was a comfort to get 
 out of the chamber which had seemed so eerie, and Lina no 
 more dared sit still after Alice had left than she would 
 have dared to rise and cross the room alone. So she fol- 
 lowed her sister eagerly, and at the door Alice turned 
 round and spoke to her for the first time.
 
 102 lally's determination. 
 
 "You're sleepy, and you're frightened — are you'?" said 
 she, not unkindly. " Poor old Lina ! " 
 
 The sympathizing words were a great consolation to Lina, 
 who had been worrying herself by the thought that hers 
 had been the plan which had caused all this disturbance, 
 and involved her sister in even deeper trouble than herself. 
 She put her arm round Alice's neck, and began rubbing 
 her cheek against her shoulder; and Alice submitted to the 
 caress with so much patience, that Lina, moved by her 
 unwonted tenderness, began to cry again. 
 
 " Don't, now; what's the good 1 ? / never go on that way. 
 It's all up," said Alice, heaving a mighty sigh, " so we may 
 as well let it alone. "We'll get it all over to-night, and then 
 we'll go to bed and be wicked ever after. I'm never going 
 to try to do any good again." 
 
 " O Lally, Lally ! " sobbed Lina, not remonstrating, only 
 lamenting. 
 
 "And if," said Alice, going on to relate the result of 
 her long and silent meditations, in a voice which her deter- 
 mination to speak steadily rendered hard and unnatural — 
 " And if Jesus Christ comes and asks us why we stood all 
 our day idle, we must say, We tried to work, but nurse 
 stopped us, — papa and Jessie and nurse together stopped 
 us, — and so we couldn't." 
 
 "0 Lally! I didn't think everything could all have gone 
 wrong. I didn't think anybody could have stopped us, 
 when we asked God to help." 
 
 " Neither did I," Alice answered in the same tone ; 
 " but nurse did stop us, you see. Well, are you coming to 
 beg her pardon 1 " 
 
 " Do you really mean it, Lally 1 ?" 
 
 "I said I wouldn't do it; but papa said he wouldn't see 
 me again till I did. And I can't starve. Might do with-
 
 the nurse's thoughts. 103 
 
 out my breakfast to-morrow, but then I should want my 
 dinner ; so it's better to do it and have it over. Come 
 along, if you're coming; but I don't see any use." 
 
 "I'm coming too, Lally." 
 
 So the two went together to nurse's room, — a journey 
 which occupied some time, for every step of the way 
 seemed to cost Alice a fresh struggle. When she came to 
 the door, she fairly turned back and walked off, with her 
 hands clenched and a very disagreeable expression on her 
 face ; then stopped, and stood still in the passage for a few 
 minutes before she conquered again, and returned. Lina, 
 who had stood waiting for her with her hand on the door- 
 handle, turned it softly, and she and Alice stood looking 
 into the snug little parlour which was nurse's room. The 
 old woman herself was sitting by the fire, swiftly and 
 mechanically knitting a stocking. Her busy needles went 
 on unceasingly, but her eyes and thoughts were far away 
 from her work. For a time she had forgotten her house- 
 hold responsibilities and her own injured dignity; through 
 them her mind had wandered back to the fair and stately 
 young mistress with whom she had first come to Hopefield 
 — her own dear Miss Caroline, who, in dying, had left her 
 little daughters to her old nurse's love and care. Well, 
 she had been good to the children, she said to herself as 
 she sat alone in the firelight ; she had kept her promise 
 faithfully. For yeai-s she had watched over them day and 
 night. Never were babies better cared for, healthier, 
 prettier. Nurse had loved them so deeply, that she 
 grudged no trouble. If Miss Carrie could only see them 
 now, what tall, handsome girls they had grown! Nurse 
 took all the credit to herself of Alice and Lina's health and 
 beauty. 
 
 Poor old woman! if her words had been hard to the
 
 104 THE children's visit. 
 
 children, I do not think her feelings ever were; probably, 
 too, she was not conscious of her own rough way of speak- 
 ing, and had no idea of the effect of it on other people. 
 Certainly, looking over all these past years that she had 
 taken charge of Alice and Lina, she saw nothing to re- 
 proach herself with, until she came to the day that was 
 not yet over. Of course, she had scolded the children, 
 but that was for their good unmistakably, — the more 
 children were scolded, the better, — she never would have 
 thought of blaming herself for that; but to tell tales of 
 them to their father, and bring them under his displeasure, 
 was against nurse's own principles. 
 
 If she had blamed her little girls constantly to their 
 faces before, she had no less constantly praised them behind 
 their backs; nothing but strong irritation, arising from 
 many and varied causes, could have made her complain 
 of them. Remorse had set in almost immediately, and 
 now she would have given much to recall the interview 
 with Mr. Hope, when he had stopped to shake hands with 
 her at the drawing-room door, and she had broken out into 
 angry words about the children. He had told her then 
 they should come to apologize ; and, weary of the estrange- 
 ment from them, she had sat waiting for them in her room 
 all evening. When she looked up and saw the children 
 at the door, unmistakable pleasure came into her face; 
 but the two, who were hurt and angry still, fancied she was 
 only triumphing over their humiliation. In spite of the 
 mournful effect which her crushed muslins and her tearful 
 eyes gave her, Lina made her apology with shy haughti- 
 ness. 
 
 " We were told to come to you," said she, in a tone 
 which was anything but conciliatory. " I beg your pardon, 
 nurse."
 
 AN AWFUL PROSPECT. 105 
 
 Alice's speech was to the same effect, but given with 
 moi*e vehemence of manner and words. 
 
 "I ask your pardon, because papa told me to; but you 
 may keep it to yourself, for all that I care," was her way of 
 putting it. Then Alice and Lina went off quickly, with- 
 out giving time or chance for any words of peace, and 
 nurse remained alone, with anger rising again in her heart 
 in place of the compunction she had been feeling. 
 
 As for the children, they were more miserable than they 
 had been before. When they went back to their room, it 
 looked even drearier than ever, though by this time the 
 gas was lighted and the curtains drawn. Even Alice was 
 obliged to brush away some tears with indignant haste, as 
 she and Lina undressed quickly ; and both were too much 
 disheartened to say anything till after Alice was in bed, 
 with her face buried in the pillow. Then Lina, seeing 
 before her the awful prospect of a lonely walk across the 
 room in the dark, made some efforts to strive against her 
 fate. 
 
 "Are you in bed for altogether, Alice?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Shall I put out the gas, then, Lally?" 
 
 " Oh yes; of course." 
 
 " Out, or down 1 " 
 
 " Out." 
 
 " Won't down do 1 Jessie will be sure to look in when 
 she comes, then she'll turn it right off." 
 
 Alice flung off the clothes suddenly, and started up in 
 bed with her hair about her face, glaring at her sister. 
 
 " I don't want Jessie to come, — Jessie shan't come," 
 said she. " Put out the gas, Lina ! " 
 
 So poor Lina gathered up all her courage, and turned 
 the screw; then stood still a minute, afraid to move. If
 
 106 A SLEEPLESS PILLOW. 
 
 Alice would only speak to her, the darkness would not 
 seem so terrible; but Alice was hard-hearted, and kept 
 silence; so the only help poor Lina had was from a kindly 
 glow of unmistakable gaslight which came in under the 
 door. Her heart was beating loud as she took her final 
 scamper over the floor, ending in a flying leap into bed, 
 lest some ghostly hand should come from underneath and 
 seize her. She was as delighted and astonished when she 
 got safely under the clothes, as if she had really gone 
 through a terrible danger, and she turned her face deter- 
 minedly to the wall, so as to leave the gnomes and goblins 
 to disport themselves about the floor unwatched and unre- 
 strained. Lina was very polite and respectful to them, 
 and, as far as she was concerned, there was no chance of 
 their being looked at till the morning, by which time all 
 ghostly beings are supposed to be willing to take themselves 
 off. But Alice would lie with her face to the front of the 
 bed, and watch the moonlight struggling through the 
 shutters ; she would laugh in the most irreverent way 
 at the queer things it made of the well-known furniture; 
 and many a ghost coming to frighten Lina had she shaken 
 and pulled about till it turned into a curtain, or perhaps 
 one of their own dresses hung up by Jessie. 
 
 Generally, in spite of the hobgoblins, the little girls had 
 a chat after they went to bed, and dropped off to sleep in 
 the midst of story -telling ; but to-night they did not talk 
 at all, and sleep would not come. Alice tossed about im- 
 patiently ; and Lina would have tossed too, only she was 
 afraid. She did not wish to see Jessie, any more than 
 Alice did ; but when at last the door opened, it was a relief, 
 and she ventured to turn round. Alice gave her an indig- 
 nant push, meaning it as a hint to keep quiet ; if Jessie 
 thought they were asleep, she would go away without com-
 
 THE STRANGE VISITANT. 107 
 
 in"- in. But whether Lina's movement was heard or not, 
 the door opened wider, and some one came sweeping in 
 with a rustling dress, and stood beside the bed. This was 
 a habit of ghosts, as Lina knew from many tales, and she 
 took firm hold of Alice's sleeve before she ventured to look 
 up. But the figure she saw was as unlike a spirit as it 
 was unlike Jessie, and Lina cried out in delighted recogni- 
 tion, " O mamma ! mamma ! " 
 
 " You're not asleep, after all ! " said Mrs. Hope. " I 
 thought not. But why did you not come to the drawing- 
 room, instead of sitting in your room all evening, and 
 going to bed alone 1 Tell me what was wrong. I've come 
 to hear all about it." 
 
 Mi's. Hope sat down on the bed, and Lina got hold of 
 one of her hands. She wore a soft scarlet shawl over her 
 evening dress ; light came in behind her through the half- 
 open door; the room once more looked human-like and 
 cosy, and the moonbeams were no longer to be seen. 
 
 " Is Alice not awake too 1 " 
 
 " Oh yes, I'm awake. But it's too late ! " was the dole- 
 ful reply. 
 
 " Too late 1 " said Mrs. Hope, naturally not quite under- 
 standing. " Well, not so very late, after all. I have often 
 heard you chattering long after this time. Why, Jessie 
 has just come in; and is much astonished to find you in bed 
 so soon. Are you so very sleepy, Alice 1 " 
 
 " Oh no, it's not that." 
 
 " Not too sleepy to talk to me 1 " 
 
 " Oh no," said Lina. " May I tell mamma, Lally 1 " 
 
 "Tell what you like, but it's too late," was all .she 
 could get out of Alice. But with this permission Lina 
 was anxious to begin, if she was sure of her stepmother's 
 patience.
 
 108 A FULL CONFESSION. 
 
 " You see, it's a very long story," she said, as she had 
 said to her father before. 
 
 " Well, then, tell me a long story," said Mrs. Hope. 
 
 So Lina began with an account of the Saturday's walk 
 and the discovery of Nelly, telling their first ideas and 
 plans about the little waif they had found, and their own 
 disappointment when Mrs. Veitch suddenly appeared to 
 claim her property. Then she went on to the Bible-reading 
 next morning, and the happy thought that had come to her 
 then, and how she and Alice had settled the whole matter 
 by themselves, and taken such measures as they thought 
 best to secure secrecy. She gave a description of Nelly's 
 introduction into the house, of the very partial success of 
 their lesson, and of its abrupt and ignominious ending when 
 nurse made an invasion into their territory and met with 
 determined resistance. When she came so far, she hesi- 
 tated, thinking that her sister would better tell the end ; 
 but she remained obstinately silent, so Lina told of Alice's 
 resolve, and how they had hoped their father would take 
 their part ; but, after all, they found that nurse had stolen a 
 march on them, and they had not even an opportunity to 
 defend themselves. Lina had been right in warning her 
 stepmother of the length of her story, for it was such a re- 
 lief to tell it all that she spared no details. Nevertheless, 
 she told it well, and Mrs. Hope was touched and interested, 
 as well as amused, as the pathetic little voice out of the 
 darkness went through the tale of what had all been terrible 
 earnest to Alice and Lina. Sad, indeed, their late experi- 
 ences had been; and, on the whole, very puzzling, but 
 never — not even the scene where the poker and tongs 
 played a part — the least laughable. 
 
 "Alice thinks there is no use saying anything more 
 about it now, because it's all over," said Lina, finish-
 
 GOOD NEWS. 109 
 
 ing up with the old complaint. "We thought it would 
 all come right, and it has all come wrong. That was 
 the hardest thing, because we thought we were sure." 
 
 " But I don't see why it's too late, dear," said Mrs. Hope. 
 
 Lina was almost angry at her want of comprehension of 
 the circumstances. 
 
 " Every one is preventing it now, mamma ! Fraulein is 
 never going to leave us alone on Sunday afternoons again, 
 and nurse will come to the schoolroom ever so often now. 
 Papa was our only hope, and he won't even hear what we 
 have got to say." 
 
 " Supposing the small child came," said Mrs. Hope, 
 coolly passing over Lina's reasons, " what would you teach 
 her?" 
 
 " Mamma," Alice broke in suddenly, " she doesn't know 
 who made the world ; she doesn't know who the first man 
 was ; she doesn't know what she's made of ! She knows 
 nothing ! " 
 
 " We could surely have taught her these things," said 
 Lina reproachfully, recognizing the doubt of their efficiency 
 as teachers which lay hidden in Mrs. Hope's question. 
 "We could siu-ely have taught her these things, mamma !" 
 
 " So you could," was the good-natiu-ed reply. " And so 
 you shall, dear, if you like. I'm afraid you'll tire of it 
 very soon ; but in the meantime, I dare say, you won't do 
 any harm to Nelly, or yourselves, or any one else." 
 
 The good news was too great to be taken in all at once. 
 
 " mamma, you are good — very good — you are awfully 
 good, mamma. But do you know — do you think — are you 
 sure we'll be allowed to do it, mamma'?" 
 
 " Can you not trust me to arrange it with papa 1 " Mrs. 
 Hope asked, laughing. 
 
 "Papa always does what mamma wants him," said
 
 110 EVERYTHING COMING RIGHT. 
 
 Alice, with suddenly reviving spirits. " Mamma isn't a 
 bit afraid of papa. And if we tell Fraulein that papa and 
 mamma allow us, it'll all be right with her. But then — 
 there's nurse." 
 
 Alice spoke the words low. There was still this last 
 obstacle, this terrible difficulty, to overcome, before they 
 were in a fair way to do good in the world, and teach Nelly 
 her Sunday lessons. But even this their stepmother would 
 undertake for them ; and she promised to do so in such a 
 tone of unaffected carelessness and yet perfect confidence, 
 that the children believed at last in her power, and she 
 was immediately exalted into a heroine in their eyes. 
 
 " I don't think nurse will interfere," said Mrs. Hope. 
 " But if she does, don't be rude, and don't get miserable ; 
 send nurse to me instead." 
 
 " Nurse is very dreadful when she's angry, mamma," said 
 Lina, in admiration of her stepmother's wonderful courage. 
 
 But Mrs. Hope only laughed, and would not be warned. 
 
 " May we have her next Sunday, mamma 1 " asked Alice. 
 
 " Oh yes ; have her next Sunday, by all means." 
 
 " And may we tell everybody that you allow us, and 
 that she may come into the schoolroom 1 " 
 
 " Yes, certainly ; I give you leave." 
 
 Then the two children laughed, and cried, and hugged 
 each other and their stepmother in an ecstasy of joy. Mrs. 
 Hope was much amused, and secretly wondered that the 
 prospect of teaching a little child for an hour or so every 
 Sunday could give such great delight ; but she said nothing 
 to damp the little girls' pleasure. 
 
 " Everything was as bad as it could be," said Lina, cling- 
 ing to her, "when you came and put it all right. Pupa, 
 Fraulein, nurse, — there were one, two, three hard things to 
 be done; and the last, the worst of them all, just like a fairy
 
 Alice's resolution. Ill 
 
 tale. You are our fairy godmother, mamma. You came 
 to help us like a good fairy." 
 
 "No, like an angel," said Alice very earnestly, taking 
 hold of her stepmother's hand and kissing it. 
 
 Probably Mrs. Hope had never received such a heartfelt 
 compliment in her life, but she could not help thinking the 
 comparison singularly inappropriate : her own stylish figure 
 and piquant face were about as unlike the generally received 
 ideas of angelic beauty as could well be. She was by no 
 means easily put about, but I think her sudden elevation 
 into the post of guardian spirit to her little stepdaughters 
 must have been rather embarrassing, for she bade them 
 a laughing good-night, and went away somewhat hastily. 
 
 When the little girls were again left lying alone in the 
 dark, Lina crept close to Alice, and put her arms round her. 
 
 " Lally, aren't you very happy 1 " 
 
 " Yery," was the immediate reply. But Lina was not 
 quite satisfied, for she knew that her sister was not given 
 to be sparing of words when all was quite right with her. 
 She waited a little longer, and then, when Alice said 
 nothing more, she spoke again softly, — 
 
 " Don't you think we ought to thank God, Lally 1 " 
 
 " Yes," said Alice, very decidedly. 
 
 " Shall we do it now, then, Lally 1 " Lina asked again ; 
 but she was suddenly taken aback by an equally sharp and 
 decisive "No." 
 
 There was silence for a minute or two ; while Lina, hurt 
 and puzzled, was wondering what her sister could mean. 
 
 " Lina," said Alice at last, " I'm going to nurse. Will 
 you come 1 " 
 
 She was out of bed before she had finished speaking, and 
 Lina after her. 
 
 Nurse was bending over her fire cooking something in
 
 112 ANOTHER VISIT TO NURSE. 
 
 a saucepan when the door opened, and looking round she 
 saw the two in their night-dresses and bare feet. She 
 stood staring at them, the spoon she had been stirring with 
 still in her hand. 
 
 " Bairns ! what are you doing here ? Go back to bed 
 with ye, or ye'll get the awfullest cold ye ever had." 
 
 Lina was afraid to approach her ; but Alice came forward 
 in her long white dress, with her silky hair about her 
 shoulders, and a strange softness all over her face and 
 shining in her eyes. She came close to the astonished old 
 woman, and putting both her arms round her, drew down 
 the stern old face to hers. 
 
 " "We've come ourselves this time, because we're sorry 
 ourselves," said Alice. " I beg your pardon, nurse." 
 
 Never, except during days of sickness, were the two so 
 thoroughly petted by nurse as they were that evening. 
 She hugged them and kissed them, she got shawls and 
 wrapped round them, and made them sit and warm their 
 feet at her fire. Finally, she carried first one and then the 
 other in her strong arms all the way back to bed, and 
 tucked the clothes about them so tight that they could 
 scarcely move. It was all very distasteful to Alice, but 
 she tried to bear it with patience as a sort of penance for 
 her sins, and only rebelled when nurse proposed to concoct 
 and administer dozes of gruel, intended as a special treat 
 as well as a preventive of cold. 
 
 But it was all over at last ; and the moment the door 
 was closed Alice was on the floor again. 
 
 " We'll do it now, Lina," she said. " Don't you get up; 
 you're frightened, and you'll catch cold. I'll do it for you; 
 unci give me your hand. We'll both say, Amen." 
 
 So Alice knelt down beside the bed, with one hand over 
 her face, and the other clasping Lina's.
 
 THE COMING OF PEACE. 11 
 
 q 
 
 " We thank thee, Lord ! " said she, speaking aloud 
 and firmly, — " we do thank thee that it's all come right ! " 
 She paused, but still knelt on, with her head bowed ; then 
 after a minute added eagerly, and with sudden rapidity, — 
 " Lord, we're sorry we behaved ill to nurse ; and we're 
 very sorry we didn't believe in thee through it all ! " 
 
 When the little girls lay down again together, all sad- 
 ness and all fear had passed away, even from Lina ; and 
 to the two children alone in the darkness there had come 
 something of the peace of God which passeth all under- 
 standing. Of human sympathy they had very little. 
 Friiulein had never found out what all the disturbance had 
 been about ; and nurse, in her softened feelings towards the 
 children, was anxious to pass it over and forget it as a 
 thing of no consequence ; while even now, in the drawing- 
 room, Mrs. Hope was making her husband laugh with an 
 account of his daughters' troubles. 
 
 But in the better country there was joy that night, be- 
 cause of the goodness of God, which leadeth to repentance. 
 To be sure, those who had sinned and suffered, and been 
 very sorry, were only children ; but then the angels re- 
 member that the Son of the Highest himself hath said that 
 of such is the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 (564) y
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 EVERYTHING COMES RIGHT. 
 
 I'M going to drive to Aberinnan after lunch, to 
 do some shopping," said Mrs. Hope, appearing 
 at the schoolroom door the next forenoon. 
 " Who will come with me 1 " 
 
 " Me ! — me ! " shouted Alice and Lina, regardless of 
 grammar. 
 
 They were both down on the floor on their knees, Alice 
 with the poker in her hand, dealing vigorous blows with 
 the end of it on something rolled up in very thick brown 
 paper, laid on the carpet before her. Mrs. Hope drew 
 near with some curiosity. 
 
 " What mischief are you about now 1 " she asked. 
 
 Alice was far too busy with her smashing operations to 
 attend to anything else, and went on thumping without 
 making any reply ; but Lina jumped up and ran to the 
 cupboard with an air of great mystery. From thence she 
 produced in triumph a huge dish about half-covered with 
 a smooth sheet of glistening toffy. 
 
 "Very beautiful," said Mrs. Hope. "Where did that 
 come from 1 " 
 
 " Nurse ! Wasn't it good of her 1 Jessie brought it 
 in just now ; and we're going to thank her when Alice 
 has broken up some." 
 
 Here Alice laid down the poker, and opening the parcel,
 
 A PRESENT i-'OK NELLY. 1 ] 5 
 
 displayed toffy fragments of various sizes, from the merest 
 crumb to pieces of goodly size, which would take a delight- 
 fully long time to consume. 
 
 " Have some, mamma," said she, popping a bit into her 
 own mouth, and then pushing the paper in her step- 
 mother's direction. " Lina, you can break up some for 
 yourself, — you're going to have none of this, you know." 
 
 " What ! are you going to eat all that up your- 
 self?" 
 
 " No, only one bit ; the rest's for Nelly. Perhaps she 
 never tasted toffy in her life — not such nice stuff as 
 nurse's, anyway. We'll break up some for ourselves after 
 wards. I wouldn't have taken that one piece, if I hadn't 
 had such hard work." 
 
 " Oh ! it was a reward for your trouble. I see. What 
 do you say, Lina ? " 
 
 Lina looked rather wistfully at the contents of the 
 paper, but she said humbly and cheerfully that Lally was 
 quite right ; and, succeeding unexpectedly in breaking off 
 with her fingers a delicious corner from the piece still re- 
 maining on the plate, she was perfectly consoled. 
 
 " Do you think there's enough for Nelly here, mamma?" 
 
 " Quite enough, — a great deal too much, I should say, 
 unless Mrs. Veitch is a very judicious woman. I would 
 advise you only to send about half of what you have there, 
 if you have a true regard for Nelly's welfare." 
 
 " Oh no, no, no ! There's no use giving her any, if we 
 don't give her something worth," said Alice, earnestly. 
 "We must give it all. Don't you know what a horrid 
 thing it is to get a few sweeties — just enough to make you 
 want more? It's a most dreadful feeling that, mamma." 
 Then a sudden thought striking her, she added, " But you 
 may have a piece, if you like. One bit won't matter much,
 
 11G MAMMA'S TROMISE. 
 
 if it isn't very big ; or even although — we could break 
 some more for Nelly." 
 
 " Do take a bit, mamma. We really don't mind ! " 
 chimed in Lina. 
 
 But Mrs. Hope would not accept the refreshment so 
 cordially offered. She averred, and probably with truth, 
 though the children's powers of belief were tried to the 
 utmost by the statement, that she was not fond of toffy — 
 it was far too sweet for her taste ; but she stood and 
 watched while one portion of nurse's peace-offering was 
 again consigned to the top shelf of the press, well out of 
 Toodlekins' way, and the other rolled up carefully in fresh 
 paper, tied, and even addressed. 
 
 " I think nurse must be in a good humour to-day," said 
 Lina at last. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it, as I am going to have a talk with 
 her about the jam." 
 
 The two little girls looked at each other. 
 
 " If it's quite convenient, mamma, as you're going to 
 nurse at any rate," said Lina — " don't you think so, Lally ? — 
 if it's all the same to you, mamma, if you're quite sure you 
 don't mind, would you tell her about Nelly 1 ?" 
 
 Mrs. Hope foresaw that she was destined to hear a good 
 deal about Nelly ; but being very good-natured, she did 
 not say so, and delighted the children by giving a free 
 promise to have the great matter settled at once, and com- 
 municate the mysterious secret in her approaching inter- 
 view with nurse. 
 
 " We are coming immediately !" they called after her as 
 she left the room. 
 
 " And if we see you are forgetting, we'll give you a little 
 poke or a pinch to put you in mind," said Alice. " Isn't 
 everything jolly to-day, Lina?"
 
 DIFFICULTIES AT AN END. 117 
 
 The world was indeed looking rose-colour to Alice and 
 Lina that morning. They had risen hi joyous spirits ; but, 
 thanks to their new resolutions and softened feelings, they 
 had settled down to their lessons with a diligent attention 
 which made them go wonderfully smooth. And when 
 twelve o'clock came, even Alice was obliged to confess that 
 the morning had passed over quickly, and that it was 
 pleasanter to have Friiulein praising than blaming them ; 
 though she could not be brought so far as to agree witli 
 Lina that well-performed lessons were in a way a satisfac- 
 tion to herself. Then the weather had been so very oblig- 
 ing. It had rained just long enough to make it scarcely 
 worth while to go out for their regular forenoon walk ; and 
 then it had cleared up so as to give every hope of a fine 
 afternoon for the much-relished treat of a drive to Aberin- 
 nan with their stepmother. And, to crown all, there was 
 nurse's unexpected present; which had brought in its train 
 the pleasure of making a gift to Nelly. They were quite 
 inclined to think in their gladness that all was to go well 
 in the future : nui-se would never be angry any more — 
 all difficulty would pass away from lessons. Somehow 
 the new interest which Nelly had brought into their Hves 
 was not only to increase their pleasures, but in some 
 mysterious way to remove all trouble from them. Last 
 night they were thinking nothing could ever make them 
 happy again; and already they had forgotten that only the 
 gates of the city of God can shut out sin, and sorrow, and 
 misunderstanding for evermore. 
 
 When Alice and Lina followed their stepmother to 
 nurse's room, they found the table laden with pots and jars 
 of various sizes waiting to be covered and put away ; as 
 well as baskets of plains and damsons, as yet in their natu- 
 ral state, which had made a halt there on their way to the
 
 118 NOT AT ALL AFKAID. 
 
 kitchen. Nurse was, as she herself would have expressed 
 it, in the thick of the jam-making. She was standing 
 watching over the whole with a grim countenance, which 
 expressed entire dissatisfaction with the fact that her new 
 young mistress's likes and dislikes should have power to 
 change the time-honom-ed customs of the household. The 
 same quantity of each kind of preserve which had been 
 made at Hopefield for the last twelve years ought to be 
 made this year also, no matter what any one's tastes were, 
 or how much of the last supply still remained unused. 
 
 " It's what's always been done since I came into the 
 house," said nurse ; " but, as I understand, Mrs. Hope, it's 
 your orders, mem." 
 
 Nurse was always most awful when she became very 
 polite ; and the little girls, entering the room at this mo- 
 ment, felt their spirits suddenly dashed. But Mrs. Hope 
 looked not in the least alarmed by nurse's displeasure : if 
 she was moved at all by it, it almost seemed as if she were 
 moved to laughter. But this last thought was too irreve- 
 rent to be entertained for moi'e than a moment by Alice 
 and Lina. However, they took courage when she smiled 
 to them as they came in ; and were further reassured when 
 they saw her help herself to one of the damsons in the 
 basket under nurse's very eyes. I don't think anything 
 ever impressed the children so much with a sense of their 
 stepmother's power as this daring action ; for it was not 
 only meddling with the fruit reserved for jam — the fruit 
 that was in a special way under nurse's protection — but it 
 was eating that which was in itself unlawful, as not being 
 considered wholesome or palatable while still uncooked. 
 And this was done openly, so that nurse could not possibly 
 avoid seeing it. I doubt whether the children would have 
 been astonished had their stepmother got her ears boxed
 
 in nurse's room. 119 
 
 and been turned out of the room. Certainly, when no evil 
 came to her for the thing that she had done, they could do 
 nothing but stand still and stare at each other in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Well, bairns, say what you've got to say, and go away 
 with ye !" said nurse, interrupting their meditations — not 
 with a reproof to Mrs. Hope, but with a somewhat snappish 
 exhortation to themselves. 
 
 " Thanks very much for the toffy," said Alice. 
 
 Nurse gave a sort of grunt, and retired into one of her 
 presses with some of the jam-pots. Probably, had she and 
 her mistress been entirely of one mind, — or rather, had 
 Mrs. Hope made no suggestions at all about the important 
 matter in hand, — the children's thanks would have been 
 more graciously received ; but at present nurse was in- 
 clined to think her making the toffy at all was a piece of 
 foolish weakness. 
 
 " It was very kind of you ; it's very good," said Lina. 
 
 " You'll be making yourself ill ; that'll be the next thing," 
 said nurse grimly. 
 
 " I think they intend to give too much away for any- 
 thing of that sort to happen," said Mrs. Hope. " I saw a 
 large parcel done up to go to Mrs. Veitch's grandchild." 
 
 " Ay, there's that bairn left to her grandmother to keep ! " 
 said nurse then. " I knew her mother would never do 
 any good ; a silly, dressed-up thing as ever I saw, and with- 
 out wit enough to look after a house of her own." 
 
 Here nurse came out of the press ; and without looking 
 at her mistress or the children, she filled her hands again 
 with another load before she gave voice to this awful sen- 
 tence — " It's an ill thing to be married before a body has 
 sense." 
 
 " Yes, nurse, that's very true," said Mrs. Hope, with a
 
 120 THE GREAT MATTER SETTLED. 
 
 flash of amusement over her face. " I hope little Nelh 
 will turn out better than her mother ; for the girls have 
 taken a great fancy to her, and mean to have her here on 
 Sunday afternoons to teach her." 
 
 The children trembled; and there was an awful pause for 
 a moment, only broken by an inexplicable grunt from the 
 press, to which nurse had again retired. Mrs. Hope, 
 thinking there was to be no answer at all, and considering 
 the matter ended, had her hand already on the door, but 
 the children still hung back ; when nurse said suddenly, — 
 
 " It's well if they take themselves up with some good on 
 the Sabbath-day." Then, in a slightly mollified tone, she 
 added, — " She's a nice-like bairn ; and I'm sure I don't 
 want to say any ill about the mother, poor thing !" 
 
 So simply and easily was the great matter settled at 
 last ; and all Alice and Lina's deep-laid schemes and crafty 
 measures were proved not only to be useless, but actually 
 to have hindered the affair, and very neai'ly brought it to 
 a disastrous end. Want of openness was perhaps foreign 
 to the children's characters ; but even if this was the only 
 time in their lives that they had tried to gain their end by 
 crooked paths, it was nevertheless well that the attempt 
 should be a complete and evident failure. They walked 
 back to the schoolroom in perfect silence — they never ex- 
 pressed their thoughts even to each other ; but I don't 
 think any amount of stories, sermons, or exhortations on 
 the subject of honesty being the best policy, and straight 
 paths always the safest, could have had the same effect as 
 the one careless sentence of approval nurse bestowed upon 
 the plan which they had been labouring for days with so 
 much trouble and sorrow to conceal from her. 
 
 Then they had still to bear the humiliation of observing 
 Fraulein's reception of the piece of news which, faithful to
 
 FRAULEIN WON OVER. 121 
 
 her promise of putting everything right, Mrs. Hope com- 
 municated to her during lunch. Poor Lina, watching her 
 anxiously, coloured deep crimson as she saw the slow, 
 kindly smile come over Fraulein's face while the cause of 
 Sunday's disturbance was explained to her. Perhaps it 
 was the sight of the shamefaced, earnest look with which 
 her favourite pupil met her eyes, that made Praulein see 
 the subject had become a painful one, and had best be 
 passed over as quickly as possible. 
 
 " It will be very pleasant for you to have a little scholar," 
 she said kindly. " But, dear children, why did you not 
 say it to me?" 
 
 " Because we were fools, I suppose," said Alice, very 
 shortly, and looking straight down at her plate. 
 
 Poor child ! her repentance was no more graceful and 
 gushing than anything else about her ; but it was very 
 sincere, nevertheless. 
 
 The drive to Aberinnan was commenced with great 
 gravity, even after Mrs. Hope had arranged that they 
 should go round by the west avenue and deliver the 
 parcel for Nelly. The waggonette stopped at the gate ; 
 and when Mrs. Veitch appeared, her cap looking whiter 
 and her face redder than ever, Alice jumped out with the 
 precious brown paper bundle under her arms. 
 
 " Where's Nelly, Mrs. Veitch V she asked, with a shade 
 of sternness in her voice ; for how was she to know but 
 the little Thing had again been allowed to stray to the 
 river-side 1 
 
 But before the grandmother could answer, some one 
 came running out of the cottage with flying curls, and arms 
 outstretched to Alice. 
 
 "Miss Hope! Miss Hope!" cried Nelly, heeding no 
 one else. She got fast hold of the sailor dress with her
 
 122 AN INVITATION, AND A PROMISE. 
 
 two little brown hands, and lifted an eager face to Alice's. 
 " Miss Hope, I'm comin' to see you and Miss Lina next 
 Sabbass!" 
 
 " Yes, you shall come," said Alice, with a sudden rush 
 of pleasure as she realized she could give her promise with 
 certainty now. 
 
 But her grand-daughter's behaviour shocked and embar- 
 rassed poor Mrs. Yeitch in the extreme. 
 
 " Whisht, Nelly, whisht ; how daur ye speak that way 
 to the young lady? — She's that wild, mem," she added, 
 courtesying in deep apology to Mrs. Hope, who was looking 
 down on the scene amused and observant. 
 
 " I don't think so at all," was the reply. " You will 
 allow her, won't you, to come to my little girls again on 
 Sunday afternoon 1 They are very anxious to have her." 
 
 " Oh yes, mem. Thank ye, mem," said Mrs. Yeitch, 
 again courtesying, and unable to say more; for the new 
 lady of Hopefield was not yet a familiar sight to her 
 retainers, and had a dazzling as well as pleasing effect. 
 
 Lina had by this time got out of the waggonette too, and 
 was kissing Nelly. 
 
 " I'm comin' to see you next Sabbass," said the little 
 Thing again, sturdily. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you'll come. Come earlier and stay longer 
 next time." 
 
 " Grandma said I wasna'," said Nelly, looking defiance 
 at her relative. 
 
 " Did you say she wasn't to come?" asked Alice, facing 
 round upon Mrs. Veitch. But Lina hastened to make 
 peace by adding, " Grandma will let you come now 
 though;" and Mrs. Hope called, — 
 
 " Children, don't you think you'd better give your pre- 
 sent now, and come away 1 ?"
 
 THE DRIVE TO ABERINNAN. 123 
 
 " Here's some toffy for you, Nelly, from Lina and me. 
 And you'll come next Sunday at three. Be sure to bring 
 her, Mrs. Yeitch. Good-bye." 
 
 " Yes, mem ; thank ye. Say 'Thank ye' to the young 
 ladies, Nelly, and ' Good-bye.' " 
 
 Nelly, however, would say neither the one nor the 
 other. She hugged her parcel of sweets, and allowed her- 
 self to be kissed by her teachers in silence. Only, when 
 the carriage was again in motion, she lifted up her voice 
 and shouted after it, " I'm comin' to see you next Sabbass." 
 And Alice and Lina nodded assent until they were out of 
 sight. 
 
 " What a funny little thing it is, with those great dark 
 eyes," said Mrs. Hope. " It is a pleasure to see such eyes. 
 One seldom sees really dark ones here." 
 
 " I think yours is the prettiest colour of all for eyes," 
 said Lina, looking lovingly into her stepmother's face, 
 where the eyes, though shaded by the darkest of lashes, 
 were unmistakably gray. 
 
 The children were able now to enjoy their drive to the 
 full, though tender-hearted Lina had some qualms of con- 
 science because she really could not be sorry that Fraulein 
 did not feel herself safe enough from "tic" to accompany 
 them. They had " mamma " all to themselves. All they 
 said was about Nelly, and Mrs. Hope listened to it all, 
 and talked about Nelly too. I think the young lady was 
 rather amused at herself, and could not help wondering 
 what some of her friends would say, could they hear her 
 discoursing so gravely on the subject of Sunday-school 
 teaching. But the implicit confidence and loyal devotion 
 of her little stepdaughters touched her. In her life there 
 had been given her as yet but little deep love, though 
 plenty of admiration and liking ; perhaps the fault had
 
 124 CONCERNING MRS. HOPE. 
 
 been one of circumstances. She had been left an orphan 
 very young ; and though immensely popular among her 
 numerous school companions and a tribe of near relations, 
 she had never known the strength of home ties. She was 
 perhaps rather too little given to sentiment ; and when her 
 school-days gave place to a life of visiting, far from bewail- 
 ing her lot, she accepted it gleefully, and managed to ex- 
 tract an inexhaustible store of fun from the uncles and 
 aunts who scolded and petted her, and the young cousins 
 who were so Liberal with then admiration and their confi- 
 dences. 
 
 Mrs. Hope accepted her husband's devotion as a matter 
 of course, and I am afraid it would be very untrue to say 
 that she yearned for the affection of his children. Before 
 she came to Hopefield, she had looked upon her stepdaugh- 
 ters as an annoyance which, being inevitable, she would 
 bear, as she did all inevitable things, as lightly as possible. 
 Had Alice and Lina been hostile — a state of things which 
 their stepmother would have considered quite reasonable 
 and natural — she would probably have tried coaxing at 
 first ; but if that had not succeeded speedily, she would 
 have let the children alone, and contrived to see very little 
 of them. But they had given her an ecstatic welcome ; 
 and now Mrs. Hope found herself exalted into an oracle of 
 all wisdom, gifted with absolute power, — the beau ideal to 
 her stepchildren of all that was beautiful, and charming, 
 and witty. Merely to be in her presence, was joy to Alice 
 and Lina ; and it was impossible not to value, as well as 
 wonder at, the love they gave her. 
 
 So Mrs. Hope yielded herself entirely up to the children 
 on this occasion ; that is to say, she did so until they 
 called at the post-office for letters. Then Alice and Lina 
 knew that their time was over. For after the shopping
 
 A LETTER FOR PAPA. 125 
 
 was done, their stepmother's correspondents claimed her for 
 nearly the whole drive home. Nevertheless, the children 
 had enjoyed their talk with her so thoroughly, that they 
 were content then to sit chatting quietly together, making 
 remarks of respectful admiration occasionally on the great 
 length or the black and dashing handwriting of the letters 
 lying in Mrs. Hope's lap. 
 
 " There's papa !" said Lina, just as the last sheet was 
 being folded up, and they were drawing near Hopefield 
 
 again. 
 
 " So it is. Where's his letter gone to 1 " 
 
 It had gone down to the bottom of the waggonette, from 
 whence Alice fished it up, while George stopped the horses 
 to let Mr. Hope come in. 
 
 " Mamma's got five fat ones. She's just finished them 
 now," said Alice, anxious to impress her father with a 
 sense of his wife's importance. 
 
 " Then I meant to read yours," added Mrs. Hope. 
 " Here it is ; this is all." 
 
 "From Torquay. It will be about my sister's boys;" 
 but Mr. Hope seemed in no hurry to open it. He had 
 come out in order to meet a new book he was expecting ; 
 and a good deal of talk was spent in bemoaning its non- 
 nppeai-ance, and discussing the reason thereof. Tin's was 
 rather trying to Alice and Lina, who were not at all inter- 
 ested in their father's books, but had a very decided curios- 
 ity about the two orphan nephews who were his wards. 
 
 " Take care, Edward. That letter will be down again," 
 said Mrs. Hope at last. 
 
 Then he recollected, and opened it. " I suppose Miss 
 Baker encloses her account." But his face changed as be 
 glanced over the lines, and he exclaimed in a tone of 
 unusual irritation, "This is extremely annoying !"
 
 126 mr. hope's annoyance. 
 
 " What scrape have our nephews got into 1 " 
 
 " Miss Baker, it seems, is ill, and I am requested to 
 remove Hugh and Charley immediately. Some cousin of 
 hers writes this, apparently. Read it, Lottie." 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Hope did not think that Miss Baker's 
 proposal was altogether unreasonable in the circumstances. 
 At any rate, she took the letter and read it silently, then 
 looked up at her husband with a curious expression about 
 the corners of her mouth. " Does Miss Baker keep a 
 school ?" 
 
 " No ; the boys go to school every day from her house, 
 or have a tutor in for an hour or two ; I dare say that's the 
 arrangement. She's quite an elderly person, very suitable 
 to have the charge of children. I think she'd once been 
 governess to the Miss Mackenzies ; at any rate, they recom- 
 mended her highly." 
 
 " How old are the boys 1 " 
 
 But this Mr. Hope was quite unable to say, and his 
 daughters had to come to his assistance. 
 
 " Hugh is fourteen," said Alice ; " Charley comes be- 
 tween Lina and me. I remember their coming here once 
 when' Aunt Amy was alive, ever so many years ago. After 
 that she was delicate, and thought she couldn't come to 
 Scotland. So she never did." 
 
 " Poor Hugh had spine disease," said Lina. " He has 
 never been well since he was a baby." 
 
 " He was much better when I saw him last," said Mr. 
 Hope. " The doctor seemed to think then lie might go to 
 school. It has been a great advantage having such a pur- 
 son as Miss Baker to take charge of them since their 
 mother's death." 
 
 " Send them to school now ; Miss Baker seems to have 
 had enough of them. I should think she would want to
 
 A KIND PROPOSAL. 127 
 
 rest from children at her age. Her cousin seems to think 
 she has had a slight shock ; " and again the corners of Mrs. 
 Hope's mouth looked peculiar. 
 
 " Really, Lottie ! " 
 
 " Evidently." 
 
 He held out his hand for the letter again to read more 
 carefully, looking much annoyed and perplexed. " Well, 
 I suppose they will need to be taken from Miss Baker's 
 altogether. I don't at all see what's to be done." 
 
 " Oh, it will be a very easy thing to find a good school ; 
 and, meanwhile, you must have them here." 
 
 " On no account. The noise and the trouble to you — " 
 
 " Nonsense. The house is large enough for plenty of 
 noise to be in it without your hearing it. As for the trouble 
 to me — you know I never take any trouble with any one. 
 If there's any one to be pitied, it is Fraulein. And you 
 really have no choice in the matter." 
 
 " There must be some other plan," said Mr. Hope des- 
 perately. 
 
 " I never thought you could be so hard-hearted and 
 inhospitable, Edward," said Mrs. Hope, laughing openly 
 now. " A country-house like this should be a big hotel 
 for the whole relationship and connection. If you only 
 knew your duty properly, you would have it always full. 
 But, instead of that, you would even keep out these two 
 poor boys, your only sister's children. Amy was your 
 only sister, wasn't she 1 " 
 
 " My only sister," Mr. Hope answered, rather sadly; and 
 glanced at the children, perhaps thinking of himself and 
 Amy long ago — perhaps of the cousin who had been brought 
 up with them almost like a sister, Alice and Lina's mother. 
 He took time to go over the note again before he con- 
 tinued : " But really it is a very serious matter to undertake
 
 128 FOOD FOR SPECULATION. 
 
 the charge of two boys of that age; especially when they've 
 nothing to do." 
 
 " Oh, they'll find enough to do, never fear. This is the 
 very place for thein," said Mrs. Hope, as they drove up in 
 front of the house. " I like boys. I've ever so many 
 among my cousins, and they're all great friends of mine. 
 They mean to come to visit me, every one of them, and so 
 do all the rest of my people, old and young ; for you know 
 they have years of visiting to pay me back. What will 
 you say to that, Edward 1 " 
 
 Her husband was out of the waggonette by this time, 
 giving his hand to help her down. 
 
 " You know you shall always do as you please," he said 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Ah, I'm afraid you don't consider how very much you 
 are promising ! " 
 
 " I do, indeed," he answered. 
 
 They went into the house together. And the children, 
 following, retired to their own apartment with abundant 
 food for speculation 
 
 Alice and Lina were far too much impressed with what 
 they had heard to think of removing their things just 
 immediately, but sat down and stared at each other in 
 amazement. 
 
 "Do you think mamma means it?" said Lina. 
 
 " She generally does mean what she says," said Alice. 
 
 " But will there really be people coming to stay here — 
 ever so many at once — aunts, and cousins, and people 1 " 
 
 " "Well, looks like it, anyway." 
 
 "And do you think Hugh and Charley will come, 
 Tally 1 " 
 
 "I tell you what, Lina: I believe mamma can do any- 
 thing — anything. After her getting the better of nurse,
 
 A NEW LIFE BEGUN. 129 
 
 and putting it all right about Nelly, I shouldn't wonder at 
 anything else she does in the whole world !" 
 
 But, in spite of Alice's protestations, the idea of visitors 
 coming to stay at Hopefield was one very difficult to realize. 
 Except the far-away vision of Aunt Amy once being there 
 with her children, no such thing had ever happened within 
 the recollection of the little girls. In days gone, by their 
 father had lived almost entirely among his books when he 
 was at home. Even his having a friend to dine with him 
 was a very extraordinary thing. And now Mrs. Hope 
 declared the house ought to be like a big hotel — always full; 
 and prophesied that hordes of her own people would pour 
 into it presently. She actually insisted that this new state 
 of things should be begun by the reception of two unknown 
 boys for an indefinite length of time. And after he had 
 been made fully to know and understand all these startling 
 propositions, Mr. Hope had finished the conversation by a 
 smiling assurance to his wife that she should do in every- 
 thing exactly as she liked. Truly, it was not wonderful 
 that Alice and Lina thought a new life had begun. 
 
 When the children saw their stepmother again in the 
 evening, their cousins' affairs seemed all to have been 
 settled long ago. Coming downstairs from a rummage in 
 what used to be their premises in former days, they found 
 Mrs. Hope standing by the schoolroom fire talking French 
 to Fr'aulein. She wore a red rose in her hair and one in 
 her breast, and the graceful folds of her shining silk touched 
 the home-made merino which the governess wore. The 
 little girls were scarcely conscious of the contrast between 
 the two figures ; but they did meditate on the difference 
 there could be between two gray dresses. 
 
 " You will be glad to see your cousins, will you not I " 
 said Frliulein to her pupils when they came in. She waR 
 (664) (J
 
 1 30 CONCERNING BOYS. 
 
 smiling ; and though not at all easy in her mind at the 
 prospect of the riotous time that would doubtless be coming, 
 her heart was tenderly disposed to the boys who were 
 orphaned and homeless, and she was resolved to do her best 
 for them bravely. 
 
 Alice and Lina deposited their load of miscellaneous 
 articles on the table before replying. 
 
 " Suppose it's only fair Hugh and Charley should come 
 here," said Alice. " Boys aren't nice, though." 
 
 " You see we know so little about them," said Lina, 
 ever ready with an attempt to soften down her sister's 
 disagreeable speeches. 
 
 "Well, you can't say there aren't plenty of boys in 
 Saxelford, Lina ; and they are always fighting and tumbling 
 into the water, or tormenting the girls. These are the 
 good ones, too. As for Harry, he cheated and told lies ! " 
 
 " Yes, I dare say," said Lina, giving in reluctantly to the 
 theory of boys' utter depravity. 
 
 " Where's Saxelford ] " asked Mrs. Hope. 
 
 " Here, in the second shelf — that big, fat, red one. I'll 
 get it down for you, mamma," was the eager reply. 
 
 Then Mrs. Hope, who had imagined she was about to 
 hear of some place in the neighbourhood, understood that 
 Saxelford was a children's story-book, and hastened to de- 
 fend herself from being forced to read it. 
 
 " Not to-night, thank you. You're coming to the draw- 
 ing-room with me, you know, and we're going to sing. I'll 
 be sure to ask you for Saxelford when T want it, and then, 
 I dare say, you'il lend it to me." 
 
 " Oh dear, yes ! We've read it all over ever so often. 
 Do you know what we're going to do with these, mamma?" 
 
 Mrs. Hope had come near the table, and was regarding 
 with amusement the store of treasures the children had
 
 PLEASURE IN STORE. 131 
 
 brought. The remains of a book where the alphabet was 
 printed on cloth, and illustrated with pictures suitable for 
 infant minds ; the head and neck of a china doll whose 
 body had gone for ever; some unconnected pieces of a 
 puzzle; a few toy tea-cups and saucers of different sets, 
 and a cart without wheels, — were the most important of the 
 things. 
 
 "I suppose these are for Nelly, are they]" 
 
 " Yes ; wasn't it a good idea to have a hunt in the 
 nursery cupboard 1 See ! we've cleared out this place in the 
 bookcase, and it's always to be called Nelly s Shelf. We've 
 put all her Sunday-school books there; and the toys are 
 going at this end, but only till we get them mended: 
 then Nelly will get them home to play with." 
 
 " Just fancy," chimed in Lina : " Jessie's growing so good- 
 natured, she offered, all of her own self, to make a new 
 body for Augusta; it's to be cloth, stuffed with bran; and 
 we're to make clothes for her. Fraulein says we may do 
 it for schoolroom sewing, and she's going to give us a bit of 
 her dress for a frock — " 
 
 " Only we'd much rather have some of yours," said Alice 
 the terrible. " Do give us some, mamma !" 
 
 " Fraulein spoils you, there's not a doubt of it," said Mrs. 
 Hope, ignoring Alice's last request, — "letting you make 
 doll's clothes in lesson-hours, and giving you pieces of cloth 
 to waste ! Come away now, both of you, and leave her in 
 peace for a little to write her letters. We've been bother- 
 ing her long enough." 
 
 So the three went away together; the green and white 
 dresses and golden hair of the children against the gray 
 silk now. And Fraulein, left alone, did not finish her 
 letters immediately, but sat still for a while, an uninteresting 
 figure in an ugly dress, thinking, and looking into the fire.
 
 CHAPTEEl VI. 
 
 nelly's second lesson. 
 
 |HAT week was a very rainy one ; and the children, 
 confined almost entirely to the house, had plenty 
 of time to put in order the toys for Nelly. Jessie 
 was obliging enough to make a body for " Augusta" the 
 very next day after the head had been found, and Alice 
 and Lina (for the time being) became diligent needle- 
 women, and successfully manufactured a suit of clothes for 
 her. 
 
 It was customary in the Hopefield schoolroom to have 
 sewing and reading aloud every afternoon for an hour before 
 tea : formerly, both Alice and Lina always wished to 
 exchange the needle for the book, and Fraulein seldom got 
 her turn ; but this week all was changed. The little girls 
 stuck fast to their work, and though it was English that 
 was being read, Fraulein had it all to do. She was pleased 
 and proud to read Scott in the original, even if it was 
 only the "Tales of a Grandfather;" but her sense of the 
 importance of her work was not half so great as that which 
 Alice and Lina felt over theirs ; and the dark face, intent 
 on the big book, was far less grave and absorbed than the 
 two flushed, childish ones whose eyes were never lifted 
 from their doll's garments. At first, Fraulein was much 
 elated, thinking she must have improved immensely in 
 English of late, for the children neither corrected her pro-
 
 A PARCEL FOR NELLY. 133 
 
 nunciation nor complained that they did not understand 
 her. But after a little she began to see how it was. For 
 once in their lives her pupils were actually . too much 
 engrossed in their needlework to care for stories, and as 
 they fashioned curiously -shaped under- things, or made 
 laboured though uneven tucks on tiny petticoats, the ex- 
 ploits of the Highland chieftains fell on ears which heeded 
 them not. 
 
 On Friday evening the great work was finished. Augusta 
 was completely dressed in her new outfit, and packed up in 
 soft paper, as carefully as if she had been a delicate waxen 
 doll just out of the shop. 
 
 The efforts made in behalf of the other toys were not so 
 eminently successful. As the fragments of the puzzle would 
 never moi'e make the map of Scotland, they were reluctantly 
 pronounced useless, and consigned to the flames. Alice's 
 project of constructing two new wheels for the cai-t had to 
 be given up, after she had spoilt a breakfast-knife and hurt 
 her own fingers in attempting to cut them out of a piece 
 of firewood. But then a happy idea came to Lina, who 
 suggested that the vehicle should be turned into a sleigh ; 
 which would, after all, be mOre appropriate, as winter was 
 now coming on. And though Alice was not quite satisfied, 
 she agreed it was the best thing that could be done in the 
 circumstances ; so the two remaining wheels were knocked 
 off*, and a piece of scarlet braid being fastened in front, the 
 sleigh was all ready for Nelly to drag over the snow. The 
 fragments of the alphabet picture-book were securely stitched 
 together ; and when the final packing-up came, they were 
 found to fit very nicely into the bottom of the cart. Above 
 lay Augusta, swathed in white paper ; and at her side was 
 placed a small wooden box containing the tea-things. Then 
 Alice and Lina got brown paper and string from nurse, and
 
 134 TWO COUSINS IN PROSPECT. 
 
 fastened up their parcel with much ceremony, time, and 
 trouble. 
 
 They had intended to go and visit Nelly early on Satur- 
 day morning, and bestow their gifts themselves ; but Lina 
 especially began to fear that to do so graciously and accept- 
 ably, not only to the little Thing but her grandmother, 
 would be beyond their powers. Giving presents is cer- 
 tainly a very hard thing to do, and the little girls submitted 
 with a very good grace, when the day turned out so wet 
 that they were not allowed to go to the Lodge. The pack- 
 age was sent to Nelly when the postman carried away the 
 letters, and it was supposed that it would serve as a gentle 
 reminder to the little scholar that her teachers had not 
 forgotten her, and were expecting to see her on the morrow. 
 But, in their hearts, Alice and Lina trusted that no such 
 reminder was necessai-y. 
 
 It was now all arranged that Hugh and Charley Mac- 
 kenzie were to be at Hopefield on Tuesday. An escort had 
 been found for them by Miss Baker's cousin, who seemed 
 to be a person of energy, and had succeeded in hunting up 
 somebody's housekeeper who was going further north than 
 the boys, and would take charge of them almost all the way. 
 Mr. Hope seemed either to have resigned himself to the 
 idea of their coming, or to have forgotten all about it, 
 for he never alluded to the fact ; and Mrs. Hope behaved 
 exactly as if the arrival of a couple of boys was an everyday 
 occurrence. Even Alice and Lina, in present possession of 
 a Sunday scholar, and with the prospect of two cousins in 
 the very near future, took it all with a coolness that amazed 
 themselves sometimes. Three weeks ago, such a state of 
 things would have seemed to them utterly impossible. It 
 was odd that they were able to do anything but exult and 
 wonder all day long, now it had really come to pass.
 
 A RAINY SUNDAY. 135 
 
 Sunday was rainy again ; very rainy and very windy — 
 a regular stormy day. 
 
 " No church for us," said Mrs. Hope, as the family 
 assembled for breakfast ; " and no Nelly, I'm afraid," she 
 felt inclined to add to the children, but stopped herself, 
 thinking the disappointment would come to them quite 
 soon enough. 
 
 " We can walk, mamma — you and I," said Alice eagerly. 
 " It would give Lina as bad a cold as the horses ; but we 
 aren't afraid of rain." 
 
 Lina bitterly resented the ive, feeling that it was too bad 
 that she should be associated with the horses, while Alice 
 coupled herself with her stepmother. She began to protest 
 that she would go too ; but, fond of walking as Mrs. Hope 
 was, she promptly negatived Alice's proposal, as she 
 looked out at the swaying trees and dashing rain. 
 
 " Did you want to go to church so much, Lally ] " asked 
 Lina, when the two were in the schoolroom again. 
 
 " The walk in the rain would have been such fun ; 
 besides, I thought it would be right. The walk was the 
 most reason, though." 
 
 In spite of the candid admission with which Alice bad 
 finished, Lina remained for some time silent, in respectful 
 admiration of her sister's goodness. Then Alice said, — 
 " But I know what we'll do now. We'll go at eleven 
 o'clock and have a prayer-meeting in our room, — a Sabbath- 
 school teachers' prayer-meeting, — and we'll sing, and read 
 the lessons for Nelly out of the Bible, and we'll pray. 
 You know we need so much help, Lina ! It'll never do if 
 the little Thing just throws stools about, and screams, and 
 doesn't learn any lessons. Don't you think it would be a 
 good idea to have a prayer-meeting, Lina ? " 
 
 " Beautiful ! " said the loyal little sister.
 
 136 the children's preparations. 
 
 " We'll do it, then." 
 
 So they arranged it all together, the two alone in' the 
 schoolroom ; even fixing on the chapters to be read and the 
 psalms to be sung, so that all might be done decently and 
 in order. It was all fixed before Fraulein and her Gesang- 
 buch appeared ; and a few minutes before eleven the 
 children slipped away to their bedroom, locked themselves 
 in, and made their preparations. As the clock struck, 
 Alice was seated at a little round table put in the middle 
 of the floor, with a large Bible before her, and Lina estab- 
 lished on a chair at a little distance. 
 
 " Let us sing to the praise of God," said Alice, " in the 
 Twenty-third Psalm. The tune is ' Evan.' " 
 
 Lina began, her voice trembling a good deal, for she 
 could not feel as if this was an ordinary occasion ; but 
 Alice joined in firm and strong, and the words of the 
 grand old psalm sounded clear in nurse's room above, 
 where the old woman laid down her book to listen. It 
 was she who had taught the children "The Lord's my 
 Shepherd," — the first thing they had ever learned. The 
 well-known tune and words, sung by these childish voices, 
 was the sweetest music that could fall on her ears. 
 
 And the third verse came up to her louder and cheerier 
 than ever, because Alice was singing with all her heart, 
 and her courage inspired Lina. 
 
 " Even though I walk in death's dark vale, 
 Yet will 1 fear none ill : 
 For thou art witli me ; and thy rod 
 And staff me comfort still" 
 
 Then nurse put down her head, and her eyes grew dim 
 with tears ; for she had lived to see almost all who were 
 dear to her pass away among the shadows of that valley, 
 and sometimes felt, with the burden of her years, that she
 
 THE CHILDREN'S PREPARATIONS. 137 
 
 herself must be near the entrance now. " God bless the 
 bairns ! they canna know," she said to herself, with a great 
 and tender pity for the ignorance of the children down- 
 stairs. But it was all right. There was no need for them 
 to know how dark and difficult the road through that 
 valley sometimes seems ; it was enough if they trusted the 
 good Lord with his rod and staff to guide them safe to the 
 other side. And before the psalm was over, nurse too was 
 comforted, when she remembered that on the other side 
 God's people find a dwelling-place in his house for ever- 
 more. 
 
 " We'll read in the Word of God," said Alice, " in the 
 Book according to Genesis, — Genesis, first chapter ; then 
 we'll go on to the second. We'll read verse about." 
 
 So they read the story of the Creation, and the Fall of 
 Man, which, with a portion of the Twenty-third Psalm to 
 learn by heart, they had determined should be Nelly's 
 lesson for the day. And when they had gone all through 
 the three chapters, very slowly and very reverently, they 
 knelt down to pray. Alice began, her language a curious 
 mixture of set phrases, and expressions she imagined it 
 proper to use on such an occasion, with the blunt and 
 boyish ways of speech she commonly used. But her 
 earnestness in beseeching help from God in the work she 
 had undertaken ; the contrition with which she confessed 
 that the beginning had been a failure ; above all, her firm 
 confidence that her heavenly Father would certainly hear 
 her, made her prayer solemn in spite of it all. 
 
 " O Lord ! " she said in finishing, " graciously aid us to 
 teach our little Thing. Thou knowest we never had a 
 Sabbath-school class before, and don't know anything about 
 it. Do thou, O Lord ! grant that she mayn't want to 
 play with the cut this afternoon, but make her desire to
 
 138 WAITING FOR NELLY. 
 
 hear about thee ; so that when her body is laid in the grave; 
 at last, her soul may go to the saints in glory. For, 
 Lord ! even if Lina and I got safe ourselves to the New 
 Jerusalem, I can't imagine we could be happy if Nelly 
 wasn't there — " Alice's voice broke off' suddenly here, and 
 Lina sobbed aloud. It was a moment or two before the 
 end came, — " Therefore, Lord God ! for the sake of 
 Jesus Christ, thine only Son, have mercy upon Nelly — 
 and on us. Amen, and amen." 
 
 It was Lina's turn, but she only found courage to repeat 
 the Lord's Prayer; and then, after a long pause, added, in 
 a trembling whisper, " God bless us, and our dear Nelly, for 
 Jesus' sake." 
 
 " There's a verse somewhere says, ' Where two or three 
 are gathered together in my name, I will be in the midst 
 of them,' " said Alice. " But we'll look it up, because 
 when we see it in print we'll be easier in our minds." 
 
 They did not find it till after a long and patient search ; 
 for though nurse had impressed many passages of Scripture 
 on their memories, they were often, like many older 
 people, much at a loss to find the particular chapter or 
 verse they wanted. But having come on their text at 
 last in Matthew xviii. 20, they were much comforted, and 
 went downstairs again with a firm persuasion that all 
 would go right with them and Nelly that afternoon. 
 
 Even their stepmother's announcement at dinner-time 
 that she did not think thei-e was the slightest chance of 
 their little scholar or her grandmother venturing out in 
 such weather, did not disturb Alice and Lina very much. 
 And, indeed, it had not time to do so ; for whenever they 
 left the dining-room to begin their watch at the west 
 window of the schoolroom, their eyes were met by the 
 sight of Mrs. Veitch, struggling hard against the wind,
 
 THE SCHOLAR'S ARRIVAL. 1 39 
 
 which threatened to overturn her every minute, and 
 clutching close in her arms a bundle wrapped up in a big 
 brown shawl. The little girls jumped with joy, and then 
 fell to squeezing each other and rubbing noses, when they 
 beheld this grand spectacle. Nobody went to meet the 
 little Thing this time. It was thought more dignified to 
 let Mrs. Veitch toil slowly round to the back-door with her 
 burden, and doubtless this was also more satisfactory to 
 the old woman herself. Alice and Lina composed them- 
 selves quietly on two chairs, and waited till Jessie came in 
 carrying Nelly, with the shawl still over her head. 
 
 " Her grandmother says she wouldn't stay at home," 
 said Jessie as she set her down ; " and she wouldn't stay 
 in the kitchen long enough to get her shawl off. If you'll 
 send her down when you're ready, Mrs. Veitch '11 wait for 
 her." 
 
 " Oh ! she needn't wait — we'll not be done for an hour ; 
 she'd better go home and come back again," said the 
 children ; but probably Mrs. Veitch was of a different 
 opinion, though Jessie only went away with a smile and 
 said nothing. 
 
 " Was 't you sent me the dolly 1 " said Nelly, as her 
 teachers unwound the brown folds from about her. " Wull 
 ye ask if I take care o't 1 " 
 
 " Not to-day," they told her gravely. But Alice added 
 indignantly in German, " I wish her grandmother wouldn't 
 say such things to her about us." 
 
 According to Mrs. Hope's advice, it had been determined 
 to leave the Shorter Catechism for the present, and only 
 instruct Nelly from the Bible ; so, whenever the little 
 scholar was established, they were proceeding to teach her 
 the Twenty-third Psalm, but were not a little taken aback 
 by finding that she knew it already. It is true she ran
 
 140 TOO YOUNG FOR STORIES. 
 
 the words together, and brought some of them out very 
 queerly; but, once set agoing, she got through it with a 
 glibness which showed that she had repeated it many a 
 time. 
 
 The children said to each other that they were glad the 
 little Thing was not so ignorant after all ; but, in their own 
 hearts, they were decidedly discouraged by this overturning 
 of their plans. However, Alice got the Bible and sat 
 down to read the first chapter aloud, pausing to make 
 comments and explanations of her own at the end of each 
 verse. But, alas ! it would not do. If Nelly was less 
 noisy than she had been the first Sunday, she seemed even 
 more inattentive, and her bright, restless eyes wandered 
 all round the room in search of amusement. In great dis- 
 appointment Alice closed the Bible after a little ; and when 
 Lina tried to read the account in " Line upon Line," as 
 being more suitable to childish comprehension, she was 
 equally unsuccessful in interesting Nelly. 
 
 " I'm afraid she's too young for stories," was the conclu- 
 sion Nelly's teachers came to at last ; for Nelly brought 
 the reading completely to an end by trotting to look 
 out of the window. The waving diodora by the side 
 of the gravel out there was infinitely more interesting to 
 her than all the " herbs yielding seed, and fruit-trees yield- 
 ing fruit," which Alice and Lina had been trying to make 
 her understand about. Her delight and admiration in it 
 was so great, that they had not the heart to be angry with 
 her. They could only sit and watch her sadly, wondering, 
 if she was too young for stories, what she possibly could be 
 old enough for. Must they give up their cherished plan 
 altogether for the present, and put off Nelly's instruction 
 to some indefinite future time 1 Was that to be the end of 
 it all ?
 
 ABOUT A LITTLE BABY. 141 
 
 " If Adam and Eve had ever been little children, we 
 might have told her about them, and perhaps she might 
 have listened," said Lina, under cover of Nelly's exclama- 
 tions at the window. 
 
 " But they never were. We hear nothing of Cain and 
 Abel either, when they were little ; and if we did, it wovddn't 
 do to tell her about a bad boy," said Alice hopelessly. 
 
 All attempts at dignity had been abandoned by Nelly's 
 teachers. Alice was seated on the rug, doubled up together 
 in an attitude of the deepest dejection, and Lina was on the 
 stool, the closed book on her lap; while the little Thing, with 
 her back turned towards them, was rejoicing in the expan- 
 sive view which the big low window afforded her. This 
 state of things had lasted several minutes, when Lina, who 
 had been silently following her own train of thought, 
 looked up and said suddenly, — 
 
 " Nelly, come here ; I want to tell you about a little baby." 
 
 Perhaps Nelly had seen all she wanted to see by this 
 time, — perhaps the proposal struck her as inviting. At any 
 rate, she came ; and Lina put her arm round her and drew 
 her close. 
 
 " The little baby's name was Jesus." 
 
 " Jesus is up there," said Nelly quickly, pointing towards 
 the ceiling. 
 
 " Yes, Jesus lives above the sky ; but once he came 
 down here* and was a little baby. He came at night, and 
 it was cold and dark, but there was no room for him in 
 any house. The other little babies were asleep in their 
 warm beds, but there was no bed for this little baby to lie 
 in. All the house was full, and all the beds were full, and 
 Joseph and Mary and the child Jesus could only get into a 
 stable to sleep." 
 
 "Had he no a cradle I" said Nelly.
 
 142 INTERESTED AT LAST. 
 
 " No cradle ! Other children had cradles and cribs, with 
 plenty of blankets to keep them cosy, but the baby Jesus 
 was laid in a manger." 
 
 The little Thing was interested at last. She never took 
 her eyes off Lina's face, as she made her repeat over and 
 over again the story of the Child that was born at Bethle- 
 hem. And Lina, with the wisdom she was learning through 
 repeated attempts and repeated failures, made her language 
 simpler and simpler as she went on, filling in more details 
 and widening out her narrative each time she went over it. 
 
 And now the Bible pictures came in, brought by Alice, 
 who had lifted her head and taken courage again. So 
 Nelly saw the stable, and the infant Saviour lying in his 
 mother's arms, and was much interested in the asses and 
 tlie oxen, whose heads were seen looking over the stalls. 
 She saw the shepherds, too, kneeling before the baby, and 
 would fain know who they were ; so Alice took her turn, 
 and told her of the fields outside the village, and of the men 
 who watched their flocks all night long, for fear of the wild 
 beasts. In describing bears and lions, Alice was eloquent, 
 and Nelly's eyes became enormous ; but in the picture they 
 found of the shepherds with their sheep, there were no 
 lions and bears to be seen, and Nelly had to be told instead 
 about the beautiful angels who came, all white and shining, 
 to bring the glad tidings of great joy. 
 
 " First one angel came to tell the shepherds the baby 
 Jesus was born ; and then all at once, away up in the sky, 
 they saw a great many other angels, all singing, singing. 
 The shepherds never heard any one singing so beautifully 
 before ; and the reason why the angels were singing was 
 because they were so very, very glad." 
 
 "They were so very, very glad," echoed Nelly, with an 
 unconscious but exact imitation of Alice's way of speaking.
 
 AX OFT-TOLD STORY. 143 
 
 " The angels were singing because they were so very, very 
 glad!" 
 
 But it was no parrot-like repetition this time; she seemed 
 to ponder the words in her mind, while she gazed at the 
 picture very earnestly. 
 
 " They were glad because they knew the baby Jesus 
 was going to be a great king," said Alice, "and fight 
 wicked Satan, and get the victory over him ; yes, and take 
 the chains off the people he had tied up fast." 
 
 " And the angels were glad because they knew that 
 Jesus was going to open the gate of heaven," added Lina, 
 " so that a great many men, and women, and little children 
 could get in. The angels knew how nice it was there, for 
 they had been in heaven all their lives, and they were so 
 kind and good they were very glad." 
 
 How much of this Nelly understood, or whether it was 
 all beyond her comprehension, it was difficult to say. She 
 had raised her eyes when they began to speak, and fixed 
 them first on Alice, then on Lina. Not till after they had 
 finished did she look at the book again, and then she turned 
 over the leaf and went back to the picture of the stable. 
 
 " There was no bed for the baby — there was no cradle 
 for the baby," said Nelly, very solemnly. Then, with a 
 sudden change to her own accent, she turned quickly on 
 her teachers — "You say the words o't again." 
 
 So they did " say the words of it " — oh, how willingly! — 
 again and again, wisely using the same ones as much as 
 possible every time, till Nelly could repeat them almost all 
 herself. And as they went untiringly over the story, some 
 idea, however misty and unformed, came to the little one, 
 that the birth of the baby who lay in the manger at Beth- 
 lehem was something that was very wonderful and very 
 joyful.
 
 144 A SENSE OF SUCCESS. 
 
 They all sat close together on the rug, with the picture- 
 book in their midst; and so Jessie found them when she 
 came, after the hour was more than over. Mrs. Yeitch 
 was getting afraid her grandchild would be troublesome, 
 she said, and tea was ready for Nelly in the kitchen. So 
 Alice and Lina gave their little scholar up ; but even after 
 she was pacified with a promise of coming again next Sun- 
 day, it was very reluctantly that she let herself be taken 
 away. 
 
 Then Alice and Lina, thinking over it all, felt the sense of 
 success come to them with a great rush of gladness, which 
 was too deep for words. But even Alice's eyes were tear- 
 ful and her voice trembled a little when she said, after a 
 while, " Yes, we'll tell Nelly about the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and leave the other things till she's older. You've found 
 the way at last, Lina."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CHARLEY GOES TO SUNDAY SCHOOL. 
 
 JEFOE.E a couple of weeks were over, Alice and 
 Lina had found that there were things hard to 
 bear as well as things which were pleasant, in 
 this matter of the Mackenzies' visit to Hopefield. It was 
 hard for Alice, who had reigned supreme over gentle Lina, 
 and had known no other companions, to be contradicted, 
 and teased, and pulled about, and interfered with, in every 
 possible way and on every possible occasion. It was hard 
 for Lina, who loved quietness sometimes for reading and 
 working, to have a restless boy as fellow-inmate of the 
 schoolroom. It was decidedly hard, too, for children who 
 were very far from studious, that, when they were fastened 
 down to their lessons, they should see Hugh established in 
 the sofa-corner with a story-book, or Charley ride past the 
 window on their pony, in all the freedom of holiday-time. 
 
 But though Alice got angry with Charley occasionally, 
 and Lina sometimes tired of romping, and longed to sit 
 quiet for a little, and though lesson-hours did seem un- 
 usually long in those days — still, in spite of all these things, 
 the good which resulted from the arrival of Hugh and 
 Charley far outweighed the evil, in Alice and Lina's eyes. 
 " I wonder what we did before Charley came ! I wonder 
 how we ever managed without him ! " they used to say to 
 each other often when they were alone, 
 
 (664J 1 1 1
 
 146 THE TWO BROTHERS. 
 
 For Charley was the great favourite, and the little girls 
 only tolerated his brother as a necessary appendage of his. 
 It was not that they disliked Hugh, by any means ; but 
 after his cousins had learned not to be annoyed by the 
 sharp, sarcastic remarks he occasionally made, and had 
 become accustomed to his silent presence in the room, they 
 seemed to make no further progress towards intimacy, 
 And as it was with Alice and Lina, so it was with every 
 one else in the house. Charley was noisy and mischiev- 
 ous, yet he was universally popular ; Hugh was very quiet, 
 and gave no trouble in any way, but no one seemed to 
 like him much. After some ineffectual attempts to draw 
 Hugh out, Mrs. Hope would give the matter up, as not 
 worth the trouble, and turn away to amuse herself with his 
 brother ; while the boy's uncle, though he never ti'ied to 
 make acquaintance with any one, seemed rather to enjoy 
 being talked to by the irrepressible Charley. Nurse ex- 
 pressed her opinion that Hugh was " dour," but that Char- 
 ley was a " fine laddie ; " and this although Hugh had 
 never offended her by word or deed, and Charley had been 
 caught more than once in the very act of plundering her 
 store-room. 
 
 Whether Hugh was conscious of this state of things, or 
 what his opinions were of the Hopefield family, no one had 
 the least idea. Even to his brother he seemed to talk 
 little, though the two boys were remarkably affectionate to 
 each other ; indeed, Charley's consideration for Hugh was 
 one of the best points in his character. Hugh joined in 
 the games with a good deal of interest and cleverness, 
 making coolness and skill do wonderful duty instead of 
 physical strength ; but even at play he was silent, and 
 what he liked best was to be curled up in a corner with 
 a book : and so he would sit for hom-s in such silence
 
 NELLY S PROGRESS. 
 
 14; 
 
 tli at the other inmates of the room often forgot he was 
 there. 
 
 Of course, during these first weeks of their cousins' visit, 
 Alice and Lina were unusually occupied and interested 
 with them ; but still their little scholar was not forgotten. 
 They saw Nelly almost every day ; genei'ally, when the 
 weather was fine, they would find her playing on the door- 
 step of her grandmother's cottage with some of the toys 
 they had given her. The little Thing had quite lost her 
 shyness, and would chatter to them with a frankness which 
 delighted Alice and Lina, and embarrassed Mrs. Veitch 
 not a little sometimes. Always, too, Nelly was anxious to 
 go away with the " Miss Hopes " to the " big hoose ; " but 
 the promise of the Sunday's visit would pacify her. " I'm 
 coming to see '00 next Sabbass," were her invariable part- 
 ing words. 
 
 And so, on the next Sabbath after the Mackenzies came, 
 and again on the one after that, Nelly did come to see 
 them, and all seemed to go well. The child sat on her 
 stool at the feet of the little teachers, for whom she already 
 entertained an odd, wayward affection; and the big dark 
 eyes were fixed on the bright faces above her, while Alice 
 and Lina told of the child Jesus, or taught her the hymn 
 about royal David's city. She learned a couple of texts, 
 too — " God is love," and " Thou God seest me ; " and she 
 seemed to understand when they told her that God in 
 heaven is very kind and good — kinder than any one on 
 earth ; and that his eyes can see always and everywhere, 
 even in the dark night when nobody else can see. Also 
 they set about teaching her to sing the Twenty-third Psalm, 
 the words of which she knew already; and this part of the 
 exercise seemed peculiarly pleasing to Nelly. Of course, it 
 would be too much to say that the little Thing was always
 
 148 A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT. 
 
 quiet and attentive, and gave no more trouble over her 
 Sunday lessons ; but her teachers were learning much by 
 experience of the way to teach her. Fraulein gave them 
 some hints, too, which even Alice was glad to take advan- 
 tage of; and they soon became quite ingenious in giving 
 variety to their instructions. They tried not to prolong 
 their stories, and illustrated them abundantly with pic- 
 tm-es; and they would make breaks for singing when 
 Nelly's memory or attention failed over her repetition les- 
 sons. Lina would even coax her to learn her text or her 
 hymn well by the promise of a rose out of the flower-glass 
 when she could repeat the verse correctly ; and the little 
 Thing, who had a perfect passion for flowers, never failed 
 to yield to the bribe. But of this mode of procedure Alice 
 never thoroughly approved. 
 
 Autumn was turning now into winter, but the days 
 were still bright and clear, and the fallen leaves rustled 
 crisp under the children's feet when they went out to 
 walk. The Sundays happened just then to be peculiarly 
 beautiful days ; and Alice and Lina, with Charley, would 
 set off in the mornings before the carriage, and be picked 
 up somewhere on the road to church. And on one of these 
 bright forenoons, when the three were marching together 
 along the east avenue, Charley struck dismay into his 
 cousins' hearts by announcing, " I'm going to Sunday 
 school this afternoon." 
 
 " What Sunday school 1 " they asked in apprehension. 
 
 " Your Sunday school, of course ; your Nelly's Sunday 
 school. I'm coming to learn with Nelly." 
 
 " No, you're not," said Alice. " You're not, I say, 
 Charley !" 
 
 " Oh, shan't I come ! See if don't, Jemima ! " 
 
 " Oh no, please," pleaded Lina. " You won't come — pro-
 
 lina's stratagem. 1-40 
 
 mise ! You'll sit in the drawing-room and read the second 
 volume of ' Ministering Children,' as you did last time." 
 
 " I've finished it. I've read every Sunday book in the 
 house. There are just enough to fill up two days." 
 
 " That's because you don't know," began Alice warmly ; 
 but at that moment the waggonette overtook the children, 
 and the conversation was broken off. Lina privately mi- 
 vised her sister not to bring the matter up again, in hopes 
 that Charley, left to himself, would forget all about it. So 
 all the way to and from church, and also during dinner, 
 the little girls carefully avoided making any reference 
 whatever to Nelly, or anything connected with her. Nor 
 did Charley himself say anything more on the subject, or 
 show that he had any intentions of executing his threat. 
 
 After dinner, Lina, feeling all the time that she was 
 practising the wisdom of the serpent, instructed her cousin 
 carefully in the method of composing a Scripture enigma, 
 and, with a good deal of trouble to herself, sought out for 
 him pencil, paper, and Biblical dictionary, so that he might 
 set to work immediately. When he received them calmly 
 and carried them off to his own room, her delight was 
 excessive. She followed him upstairs and saw him safely 
 within the door of his chamber, then flew off to tell her 
 sister the joyful news. Alice had gone up to nurse's room, 
 from the window of which she could see far down the west 
 avenue, and get the first glimpse of Nelly sooner than she 
 could downstairs. 
 
 " It's all right, Lally," said Lina, dancing in. " He's 
 not coming!" 
 
 Nurse had gone down to dinner, and only Alice was in 
 the room, on her knees in front of the window. 
 
 " All right," repeated she. " And there comes Nelly. 
 This is the jolliest part of all the week. Linn, how can
 
 150 AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE. 
 
 any one stand idle in the market-place! And how can 
 any one want to go to heaven by themselves, when they 
 might take a little Thing with them!" 
 
 " I suppose they don't know how nice it is," said 
 Lina. 
 
 So the children set off to their work in a very happy 
 and peaceful state of mind, and were totally unprepared 
 for the unpleasant surprise that awaited them in the 
 schoolroom. To be sure, it was not Charley they saw; but 
 there was Hugh on the sofa, the cushions carefully dis- 
 posed behind him to make his seat as comfortable as 
 possible, and a big book on his knee. His purpose of 
 spending the afternoon in the schoolroom seemed plain 
 enough; but the children tried remonstrance, and directed 
 his attention to the books laid ready on the table, and 
 then to the window through which Nelly could now be 
 seen, quite close to the house. 
 
 " We must have the room to ourselves, Hugh. There 
 are our books all out, and there comes our Nelly." 
 
 " You need a great many big books for such a little 
 mite," remarked Hugh, looking from the formidable pile 
 on the table to the tiny figure outside. 
 
 " They are such good books, though. You may sec 
 them afterwards — if you only go just now." 
 
 "I've seen enough of them, thank you; but I mean to 
 stay here." 
 
 The little girls made signs of anger and distress to each 
 other. 
 
 " Why should I go away?" asked Hugh. 
 
 " Because the dining-room sofa's much more comfort- 
 able," said Lina, thinking of the serpent's wisdom again. 
 
 " You're wrong there," Hugh answered coolly. "This 
 is the most comfortable sofa in the house. It's so broad ;'
 
 HUGH'S DETERMINATION. 151 
 
 and he leaned back on his cushions and turned to his book, 
 as if he considered the whole matter settled. 
 
 " Well, but, Hugh — we can't possibly get on if you're 
 there." 
 
 "That's nonsense," he replied, without looking up. 
 " Make as much noise as you like; I won't make any. 
 I'm going to read." 
 
 The children paused and hesitated, not knowing what to 
 do. They were both rather afraid of Hugh: afraid of 
 him because he was older than they, and because he spoke 
 so little; afraid of him, most of all, on account of the sad 
 infirmity which seemed to put a mysterious barrier between 
 him and others. 
 
 " Better let him alone," said Alice at last, " if he pro- 
 mises to be quiet." 
 
 But to Lina, with her shyness and self-consciousness, 
 the idea of her cousin's presence during her attempts at 
 teaching was perfectly intolerable. Hugh might be silent 
 — he might be absolutely inattentive; all that was very 
 likely; still Lina would not be able to forget that he was 
 there, and the afternoon's pleasure would be turned into 
 pain. When Alice went to the door to receive her little 
 scholar, Lina turned suddenly to Hugh and laid her hand 
 on his arm. 
 
 " Hugh, if you were to ask Lally and me a favour, we 
 would do it, even if we didn't want to. At least," added 
 Lina, qualifying her assertion somewhat, " I'm sure we 
 would do such a little thing as going out of a room for 
 you. Hugh, to please us very much, won't you go away 
 till four o'clock?" 
 
 Hugh fidgeted, and looked decidedly uncomfortable. 
 Probably, when he ensconced himself on the schoolroom 
 sofa, he had no idea that his cousins would object to his
 
 152 THE LESSON BEGUN. 
 
 presence there; and now he was not unmoved by Lina's 
 pleading. He had, however, apparently very strong 
 reasons of his own to make him wish to remain. 
 
 " You had much better let me stay, if you only knew," 
 he said. " Why should it make any difference to you 
 either] Haven't I been here often when Fraulein was 
 drumming lessons into you — did I ever make a row then? 
 I'll tell you what; the very fix-st word I say to interrupt 
 you, you order me out, and on my honour I promise you 
 ['11 go." 
 
 Lina was obliged to be satisfied; but she turned away 
 with a sigh, thinking in her heart that the work she loved 
 must be all done by Alice that day. She would scarcely 
 have courage to speak a word to Nelly while Hugh was 
 within hearing. 
 
 The little Thing had come in, meanwhile, with glowing 
 
 cheeks and eyes. Her first question, of course, was, 
 
 Wha's yon]" with a nod towards the figure among the 
 
 sofa-cushions; but Hugh kept his word, and did not even 
 
 look up. 
 
 " A boy," answ&red Alice, thinking it well to make 
 her explanation as brief as possible. Then the lesson 
 began. 
 
 " I can say my verses," said Nelly. " I said them to 
 gra'ma afore I cam' awa." 
 
 " Good Nelly! Say them now, then." 
 
 With great gravity and emphasis she did so, clipping 
 her words very shoi't, and making long pauses between 
 them, in her efforts to speak distinctly. The satisfaction 
 of her teachers was so great that Lina almost forgot her 
 annoyance; while Alice actually began to hope that, now 
 when their pupil was doing them so much credit, Hugh 
 might not be so inattentive as he seemed.
 
 AX INTERRUPTION. 153 
 
 " Good, good Nelly ! Now, we'll go on to the next 
 verse of the hymn. Lina, it's your turn this Sunday." 
 
 " No, you," was the hasty reply, as Lina's eyes turned 
 again to the sofa. " You do it yourself, please, Lally." 
 
 Alice was nothing loath, and began to say the hymn over, 
 line by line, Nelly repeating the words after her. The 
 two were so busy and eager over it, that they took no 
 notice at all when the press door gave a loud and ominous 
 creak, as it had done once before on a similar occasion. 
 Nelly was now sufficiently familiar with Toodlekins to allow 
 her to get in or out of her favourite sti-ongkold without 
 being much interested. But Lina, who observed that the 
 spoilt pet, rolled into a soft ball, lay sleeping within the 
 shelter of Hugh's ai-m, wondered much what the sound 
 could mean. And as she sat watching and listening 
 silently, feeling unwilling to interrupt the lesson for any- 
 thing less terrible than a mouse, Hugh looked up and 
 caught her eyes. When he did so, he began to wriggle 
 about uneasily on his seat. 
 
 Again the press door creaked, more loudly still this 
 time; and Nelly's attention was attracted. 
 
 "Shut that stupid place, and lock it, Lina; whether 
 Toodles is in or out," said Alice impatiently. 
 
 Then the door was flung open from within, and some- 
 thing came tumbling out with noisy haste. When it 
 reached the floor it seemed to take form and shape; and 
 revealed itself at last in the figure of Charley, who sprang 
 forward with a great shout of laughter, which was echoed, 
 though rather faintly, by his brother. The little girls, all 
 three, stood up and stared at him; Lina too confounded, 
 Alice too angry, to do anything else at first. 
 
 " Please, teacher," said Charley, composing himself into 
 an air of meekness, " I'm a good hoy come to Sunday
 
 154 INSULTED AND DISGRACED. 
 
 school. Please, teacher, I'm very sorry I'm late; but I'm 
 ready to say my lessons now." And placing himself be- 
 side Nelly on the hearth-rug, he turned upside down, stood 
 on his hands, and sent a pair of knickerbockered legs 
 sprawling up into the air in front of his cousin Alice. 
 
 " Get out, Charley," said she, then. 
 
 Quick as though the was on his feet again and oft", but 
 not out of the room. Giggling, grimacing, putting his 
 fingers to his nose, Charley danced round the table ; 
 Alice after him, in her rage scarcely knowing what she 
 did. Round and round they went; he skipping and 
 dodging about, she rushing blindly on. Poor Lina, 
 wringing her hands and crying piteously; " O Alice ! 
 Lally, Lally!" was utterly powerless to put an end to the 
 disgraceful scene. At last Hugh stretched out a hand to 
 his brother's jacket as he passed, "Come, Charley; have 
 done now ! — He'll go, if you'll be quiet, Alice." 
 
 Obedient to his brother's touch and words, Charley 
 stood still at once ; but not so Alice. It is doubtful if she 
 even heard Hugh's soothing words ; she was only conscious 
 of one thing, — her cousin had insulted and disgraced her 
 in the work which was to her the most important thing in 
 all the world. 
 
 She was as tall as he was, and anger made her strong. 
 She was on him in a moment, and, laughing too much to 
 resist, down went Charley before her. All Alice's weight 
 was upon him, and, as the back of his head struck the 
 floor with considerable violence, she pinned him down with 
 both her hands on his shoulders. Then the little Thing, 
 seeing that her mistress had triumphed, clapped her hands 
 in perfect ecstasy, and went off into one of her queer, elfish 
 bursts of laughter. At this unexpected sound from the 
 rug, Alice started and loosened her hold on Charley, who
 
 THE EVIL DONE. 155 
 
 began to struggle for liberty, the bump on his head having 
 considerably sobered him. 
 
 " Come, some one, and pull this wild tiger off me," 
 cried Charley, still laughing, though more than half 
 angry. " O Jemima ! you are a nice Sunday-school 
 teacher, you are!" 
 
 Then she let him go. She let him go, and rising, 
 looked round the disordered room, where the chairs had 
 been pushed about in all directions, and the books thrown 
 on the floor, during her wild race. She saw Lina, white 
 and distressed; Nelly, excited and overjoyed; Hugh, sur- 
 prised and contemptuous. And, with grief as strong as 
 her anger had been, she realized the evil she had done. 
 
 It was she, not Charley, who had brought disgrace on 
 the work she loved, and profaned the name of the Master 
 for whom she professed to be doing it. In the midst of 
 telling her little scholar about the gentle Jesus, " our 
 childhood's pattern," she had sprung up to fly at her 
 cousin like the wild beast he called her. Had she not, 
 in that one fit of passion, done Nelly such harm by her 
 example as no amount of patient precept could ever 
 undo 1 
 
 And as these thoughts came over her, Alice, whose 
 proudest boast it was that she never cried, gave way 
 altogether. She sat down on the floor and sobbed aloud. 
 
 "Hallo!" said Charley, who had got up, and was 
 shaking himself. He was considerably astonished at the 
 turn affairs had taken, and was, perhaps, in his heart of 
 hearts rather ashamed of his own share therein. And 
 now, when Alice sat crying, wringing her hands, and rock- 
 ing herself backwards and forwards, it occurred to him 
 forcibly that his attempt to be funny had been very un- 
 successful. There was nothing left for him now to do
 
 15G ALICE AND HER GRIEF. 
 
 but take himself off; which he accordingly did, trying to 
 look as unconcerned as possible. 
 
 Then Lina, herself almost crying, tried to find .something 
 to comfort her sister; and the little Thing crawled over the 
 carpet and pulled at Alice's dress — "Miss Hope! Miss 
 Hope!" 
 
 "Get away!" said Alice suddenly, shaking herself free 
 from the clinging brown hands. " Get away !" 
 
 " Lally, don't cry any more. Charley won't come back, 
 and time's getting on ; so, if you don't get on, Nelly will 
 have no lesson." 
 
 " You give it her," Alice cried then, with a fresh burst 
 of weeping at Lina's well-meant endeavours to distract her 
 attention from her grief. " You do it all. It's time I was 
 done, and away out of her sight." 
 
 And with her apron flung over her head, she groped her 
 way slowly out of the room, sobbing violently. 
 
 Lina's first impulse was to follow her sister. If she 
 could not comfort Lally, at least she could weep with her ; 
 and, to tell the truth, that was what she felt most inclined 
 to do. A pull at the bell would bring Jessie to carry 
 Nelly away. It seemed that Hugh had made it impossible 
 for Lina, as Charley had made it impossible for Alice, to 
 finish the lesson that day. Let the afternoon the Mac- 
 kenzies had spoiled slip away unused, then ; better that 
 than go on with precious work at a time when it was no 
 longer sweet, but disheartening and weary. 
 
 That was one side of it; but there was another. A 
 voice within asked little Lina if it would be right to leave 
 the vineyard only because the labour was hard in the 
 noontide heat and dust. Her sister had gone away in sore 
 distress, and left her work for Lina to finish : would she 
 1)0 faithful to the Lord or to Alice if she left it undone?
 
 THE LESSON ENDED. 157 
 
 Screwing up her courage to a point that was really 
 heroic, Lina picked up the hymn-book her sister had 
 dropped, called Nelly to her, and began the lesson where 
 Alice had stopped. Faithfully and carefully she tried to 
 go through it, and Nelly was very attentive ; but the littk 
 teacher was never happy enough to forget herself in her 
 work. The verses were learned, the Bible-story was told 
 and retold, the appropriate pictures exhibited and ex- 
 plained ; and all the time Lina's voice and hands were 
 trembling, and though she kept her back turned to Hugh, 
 her ears were strained to catch the slightest sound from 
 him. He kept his promise of not interrupting her by a 
 word ; but it was with real terror the shy child felt and 
 heard that, all the time she was teaching Nelly, he only 
 turned over a single leaf of the book that was lying on his 
 knee. Did Hugh know the martyrdom he was causing 
 his poor little cousin to endure 1 Surely not, or he would 
 have been magnanimous enough to take his departure. 
 But even when the message came that Mrs. Veitch was 
 awaiting Nelly, he still sat silently on. 
 
 " Good-bye, dear. You've been very good," said Lina, 
 who could not have believed, until then, that she could 
 ever be glad to get rid of her little scholar. " I'll bid you 
 good-bye for Miss Hope too," and she kissed her on both 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Wull I bid good-bye to — the boy?" asked Nelly, with 
 a sidelong glance at Hugh. 
 
 Lina ventured to look round now ; but her cousin 
 appeared perfectly unconscious, and had his eyes fixed on 
 his book. " No, no ; never mind, Nelly. Come away." 
 
 Then Hugh had the schoolroom to himself; for as Nelly 
 retired to the kitchen regions, Lina turned her stops up- 
 stairs, and doubtless sought for Alice. "Whenever the
 
 158 AT THE TEA-TABLE. 
 
 door was closed on the little girls, Hugh rose, anil set 
 about examining the books on the table. Carefully he 
 went over them all, smiling a little at the picture-book 
 Nelly loved, reading the hymn where Lina's mark was 
 with a curious critical face. What he thought of the 
 afternoon's work, it would have been difficult to find out. 
 The only remark he made on the subject seemed unfeeling 
 enough. 
 
 Poor Alice came down to the Sunday tea in the dining- 
 room with a red, swollen, miserable face. Her step- 
 mother's eyebrows went up immediately in surprise and 
 inquiry; and Mr. Hope looked at her furtively during 
 the meal, as if her distress vexed him, and he would have 
 liked to have comforted her if he had only known how. 
 Neither of them asked any questions, however. And 
 though Lina, as well as Alice, was very silent, the conver- 
 sation did not flag, for Charley chattered to his aunt as 
 fast as usual. 
 
 Only when tea was over did Hugh look across the table 
 to his cousins. The others were rising, but the little girls 
 still sat together — Alice cutting the bread she had not been 
 able to eat into little squares on her plate, her breathing 
 still heavy with sobs, the traces of sorrow upon her face 
 cei'tainly anything but lovely. 
 
 "Alice!" said the boy pointedly, "it's a pretty hard 
 pull up the hill this afternoon, isn't it?" 
 
 It was Lina who flung across to him a look of anger, 
 and whose face flushed hot with shame. Alice never 
 looked up. Her sister began to doubt whether she had 
 even heard the question ; but in a little her lips trembled 
 suddenly, and the knife fell out of her fingers with a 
 clatter on the plate. 
 
 "A pretty hard pull up the hill, isn't it, Alice?"
 
 FRAULEIN's SUNDAY EVENINGS. 159 
 
 " Most awfully" said the poor child with a great and 
 mighty sigh. 
 
 Nobody saw how Hugh looked as he turned away and 
 followed Mrs. Hope to the drawing-room. Was he hard- 
 hearted enough to laugh 1 Lina wondered. 
 
 The children did not frequent the schoolroom much on 
 Sunday evening, or indeed on any evening when Mrs. 
 Hope was at home. And Fraulein used to go downstairs 
 and sit by herself, with the curtains drawn and no light 
 but the fire, playing German hymns. She had not much 
 of a voice, but she liked to cx-oon over the words to herself, 
 though the thin tones of her own voice only reminded her 
 of the full, sweet chorus that used to chime in with the 
 old home piano long ago. These Sunday evenings were 
 Friiulein's best times. She seemed to get faith and 
 patience then for the week that was coming, as her prayers, 
 and praise, and penitence went up to God in the woi'ds of 
 the dear well-known songs. She used to feel then as if 
 she were content — nay, glad — to leave the keys of life's 
 darkest mysteries in the hands of the risen Christ : she 
 could thank him for those he had taken into the heavenly 
 rest ; she could trust him with the others still tossing on 
 the waves of life's weary sea. To the German lady — 
 feeling for the keys in the dim light, striking them softly, 
 holding them firmly, till it seemed the piano itself was 
 saying the blessed words to her — God and heaven seemed 
 to come very near on the Sabbath night. But when the 
 sound of the piano reached the ears of nui'se, she would 
 groan aloud with the thought that the Lord's day was pro- 
 faned in her mistress's house. Sometimes she would walk 
 with heavy, angry steps past the schoolroom door, and talk 
 very loud about the Fourth Commandment. The little 
 girls used to wonder why she never went into the room to
 
 1G0 nurse's indignation. 
 
 remonstrate with their governess ; and probably it was 
 only the difficulty of making herself understood that pre- 
 vented her doing so. Much as she disliked Mrs. Hope, 
 much as she disapproved of mirth on the Sunday, she was 
 better content that the children should spend the even- 
 ing in the drawing-room, where their stepmother and plenty 
 of talking and laughing were, than in the schoolroom with 
 Friiulein and her hymns. 
 
 " Don't ye be breaking the Sabbath day, my dear, play- 
 ing and singing," said nurse, meeting Alice on the stair 
 that evening of her trouble. 
 
 " Friiulein is singing hymns," said Alice, rather de- 
 fiantly. 
 
 " Christian folk should keep to the Psalms of David," 
 said nurse, who was carrying her own shiny black psalm- 
 book and her spectacles in her hand. And in high dis- 
 approval of Fr'aulein's spiritual condition, and full content- 
 ment with her own superior Christianity, nurse went up to 
 her room to meditate a little, and sleep a good deal, over the 
 sacred songs which were dear to her and her nation. Ah, 
 well ! she was a good woman too, as the children found 
 out in after-years, when they came to know her better. 
 But I am afraid Friiulein and she could never understand 
 each other till they met in the broad light and the free air 
 of heaven. 
 
 The children were not fond of going to the schoolroom 
 on Sunday nights, as I said before ; but, as often happens 
 on similar occasions, nurse's warnings had exactly the 
 opposite effect from what they were intended to have. 
 Now that her attention was drawn to the music, the sound 
 struck Alice as being very peaceful; and she felt far enough 
 from being at peace, poor child ! She opened the school- 
 room door very softly for her, and went and sat down on
 
 TELLING HER TROUBLES. 161 
 
 the rug where Toodlekins was purring sleepily. And she 
 sat so quietly for a while, that Fraulein, who had been a 
 little annoyed at first by her entrance, completely forgot 
 she was there, until the sound of a sob interrupted her. 
 Then the governess left her dreams of the happy past, and 
 of little Hilda, sleeping now so quietly under a fantastic 
 cross in the far-away German cemetery, and came back to 
 the child whose path in life was just beginning. She 
 used not to have much sympathy with Alice ; but of late 
 it had seemed to her that the child was setting her face 
 heavenwards, and Fraulein feared that her strong passions 
 and ungoverned will would make the narrow way one long 
 battle-ground. 
 
 " Come here, Alice," said Fraulein, turning round from 
 the piano. " Come here, and tell me what it is." 
 
 And the poor tired child, forgetting all her dislike of 
 petting and of pity, came forward to the arms held out to 
 her, and, kneeling at her governess's feet, laid her head on 
 the gray woollen dress. 
 
 " Dear child, what is it ? " asked Fraulein. Then, recol- 
 lecting the words she had heard from Hugh at the tea- 
 table, she continued tenderly, " Hast thou come to a great 
 Hill Difficulty that thou canst not overpass ] Tell me what 
 the mountain is, and perhaps we shall find a way across it 
 together." 
 
 " No, it's not that," said Alice ; " we weren't thinking 
 of the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' Una and I — we were thinking 
 of the high bank up from the river, where we helped Nelly 
 that first clay, — the day we found hei*. If we had slipped, 
 Nelly would have gone down as well — we had to take 
 such care of ourselves — for Nelly's sake. And I thought 
 we would help her to heaven the very same way, — Lina 
 and I pulling her up. And so, when I found myself get- 
 
 11
 
 162 COMFORT AND COUNSEL. 
 
 ting angry with nurse, I thought of Nelly, and shut my 
 mouth tight, and turned away my head." 
 
 "Good child," said Fraulein, as Alice's broken story 
 made a pause for a moment, " that was brave ! " — and her 
 tone of approbation was very cordial, as if she too knew 
 the temptation to be angry with nurse. 
 
 " But, stop," said Alice, passionately, " that was long 
 ago ! That was weeks ago ! You've got to hear about 
 now ! Charley hid in the press this afternoon — and jumped 
 out, in the middle of our lessons, to make us laugh. I 
 hated him; and I flew at him, and knocked him down, and 
 hit him; and Nelly saw, and screamed out laughing, and 
 clapped her hands. Oh — and I've gone down the hill with 
 a great tumble, and I've pulled her too ! She couldn't help 
 it, Fraulein— she couldn't help it, for I was holding her 
 hand!" 
 
 As Alice told the parable she and Lina had made about 
 themselves and Nelly, Fraulein began for the first time to 
 understand how deep and tender was the children's interest 
 in the work they had undertaken. She was silent alto- 
 gether for a little, while she prayed that the Holy Spirit 
 himself would give her words to say to the child whom he 
 had sent to her for comfort and for counsel. 
 
 " Fuse up, and go on, Alice," said Fraulein. " Bise up, 
 and go on — thou and Lina — and take the little one with 
 you. The hill is worth the climbing, Alice ; the summit 
 is worth the gaining ! On the way one may get weary, 
 but there is sweet, long rest in the high heaven." 
 
 "But, Fraulein, it is frightfully hard for Lina and Nelly 
 and me to get up." 
 
 " The Lord Christ stands above you, ready to help," said 
 Fraulein, her voice growing eager, as if through the dark- 
 ness she caught a glimpse of an outstretched loving hand.
 
 THE EVERLASTING ARMS. 1 63 
 
 " You can take Nelly there no more than you can take 
 yourselves. No one ever got up alone. One hand to 
 Nelly, if thou wilt, Alice ; hold her fast, this little one 
 that God has given to you — one hand for Nelly ; but the 
 right hand — stretch that out for Christ's ! " 
 
 " Then shall I never tumble down any more 1 " 
 
 " Only when you try to walk alone. If the Lord holds 
 thee up, my child, thou shalt be safe." 
 
 It was a while after that before Alice spoke, — not till she 
 rose and turned back to the fireside. Then she only said, 
 " Go on playing. Don't mind me any more." And when 
 Lina came seeking her sister, she went willingly away with 
 her. 
 
 But before she went to bed, Alice came back to her 
 governess, and put both her arms round her neck, whisper- 
 ing eagerly,— 
 
 " Fraulein, I'm up again — and I'm going on. Pray the 
 good Lord to hold me fast ! It'll need a very hard pull to 
 get me to the top ! "
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NEWS OF NELLY'S MOTHER. 
 
 F course, Alice had told Lina the comfort her 
 governess had given her, and the loving little 
 sister rejoiced in her joy. But when Alice, 
 having prayed that God would help her up the hill she had 
 set herself to climb, lay down to sleep in full confidence 
 that he would do it, Lina lay awake and thought. 
 
 Worse dreaded than ghosts or goblins were the thoughts 
 which came to Lina in the night sometimes ; her "religious 
 difficulties," as she called them. The nervous child re- 
 garded them as the attacks of a terrible disease which she 
 was powerless to resist. Sometimes her lonely sufferings 
 became so intolerable that she would rouse Alice ; and in 
 the middle of the night, while the rest of the household 
 slept, the one little girl would propound deep theological 
 questions to the other. And Alice seldom failed to set 
 Lina's mind at rest in a very summary way. Alice had 
 no doubts and no difficulties about her creed ; her troubles 
 in the way of religion were all practical, not theoretical. 
 
 Of course, the two children had been brought up on the 
 same theological food; but the doctrines of Bunyan and 
 the Westminster divines, as administered by nurse, had 
 agreed better with the elder than the younger sister. 
 \Vlicn Alice was wakened up by the touch of a trembling 
 hand to hear an appealing voice at her side asking her help
 
 lina's religious troubles. 165 
 
 to solve some mystery of religion, she was not long in find- 
 ing an answer. If it was some such terrible puzzle as — 
 " Do you think it might be, that some heathen who never 
 heard of Christ, and yet tried to be good, might still get to 
 heaven 1 " or, " I can't possibly understand, I can't see why 
 God lets the devil live ! " Alice would say, — 
 
 " You don't know as well as a grown-up human person, 
 and you're talking as if you ought to know as well as God ! 
 Go to sleep; don't you think God can look after things 
 better than you 1 " 
 
 And when, oftener still, it was some personal question 
 which troubled Lina, and she would cling to her sister in 
 an agony, asking, " Lally, dear Lally, dear Lally ! do you 
 think our names are written in the Lamb's book of life 1 " 
 — even then Alice would deal with her somewhat roughly, 
 which was perhaps both the kindest and the wisest way. 
 
 One night, a week or two before, Lina had fallen into a 
 terrible state of shivering and sobbing, thinking that the 
 Day of Judgment might be coming on the morrow. 
 
 " And I'm afraid I haven't faith — I haven't believed, and 
 I can't believe. Ob, I don't know what it means to believe/" 
 wailed Lina. " And I can't be prepared for the Judgment 
 Day unless I've believed." 
 
 " Look here, Lina," said Alice authoritatively, " if Jesus 
 washes away your sins, you'll be ready for the Judgment 
 Day, won't you 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And if God gives you the Holy Spirit, you'll be ready, 
 won't you 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then God's promised to do both these things for you, 
 if you ask him. Get up and ask him, then, instead of lying 
 there crying."
 
 166 FINDING PEACE. 
 
 Lina rose, did as she was told, and returned to bed com- 
 forted. 
 
 " God will do what he's promised, I know," said Alice, 
 as Lina put her arms round her and settled down for sleep. 
 " I don't know what believing is, and I don't know what 
 faith is, but I know that." 
 
 So, in turning from theological terms to a living Person, 
 from herself to her heavenly Father, Lina's mind was set 
 at rest. But she and Alice were both perfectly unconscious 
 that the childlike trust they placed in God and his promises 
 was that strange thing " believing," — that incomprehensible 
 " faith " which seemed so far beyond their reach. 
 
 From that time Lina was more than ever persuaded of 
 Alice's wisdom ; and yet, strange to say, her trouble this 
 Sunday night was a fear lest her sister had made a mistake. 
 She longed to awake Alice that she might be reassured, 
 but she remembered that Lally had had a weary evening, 
 and it seemed unkind to arouse her, only to express doubts 
 about the truth of the comfort which had come to her at 
 last. If Alice were wrong in her opinions, at least let the 
 morning come before she knew it. But Lina, bearing her 
 burden alone, found it very heavy, till she remembered 
 that the Lord never needs to slumber, though Alice did. 
 So she told him how she feared her sister was mistaken, 
 but it was better she should not tell her so until morning ; 
 only meanwhile she could not go to sleep herself for wonder- 
 ing if Alice were right or wrong. After that, Lina found a 
 cool place on the pillow ; and laying her hot cheek there, 
 she tossed about no more, but lay still, with her face to 
 the front of the bed. And somehow, instead of the goblin 
 figures she used to fear kept watch over her in the dark, 
 Lina's fancies were of bright-winged angels with kind, lov- 
 ing faces flitting about the room. So she fell into a peace- 

 
 Alice's prayer. 167 
 
 ful sleep, which remained unbroken till the daylight was 
 bright around her. 
 
 But Lina's difficulty was not done with, though she had 
 been able to lay it aside for a while. When she and Alice 
 were dressed, and Jessie gone, she felt that the time had 
 come to place it before her sister. 
 
 " Lally," she began then, " if you've done learning your 
 verse, I want to say something to you." 
 
 " All right ; I'm done," said Alice, who had been sitting 
 on the top of her bed vigorously learning her morning text. 
 
 " It's about the end Fraulein made to that allegory of 
 ours." 
 
 " What allegory 1 " 
 
 " About climbing up the hill with Nelly. It is an alle- 
 gory, you know; and, Lally, Fraulein's ending was very 
 pretty — but are you sure it's right ? " 
 
 " Don't you think it right 1 " 
 
 " It's very nice ; but I only wish Mr. Hill had said it." 
 
 " Fraulein's much nicer than Mr. Hill," said Alice. 
 
 "Oh yes, Lally, ever so much nicer: but do you think 
 she's sound ? " 
 
 " Sound 1 " 
 
 "Yes; sound in her religious views," said Lina, anxi- 
 ously. " I mean, are you sure she's orthodox, Lally 1 You 
 know she's a German, and Germans are unsound often ; 
 and I know nurse thinks she does us harm." 
 
 " I tell you what it is, Lina," said Alice, " I wish we were 
 only as good as Fraulein — or half as good — or a quarter 
 as good, for the matter of that. And Fraulein helped me 
 last night after I had tumbled, and I'd nearly made up my 
 mind to roll down to the bottom of the hill on purpose. 
 Lina, I prayed this morning, 'Lord, hold thou me up;' and 
 1 prayed it last night, and I'll pray it every night and e\ ei y
 
 168 A PERPLEXED LITTLE GIRL. 
 
 morning, unless I forget ; and if I do forget, it'll be a bad 
 case for me. If the Lord holds me up I'll be safe, was 
 what Fraulein told me ; and she told me true, for that's 
 what the Bible says ! You may go and look for the text, 
 and you'll find it in the Psalms of David — in nurse's own 
 black, big-printed Psalm-book; and if that isn't sound, I 
 don't know what is ! " 
 
 Alice was very vehement, and Lina was quite convinced, 
 and sincerely delighted to be so. For the poor child was 
 no precocious little Pharisee, anxious to judge her elders, 
 but merely a perplexed little soul who had been made 
 familiar too early with theological phrases. Now, she was 
 filled with thankfulness that she possessed such a wonder- 
 ful sister, who could make doubtful things so plain to her. 
 Moreover, she was comforted to think she might safely 
 accept that idea about another hand, strong and tender, 
 closing about her own trembling little fingers, and leading 
 her safe over all rough and steep places till her life's journey 
 was done. 
 
 It seemed indeed to Lina that it needed something more 
 than human strength to hold Alice up in the good way, 
 through the encounter with Charley which came just after 
 this conversation. And doubtless Lina was right ; though 
 older people, measuring the children's trials differently 
 from what they did, might think the affair trifling enough. 
 
 There came a sound of prancing in the lobby outside, and 
 then there was a drumming on the chamber door, and 
 finally Charley's voice was heard through the key-hole. 
 Lina was inclined to be indignant at his effrontery, for 
 surely he ought to beg pardon before he said anything else 
 to Alice. But making apologies was not much in Charley's 
 line, though there was something both of uncertainty and 
 coaxing in his tons this time.
 
 COMPLETE RECONCILIATION. 169 
 
 " Good morning, Jemima ! " 
 
 And Alice, without a moment's hesitation, answered 
 from within, " Good morning, old boy ! " 
 
 Not a word more was said, but both felt that complete 
 reconciliation had been proposed and accepted. And from 
 that time the matter was over and done with, and the scene 
 of the preceding evening never alluded to again. Probably 
 Charley was not without his share of repentance for his 
 conduct, for it was unlike him not to boast of the success 
 of his practical joke. Certain it was that he never attempted 
 it again ; but as long as he was at Hopefield the little girls 
 never began their Sunday work without first examining, 
 then locking, the schoolroom press. It was long before Lina 
 could trust him entirely. The very silence he kept about 
 Nelly in the after-time seemed to her suspicious. But the 
 little scholar came and went, and received her lessons in 
 peace, as far as Charley was concerned ; and her teachers' 
 feai-s of some new trick wore off after a while. 
 
 It was not till years had passed that Alice and Lina 
 heard how Hugh had taken his brother seriously to task 
 ^hat night, and how his remonstrances had an effect which 
 onry Hugh's remonstrances ever had on Charley. Certainly, 
 nothing in the elder boy's manner would have led them to 
 imagine such a thing. For several days after, Hugh's ways 
 were more unsociable than ever; while Charley seemed trying 
 to make himself unusually agreeable to his cousins. Some- 
 how poor Hugh's good actions seemed to keep always in 
 the background, and his disagreeable ones to come forward 
 ostentatiously. Alice and Lina had to wait till the time 
 when they could all look back to their childish games and 
 quarrels with a sort of kindly contempt, before they heard 
 from Charlie what his brother had done for them. 
 
 For the present Hugh remained rather in ill-favour with
 
 170 A THORN IN THE FLESH. 
 
 liis cousins ; for though Charley came no more to disturb 
 the Sunday afternoons in the schoolroom, Hugh was always 
 to be found there on the sofa, and declined to move. Lina 
 made it a matter of special prayer that he might give up 
 coming ; but after going on perseveringly with her petition 
 for several weeks, she reluctantly came to the conclusion 
 that it was not God's will to grant it. She made up her 
 mind then that Hugh was to remain as a sort of thorn in 
 the flesh to her and Alice, lest they should become too 
 much uplifted by the success of their work. Accordingly, 
 she ceased attempting to get him away, either by prayers 
 or remonstrances. 
 
 Except by his silent presence in the schoolroom, the boy 
 gave them no annoyance whatever. He never laughed at 
 the children's work ; it was not till weeks had passed that 
 he alluded to it at all, or gave the least sign that he heard 
 anything that was said to Nelly. Very soon Alice and her 
 pupil got accustomed to his presence, and were quite indif- 
 ferent to it ; and as for Lina, though she felt it a cross, she 
 tried to bear it patiently. 
 
 The Mackenzies were not allowed to run wild all the 
 time they were at Hopefield. Thanks to Mrs. Hope's en- 
 ergetic management, the parish schoolmaster was engaged 
 to come for a couple of hours in the afternoon to teach 
 Hugh and Charley; and the boys fixed their encampment 
 in the room that had been the nursery once on a time. 
 Both drawing-room and schoolroom became more peaceful 
 in consequence; for now Charley as well as Alice had some 
 occupation in the way of lessons, and in play-hours the 
 big out-of-the-way room, with its scanty furniture, suited 
 these two noisy members of the family better than any 
 other. 
 
 The little girls did not see so much of Mrs. Hope in those
 
 A NORTHERN WINTER. 171 
 
 ilays as they had done before. She began to go out in the 
 evenings sometimes to dinner-parties ; and actually there 
 was a dinner-party at Hopefield more than once, to the 
 general overturning of the household. Also a friend came 
 to stay with her,— a lady several years older than Mrs. 
 Hope, who talked an immense deal. And this young lady — 
 or, as Alice called her, this " middle-aged person " — did not 
 like children, and made no secret of her sentiments. When 
 the little girls went up to the drawing-room in the evening, 
 they invariably found their stepmother engrossed with Miss 
 Harvey, who was telling voluble stories about people of her 
 acquaintance. Mr. Hope would, in a little, go away clown- 
 stairs to his books ; and Alice and Lina, after waiting as he 
 had done quietly for a while, would follow out their father's 
 example by escaping to their own amusements. 
 
 Autumn changed into winter as the weeks went on ; 
 snow came early, and Hopefield was clothed in white. 
 Alice and Lina laid aside the navy-blue dresses for deep 
 crimson ones, which looked bright and cosy ; and Hugh and 
 Charley got thick pilot-cloth coats to defy the northern 
 winter. A visit to Nelly was often all that could be 
 managed in the way of a walk, and the little girls and 
 Charley would snowball each other all the way down the 
 west avenue. Fraulein liked better to sit over the fire in 
 those days, and Hugh was quite of her opinion ; but the 
 weather was very stormy indeed if it could keep Alice and 
 Charley within doors, and stormier still if it prevented 
 Nelly from coming to the "big hoose" on Sunday afternoons. 
 
 " I like a winter with lots of snow," said Alice, one 
 bright forenoon as the children were going out together. 
 " Don't you like the snow too, Sam? — don't you, my dear, 
 dear old dog]" 
 
 And Sam dashed up to his mistiness, and jumped round
 
 172 IN THE WEST AVENUE. 
 
 and round her, then went plunging and floundering into 
 the heaps of snow which had been piled at the sides of the 
 avenue when the snow-plough cleared the road in the 
 morning. 
 
 " I like it too," said Lina. " It's very cold, but I like it 
 too. It's so pretty ! Look at the Scotch firs all weighed 
 down with white ! And last night, when it was snowing, 
 the flakes looked like fairies, corning down so softly. 
 Charley and I were just expecting the Sclmeekonigin to 
 look in at the. schoolroom window." 
 
 " Who was she?" asked Charley. " The Snow-queen, do 
 you mean ? the Snow-queen in the fairy tale you were tell- 
 ing me 1 ? It looked just like that, though. I wonder 
 you can keep all that stuff of German in your head, though. 
 It sounds so silly to hear you going on yaw, yaw, — ach, 
 ach ! " 
 
 " Was she telling you the story in German 1 " asked 
 Alice. 
 
 " I should rather say not ! I'd soon have punched her if 
 she had, — at least, if she had been you I would, Jemima. 
 But she found it in a German book." 
 
 " Yes, in Hans Andersen," said Lina. " Alice knows." 
 
 " Look at Sam !" said Charley. " Go after him, Jemima 
 — do ! It's very nice among the snow; — did you ever have 
 your likeness taken in it? You just fling yourself into a 
 big snow-wreath, flat down, and your picture comes out 
 better than any photograph, — and all for nothing ! Come 
 and try it." 
 
 " We did it once, Lina and I ; and it wasn't nice. No, 
 no, Charley; go yourself, if you want a likeness, — and won't 
 you find it cold ! It was beginning to thaw when we did 
 it, and the snow was watery, and oh, so dirty ! It was 
 long ago; we wouldn't be so silly now. We made ourselves
 
 AN OPPORTUNE DIVERSION. 17^ 
 
 a filthy mess, — and how you cried with the cold, Lina ! 1 
 didn't cry." 
 
 "But you cried with the whipping nurse gave us when 
 we came home," observed Lina, quietly. 
 
 " Well, yes, to be sure," said Alice, whose honesty was 
 stronger than her pride. And then followed a struggle 
 with Charley, who wanted to pull her off the road among 
 the snow; but just as Alice's temper was failing, Lina 
 made an opportune diversion by producing a paper bag 
 from under her jacket. 
 
 " What have you there, South Carolina 1" asked Charley, 
 coming to peep. 
 
 Lina revealed two rosy apples and a lump of shiny 
 brown gingerbread. " For Nelly, from mamma," said she 
 delightedly. 
 
 Charley uttered a howl of dismay and disappointment, 
 and made at her ; but she dodged him cleverly, and went 
 round behind Alice. 
 
 " No, no, Charley; none for you ! " 
 
 " Why did you show them to a fellow, then 1 " said 
 Charley, aggrieved. " It's very nasty of you. I'm sure 
 Nelly isn't nearly so hungry as I am. A bit of gingerbread 
 — a little bit ! Here, cut it off with my knife." 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Give me an apple, then, — the smallest.' 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " Let's divide an apple," said Charley, as if a happy idea 
 had occurred to him. " We'll divide one between us three. 
 (Jive it to me and I'll do it," and lie brandished his knife 
 invitingly. 
 
 " As if toe would ever get a bit after it was once in 
 your hands ! " said Alice with scorn. " You shan't touch 
 Nelly's things, so don't imagine it. Get apples for yourself,
 
 174 AT THE LODGE. 
 
 if you want. I dare say mamma will give you them, if you 
 ask her. There's a barrel of Americans come." 
 
 " All right," said Charley, the apple-lover. " I'll come 
 back and meet you. I'm tired of going to see that Mrs. 
 Veitch so often ; she didn't give us scones last time. I'll 
 get apples for us all, if Aunt Lottie will give me them." 
 
 " If you can't find mamma, you needn't ask nurse," 
 Alice shouted after him as he ran back to the house. 
 
 " He's not so stupid," said Lina ; " but mamma was in 
 the dining-room when I came out. I'm glad Charley's 
 gone, for he kept winking and making faces at me all the 
 last time we were at the Lodge, and he made me laugh. 
 Then he winked at Nelly, and Nelly was quite pleased, 
 and winked back at him ! But it wasn't a good lesson for 
 her." 
 
 "I should say not," said Alice, wrathfully; "I should 
 rather say not. If Charley teaches Nelly to wink, he 
 must never come back to see her in all his life ! " 
 
 At this moment they came in sight of the Lodge, and 
 of Nelly herself trotting about at the door. Fraulein had 
 made her a scarlet hood, as Alice had prophesied once on 
 a time, and she was dragging the wheelless cart along by 
 a bit of scarlet braid. The red about her looked bi-igkt 
 and seasonable, but the same could not be said of the 
 tumbled muslin garments of poor Augusta, taking her 
 airing in the sledge. When the doll first arrived at the 
 Lodge, Mrs. Veitch had suspended her from a nail above the 
 mantelpiece in the best room ; but this had roused the in- 
 dignation of the Hopes, who regarded it as an insult to 
 Augusta, as well as a deprivation to Nelly. Alice remon- 
 strated at last, and succeeded in getting her taken down 
 and committed into the keeping of her rightful owner. 
 But Nelly made a very careless mother, Lina feared. Even
 
 SAM AND THE DOLLY. 175 
 
 now, when she caught sight of her teachers, she set off at 
 a run, forgetting the precious creature she had in charge ; 
 and when the cart was upset, and the doll turned out in 
 her haste, she still rushed on, without ever looking to see 
 what mischief was done. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! here's Red Riding-hood coming like a house 
 on fire ! " said Alice, going down on her knees on the snow, 
 and holding out her arms to receive Nelly ; but Lina went 
 to pick up the luckless Augusta, whose prostrate body Sam 
 was already examining curiously. " Get away ! " said she, 
 pushing aside the black nose with more of roughness than 
 was usual with her ; but Sam, who never could understand 
 snubbing, and still thought that Augusta was something 
 for him, did not get away, but jumped round Lina, making 
 darts and snaps at the soiled bundle of white in her arms. 
 
 " Do call him off, Alice ! Oh, Nelly, Nelly ! poor 
 Augusta is very much hurt, I'm afraid." 
 
 " The dolly canna be hurt," said Nelly, with cool in- 
 credulity, as she trotted along with her hand fast locked in 
 Alice's. 
 
 But to Lina Augusta was a real personality, and her 
 little scholar's words seemed almost brutal. Lina was 
 supposed to be too old now to play with dolls, and her last 
 waxen treasure had been laid aside in a drawer nearly a 
 year ago ; but no one knew how often and how wistfully 
 she went to gaze on it, and how, when she was quite sure 
 no one was near, she would take it out to hug and talk to. 
 The dressing of Augusta for Nelly had been an intense 
 pleasure to Lina ; and as it was for her Sunday scholar, 
 not hei-self, no one could say she was too big a girl to be 
 working for a doll. Now, when Alice and Nelly passed 
 on indiil'erent, Lina walked slowly behind, smoothing poor 
 Augusta's ruffled muslins, and wiping the snow off as well
 
 17G A PIECE OF INFORMATION. 
 
 as she could with her handkerchief; and, finally, she im- 
 printed a furtive kiss on the remains of the mouth, whose 
 red-painted lips had been nearly rubbed off the poor, dirty, 
 battered face. 
 
 " How would you like it, Nelly, if your mother tumbled 
 you out of a cart into the snow, and then just left you 
 lying there 1 " 
 
 " My muzzer's comin' on Tuesday-day," said Nelly, ig- 
 noring Lina's question, and giving her piece of information 
 with the greatest coolness. 
 
 The Hopes exchanged glances of astonishment over the 
 top of the red hood, and debated in their own minds how 
 much reliance was to be placed on Nelly's words. They 
 had already found that their little pupil possessed a very 
 lively imagination of her own ; moreover, that Mrs. Veitch's 
 way of managing her was by what Alice bluntly called 
 " telling lies." It was quite possible that the grandmother 
 had threatened Nelly with her mother " coming to keep 
 her in order;" though she was little more likely to arrive 
 next week than was the "Black Man," for whose name 
 familiarity had long ago bred contempt in Nelly's mind. 
 
 " It's a great shame of the old fool, if she has," said 
 Alice, answei'ing her own unspoken thoughts, and Lina's. 
 
 Alice had been trying very hard of late to bridle her 
 tongue, for Nelly's sake, and especially in Nelly's presence; 
 but indignation was too strong for her this time. Child as 
 she was, Alice saw perfectly the ruinous consequences of 
 Mrs. Veitch's system of up-bringing. Often had the little 
 teachers been sorely tried by the extraordinary stories their 
 Nelly used to bring them. Fabrications these tales cer- 
 tainly wei'e ; but the question constantly rose, How much 
 of them did Nelly invent, and how much did the grand- 
 mother make for her own purposes 1 So Alice, in her
 
 "ben the hoose." 177 
 
 anger, called Mrs. Veitch an old fool ; and Lina agreed 
 with her too cordially to remonstrate, even with her eyes. 
 
 " Gra'ina says my muzzer's comin' on Tuesday-day," re- 
 peated Mrs. Veitch's little grand-daughter again, all un- 
 conscious of the wrath which was ready to pour itself on 
 the head of her relative. 
 
 " Well — I hope so," Alice answered grimly. 
 
 Mrs. Veitch was in the midst of her Saturday cleaning 
 when the little girls appeared. She was down on her 
 knees washing the kitchen floor; but she hastily left her 
 work, and, unpinning her tucked-up skirt the while, she 
 ushered her visitors into the best room. On any other 
 occasion, Alice and Lina would probably have had con- 
 sideration enough to refuse to interrupt her labours ; but 
 to-day they both felt as if they were ruthless inquisitors, 
 determined to come to the bottom of Mrs. Yeitch's sayings 
 and doings. She had corrupted Nelly quite long enough, 
 they thought ; it was time she was checked, even though 
 her kitchen remained unwashed all Sunday in consequence. 
 The children both looked rather glum as they seated 
 themselves in the unused, uncomfortable chamber, where 
 all the old woman's treasures of art, in the way of tidies 
 and stone ornaments, were collected. There was a press- 
 bed in one end, but the room was regarded as a drawing- 
 room rather than a bed-chamber. A blue bead-basket 
 stood in the centre of the table, and a wonderful picture of 
 the whole Royal Family hung above the mantelpiece. Alice 
 and Lina always went to the kitchen from preference, when 
 it was at all practicable to do so ; but " ben the hoose " 
 was a place of wonder and delight to Nelly. She came in 
 after her teachers very willingly, and immediately com- 
 menced examining an. elegant shell-bordered pin-cushion 
 which happened to be within her reach. 
 
 (664) 1 2
 
 178 AN INDIGNANT PROTEST. 
 
 "Let be, Nelly," said Mrs. Veitch. "Let be when 
 ye're bid, or I'll pit ye awa wi' the tinkei'S. That muckle 
 wife was hei - e again the day, speiring if she could get a bad 
 lassie." 
 
 " But I winna go," said "Nelly defiantly. 
 
 " See an' behave yersel', then, an' I winna pit ye," was 
 the answer, given with a sidelong little grimace towards 
 the Hopes, to make them share in the joke. Poor Mrs. 
 Veitch had not the least idea she was putting a light to 
 tinder. 
 
 " Mrs. Veitch ! " said Alice, with flashing eyes ; " how 
 can you say untrue things like that — and laugh? You 
 know the gipsy didn't say that to you ; and you know you 
 would never give them Nelly ! How can she ever learn 
 to be good, when you tell her things like that 1 " and Alice 
 gathered the little red-hooded Thing within the shelter of 
 her own arms, and held her close. 
 
 Mrs. Veitch had got it now ; but, considering the boil- 
 ing state of Alice's feelings, it was only wonderful that 
 they had bubbled over so harmlessly. The old woman was 
 only perplexed, not offended, even when Lina took up the 
 strain. 
 
 " How can you think it right to say such things to her ? 
 And is it true that her mother's coming on Tuesday 1 " 
 
 " Ay, ay ; did the bairn tell ye 1 " said Mrs. Veitch, 
 eager to get within her depth again. " Poor Helen's been 
 ill this twalmonth ; and she'd to leave her place ; and 
 she gaed to the hospital, in Glasgow, — her mistress sent 
 her. It's four weeks syne; but they're feart there's no 
 muckle the doctors can do for her, — she maun just come 
 hame an' tak' a rest, that's a'." 
 
 " You never told us before, Mrs. Veitch ! " 
 
 " The letter only cam' the day," said the poor old woman,
 
 THE DIGNITY OF SORROW. 179 
 
 with a grave, quiet sorrow, that was unlike her usual 
 manner. 
 
 " O dear ! and did you never know she was in the hospi- 
 tal, though she's been there four weeks 1 " 
 
 " I'd never any learnin', Miss Lina, an' I canna read 
 write ; or, I'se warran' ye, my lassie wad hae written me 
 oftener, for she's a braw scholar. An' mebbe she didna 
 want to send me ill news ; an', I believe it, she wadna let 
 her mistress write to tell me when she gaed awa'. But 
 the letter cam' the day, an' I gaed up to the hoose wi' it to 
 Jessie. She was aye a freend o' Helen's." 
 
 " "We've not seen Jessie since the morning, or she would 
 have told us," said Lina. " I'm so sorry ! But I think a 
 rest will do your daughter good, and make her better." 
 
 She spoke tenderly and respectfully. Her whole feel- 
 ings to Mrs. Veitch were changed, now that the old 
 woman was clothed in this pathetic dignity of sorrow. 
 That she had reason to think badly of her daughter's state, 
 even the children's eyes could see. The doctors' verdict, 
 that they could do nothing for Nelly's mother, struck on 
 their ears like a knell. If Lina could have found words, 
 she would have begged Mrs. Veitch's pardon for her indig- 
 nant outburst of a minute before. As for Alice, though 
 she firmly maintained to herself the fact that Mrs. Veitch's 
 sorrow about her daughter was no reason why she should 
 be allowed to deceive her grandchild — even Alice would 
 have given a great deal to be able to unsay her own words. 
 But though the children racked their brains for apologies, 
 none suitable coidd be found ; and perhaps it was as well, 
 considering that Mrs. Veitch would have been incapable 
 of understanding the feelings that prompted them. 
 
 " If we could do anything for your daughter," said Lina 
 at last, thinking that a kind little set speech was the best
 
 180 TEARFULLY GRATEFUL. 
 
 thing she could give — " if we could do anything for your 
 daughter, we would be so glad. Perhaps grapes would be 
 good for her, or brown soup, or beef-tea — made nurse's 
 way, you know, Lally." 
 
 " I don't think nurse would make it, though," said 
 Alice. " Better not promise too much." 
 
 She did not mean in the least to be rude, but her words 
 came out so bluntly that Lina flushed crimson. " But I'm 
 sure of the brown soup and the grapes — and jelly, if your 
 daughter likes it," said she, eagerly; "and perhaps the 
 beef-tea. But I'm sure of the other things, because they're 
 mamma's." 
 
 " Yes ; mamma's always good," Alice said in confirma- 
 tion ; and Mrs. Veitch became tearfully grateful. 
 
 " I'm sure, you're vera kind, Miss Hope — I'm sure, 
 you're vera kind, Miss Lina." 
 
 " Not at all ; the things are mamma's. Lina, come 
 along." 
 
 Alice had a habit — perfectly unconscious on her part — 
 of snubbing Mrs. Veitch, and thereby reducing one of the 
 most talkative of old women to silence. On this occasion, 
 though she managed completely to check her flow of words, 
 she was feeling positively affectionate and sympathetic 
 towards her. When she reached the outer door, she sud- 
 denly seized hold of Mrs. Veitch 's hand, reddened and 
 wrinkled with work, and clasped it between her own white 
 ones. 
 
 "If I knew any way to help you, I'd do it," said Alice, 
 earnestly. " Lina and I love Nelly as if she were our own 
 child, so her mother must be something to us."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TWO LIFE-STORIES. 
 
 jFTEE, that, the children kept away from Mrs. 
 Veitch's for several days. They felt it was 
 better that the preparations for the arrival of 
 Nelly's mother, as well as the arrival itself, should pass 
 over undisturbed by them. 
 
 But, of course, Nelly came as usual on Sunday afternoon, 
 and went through her lessons, and received the gingerbread 
 and the apples, which were not at all spoiled by being kept 
 for a night in the schoolroom press. And Alice and Lina 
 began to talk to their little scholar about her mother, and 
 were vexed and astonished to find that Nelly did not seem 
 much moved in any way by the prospect of her coming. 
 To the Hopes themselves the event recalled that happy day 
 when their stepmother came first to them. It was not 
 (pate the same, to be sure, — that was a time of flowers, 
 this a time of snow. Moreover, they had a vague idea 
 of another difference between the two home-comings: the 
 one was an entrance into a new life, bright and fresh 
 and happy; the other was a return, sick and Aveary, to 
 familiar places of childhood. Still, the cases seemed to 
 them like enough to keep them talking over both after 
 Nelly had gone. 
 
 " One good thing for Nelly is, she'll have no Miss 
 Harvey to come and stay with her mother and talk to her
 
 182 the scholar's PROGRESS. 
 
 about sofa-blankets, and cushions, and people getting 
 married, so that she can never have her," said Alice. 
 
 " Unless Jessie goes to the Lodge," suggested Lina. 
 
 " But we won't let her. We'll ask mamma not to let 
 her." 
 
 Then Mrs. Hope chanced to come into the schoolroom, 
 and hearing what had been the subject of conversation, 
 was greatly amused, and yielded herself up to her step- 
 daughters for a while. So they put her in the arm-chair 
 by the fire, and Alice sat on one of the elbows of it and 
 Lina on the other, while Toodlekins had the place of 
 honour in Mrs. Hope's lap. And the children went on 
 talking about Nelly's mother, and told Mrs. Hope all they 
 knew about her; which was little enough, after all. But 
 then they could pass over to Nelly herself, an unfailing 
 subject of conversation with them, and one they were sure 
 their stepmother would be interested in; for was it not 
 Mrs. Hope who had given them their little scholar 1 
 
 Nelly was getting on so well. She could say the whole 
 of her hymn now, and she knew many of the histories 
 belonging to the pictures in the blue book. " And she 
 can sing ' The Lord's my Shepherd ' to the tune of Barrow," 
 said Alice, proudly. " We're going to make her sing it to 
 nurse some day soon." 
 
 " Nurse will be very much pleased, I've no doubt," said 
 Mrs. Hope, "and she'll think it all right, though Nelly 
 does not understand a word of it any more than if she 
 were a parrot." 
 
 "Oh! but, mamma, Nelly does understand," put in 
 Lina, eagerly. " To-day we were showing her the picture 
 of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, with a lamb in his arms; and 
 we told her Jesus' sheep were grown-up people, and his 
 lambs were little children. And Nelly did understand;
 
 AN ABRUPT QUESTION. 183 
 
 for she looked up very quick and bright, and said, ' I'm 
 ane o' them ! ' She meant she was one of the lambs. 
 Wasn't that nice, mamma"? " 
 
 Mrs. Hope did not need to answer Lina. A move- 
 ment from the sofa made her turn round. " Is that you 
 there, Hugh 1 ? You're such a quiet mouse, we quite forget 
 you. Are you not cold, so far from the fire 1" 
 
 " Yes, rather; thank you," said Hugh, and came forward 
 into the circle of light and warmth that was round the fire. 
 He went down on the rug, and stretched out his hands to 
 the blaze, as if he felt very chilly. It was a pathetic 
 sight, the little figure so shrunken and childish, and the 
 thin, delicate face, which looked unusually sharp and old 
 to-night. But the others were accustomed to it, and 
 though a silence fell upon them for a little, it was only 
 because their conversation had been broken off and it was 
 not easy to pick it up again all at once. It was Mrs. 
 Hope who had interrupted it, not Hugh. If she had not 
 turned round and spoken to him, it was unlikely he would 
 have disturbed them by any remark whatever; so, though 
 the break vexed Alice and Lina, they did not blame their 
 cousin. Indeed, though Hugh was before their eyes, he 
 was not in their minds at all during the few minutes they 
 sat silent after Lina had told the stoiy about Nelly. 
 Nevertheless, it was Hugh who spoke first : still looking at 
 the fire, and holding his hands close over it, he startled 
 them with the abrupt question, " Do you two believe all 
 that you teach Nelly 1 " 
 
 The children stared at him in horror and amazement. 
 Even Alice could not find breath to answer immediately, 
 though, of course, it was she who did manage to speak first. 
 
 " I should rather think so ! " said Alice, with all her 
 heart.
 
 IS I GENERAL SURPRISE. 
 
 Then there was another pause for a little, till Mrs. 
 Hope spoke. " What makes you ask such a thing, Hugh 1 ?" 
 
 "I wanted to know; that was all," he answered coolly, 
 and turned away from the fire to look at them. Mrs. 
 Hope was regarding him rather curiously from under the 
 shade of the hand she was holding up to shield her face 
 from the fire, and Alice had slipped off the arm of the 
 chair and stood staring at her cousin, as if he were some 
 strange animal. But Lina had her face down on her step- 
 mother's shoulder, so that he could not see it at all. 
 
 " I'm sorry I've shocked you ; I didn't mean to," said 
 Hugh. " And I didn't mean to hint that Alice and Lina 
 don't believe the things they say. In fact, I rather thought 
 they did; but I wanted to hear them say so." 
 
 " Are we all to say our creed, then 1 " asked Mrs. Hope. 
 
 "No, Aunt Lottie; I wasn't asking you. What do you 
 say, Lina 1 ? The same as Alice 1 ? She's answered already." 
 
 " Come, Hugh, have done now," said Mrs. Hope, half 
 amused, half angry. " I won't have you torment Alice 
 and Lina this way. Study the Catechism yourself, and 
 don't put it to other peoj:)le in that insufferable fashion. 
 Never mind him, Alice. Never mind him, Lina, my pet ; 
 he is not worth it. We'll all go to the drawing-room, and 
 leave him to his own meditations." 
 
 " No ; don't go away for me. I shan't bother you any 
 more. I'm going off to look for Charley," said Hugh, 
 smiling a little as he rose. 
 
 " Why didn't you speak, Lina 1 " asked Alice, indig- 
 nantly, as the door closed behind her cousin. 
 
 "I couldn't/ " the poor little girl answered, in a choked 
 voice. 
 
 " No matter, dear. There was no need of speaking. It 
 i« much better not to answer people when they tease you
 
 LINA HAS A COLD. 185 
 
 — far the best plan in every way," said Mrs. Hope. " If 
 you only keep to it, you won't get into many quarrels." 
 
 But Lina could not altogether take the comfort which 
 her stepmother gave. She knew that Alice thought her 
 cowardly, and she herself felt that she had been so. For 
 several days she waited, thinking much over the matter, 
 and half hoj^ing, half fearing, that she might have an 
 oppoi-tunity of speaking privately to her cousin. And 
 Hugh went about as usual, and seemed equally unconscious 
 that Lina was watching him wistfully, and that Alice 
 pointedly avoided him as if he were an evil and a danger- 
 ous thing. 
 
 Thursday came at last — a gray, misty day, chilly and 
 raw. A few snow-flakes were floating about in the air, as 
 if they did not know where to fall; the carpet over the 
 ground had lost its freshness, and was white and pure no 
 longer. Nevertheless, Alice looked out undaunted, and, 
 forenoon lessons being over, called to her sister to get ready 
 for a walk. 
 
 " Lina, do you remember this is Thursday 1 I think we 
 ought to go and see Nelly and her mother to-day." 
 
 " O Lally ! and I'm not allowed to go out to-day 
 at all ! " 
 
 "What in the world made you take cold just now?" 
 asked Alice indignantly. " Of course, I'll have to wait for 
 you ; and you'll likely be ever so long of getting better." 
 
 " I didn't want to take cold," Lina answered, half crying. 
 
 After that, the little girls maintained a dignified sulki- 
 ness for a time, but generosity soon triumphed on both 
 sides. 
 
 " Lally, you should go without me ! " 
 
 "Not a bit of me ! Nurse will give you gruel to-night. 
 You take lots of it, and you'll lie all right to-morrow —
 
 18G HUGH AND HIS COUSIN. 
 
 see if you aren't; and it'll be a better day, and it'll be 
 much jollier to go together." 
 
 " But Mrs. Veitch may think it unkind of us not to 
 come and ask for her daughter." 
 
 "It doesn't matter what a stupid old woman like her 
 thinks." 
 
 " But Nelly's mother may think it strange herself." 
 
 " I'm sorry ; but never mind ! " 
 
 " And Nelly will be disappointed that no one has come 
 to see her for such a long time ! " 
 
 Alice hesitated. " Wouldn't they let you go out if you 
 rolled up ever so much 1 " 
 
 "No; but, Lally, go you! You can tell me all about 
 it when you come home, and that will be next best to 
 going myself. Do go." 
 
 So Alice went upstairs to dress. Fraulein bad left the 
 schoolroom, and Charley was already outside preparing a 
 store of snowballs wherewith to pelt his cousin whenever 
 she appeared. Therefore, when Hugh came and established 
 himself on the window-seat with a heap of books about 
 him, Lina felt that her opportunity had arrived, and 
 longed for courage to make use of it. 
 
 Hucrh seemed in a brighter humour and more talkative 
 than usual — that is to say, he actually spoke of his own 
 accord, as he drew his books lovingly towards him. 
 
 "We've got rid of Alice and Charley — that's good. 
 Now for a long pull at my German." 
 
 He had begun to take German lessons from Fraulein, 
 and was making rapid progress as far as reading was 
 concerned ; but neither teacher nor pupil seemed at all 
 anxious to commence conversation. 
 
 But Hugh did not get settled down to his studies 
 immediately, for the skirmish between Charley and Alice
 
 MAKING A CONFESSION. 1S7 
 
 came off in front of the window, and lasted till a turn of 
 the avenue hid the combatants from view. Lina stood 
 beside Hugh and laughed ; but afterwards her face grew 
 grave, and she gazed at her cousin. He too turned away 
 from the window, and in so doing caught her look, and 
 asked rather sharply, — 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 " Hugh, I've something to say to you." 
 
 "All right, old woman; go on," he said in a patronizing 
 tone. 
 
 " Do you remember what you asked me and Alice on 
 Sunday night?" 
 
 Hugh looked scrutinizingly into the earnest face above 
 him, as if he would like to know exactly what Lina's 
 thoughts were. 
 
 " Yes, I do remember," he said. 
 
 " I didn't answer you then, Hugh ; I was stupid, and 
 you took me all in a hurry. I've been sorry ever since 
 that I didn't answer you. Hugh, I do believe !" 
 
 She made her confession in fear and trembling, poor 
 little girl, with no more intention of edifying her cousin 
 than of glorifying herself thereby. But the Lord Jesus 
 had said that those who denied him before men he also 
 would deny before his Father in heaven; and Lina felt she 
 had merited that. The child had been torturing herself 
 for the last day or two with the thought that her hesita- 
 tion in answering Hugh's abrupt question had been an act 
 of treason to her King, compared to which St. Peter's sin 
 was trifling. " For Peter had some excuse. They might 
 have crucified him if they had known ; but no one would 
 have done any real harm to me !" poor Lina had said to 
 herself when her fits of remorse came over her. And now, 
 when she had found an opportunity to try and repair the
 
 188 A BOLD ASSERTION. 
 
 evil she had done, she was determined to do it with all 
 her might ; cowardice should not step in again to ruin 
 the cause she had at heart. 
 
 " I do believe, Hugh," she said again, very eagerly. 
 
 " My dear," said Hugh, " you've been distressing your- 
 self about nothing. I never meant to say that you didn't 
 believe what you teach Nelly. I said as much on Sunday 
 night, didn't I ? It was a stupid question for me to ask, I 
 suppose, and I'm sorry. You seem to take these things 
 very much to heart." 
 
 " I do take them to heart," Lina returned simply. 
 
 It was impossible to look at her and not see it was true ; 
 and Hugh suddenly dropped the cool, superior tone of 
 kindness he had been using. 
 
 " What would you think, if I were to tell you I didn't 
 believe one word was true of all these stories that you tell 
 your Nelly?" 
 
 "0 Hugh!" 
 
 "Would you be horribly shocked?" 
 
 "I don't know; but I should be so horribly sorry for 
 you," said Lina. 
 
 "And why, please?" 
 
 " Because then you must be so very miserable ! " 
 
 Lina had forgotten herself entirely, and was shy no 
 longer. The idea that in this world of ours there might 
 be people without God, and therefore, as it seemed to her 
 of necessity, without hope, was so entirely new and 
 unutterably sad that it filled her whole mind. And over 
 Hugh's face, as she spoke, there passed a spasm of exceed- 
 ing pain and bitterness. 
 
 " Miserable ! Yes, I am that — miserable enough some- 
 times. So would you be, Lina, if you were like me." 
 
 Then it seemed as if another door suddenly opened to
 
 A PERPLEXED, SELF-CONSCIOUS CHILD. 189 
 
 Lina ; and she saw away into Hugh's life, and it was all 
 empty and dreary and dark. The poor boy was put aside 
 from others, far away from them all, and he had not the 
 Lord with him in his loneliness. 
 
 "0 Hugh!" said Lina, "pray; pray to God to show 
 you that it's all true. He'll give you the Holy Spirit to 
 make you see it, if you only ask him. Hugh ! pray for 
 that. You can't be happy if you don't believe." 
 
 And then suddenly the word she used recalled to 
 Lina her own theological difficulties of a week or two 
 back. Was believing as she had told Hugh she believed 
 — simply trusting that what God said was true — all that 
 was needed 1 Did the word, as used in the Bible, just 
 mean the same as it did in common life 1 When she said, 
 and said truly, that she " believed," would the apostles, if 
 they had heard her, have been satisfied, and have declared 
 she was ready to be baptized 1 ? Was it "saving faith" she 
 was urging Hugh to pray for 1 ? Oh, was it true, then, 
 that she had it herself 1 ? 
 
 Poor little perplexed, self-conscious child ! At her 
 sister's bidding she had laid her difficulties aside unsolved 
 once. Now they were before her again ; but, thank God, 
 this time she seemed to be getting through them. 
 
 " O Lord ! I believe," said Lina in her heart ; and she 
 went deeper this time than in the confession made to 
 Hugh, which was only of her faith in the things she told 
 to Nelly. " Lord, I believe," said Lina now ; " I believe 
 thee ! " She forgot not only Hugh, but herself, for a little, 
 until her cousin's voice recalled her. 
 
 "You're a good little girl, Lina," he said in his ordinary 
 tones ; " but don't afflict yourself about me. I'm not a 
 heathen; I don't cZwbelievc the Bible and all that — at least. 
 as far as T know my sentiments. The truth is, i never
 
 190 A DRKARY FAMILY HISTORY. 
 
 thought much about it, and I only wanted to get a joke 
 out of you just now • and as for the rest of my idiocy, 
 think no more of that either. I'm not for ever miserable ; 
 no, by no manner of means. I'd rather be what I am, 
 than be strong and a fool, like a great many people I 
 know." 
 
 The attempted jocularity of the speech jarred on Lina 
 more than the cool piece of self-conceit with which it 
 closed. She made no answer, and Hugh took up his 
 German books again, and began seeking out words in the 
 dictionary with a great appearance of business. 
 
 Lina had meant to read too ; even now she had a big 
 volume of fairy tales in her hand, and she sat down on the 
 rug with it. But her thoughts were far away from Hans 
 Andersen. She could not say anything more to Hugh 
 now; probably, unless he himself began the subject, she 
 never would allude to it again. But the glimpse she had 
 got into her cousin's heart had changed all her feelings to- 
 wards him. Now she set to thinking over all she had 
 heard from nurse of the Mackenzies' family history, which 
 in itself was dreary enough to cast a shadow over the boy's 
 life. 
 
 Their father had been killed suddenly — thrown from 
 his horse when out riding alone. Hugh must distinctly 
 remember the terrible day when they carried him home 
 dead, for the news of it coming to Hopefield was within 
 Lina's own recollection. The Mackenzies left their Scotch 
 home after that, for their mother, who was a confirmed 
 invalid even then, could bear the place no longer. The 
 next years of their life were spent in restless wanderings 
 from one place in the south of England to another ; but 
 the boys did not remain with their mother till the end. 
 Before that came she had ceased to care even for them ;
 
 AN UNSPOKEN VOW. 191 
 
 the hist months of her life were almost a complete mental 
 blank ; and when she was laid to rest at last by the side 
 of her husband, Hugh and Charley had been more than a 
 year at Torquay. Of the life there, at Miss Baker's, Lina 
 had learned enough from Hugh's sneering remarks and 
 Charley's ridiculous stories to be able to judge how unhome- 
 like it must have been. 
 
 All this was sad enough, Lina thought ; and yet, apart 
 from it all, poor Hugh had cause to find the world a 
 darkened place for him. Lina had only become reconciled 
 to the sight of his painful ill-health and deformity by the 
 thought that the boy himself did not feel it much. Now 
 she could never fancy that again ; she only wondered that 
 it had ever been possible for her to do so. The tone of 
 intense bitterness with which Hugh had spoken still 
 seemed to ring in her ears, asking her how she would feel 
 in his place. And Lina, shy, self-conscious, deeply depen- 
 dent on the love of others, did imagine herself like Hugh, 
 and shuddered at the thought. 
 
 Then she made an unspoken vow, with something of 
 tender womanly sentiment and tenderer Chx-istian charity 
 in her childish soul. From henceforth she would do what- 
 ever she could to comfort this cousin of hers. She opened 
 her heart, with all its treasures of love, and took in Hugh, 
 in spite of his pride and reserve and general want of 
 amiability. 
 
 She promised to give him the same ready sympathy and 
 loyal service as she yielded to Alice, and she would ask 
 for nothing in return but to see him happier. For Line's 
 aspirations did not soar higher than that at present ; she 
 had no idea of making Hugh better. 
 
 It never occurred to her that she might possibly give 
 him a helping hand on the heavenward way, where she
 
 192 WHAT LINA MEANT TO DO. 
 
 and Alice were going and taking Nelly. She never once 
 thought of beginning a home-mission work on Hugh as 
 part of her task in the vineyard of the Lord. Except in 
 the way of praying for him — for as she had resolved to 
 pray that he might be made happy, it was necessary to 
 pray that he might be made good too — Lina made no plans 
 for Hugh's moral welfare. She had no resemblance to 
 those children told of in good books, who preach eloquent 
 sermons to their elders, and have a specially keen interest 
 in the state of their parents' souls. Ingenious as Lina 
 was in torturing herself with religious speculations, she 
 never took to considering the faults of nurse, or wondering 
 if her stepmother was a Christian ; and had the idea of 
 admonishing and questioning either of them, or any other 
 grown-up person, been presented to her, she would have 
 rejected it in horror. 
 
 Therefore, as Hugh, being nearly fifteen years old, was 
 a person of advanced age in Lina's eyes, she did not feel 
 herself at all called upon to act as his mentor. Even 
 when he had pressed her hard to speak that day, and she 
 had forgotten herself in hearing of his trouble, she had 
 been perfectly unable to give him any religious consolation 
 of an original kind. She could only bid him pray. 
 
 And now she was content to leave her cousin's spiritual 
 state in God's hand, not trying to improve that at all, but 
 spending her efforts in making outside daily life pleasanter 
 to the boy. This was what Lina meant to do. Whether 
 she was right or wrong, I cannot tell. 
 
 Meanwhile, Hugh, in the midst of his heaped-up books, 
 wrote an exercise in a careful, cramped hand, and success- 
 fully picked out the sense of a paragraph of German, all 
 unconscious of the thoughts of Lina, sitting on the rug, 
 and gazing at him with grave blue eyes. And Alice had
 
 THE YOUNG AMAZON. 193 
 
 sped away on her mission of inquiry about Nelly and her 
 mother, having finished the battle with Charley, not with- 
 out honour on her own side. He went off at last, declar- 
 ing he meant to pay a visit to the gardener's cottage, and 
 see if any of the boys there would come and play with 
 him; but he had been pretty well pelted by Alice first, 
 and his departure looked rather like flight. 
 
 "Comeback! come back! Here's a big one for you," 
 his cousin shouted after him. 
 
 " There's no good playing with girls," retorted Charley 
 from afar; but distinctly the wind bore to him the scoi'n- 
 ful laughter which was Alice's only answer. 
 
 When the enemy was fairly out of sight, the young 
 Amazon laid down her weapons; that is to say, she de- 
 posited her last and biggest snowball under a great holly- 
 bush, where she might easily find it again, if need be. 
 Then she looked down with some dismay on the traces 
 which the combat had left upon her garments. It was 
 necessary that Nelly's teacher should be able to inspire 
 respect in the eyes of Nelly's mother, this first day they 
 were to light upon her; so Alice violently shook and 
 squeezed her crimson skirts and her long hair, then pro- 
 duced her handkerchief, and gave jacket, mittens, and 
 stockings a careful rubbing. When this was accomplished, 
 she flattered herself that she had entirely got rid of any 
 snow which might have adhered to her from Charlev's 
 balls, and that, altogether, she presented a very neat ap- 
 pearance. With head thrown back, and figure very erect, 
 Alice then advanced with slow and dignified steps towards 
 the Lodge. 
 
 The mist was coming about the little cottage stealthily ; 
 and even the ivy, which wrapped round the walls with its 
 thick green folds, looked wet, and cold, and dingy. But Alice 
 (564) 13
 
 194 nelly's mother. 
 
 was not so sensitive to such impressions as Lina was, and 
 exercise had made her warm; so, unchilled either in mind 
 or body by the dreariness of the day, she arrived at Mrs. 
 Veitch's door, and rapped sharply thereon. There was a 
 moment's pause, then a hand was laid on the latch within, 
 and a figure appeared before which all Alice's dignity fled 
 at once. 
 
 It was that of a tall, pale woman, young and very 
 delicate-looking, with black-brown hair so wavy, that it 
 looked as if it was trying to get loose into curls out of 
 the coil in which it was twisted back tight. But it was 
 her eyes that were the most remarkable thing about her. 
 Dark they were as Nelly's own, and very large, but with 
 such a wild, restless look of sadness in them as Alice had 
 never seen before on any face. 
 
 The little girl could find nothing to say; but after a 
 moment the stranger spoke herself, without any of Mrs. 
 Veitch's fuss of welcome and respect. " Miss Hope?" 
 she said inquiringly, in a tone of pei^fect self-possession. 
 " Will you come in, please, and sit down 1 ? My mother 
 will be home in a little." 
 
 As Alice took the chair placed for her by the kitchen 
 fire, she looked round for Nelly; but in vain. The little 
 Thing was nowhere visible, any more than the grand- 
 mother. Nelly's mother seated herself by the table at the 
 window, which was all piled up with some sort of white 
 work, and began to sew. Perhaps the exertion of coming 
 to the door had brought some faint colour to her face be- 
 fore, or perhaps it was the gray, sickly light from the win- 
 dow falling upon her that made her look so wan now; but 
 Alice, sitting watching her, was frightened by her appear- 
 ance. She had never seen any one look so ill before. 
 This woman's very lips were white; and the fingers, "with
 
 HER RECEPTION OF ALICE. 195 
 
 which she worked in nervous haste, seemed almost trans- 
 parent, and so thin that it was with difficulty the wedding- 
 ring kept its place on her left hand. 
 
 " You shouldn't have come to the door," said Alice 
 bluntly. " I don't think you should be up at all. You 
 should be in bed." 
 
 " Oh no," said Nelly's mother, speaking rapidly, but not 
 looking up, as she folded a hem in her work. " I've not 
 been very strong lately; but I am not so ill as to be in 
 bed;" and then — partly, perhaps, to turn the conversation, 
 and partly because she felt she had not been properly at- 
 tentive to the entertainment of her visitor — she said im- 
 mediately, " It's very dull and cold to-day, and not plea- 
 sant for walking. But it seems so much lighter to me 
 here than in Glasgow. There's very little light there in 
 the winter-time." 
 
 " I've never been in Glasgow," Alice answered shortly. 
 She felt more embarrassed with this daughter of Mrs. 
 Veitch and her fluent talk than she had ever done in her 
 life; and yet it was not without pleasure that she noticed 
 that Nelly's mother addressed her as if she were a grown- 
 up person. No one had ever done that before, and it was 
 infinitely more flattering to Alice than all Mrs. Veitch's 
 courtesies and profusely-expressed gratitude. 
 
 Presently the door opened, and Mrs. Veitch came in, 
 with a big basket on her arm, followed by Nelly, carrying 
 Augusta upside down in one hand. 
 
 " Eh ! Miss Hope," said the old woman, with her ever- 
 ready obeisance, " this is an awfu' cold day for ye to be 
 out." But even as she spoke she darted a quick look of 
 half-frightened inquiry towards the figure at the window, 
 as if she felt rather dubious whether her daughter was 
 inclined to welcome her visitor.
 
 1 96 TEACHER AND SCHOLAR. 
 
 Any want of warmth in Mrs. Veitch's manner was, 
 however, amply made up for by the exuberant joy with 
 which Nelly greeted her teacher. There was a rush of 
 little feet across the kitchen floor, and two arms were 
 round Alice's neck immediately. A minute after, the 
 little one was ensconced on her friend's knee; stroking 
 Alice's jacket and playing with her hair, while she poured 
 forth an eager account of her expedition to the " shop wi' 
 gra'ma." 
 
 It was four days since Nelly had seen Miss Hope; and, 
 after the story of her purchases had been told, she must 
 needs ask after Toodlekins and Miss Lina, and give a re- 
 port of Augusta's condition. Finally, she volunteered to 
 repeat all her texts and hymns; which she did with great 
 gravity, and to the entire satisfaction of herself and her 
 teacher. All this took up some considerable time, dur- 
 ing which no one spoke but Alice and Nelly; who had, 
 indeed, forgotten that others were present at all. And, 
 meanwhile, Mrs. Veitch sat by the fire and warmed herself 
 meditatively : while Nelly's mother still sewed on, with an 
 occasional quick glance at the children. 
 
 Alice never showed to greater advantage than when she 
 was with Nelly. Her brusque and romping ways seemed 
 in a great measure to leave her, and her manner was 
 graver and gentler than it was with any one else. All 
 the tenderness of her nature seemed reserved for this little 
 child; and she had her folded now in her arms with an 
 air of protecting motherliness that was very pi*etty. 
 
 " I didn't think," said Nelly's mother at last, " that 
 Miss Hope was such a grown-up young lady." 
 
 Alice straightened herself with a bright look of pleasure. 
 No more acceptable compliment could have been paid her. 
 Undoubtedly, however, the fact that she was unusually
 
 helen russell's life-story. 197 
 
 tall for her years was no advantage to her, as she was by 
 no means unusually wise. 
 
 " She would be but a little bairn when you left, 
 Helen?" Mrs. Yeitch remarked. 
 
 " Yes," was the reply, spoken without looking up. 
 Was poor Helen Russell afraid that her life-story was so 
 plainly written in those eyes of hers, that even a child 
 could read it? Alice noticed then, and noticed afterwards, 
 how unwilling she appeared to meet her gaze. " Yes, 
 a little child" (she almost never used a Scotch word). 
 " And Miss Carrie, is she nearly as tall now as you 
 arc?" 
 
 " Lina ? Yes, very nearly ; but not so fat. She's only 
 fourteen months younger, you know. I think we're like 
 each other." 
 
 " You're very like your mamma." 
 
 " Oh dear, no," said Alice, in wonder. Then, recollect- 
 ing herself, she added in a lower tone, " Oh — like our 
 mother, you mean. Well — perhaps. I can't remember 
 her." 
 
 " She was the most beautiful lady that ever walked the 
 earth," said Nelly's mother, still sewing on, and speaking 
 in the same rapid tone ; " and she was the best. She was 
 very kind to me. I was in her Sunday class, and saw her 
 often besides that. She had me in the house for a while 
 to learn to sew with her maid — to help, she said, but I 
 knew it was for my own sake she did it. She did every- 
 thing she could for me — and I was very ungrateful. When 
 1 heard how kind you had been to my little girl, I hoped 
 she would make you a better return." 
 
 " Ay, Mistress Hope was a right sweet leddy," said Mrs. 
 Veitch, as her daughter paused for a moment. But Alice 
 was silent and thoughtful, and kept looking over to the
 
 198 A NEW REVELATION. 
 
 .strange woman by the window, who had stopped her sew 
 ing suddenly, and was gazing out into the gray mist. 
 
 "I'd like to go out — just once, if I could only see her 
 grave ! I'll never hear her voice again, but the very place 
 where she lies must be good to be in, I think — " 
 
 " It's ten years since our mother died," said Alice then. 
 " And I can't remember her at all ! And I never heard she 
 had a Sunday class. Why did no one ever tell me 1 " 
 
 She spoke the last words rather indignantly, and indeed 
 she felt she had been wronged. All poor Helen Russell's 
 expressions of romantic love for the dead lady, and her self- 
 reproachful allusions to her own folly and ingratitude, were 
 far less interesting to Alice than this one fact of her 
 mother's life, which she had been made acquainted with 
 for the first time. 
 
 That the first Mrs. Hope should have had a Sunday class 
 was certainly no strange or unnatural thing, but to Alice it 
 came like a new revelation. For the first time in her life, 
 her heart went out with yearning love towards the mother 
 she had never known. Alice had always fancied her as 
 she had seen her painted picture — a tall and queenly 
 woman, with a crown of golden hair about her head, and 
 strings of pearls adorning her neck. But now it occurred 
 to Alice that she must have put off her white satin dress 
 sometimes, and worn some homelier, softer garment — at 
 least on Sunday afternoons, when she gathered the children 
 round her. 
 
 " I used to sit next her when I was a little thins," 
 Nelly's mother went on. " There were children enough 
 about Hopefield, and the class was pretty large sometimes, 
 but my seat was always next the lady. She used to tell 
 us a story when our lessons were all done; and I used to 
 put my head down on her knee and shut my eyes — and I
 
 THE REMEMBRANCE OF OLD TIMES. 199 
 
 thought I could see the people she was speaking about. 
 There never was any one could tell stories like the lady ! " 
 
 " You were aye a great hand for stories, Helen," said 
 Mrs. Veitch, with an air of sad and respectful admiration. 
 " You were an awfu' reader, lassie ! " 
 
 " If I'd kept to her stories and the books she gave me, 
 it would have been better for me," said the daughter. " I 
 have them yet, though. I never let them go when other 
 things did. We had our class in the room downstairs, with 
 one window looking this way and the other to the front. 
 And sometimes, when the others went away, she would let 
 me stay, and read to me ; and that was the best of all ! 
 And she talked to me often, like as if she were my friend. 
 Oh, if I had minded her, it might have been different ! I 
 might have been good ! " 
 
 So she went on, the restlessness of illness and sorrow 
 upon her making her talk thus to the child. Perhaps, too, 
 the remembrance of okl times, brought back by the return 
 to her childhood's home, was made more vivid by the sight 
 of Alice, who was so like the lady she had loved. At any 
 rate, it seemed a relief to her to speak on; while Mrs. 
 Veitch sat and wondered, fearing she might excite herself, 
 but not venturing to interfere. 
 
 " That room to the left, when you go into the house — 
 with one window looking this way and the other to the 
 front — that's our schoolroom now !" said Alice, eagerly. 
 " And our mother taught her class there ! " 
 
 It was all very wonderful. Alice must needs know 
 more about it, and Nelly's mother was willing to tell her 
 all she wished. 
 
 She remembered still what Sunday lessons the children, 
 who were men and women now, used to do in the room 
 which had become Alice and Lina's schoolroom. Best of
 
 200 HOPBFIELD IN BY-GONE DAYS. 
 
 all, she remembered the lady's stories ; and how, when she 
 read the "Pilgrim's Progress," the little girl at her knee 
 always imagined the House Beautiful like the mansion 
 where her teacher lived, and was sure that no Shining One 
 who ever comforted Christian was fairer than the dear lady 
 herself. " Sometimes I used to think her rather grave and 
 quiet ; but never when she was with us, for I never saw 
 any one like children as she did. And never when she had 
 the baby in her arms — but that was afterwards." 
 
 " Was the baby me 1 " said Alice, wonderingly. 
 
 " Yes ; and we made you a sewed frock when you came 
 — me, and two of the other big girls. And your mamma 
 carried you in to see us with it on, and we all had you in our 
 arms, and kissed you. And your mamma looked as pleased 
 and proud as if it was silk and lace you had on — and 
 thanked us all, one after the other." 
 
 Alice tried hard to imagine the scene enacted in the 
 schoolroom long ago, but found it perfectly impossible to 
 realize herself a baby in a white embroidered dress, carried . 
 in by her mother, and exhibited to the Sunday class. But 
 she was well pleased to hear these reminiscences of Hope- 
 field in by-gone days, while her own little scholar, who had 
 relapsed into one of her quiet fits, lay with her brown head 
 pillowed on Alice's shoulder. So Nelly's mother went on, 
 while her pale face seemed to brighten with a reflection of 
 the happiness she told of. There was even a faint smile 
 about her lips when Alice, as she rose at last to go, came 
 up and shook hands with a politeness and respect that she 
 very seldom showed to any one. But this sad-eyed woman 
 was her mother's Sunday scholar, and therefore, as it 
 seemed to Alice, her mother's friend. And the child had 
 a curious, inexplicable feeling that she had somehow brought 
 a message from her.
 
 FELLOW-LABOURERS. 201 
 
 Alice and Lina never thought of nurse as specially con- 
 nected with their mother — she was associated with their 
 own early days, and had been with them always ; but this 
 stranger seemed to come straight from the Hopefield of 
 long ago, and remembered the words of the lady who had 
 been years in heaven as freshly as if they had been spoken 
 yesterday. And could Alice ever forget that it was she 
 who had told her the wonderful news which no one else 
 had ever thought it worth while to let her know 1 It was 
 from Nelly's mother that the children first heard that, in 
 their efforts to do good, they were unconsciously following 
 the example of her who had finished her work and gone 
 home before they were old enough to notice it. It seemed 
 that the Lord had called Alice and Lina to the very same 
 corner of the vineyard where their mother had been once ; 
 and the discovery that they were fellow-labourers, formed 
 a link between the two little ones who had just begun their 
 work below and the woman who was taking her long, long 
 rest above. 
 
 " I shall come again to see you very soon," said Alice ; 
 " and I'll bring Lina. Everybody likes her better than they 
 do me. And you'll tell us more about our mother and her 
 Sunday class, and the stories she used to tell you." 
 
 The mist turned into snow, after all, that day. The whole 
 afternoon the flakes fell thick, till the earth was in bridal 
 white again. But the little girls at Hopefield dreamed of 
 no snow-queen coming to gaze at them through the window, 
 and had no pity to spare for the maiden who was sent out, 
 shivering in her garments of paper, to seek for strawberries 
 in the wintry waste. Alice and Lina, who used to live so 
 much in a world of their own, had begun to feel a change 
 of late. It was not so much that the people in stories 
 seemed less real, as that the real people seemed to go into
 
 202 .MUTUAL CONFIDENCE. 
 
 stories. All round the children tales were unfolding for 
 them. And new heroes and heroines had come so fast of 
 late — some whose life-story seemed all about laughter, and 
 fun, and petting ; and others of whom they had to read 
 poverty and ill health, and bitter regret and weai'iness. 
 
 No wonder that, as the children told each other of their 
 separate forenoon's discoveries, the dear volumes of Grimm 
 and Hans Andersen were forgotten, and Toodlekins, for 
 once, enjoyed a long and peaceful sleep. Alice talked most, 
 for Lina could not bring herself to tell Hugh's confidences 
 unreservedly, even to her sister; besides, Alice's interest 
 in Hugh was greatly inferior to Lina's interest in Nelly's 
 mother. But Lina felt that no other story could ever make 
 her forget the bit she had heard of her cousin's, and the 
 way he told it to her. She fancied that, however careless 
 and contented he might seem to others, she at least would 
 evermore see in his face the weary look and hear in his 
 voice the bitter tone with which he had told her how 
 miserable he was. 
 
 Well, God was good, though life might be dreary. To 
 the child, just beginning to spell out for itself passages here 
 and there in the book of human history, as well as to the 
 student who has been poring over that volume for long, 
 there are some things which seem very right and beautiful, 
 and others which are confusing and incomprehensible 
 enough. And all that any of us can do is to look up from 
 the book to the Author, who knows all the beginning and 
 all the end of the life-stoi'ies we can so seldom manage to 
 read the whole of. 
 
 " Lally, did you ever think before — how nice it is — 
 Nelly's text— God is love?" 
 
 The two children were alone in the schoolroom then. It 
 was evening, and lessons were just over, and the cold and
 
 NEW REVELATIONS. 203 
 
 the snow were all shut out by window-shutters and curtains. 
 Lina was an invalid ensconced on the sofa, still in her warm 
 morning- dress, and all wrapped up in a big gray shawl. 
 And Alice, who had just finished practising, shut the piano 
 with a clap, and gathered up her music with a decisive 
 movement. 
 
 '•' The truth is, Lina — I don't know how it is — I suppose 
 we're getting old, perhaps — but I've thought twice as much 
 about everything, and I'm beginning to see sense in lots of 
 things, since we found Nelly." 
 
 Then, as if the new revelations which had been given her 
 of late included a sense of the value of her little sister. 
 Alice came round to the sofa and bent over Lina. And 
 the golden locks were mingled then, and the white dress 
 crushed against the crimson one, while the children rubbed 
 their cheeks together, and patted each other's hands — a 
 mode of caressing which was the nearest approach to an 
 embrace which their affection ever took.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A GLORIOUS PROJECT UNFOLDED. 
 
 INA'S cold turned out rather a severe one ; she 
 was invalided for several days, and yielded her- 
 self into nurse's hands very meekly. To tell the 
 truth, she rather enjoyed her little illness. Gruel was not 
 nice, to be sure; but she had no objection at all to having 
 her feet bathed, and she discovered that lying in bed with 
 a fire in one's room all day is a pleasant experience some- 
 times. Mrs. Hope bought her a new story-book, and after 
 lessons were over Alice would come and sit with her; and 
 even Charley made several raids into her room, by way of 
 cheering her up. 
 
 Sunday afternoon was perhaps the only time when she 
 felt a little dreary. Alice was busy then teaching Nelly; 
 and nurse, who had come to bear Lina company, fell asleep 
 and snored by the fireside. The new story-book was not 
 for Sunday, and Lina brooded over her disappointment in 
 missing Nelly's lessons, and imagined all that was going on 
 downstairs. Then her too lively fancy sent her off in an- 
 other direction. What if she were never to see Nelly, 
 never go down to the schoolroom any more 1 This cold of 
 hers might turn into consumption, or inflammation of the 
 lungs, or bronchitis, or asthma, and she might come to die 
 of it very soon. 
 
 She pictured the scene around her bed when all the
 
 GLOOMY VISIONS. '205 
 
 household assembled to take leave of her. Would her 
 father kiss her, she wondered; and would mamma care 
 enough to cry because Lina was dying 1 She tried to ima- 
 gine her stepmother's face with tears on it, but she could 
 not banish the saucy look of laughter from the eyes, so 
 Lina decided that the pocket-handkerchief would need to 
 conceal it all. But nurse would cry, and Fraulein — no 
 doubt about them ; though it was impossible to determine 
 how Hugh and Charley would take the loss of their little 
 cousin. And Alice — dear Lally ! perhaps she would be 
 too sorry to cry. How lonely she would be when her 
 playfellow was laid, all white and cold, in her shroud, 
 with flowers about her ! Here Lina paused to reflect 
 whether there were any white camellias in bloom in the 
 greenhouse at present, but she could not be quite sure. 
 "Well, it was to be hoped there would be some, if they 
 were needed. How strange it would be to feel herself shut 
 up in a box and carried down the avenue and away to the 
 graveyard by the river ! — how dark it would be down in 
 the cold, damp earth ! Only, to be sure, she would know 
 nothing about it all ; she would not feel the camellias, 
 though her fingers were closed round them ; she would 
 never hear the sods fall above her coffin, as they laid her 
 beside her mother. If she were a Christian, she would be 
 in heaven. The souls of believers are at their death made 
 perfect in holiness, and do immediately pass into glory, 
 says the Catechism ; but Lina could not get quit of her 
 gloomy thoughts all at once. She felt very much as if she 
 were body and not soul just then, and she hid her face 
 under the bed-clothes shuddering. 
 
 Then outside the door there came the sound of feet and 
 of a voice — Alice's voice. Nurse wakened up with a start, 
 arranged her spectacles, and stared at her Psalm-hook hard,
 
 20G IN HIGH FAVOUR. 
 
 " Yes, you shall see Miss Lina," was heard from the 
 passage; and then the door opened, and Nelly trotted in, 
 followed by Alice, looking very proud and pleased. Up 
 started Lina from under the bed-clothes, and all her gloomy 
 visions fled away. Nurse, who had succeeded in persuad- 
 ing herself that she had been wide-awake and busy read- 
 ing all afternoon, looked up benevolently at the new- 
 comers. 
 
 " Miss Lally, my dear, you shouldn't bring that bairn 
 here." 
 
 But Alice knew perfectly that nurse was not at all 
 displeased : these words, " Miss Lally, my dear," being 
 interpreted, meant that the old woman was in the very 
 best of humours. First, there was miss, a title of respect 
 not always accorded by nurse ; then Lally, Lina's name for 
 Alice, and a remembrance of baby days ; finally, " my 
 dear " (spoken slowly, with a slight emphasis on the pro- 
 noun), a term of endearment and complacency, showing 
 that the object of it was in high favour at the present 
 time. 
 
 " Oh yes, nurse. Let her stay a minute or two, and we'll 
 let you hear something." 
 
 " An' if it's hooping-cough Lina's got — " 
 
 " I've got nothing, nurse. I feel all right now, as well 
 as I ever did in my life," cried Lina, utterly forgetting that 
 she had been planning her own death and funeral a minute 
 before. " Here, put Nelly up on the bed, will you, Lai 1 
 Has she been good 1 " 
 
 " A stunner," said the other Sunday-school teacher, who 
 showed a marvellous aptitude for learning words and phrases 
 from her boy-cousins. But this one might have been Ger- 
 man, for all the effect it had on nurse and Nelly. Lina 
 looked rather apprehensively from the one to the other ;
 
 A PROOF OF NELLY'S AFFECTION. 207 
 
 but both seemed pleased, though grave, and were evidently 
 quite unconscious of the slang. 
 
 " And was Hugh there 1 " 
 
 " No ; didn't come. Don't know where he was at all," 
 said Alice, shaking her head. " He'll likely have tired of 
 coming." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad," Lina said, after a pause. And so she 
 was, but not so glad as she would have expected to be once 
 on a time. 
 
 " Are you glad to see Miss Lina, Nelly 1 " 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 " And do you remember what you said you would do if 
 I brought you upstairs'?" 
 
 " I said I wad sing." 
 
 " Good girl ! Then begin." 
 
 " Where div you sleep, Miss Hope 1 " asked Nelly, who 
 had been studying the arrangements of the chamber mean- 
 while. 
 
 " In this room too. Come now, begin." 
 
 " I'll stay an' sleep wi' you," said Nelly caressingly. 
 
 Alice looked at her sister in dismay. Nelly evidently 
 meant to give a proof of her affection, and how could any 
 one be so cruel as to check this tender outburst 1 
 
 But Lina roused herself, and set matters right by an 
 appeal in another quarter. " And would you leave your 
 grandmother to sleep alone 1 Oh, Nelly, that wouldn't be 
 kind ! You'll sing to me just now, and then you'll get 
 your tea downstairs, and go away home with grandma, and 
 you'll come and see us again next Sabbath. Won't that 
 be a nice way 1 " 
 
 "Yes; that's it," said Alice, relieved. "Come now, 
 Nelly; begin, and sing loud. The Lord's my Shepherd- 
 Perched on the end of the 1 >o«l. in the shadow of the
 
 208 THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM. 
 
 dimity curtains, the little damsel composed herself, placed 
 her closed fists in her lap, and began, — " ' The Lord's my 
 Shepherd, I'll not want ' — " 
 
 But there the shrill, childish voice stopped altogether. 
 After a moment's waiting-time of annoyance on the part of 
 the little teachers, Lina began trying to prompt in an under- 
 tone. " ' He makes ' — go on, dear — you know it. ' He 
 makes me down — he makes me down to lie.' " 
 
 " I canna sing without a book," said Nelly audaciously. 
 
 Alice exclaimed indignantly that Nelly never had a book 
 — that she never needed a book ; while Lina felt almost 
 ready to cry with vexation and shame. It was terrible 
 that their pupil should behave thus, just when they wanted 
 her to show to advantage. What would nurse think of 
 such conduct 1 
 
 But, lo ! nurse rose and crossed to the bed with the pre- 
 cious black volume in her hands. " There, my dear," she 
 said ; and she actually found the Twenty-third Psalm, and 
 gave the book to Nelly. " There, my dear. Sing you 
 away pretty now." 
 
 And Nelly took the Psalm-book in both hands, and held 
 it close to her face, staring at it with wide-open eyes 
 solemnly. She sang on bravely this time, keeping the 
 tune wonderfully well, though she made strange things 
 out of the words occasionally. 
 
 Her audience was not disposed to be critical, however. 
 Alice and Lina listened in great delight, which was only 
 marred by a feeling on Alice's part that it was spoiling 
 Nelly thus to humour her fancy about a book. And as for 
 nurse, as Mrs. Hope had foretold, she was greatly pleased, 
 and not at all disposed to speculate whether the child 
 understood what she was singing or not. " That's a fine 
 lassie." said the old woman approvingly. " Come here to me."
 
 WINNING NURSE'S FAVOUR. 209 
 
 Nurse had returned to her seat by the fire, and Nelly 
 slipped slowly off the bed and went away to her, to receive 
 the handful of peppermints she had fished out of her capa- 
 cious pocket. Both Nelly's little palms could scarcely con- 
 tain her spoils, and at first her pleasure overcame her 
 politeness ; but when she was half-way on her journey 
 back, some good angel prompted her to turn and say, 
 " Thank you, mem." 
 
 Then Nelly put the finishing stroke to the success she 
 had achieved in winning nurse's favour, by flinging herself 
 back on the bed in an outburst of delight — " Miss Lina ! 
 Miss Lina ! here's somefin' for you." She seemed to think 
 she had brought a medicine which would be sure to do the 
 ] Kitient good ; and so indeed she had. For whatever effect 
 the sweetmeats had, her little pupil's generosity revived 
 Lina wonderfully. She laughed till she nearly cried over 
 the treasures emptied out before her on the coverlet, and 
 kissed the little brown hands which lavished them. And 
 then she roused herself up to help Nelly to divide her 
 stores ; for, in spite of the little Thing's entreaties, Lina 
 would not do more than taste them herself. 
 
 One peppermint for Miss Tina, one for Miss Hope, and 
 one for nurse, who had been so kind in giving them ; then 
 two to take home to mother and grandma, and the rest 
 for Nelly's own self, — such was Lina's arrangement. 
 
 But to the last part of this Nelly would not agree : if 
 the Miss Hopes would take no more, she had plans of bene- 
 fiting the kitchen tea-party; and when she and her lozenges 
 went away downstairs together, it seemed doubtful if any 
 of nurse's gift would reach the mouth it was originally 
 intended for. 
 
 Lina was entirely cheered up for that night, and felt 
 greatly better. And next day was a white day, — a most 
 (564) 1 4
 
 210 A DAY IN THE DRAWING-ROOM. 
 
 remarkable Monday in the little girl's life ; for after she 
 had breakfast in bed, Mrs. Hope got her dressed, in spite 
 of nurse's remonstrances, and took her into the drawing- 
 room. Here, then, Lina lay in state all forenoon, with a 
 gorgeous sofa-blanket — one of her stepmother's wedding 
 presents — spread over her, and a delicious little round table 
 by her side with her work-box and books upon it. It was, 
 to be sure, a little drawback to ber pleasure- to hear Miss 
 Harvey ask in an audible whisper how long that child was 
 going to stay; but then Alice and Lina never expected 
 Miss Harvey to be agreeable, and mamma certainly did 
 not seem at all anxious to get quit of her daughter. She 
 brought her work, and came and sat down close by the sofa 
 where Lina lay, taking a share of the table for her silks 
 and wools ; and the only sign she gave that her friend's 
 whisper had reached her ears Avas by asking, " Shall we 
 disturb your letter-writing by our talk, Maggie 1 " 
 
 "Oh dear no!" was the energetic reply. "I'm accus- 
 tomed to do all my writing in a perfect Babel of tongues 
 at home. I've got quite used to it, and have given up re- 
 monstrating about it now. Papa and mamma will have 
 such crowds of children about; and it gets worse and worse 
 every year. There Emily has seven now, and Grace five, 
 and all those spoilt brats of Indian children come to us con- 
 stantly besides. Don't pity Lottie Ashley, I say to every 
 one; pity me rather! No one knows what it is to be an 
 aunt, except by experience. I declai-e, I positively dread 
 the Christmas-time." 
 
 " Stay here, then, my dear, and avoid it. I'll ensure you 
 a measure of peace and quietness." 
 
 " I wish I could ; but it's impossible. The whole clan 
 would be furious if I didn't appear at the gathering. And 
 it's more important than usual this year, with the Indian
 
 TALK ABOUT CHRISTMAS. 211 
 
 people being home. You change your mind, rather, after 
 all, Lottie, and come; I'd like you to see John's wife. 
 Come, and bring that lazy husband of youus with you." 
 
 Lina positively trembled for the effect of this appeal on 
 her stepmother ; but Mrs. Hope only laughed, and shook 
 her head. The ground had evidently all been gone over 
 befoi-e, for Miss Harvey used no more arguments. 
 
 " You won't ! Well, you always were a positive monkey ; 
 but I believe you'll be horribly dull here, my child. Did 
 you ever hear the account of Molly Brunton's Christmas in 
 the Highlands 1" 
 
 Miss, Harvey's stories and bits of gossip about her enor- 
 mous circle of relations and friends were apparently endless; 
 but, happily for Lina, before she had got very far in her tale of 
 Miss Brunton, who was snowed-up at her father's shooting- 
 lod^e, she remembered she had at least half-a-dozen letters 
 to write before post-time. Her voice ceased, therefore, and 
 her pen began to fly over the paper with astonishing velo- 
 city ; while Mrs. Hope turned to Lina to say, " Do you 
 think we'll have a dull Christmas at Hopefield 1 " 
 
 " Not if you're here, mamma," was the answer, very 
 warmly spoken. " I mean, Christmas is always nice, but 
 when we've you it'll be nicer than ever." 
 
 " We must have some fun, mustn't we 1 What shall we 
 do ] What do you generally do ] " 
 
 " Oh, lots of jolly things. We give presents ; and nurse 
 makes us a cake ; and we've holidays; and we put some ever- 
 greens up in the schoolroom. Lally and I began working 
 at our presents a while ago; and I mean to get on ever so 
 much to-day, because I've no lessons, and no going out, and 
 the person I'm doing this for will never come here ; so I 
 needn't be afraid of her finding out. The drawing-room is 
 the only place to be safe from nurse, and this apron is for
 
 212 TALK ABOUT CHRISTMAS. 
 
 her. Look here, mamma ; don't you think 1 might get it 
 finished to-day 1 " And Lina spread out the piece of thick 
 muslin she was working on, and looked at her stepmother 
 inquiringly. 
 
 " I don't think you should tire yourself, at any rate, 
 dear." 
 
 " Oh but, mamma, there's very little work here. Now, 
 Alice is doing a great deal more ; she's knitting a pair of 
 muffatees ; that takes longer than crochet ones. Only nurse 
 is about the most important person we have, — I mean, we 
 always try to give her something particularly good." 
 
 " That's very judicious of you, especially when she 
 makes the cake. I suppose the quality of your gift has 
 some influence on the quantity of currants and raisins she 
 puts in." 
 
 " It's generally gingerbread," said Lina, innocently. 
 " Nurse thinks Christmas bun isn't good for people. I 
 hope she'll make a big cake this year, thoiigh, for Charley 
 makes a great difference in things of that sort. Can you 
 give us any advice about presents for Hugh and Chai'ley, 
 mamma 1 Boys are so difficult to provide for, and we 
 haven't very much money, you know ! " 
 
 The grave look of care and responsibility on Lina's face 
 rather tickled Mrs. Hope's fancy, but she maintained a 
 praiseworthy gravity. 
 
 " Suppose we all go into town for a day's shopping — next 
 week, perhaps — and see what we can see." 
 
 " mamma ! " 
 
 " Then the shops will be full of Christmas things, and 
 we'll look about for provision for the boys. Do you think 
 that a good idea 1 " 
 
 " Oh, glorious ! We never went to town shopping in 
 our lives, mamma."
 
 A NEW PLEASURE FOR THE CHILDREN. 213 
 
 " Well, it's never too late to mend. Then, a day's shop- 
 ping, to begin with, — and what else shall we do for fun 1 " 
 
 " Do you think, perhaps, we might have Nelly to tea on 
 Christmas Eve % " 
 
 " My dear child, your notions of hospitality and benevo- 
 lence seem bounded by Nelly entirely. She turns up on 
 every occasion." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Tina, crestfallen, "if you 
 don't like it—" 
 
 " Nonsense, dear; I do like it, if you and Alice do. You 
 shall have your protegee by all means." 
 
 " No, but I never thought of it till just now," said Lina, 
 earnestly. " Alice doesn't know, and so she won't be dis- 
 appointed ; and I would much rather not have it if you 
 have any objections, mamma. Only I thought it would be 
 nice for Nelly to have some of nurse's cake, and some 
 bread and jam; and afterwards Fraulein would play her 
 some tunes. She's so fond of music." 
 
 " We shall certainly have Nelly, then ; but why not 
 some more 1 Why not have the rest of the children about 
 the place, and make a regular party 1 Did you ever get up 
 a Christmas-tree ? " 
 
 Lina's astonishment and ecstasy at this idea prevented 
 her speaking ; but Miss Harvey, who had apparently heard 
 at least the last words of the conversation, turned round 
 from her wi'iting and joined in : — 
 
 "Don't, Lottie, on any account. You've no idea what 
 a botheration it is. I did it once, and I solemnly said 
 nothing in the world would ever make me do it again. Let 
 Christmas-trees alone, if you're wise, my dear, and charity- 
 parties too. They don't pay in the long run." 
 
 " A Christmas-tree is not at all a bad thing when there 
 arc children to be amused," said Mrs. Hope. " These two
 
 214 
 
 SPEECHLESS WITH GLADNESS. 
 
 benighted daughters of mine have never seen, one it seems. 
 
 When I was little I came in for two or three every year 
 
 dissipated little wretch that I was ! Well, we can't quite 
 fix it just now, Lina, but we shall see what we can do. 
 And we shall certainly make an excursion to town to buy 
 presents ; so get rid of your cold as fast as you can, and be 
 able to enjoy yourself. Christmas comes but once a year, 
 as the cards say." 
 
 Of course, Lina was eager to report the delightful news 
 to Alice, who came up presently to pay her a visit. And 
 the effect of the information was to make that usually vol- 
 uble young person speechless with gladness, and to procure 
 for her stepmother a bear-like hug, which must have been 
 anything but pleasant. And as Mrs. Hope did not then 
 and there protest that there was nothing quite settled about 
 the Christmas-tree, I am inclined to think that her oppor- 
 tunity of doing so passed away for ever. At any rate, it 
 was assumed from that time that a Christmas-tree there 
 was to be, and the sooner preparations were begun the 
 better. 
 
 Lina remained in the drawing-room all forenoon and 
 afternoon, dispensing presents and decking Christmas-trees 
 in dreamland, while she finished nurse's apron. It was 
 nearly six o'clock when Mrs. Hope wrapped her up, head 
 and all, in a big woollen shawl, and took her downstairs. 
 Nice as it had been in the drawing-room, Lina felt it 
 pleasant to return, as it were, to her own country, and 
 hear German spoken round her again. 
 
 Friiulein and Alice received her joyfully. Tea was already 
 set, and when Lina appeared the last of the lesson-books 
 were huddled out of sight hastily, and the sofa was wheeled 
 up to the fire for her. Alice made a great pile of butter- 
 toast in honour of her sister's recovery, but with special
 
 UNUSUAL CONSIDERATION. 215 
 
 consideration for her own and Charley's tastes. And pre- 
 sently the two boys appeared, both glad to see their cousin 
 down again, though Hugh only showed it by a quiet smile 
 and nod. Lina had tea on the sofa, and Charley and Alice, 
 the most attentive waiters possible, kept up a continual 
 traffic between her and the table. 
 
 " Sugar enough, Lina 1 " 
 
 " Oh yes," said Lina, who was accustomed to drink her 
 tea as Fraulein gave it to her, and was rather embarrass3d 
 by this unusual consideration. 
 
 " I don't think so. I'm sure you haven't, — much better 
 take another lump." And Charley brought the sugar-basin 
 from the table, and having put one lump into Lina's cup, 
 put two into his own mouth. 
 
 " I think your tea looks rather brown," said Alice, peer- 
 ing into it with an interested face. " Cream-pot, please, 
 Fraulein." 
 
 " And a butterier piece of toast take, Lina. That one's 
 dry." 
 
 As Charley came with the plate of toast, Alice followed 
 with a slice of bread on a knife in one hand, and a pot of 
 jam in the other. 
 
 " Perhaps you would rather have some of this, — or would 
 you have a biscuit 1 " 
 
 " Or a piece of bread and butter, Lina 1 " 
 
 " Or bread and butter and sugar ] " 
 
 " I'll tell you a good thing : dip a piece of bread in the 
 cream, and roll it in the sugar. I'm sure you would like 
 that." 
 
 "No, please," persisted Lina, much touched, but half 
 laughing nevertheless. " Do sit down and take your own 
 tea. I've got lots here — and I've some news for you." 
 
 Thus reminded of her great expectations for Christinas-
 
 216 CONCERNING THE CHRISTMAS-TREE. 
 
 time, Alice plumped down on her chair, and clasped her 
 hands with an expression of ecstasy on her countenance 
 that convinced Charley that something of importance was 
 about to be revealed. Fraulein looked round on the chil- 
 dren with benevolent interest; and Hugh's eyes left the 
 book which always lay beside his plate at tea-time. Then 
 said Lina hastily, — 
 
 " Mamma says — we're going to have a Christmas-tree !" 
 
 Lina made her communication with shining eyes and 
 trembling voice ; then she and Alice watched and waited 
 eagei-ly to see what effect it would produce. With Frau- 
 lein and Charley the result was all that could be desired. 
 The latter uttered a loud and joyful whoop, and stood on 
 his head on the spot ; and Fraulein, as soon as she could 
 be heard, remarked in tones of deep approval, " That is 
 beautiful ; that is German," — the two adjectives being 
 equivalent in her estimation. But Hugh neither smiled 
 nor spoke. For a little Lina was not without hope that 
 he would do one or the other, for he turned away from his 
 book, and ate a piece of bread and butter slowly, and, as 
 it were, meditatively. But presently he yielded himself 
 up once more to " Guy Mannering," and seemed perfectly 
 unconscious of the j ubilation going on around him. 
 
 " In Germany," said Fraulein, when the noise had some- 
 what subsided, — " in Germany, every one has a Christmas- 
 tree. No family so poor but they light the tree on Christ- 
 mas Eve; and the children gather round it to sing Lieder 
 about the Holy Child who was born that night at Bethlehem. 
 One week the tree stands, and on New- Year's Eve it is 
 lighted again, and the things taken off." 
 
 " But we're not going to have it in that sort of a way," 
 said Alice. " "We'll have a regular blaze, and burn up all 
 the candles, and have the presents off on one night ! And
 
 DIVIDED IN OPINION. 217 
 
 very likely it won't be Christmas night at all. We don't 
 like keeping Christmas in Scotland." 
 
 Fraulein appeared shocked and saddened by this speech 
 of Alice's, but as it was all made in English, she was afraid 
 to answer until she had pondered it well in her own mind. 
 
 Meanwhile Charley asked impatiently, "What is it? 
 What does Fraulein say 1 " 
 
 " Oh, botheration," said Alice, " why can't you under- 
 stand? It's only some German nonsense about not un- 
 deckinc: the tree for a week." 
 
 " And not take off our presents ? Beastly idea ! Is she 
 mad, do you think ? " 
 
 " But I think it is rather nice," said Lini, sitting up on 
 the sofa with eager eyes and flushed cheeks, for she had 
 guessed from Friiulein's face that she perfectly understood 
 the drift of Alice and Charley's remarks. " It seems such 
 a pity to work away for ever so long to make the tree look 
 pretty only for a minute or two, and then pull off all the 
 things ! After all, it does seem that ! I would like to 
 keep it for a week, and think of the Tree of Life with all 
 manner of fruits. Oh yes, I think that is a very pretty 
 way ! " 
 
 " And not let Nelly have her presents for a week, or the 
 other children, or ourselves ? Thank you very much, Lina ; 
 we'll have none of that ! " 
 
 " But in Germany they don't put the big, particular 
 presents on the tree — only little ornaments; the others go 
 on tables or somewhere." 
 
 " Then what's the good of a tree at all 1 " 
 
 " Oh, to look pretty, and to make you remember — " 
 
 " What do you want to remember [ " 
 
 Lina, thus pressed, and seeing that no assistance was to 
 be expected from Fraulein, could only blush scarlet, and
 
 218 AN UNSETTLED SUBJECT. 
 
 murmur something about "Jesus Christ's birthday," and 
 " being good," which Alice treated remorselessly. 
 
 " I don't believe it is Jesus Christ's birthday. Nurse 
 says it's not. Nurse thinks it wrong to keep Christmas. 
 You know well enough she never gives us our presents till 
 New-Year's Day. And if you're not good any way, a 
 Christmas-tree won't make you good. You're surely not 
 so silly as to think it will." 
 
 " No ; but still, Lally— " 
 
 " Nonsense ! I'm sure mamma never meant such non- 
 sense. We don't want any German Christmas-trees in 
 Scotland, — do we, Charley 1 " 
 
 " No ! " said Charley stoutly, though in truth he had not 
 been listening to the discussion, having found it more in- 
 teresting to try and rouse Toodlekins up into some of the 
 vivacity of her kittenhood, which she was fast leaving be- 
 hind her. " This is an awfully lazy old cat, Jemima. She 
 does nothing but purr and sleep." 
 
 " Don't you keep on poking at her," said Hugh, with 
 whom Toodlekins was a particular favourite. " Give her 
 here to me — she makes a nice muff ; and now you are not 
 to go on making such a horrid row if you stay here, re- 
 member." 
 
 " Well, then, I'm off upstairs." 
 
 " All right ; go." 
 
 " And I'm going too," added Alice. 
 
 To which Hugh rejoined, " Best thing you can do ! " 
 
 Then Lina turned round to her governess, and spoke 
 coaxingly in German, while she tried to read in her face 
 whether her feelings were much hurt or not. " Please, 
 Fr'aulein, do come and sit beside me, and tell me all about 
 the German trees. And then I would so like if you would 
 sing me some hymns."
 
 MAKING THE HOBGOBLIN. 219 
 
 So, when the schoolroom was cleared, and Hugh quietly 
 established on the rug with Toodlekins in his lap, Fraulein 
 very willingly sat down beside her pet pupil, and discoursed 
 upon the customs of her Fatherland. And Lina, who hud 
 taken the part she did only because she thought Fraulein 
 was being unfairly treated, grew interested now in the 
 religious question of Christmas-keeping for the first time. 
 And to the mind of the little girl, as to that of the woman 
 by her side, it seemed right and fitting that our joyous days 
 should be linked with the memory of that glorious birth, 
 through which alone we have a right to any joy in this 
 sin-stricken world. Surely, too, while giving each other 
 presents, it was a time to think with special thankfulness 
 of the unspeakable gift of God. 
 
 Meanwhile, up in the nursery, Alice and Charley were 
 busy with paint and pasteboard making a hideous hob- 
 goblin face, with which they hoped to alarm the general 
 public by-and-by. But Alice's brush moved rather slowly, 
 and her joy in the grotesque ugliness of their work was far 
 inferior to Charley's. Suddenly she stopped short, and 
 asked abruptly, " Was I nasty to Fraulein just now 1 " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," was the careless answer. "Now, 
 red — bright red for the middle of the eyes. Yery likely 
 you were nasty; you very often are, Jemima." 
 
 "To Fraulein?" said Alice, staring at him with an 
 expression of utter dismay, which might have moved pity 
 in some hearts, but had no effect on Charley's. 
 
 "Dear me! yes. Well, what does it matter 1 She's a 
 stupid creature, that can't speak English." 
 
 " But she's good, and I like her. You shan't call her 
 stupid, Charley ; I don't believe she is, though she does 
 say stupid things. Wc couldn't have our Christmas-tree 
 that way."
 
 220 STINGS OF CONSCIENCE. 
 
 " Of course we couldn't leave the things up for a week; 
 rather not." 
 
 " Why was it nasty of me, then, to say so 1 " 
 
 " You see, Jemima," replied Charley with great com- 
 posure, "you do storm, and rage, and bluster so about 
 things. That's what Hugh says about you, and that's why 
 he doesn't like you." 
 
 Alice cared not a whit for Hugh's feelings towards her, 
 but she was by no means equally indifferent to the charge 
 of " storming and blustering " at her governess. She was 
 nasty to Fraulein often, Charley said. And though 
 Fraulein did think Germany a nicer country than Scotland, 
 and though she did look very ugly when she had " tic " and 
 red flannel, still she had been very good and kind of late. 
 Had she not made Nelly's red hood, and cut out her doll's 
 clothes, and given her teachers reward-cards for her 1 And 
 could Alice ever forget how, on that sad night when she 
 felt that she had utterly failed in her work, Fraulein had 
 gathered her in her arms, and, with brave, loving words, 
 bade her take heart and begin again 1 
 
 " Charley, I'm sorry I was nasty to Fraulein, and 
 stormed and raged and blustered at her," said Alice, after 
 a little. 
 
 " Tuts ! what does it matter now 1 I'll make you the 
 hobgoblin ; and if it does well, and frightens people, we'll 
 keep it to frighten the children on the Christmas-tree 
 night." 
 
 Alice could not forbear looking pleased at this delightful 
 prospect ; but she was very soon grave again. 
 
 " Was I nasty to Lina too 1 " she asked, not appealingly, 
 but in her own abrupt, straightforward way. 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know; but I know that this is the 
 very jolliest hobgoblin I ever made. No ; wait a hit ; ho
 
 CATCHING ALARM. 221 
 
 isn't quite dry yet. I'll rig you up immediately ; but the 
 mask must go at the head of the stick." 
 
 " Charley, perhaps it would really help Lina to be good 
 to keep Christmas." 
 
 " Of course, eveiy one ought to keep Christmas, and 
 have holly up in the churches, and plum-pudding to 
 dinner. I do hope you do that ; it's very wrong not to. 
 But I don't think Lina needs being made good. She's quite 
 good enough already." 
 
 " Nobody's really good in this world," said Alice, 
 solemnly. 
 
 " Lina is. She's too good. Perhaps she's going to 
 die — " Then catching sight of the horror in Alice's eyes, 
 he had the grace to add, " I hope not, though." 
 
 "I must die, if she does," said Alice, through her set 
 teeth. " God knows I couldn't live if Lina were to die. 
 Do you think she's very ill just now?" she added sud- 
 denly, her voice quivering. 
 
 " Oh no ; I think she'll get round — she's a great deal 
 better to-night. But if you've been nasty to her you'd 
 better make it up, I think, in case anything were to 
 happen." 
 
 Charley was quite conscious of the pleasure of having 
 Alice hang on his words with eager docility ; but he was 
 really speaking in perfect good faith, and without any idea 
 of being unkind. When she broke away from him, and 
 rushed off to the door, he called after her in surprise, 
 " Hallo ! hold hard. Where are you off to, Jemima 1 " 
 So he caught her, and gave her a broom to hold above her 
 head ; and then, with intense satisfaction, he draped her 
 and the stick with long dark cloaks, talking in a patroniz- 
 ing, fatherly fashion the while. 
 
 "Be quick, be quick !" said Alice at last, impatiently;
 
 222 THE HOBGOBLIN ALL RIGHT. 
 
 and as she stamped her foot, the goblin face, which was 
 only in the process of being attached to the stick, fell off 
 and down on the floor. 
 
 " There, now ! there you are again ! I wonder what 
 would make you a good girl, Alice," said Charley then, 
 with reproachful gravity. " Steady, now ! " 
 
 " Charley, be quick ! " 
 
 " The more hurry the less speed, Jemima. Now, take 
 care ; don't move a bit. There goes — that's splendid. 
 Oh, my eye ! ain't you horrible ! " 
 
 "Am II That's jolly," said Alice, well pleased, as 
 Charley walked backwards in delighted admiration of her 
 appearance. " Shall we go down now % " 
 
 " This minute. Shake yourself a little, to see if you're 
 quite firm. That way. You don't feel as if you were 
 going to pieces, do you 1 " 
 
 "No, not a bit. But I can't see. How am I to 
 walk 1 " 
 
 " Never mind ; I'll lead you ; stick out a paw. Now, if 
 we meet any one on the way, I'll let you go, and hide, and 
 you'll stand still and frighten them." 
 
 "All right. Now then, Charley." 
 
 Fraulein had passed from general descriptions of Christ- 
 mas-trees to instructions of the mos^ particular kind, — 
 about how to cut out paper ornaments for hanging on the 
 branches, &c, — when there came three loud thundering 
 knocks at the schoolroom door. Then there entered, at a 
 slow solemn pace, a dark-robed figure of unearthly height, 
 with a strange red and black face peering out from under 
 a monkish-looking hood. Lina shrieked out immediately, 
 and clutched Fraulein with both hands ; but her screams 
 had passed into somewhat hysterical laughter before any 
 one had time to reassure her. Fraulein seemed amused.
 
 A SURPRISE, AND ITS SUCCESS. 
 
 223 
 
 too, and inclined to take the matter pleasantly ; but Hugh 
 flung down his book in a rage. 
 
 " Charley, you are an incorrigible ass ! " he exclaimed 
 wrathfully. 
 
 Hugh had been, for the last half-hour, in imagination 
 Harry Bertram following Meg Merrilees ; and the moment 
 when he was just entering the smugglers' cave was an 
 unfavourable one for his brother's practical joke. To be 
 wrenched suddenly out of the middle of a story was hate- 
 ful to Hugh, as to all book-lovers ; but with him the re- 
 turn to real life had a peculiar bitterness. "When Charley 
 flung the door open wide to usher in his hobgoblin, and 
 Lina screamed and laughed, they awoke Hugh to the con- 
 sciousness that he was no handsome, athletic soldier, but a 
 puny deformed boy, who never could be manly. 
 
 He turned away from them all with a bitter look on his 
 face, aiid would have nothing to do with the fun. The 
 children were provoked ; and even Fraulein wondei'ed that 
 any one could be so utterly and persistently disagi^eeable. 
 Only the Lord, who seeth not as man seeth, looked in pity 
 upon Hugh, well knowing that the poor child's sorrow was 
 made all the heavier by the very pride which seemed in 
 human eyes to help him to carry the burden. 
 
 Meanwhile, after the first sm-prise was over, Charley 
 came into the room to be complimented on the success of 
 his efforts. 
 
 "Did you ever see anything so horrible in Germany, 
 Fraulein?" he asked in triumph. 
 
 It was hoped of course that Frauleia would say No; but 
 even when Lina had translated the question, the sense 
 seemed too equivocal for her to give any other reply than 
 — " But how do you mean 1 " ami a laugh. 
 
 Then Charley made his hobgoblin stand in the middle
 
 224 WHAT THE HOBGOBLIN SAID. 
 
 of the floor, turn round and round, and exhibit its terrors 
 from every point of view. After that, he ordered it to 
 make a bow, which the docile creature accordingly did. 
 
 " That's first-rate. Now, give a paw, and come off to 
 the kitchen." 
 
 But the creature turned away from its keeper, and 
 staggered along, not in the direction of the fire, as it pro- 
 bably intended, but away towards the window. " Oh, 
 take care where you're going," cried Lina. "When she 
 spoke these words the hobgoblin stopped and wheeled 
 round again, then stood still rather helplessly ; and Alice's 
 voice came out from about the middle of its body. 
 
 " Friiulein and Lina," it said, " if mamma doesn't mind, 
 have the Christmas-tree just as you like ! " 
 
 In spite of the abruptness of the announcement, Lina's 
 sisterly instinct and loving heart understood the situation 
 at once. " O Lally, I like it as you like it," she cried, and 
 was off the sofa to hug her sister. But as she ran to Alice 
 with arms outstretched, Charley sprang between them. 
 
 "Hands off! hands off, I say! Don't touch my hob- 
 goblin ! You'll pull it in pieces if you do." 
 
 If Lina had ever heard that there is but a step between 
 the sublime and the ridiculous, she would have understood 
 it then. The depths of her heart had been stirred by 
 Alice's generosity and penitence, but now the absurdity of 
 the scene was too much for her. She had felt ready to 
 cry for sympathy, and now she fairly sank down on the 
 floor with laughter. Friiulein and Charley joined in her 
 merriment, and the effect was all the funnier because the 
 poor hobgoblin was perfectly unable to perceive the joke. 
 It was some time before Lina could recover composure 
 enough to reply to the indignant inquiries which came out 
 from under the waterproofs. " What are you laughing
 
 HOW THE EVENING ENDED. 225 
 
 at ? " said poor Alice. " I do wish you would stop. Oh, 
 it's awfully stuffy in here, and hot about my face ! " 
 
 " I should think so," said Hugh. " Why were you such 
 a fool as to let yourself be done up that way 1 " 
 
 His snappish words had the effect of somewhat sobering 
 the rest; and Lina managed to gasp out, " O Lally, you're 
 good ! But you are so funny. I was going to kiss you, 
 and you're a hobgoblin ! " 
 
 Alice would fain have been herself again, but Charley 
 insisted on her going first to make a tour through the 
 house with him. Perhaps it was the first time in her 
 life that she had joined in play for any one's pleasure 
 but her own, and the exercise of self-denial was doubtless 
 salutary. 
 
 The alarm spread by his hobgoblin was not so great 
 as Charley had hoped ; but everybody laughed, and some 
 people were rather startled at first. And the evening 
 in the schoolroom finished very peacefully after all : for 
 Charley fell fast asleep on the rug after his labours, with 
 his head pillowed on the open book which Hugh had never 
 cared to pick up; and while Hugh, on the sofa, lay staring 
 into the fire as if he saw tilings unutterable there, the little 
 girls and Fraulein played and sang Christmas hymns. 
 
 li>
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MORE OF HELEN RUSSELL'S LIFE-STORY. 
 
 flFTEB. that there was, for a time, very little spoken 
 of in the Hopefield schoolroom but the Christmas- 
 tree. The question about the arrangement of 
 the affair was referred to Mrs. Hope; who declared that 
 though the whole idea was doubtless a German one, and 
 ought to be carried out, as far as possible, in German 
 fashion, still there were circumstances in the present case 
 which would make such a course unadvisable. Their 
 Christmas-tree would have to be an Anglified one; the 
 guests would expect to see the branches despoiled, and 
 carry away their own share of the booty with them when 
 they departed. The whole festivities must be got over on 
 one evening. 
 
 Both little girls were relieved by this decision; for 
 though they had now shifted their ground, matters had not 
 been much mended between them. Each had been urging 
 the other so eagerly to take her own way, that the second 
 dispute threatened to be more serious than the first. But 
 now mamma's decision set everything to rights ; even 
 Fraulein acquiesced willingly enough, — and Charley was, 
 of course, highly delighted. 
 
 Lina made a rapid recovery, and it was finally settled 
 that the expedition to town should be made on the Wed- 
 nesday of the following week. Mrs. Hope was to take
 
 WHO SENDS THE NASTY THINGS 1 227 
 
 both the little girls with her ; and the children heard with 
 undisguised pleasure that they were to escort Miss Har- 
 vey so far on her journey southward, as she was to be 
 among her own people before Christmas-time. 
 
 When Nelly came on Sunday afternoon, her teachers 
 found it very hard to keep from telling her of the pleasures 
 which were being prepared for her ; and an atmosphere of 
 subdued excitement pervaded all their instructions. Lina 
 told again the story of the manger with renewed zest — 
 though Alice looked grave the while, as if considering that 
 Scotch people and Presbyterians ought at this season to 
 think and say as little as possible about the birth of the 
 Saviour. Only, as Lina was considerate enough of her 
 sister's feelings to say nothing at all of Christmas as a reli- 
 gious festival, Alice felt that some forbearance was due 
 upon her side, and let the tale pass without interruption. 
 She only shook her head when Lina added at the end, 
 eagerly, and, as it must have seemed to her little pupil, 
 somewhat irrelevantly — " And it's Jesus Christ who gives 
 us all our presents ! We never get any presents, or any 
 nice things, but he sends them." 
 
 " And what about the nasty things i " Hugh asked then. 
 " Who sends them ?" 
 
 " Jesus Christ," answered Lina, flushing but never fal- 
 tering. " Nasty things too — he sends them all ! " 
 
 " Such as Miss Harvey?" 
 
 What reply Lina would have given to this cunning ques- 
 tion must remain for ever doubtful, for Alice broke in with 
 an indignant reminder to Hmrh that lie had broken his 
 promise, and therefore forfeited his place. He had inter- 
 rupted Nelly's lesson ; he must go out of the schoolroom 
 immediately. 
 
 "What! after all these Sundays when ['ve been as dumb
 
 228 Hugh's sin, and its punishment. 
 
 as a post, you turn me off for one little question, just as I 
 was beginning a new chapter 1 ?" 
 
 " You promised never to speak ! " 
 
 " And I never will again, if you'll only let me sit in 
 peace on the most comfortable sofa in the house." 
 
 But Alice was implacable, declaring that Hugh ought 
 to have thought of the consequences before he sinned • the 
 evil was done now, and he must suffer for it. Hugh 
 remonstrated and laughed ; but finally, to his cousin's 
 astonishment, he did gather himself up. " Shall I go, 
 Lina 1 ?" 
 
 " Yes, please." 
 
 " Well, it's very shabby of you, I think. I'm off then — 
 for to-day." 
 
 There was silence in the schoolroom for a few moments 
 after the door had closed on Hugh — a silence which was 
 broken at last by Alice making the somewhat singular 
 statement, that she never would have ordered her cousin 
 out if she had known he would go when he was told. 
 
 " It's a very cosy sofa," she added, rather remorsefully. 
 " But never mind ; he'll come back all right next Sunday. 
 You know he wasn't here last time, and he came back 
 to-day." 
 
 Lina looked distressed and perplexed, but it was her own 
 part in the matter which was occupying her mind. She 
 quite understood how, though Alice had been earnest in 
 her determination to get Hugh away, she had turned soft- 
 hearted now that he had yielded so easily. But, in truth, 
 it was to Lina, not Alice, he had yielded. And was it 
 right of her, who had vowed so earnestly to be kind to him 
 to banish him summarily from a comfortable place where 
 he evidently wished to remain ? 
 
 Still, Lina's great trouble was not that, but an old one.
 
 THE LITTLE TRAVELLER. 229 
 
 During the weeks that had passed, she had become accus- 
 tomed to Hugh's presence at Nelly's lessons, and had 
 almost succeeded in persuading herself that he gave no 
 heed to them. But now the fact was forced upon her that 
 he did, at least sometimes, listen, and listen attentively. 
 
 He would come back next Sunday, and again after that ; 
 and he would hear what Nelly's teachers said to her, and 
 laudi to himself. It was no consolation to Lina to think 
 that he might never again put his scornful thoughts into 
 words ; they would be in his mind, and to know that was 
 misery enough to the little girl. 
 
 " Lally, I can't bear Hugh to sit here and listen !" 
 
 " Well, if it's a nasty thing, I suppose Jesus Christ sends 
 it," said Alice. 
 
 And Lina bowed her head, and took her rebuke silently 
 and meekly. Her own words were turned against her, and 
 she submitted. 
 
 Owing to her having been absent on the last Sunday, 
 more than her usual share of Nelly's lessons was allotted 
 to her this afternoon, and she turned back to her work ; 
 and in her work she found her reward. Gladness came 
 again to her heart as she heard Nelly repeat her hymn, and 
 explained to her once more the well-known picture of the 
 stable at Bethlehem. And by the time the lesson was 
 over, she had almost forgotten that she had ever been 
 vexed. The world looked all bright about her; she felt 
 that Jesus Christ had sent her nothing but good things. 
 Almost best of all, there was this little one whom Alice 
 and Lina thought more directly God -given than any- 
 thing else they possessed — the little traveller whom Christ 
 had committed to them to guide along the upward road — 
 the work which the Master of the vineyard had pointed 
 out, as it were with his own finger, to the children. Oh !
 
 230 A VISIT TO THE INVALID. 
 
 Jesus Christ had given them an infinitely good thing when 
 he gave them Nelly ! All Lina's worries and vexations 
 seemed dwarfed into insignificance in the presence of this 
 great joy. 
 
 Alice was most conscientious in her faithfulness to the 
 promise she had made Nelly's mother, to bring Lina with 
 her when she came again. She would not visit the Lodge 
 till her sister was allowed to accompany her ; and, owing 
 rather to the weather than the state of Lina's health, this 
 did not happen till the day before the journey to town. 
 Then, as the morning was bright, the two little girls set off 
 together ; Alice, very happy, with a basket of good things 
 for the invalid, and a piece of cake for Nelly. 
 
 The inhabitants of the Lodge were all at home this time, 
 and all busy at work. Mrs. Veitch, her arms buried deep 
 in a tub of soap-suds, had a look of resolute purpose and 
 yet beaming satisfaction which only came to her when she 
 was washing. A stool upturned on the floor at her feet 
 held Augusta's garments ; and beside it knelt Nelly, rub- 
 bing away at her doll's clothes in diligent imitation of her 
 grandmother's operations. Nelly's mother was in the 
 same seat at the window where Alice had seen her before; 
 and she had the same white look about her lips and cheeks, 
 and a heap of white work on the table and in her lap. 
 But her mood was different to-day, apparently. 
 
 When the Hopes came in at the open door, she rose and 
 greeted them after her mother. But she was cold and 
 distantly respectful, and, Lina thought, not at all glad to 
 see them ; while Alice, busy unpacking her basket, was 
 too happy to heed anything else. Lina sat watching the 
 stranger, feeling the same fascination that her sister had 
 done during her first visit, but with a great deal more 
 discomfort than Alice had ever experienced. Mrs. Veitch
 
 IN STRANGE SILENCE. 231 
 
 also kept glancing somewhat uneasily at her daughter, and 
 was wonderfully sparing with words of delight and grati- 
 tude as Alice brought out in triumph the currant-jelly and 
 the grapes, and finally the brown soup, which was her 
 special pride. 
 
 " Now, then, you'll surely be stronger when you've 
 taken all these !" she said joyously, when she had spread 
 them all out on the piece of the table she had herself 
 cleared for her treasures. And she gave Helen Russell's 
 work a final push in the direction of its owner, in case any 
 of the corners of cotton might get among the eatables. 
 
 Then, for the first time, Alice became conscious that her 
 bounties were being received in strange silence. It is true 
 that Mrs. Veitch was looking on, and murmuring thanks 
 occasionally, while she wiped her hands on her apron 
 nervously. But the person for whom the gifts were 
 intended said never a word, but sewed on, with lips tight 
 shut, and fingers that flew along her seam with astonishing 
 rapidity. If she knew that a basket had come at all, it 
 was certainly not by any look she had been seen to give at 
 it or its contents. 
 
 " You're ower kind, Miss Hope," said Mrs. Veitch at 
 last, but tremblingly. " We're muckle obleeged to tho 
 leddy, I'm sure. Helen — " 
 
 Here she paused, and looked appealingly at her daughter, 
 who then ceased her work, and looked straight over the 
 things on the table into Mrs. Veitch's eyes. " Well 
 mother V 
 
 " It's vera kind o' the young leddies and their mamma 
 I'm sure, Helen." 
 
 Helen looked so far from being sure of anything of the 
 sort, that the children were filled with grief and amaze- 
 ment.
 
 232 CHILLING DISAPPOINTMENT. 
 
 "Is there anything else you would have liked better?" 
 asked Alice, bewildered. But Lina reached out her hand 
 to her sister's dress and whispered, " We shouldn't have 
 brought the things at all. Say we're sorry, and put them 
 in the basket again and come away." 
 
 It was impossible not to be somewhat softened by the 
 children's disappointment. Helen Russell rose, and came 
 round to the table to look at what they had brought. 
 
 " I am very much obliged," she said, repeating her 
 mother's words in her own carefully correct English. 
 "But there is no need of bringing such things to me: I 
 am not so very ill ; I can take what my mother does. 
 Ask your stepmother to be so kind as to send nothing 
 more to me." 
 
 " We thought they were such nice things, and would 
 make you strong," said Alice. 
 
 " I don't need them, Miss Hope ; I am well enough to 
 work. The only kindness any one can do me is to give 
 me some work. Perhaps you would mention me to your 
 stepmother, if she needs any sewing at any time. I don't 
 want to be nothing but a burden to my mother, — and with 
 my child, too ! " 
 
 There was a wonderful charm to Alice and Lina in the 
 vr&y this woman had of addressing them as if they were 
 her equals in age. In thus being taken into her confidence, 
 they forgot their disappointment in their first attempts for 
 her benefit, and set about making new plans immediately. 
 " The worst is, mamma got so many new things before 
 she was married — her trousseau, you know," said Alice, 
 dubiously. " I'm afraid they're not worn out yet." 
 
 " But wc need new night-gowns," cried Lina. " Wouldn't 
 that do 1 " 
 
 They were so eager that they quite drowned poor Mrs.
 
 Alice's question. 233 
 
 Veitch's feeble protests that her daughter never was and 
 never could be a burden to her. And Nelly's mother 
 brightened up into interest over their proposals. "Yes, 
 thank you, Miss Caroline. If you really need some sew- 
 ing, it would be a great pleasure to me to do it. I used 
 to sew better than any of the girls at the sewing-school, 
 and I can sew yet. I can't read now." 
 
 " Oh, we really want it done," said Lina; who was, 
 however, desperately afraid that Alice might take it into 
 her head to add, " But there's Jessie and the sewing- 
 machine for the very purpose." However, Alice's mind 
 was taken up with something else ; her attention had been 
 caught by the last words Helen Russell had said. 
 
 " You can't read now ! Why not 1 " 
 
 Nelly's mother had gone back to her seat, holding by 
 the table for support as she went, as if the few moments 
 she had remained standing had entirely exhausted her. 
 Mrs. Yeitch and Nelly, who had gone back to their wash- 
 ing, both gazed at her earnestly ; but apparently it was 
 an understood thing that any signs of weakness should, by 
 words at least, remain unnoticed. After a moment's pause 
 and a great sigh the old woman went on wringing out the 
 clothes; and when she spoke, it was to enforce and apply 
 Alice's question. " Eh, but you were a richt good reader 
 once, my woman ! You'd hae read the newspaper from ae 
 end to the ither as fast as ye could say A, B, C. An' it 
 was aye books, books wi' you. Nothing would serve you 
 but books ; and gin you got a book, you gave heed to 
 naebody and naething ! " 
 
 " I was very silly, I dare say, and very idle," her 
 daughter said wearily ; " and I wish I had never read the 
 books I did sometimes. But that's all over now. I can't 
 read good books or bad books now ; 1 see the woi'ds with
 
 234 " SHALL I BEAD NOW 1 " 
 
 my eyes, but they won't go into my head, though I read 
 them over and over." 
 
 "Don't you even read the Bible, then?" asked Alice, 
 bluntly. 
 
 "Not even the Bible!" was the answer, given in a 
 bitter, hopeless tone. 
 
 "But that's very dreadful," said Alice. "Some one 
 ought to read to you. It isn't right to go on so. Get 
 your mother to do it, — you ought, — and we'll do it every 
 time we come." 
 
 For a minute after that the silence was only broken by 
 the sound of Helen Russell's needle and thread, which 
 went through the thick cotton she was sewing with a sort 
 of whizzing sound. Lina's entreaties to her sister to come 
 away were all dumb signs, and it was Alice herself who 
 spoke again first. 
 
 " Shall I read now 1 " 
 
 " Yes, if you like, Miss Hope," Nelly's mother said then 
 quietly. 
 
 " All right ; I will. Where shall I get a Bible, 
 though V 
 
 Before Mrs. Veitch had time to get the soap-suds off her 
 hands, Nelly was pulling at the lid of a large wooden box 
 which stood at the side of the room, and calling for help to 
 open " gra'ma's kist." Alice hastened to her aid without 
 the least hesitation. She begged Mrs. Veitch not to trouble 
 herself, and, under Nelly's direction, speedily gained pos- 
 session of a black, gilt-clasped Bible, which formed part of 
 a most miscellaneous collection of articles in the big chest. 
 
 " Here one is ; I've got it. Now, Nelly darling, there 
 are lots of stories in here, and I'm going to read one now." 
 
 " Is it Sabbass-day 1 " asked Nelly, as her teacher put 
 one arm round her and drew her close.
 
 A WELL-KNOWN TALE. 235 
 
 "No; but it's right to read the Bible any day," said 
 Alice, and turned to the second chapter of Luke. She 
 did so because it was Nelly's favourite story; also she 
 forgot it was Christmas-time. 
 
 Mrs. Veitch sat down on the chest, and solemnly folded 
 her arms in the lap of her blue petticoat, while Nelly 
 pressed eagerly to her teacher's side, and Lina gave up 
 making signs which Alice would give no heed to. Only, 
 Helen Russell went on with her sewing hastily, as if her 
 coming soon to the end of her seam was the most important 
 thing to her in the world. And without the least timidity 
 Alice began to read, making her voice ring out the words, 
 distinct and slow, so that Nelly might understand. 
 
 But in the first verse or two Nelly failed to recognize 
 the well-known tale. Her attention flagged, and Alice 
 had to recall it by a look and a pressure of her hand when 
 the language became simpler. "And there were in the 
 same country shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch 
 over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord 
 came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round 
 about them, and they were very sore afraid." 
 
 Nelly became quite still, and her eyes went up to her 
 teacher's face. She was thoughtful, interested, but rather 
 perplexed, unfolding the familiar story out of the un- 
 familiar words. 
 
 " And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold I 
 bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all 
 people. For unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is 
 Christ the Lord." 
 
 The busy needle at the window went slower, the dark 
 head was bent more and more, as Alice read on. And 
 Nelly, hearing in the next verse of the manger and the 
 Baby there, was sure of her ground now, though she was
 
 23G MOTHER AND CHILD. 
 
 afterwards a little puzzled as to what a " multitude of the 
 heavenly host" might mean. But Alice did not stop to 
 explain ; she was reading for the general benefit, not for 
 Nelly only, nor indeed for Nelly chiefly. 
 
 " Glory to God in the highest," read Alice, her clear 
 young voice filling the little room with the exultant angelic 
 song. " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace — " 
 And at that word Helen Russell let fall her work alto- 
 gether, and clasped her thin fingers together with a con- 
 vulsive movement, then let them drop on the heap of white 
 sewing in her lap. Alice stopped involuntarily, but Nelly's 
 mother neither lifted her head nor spoke, so the little girl 
 began again. 
 
 " Glory to God in the highest ; on earth peace, good-will 
 towards men." 
 
 She read on to the end of the story of the shepherds, but 
 there she stopped, afraid of tiring her audience. As she 
 carefully snapped the clasp of the Bible into its place, 
 Nelly broke away from her, and ran off to the window in 
 excitement. " Muzzer, that's one of my stories, muzzer; 
 one of my Sabbass stories ! " 
 
 It was the first time Alice had seen the child go to 
 her mother, the first time she had heard her speak to her. 
 And the mother did not draw the little thing to her and 
 caress her. She sat still, and looked down at her with 
 those great sad eyes of hers, and the gentleness in her 
 voice had come there from no thoughts of Nelly. 
 
 " And one of mine too — one of my Sabbath stories I 
 used to hear long ago. Nelly, Nelly, be a better girl than 
 I've been, and you'll be a happier woman ! " 
 
 Lina scarcely knew why it was, only it was with diffi- 
 culty she could keep back her tears ; but Alice's strongest 
 feeling was disapproval. At Nelly's age she should believe
 
 AN EXPRESSION OF REGRET. 237 
 
 implicitly in the virtue of her elders. And here was her 
 mother as good as confessing to her that she might have 
 been a better woman. It was well, Alice thought, that 
 the child had a couple of teachers to train her up in the 
 way she should go, considering how utterly incapable her 
 parent was of doing so. 
 
 But happily (according to Alice's view of the matter) her 
 mother's words were far beyond Nelly's comprehension ; 
 they only filled her little mind with a vague sense of awe 
 and mystery. She would like to escape from it, as she 
 tried to do from the gaze of the eyes upon her, by turning 
 round to the table and the things Alice and Lina had 
 brought. 
 
 " Shall we take them away 1 " asked Lina, as she rose to 
 go; " or won't you let Nelly eat them 1 " 
 
 Nelly's mother roused herself with a sort of start. " I 
 am only sorry you had the trouble of bringing them," she 
 said hastily, with a curious wistful, penitent look. " It 
 was very kind of you; but there was no need, and I can't 
 eat much now. I'm afraid I've never thanked you. I've 
 been very rude ; but sometimes, now-a-days, I scarcely 
 know what I say ! " 
 
 " That's because you're ill," said Alice. 
 
 She regarded Nelly's mother's words as an expression of 
 regret for the confession made to her child, and thought it 
 would be well to warn her that, as long as she continued 
 in bad health, she had better speak as little as possible to 
 Nelly. But before she had time to say what she wanted, 
 Lina made her adieux hastily, and drew her away. Lina 
 had understood Helen Russell to mean a reluctant accept- 
 ance of their presents, and she wanted to get away before 
 there was time to reconsider the matter again. 
 
 During that day the children spoke much to each other
 
 238 A LOVING HEART. 
 
 of the three at the Lodge; and with the music of Lina's be- 
 loved Christmas hymns there came back to her always the 
 sound of Alice's voice reading in Mrs. Veitch's little room 
 about peace and good-will to men. So, while the sick and 
 weary woman carried her burden through the long hours, 
 a loving little heart thought often of her, and little hands 
 paused in their Christmas preparations while Lina prayed 
 " dear Lord Christ, give Nelly's mother peace ! " 
 
 Thus, through the children of the lady she had loved, 
 who were linked to her by their tender feeling to her own 
 little child, there were given to Helen Russell once again 
 God's Bible, eager, brave championship, fei'vent prayers.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DAY IN TOWN. 
 
 jjT was not always an easy matter to get Alice and 
 Lina up in good time in the morning, but on 
 that eventful Wednesday there was not the least 
 difficulty. In fact, white figures went pattering about 
 with bare feet in the darkness, and kept opening the 
 shutters to peer out at the weather from a very early hour; 
 and though Jessie came sooner than usual to call the chil- 
 dren, she found them both not only willing, but eager and 
 impatient, to be dressed. 
 
 The consequence was, that though their toilette was 
 naturally a longer and more important business than usual, 
 it was finished some time before the breakfast-hour, and 
 the children were at a loss for occupation. Lina, who was 
 ready first, wandered about restlessly, looking at all the 
 clocks in the house, and comparing them, which she found 
 a most perplexing and unsatisfactory business. When she 
 popped her head for the second time inside the schoolroom 
 door, she found Hugh seated at the table, very busy over 
 something. He looked up and smiled when he saw her; so 
 Lina, emboldened by his evident good-humour, and delighted 
 to get some one to talk to, came and stood beside him. Then 
 she noticed that he was working away with his penknife on 
 some walnut-shells; but she was too much engrossed with 
 her own affairs to pay much heed to what he was about.
 
 240 hugh's commissions. 
 
 " O Hugh ! do you know the clock in the dining-room 
 is seven minutes behind this one 1 " 
 
 " This one goes fast, I think," said Hugh. " You are 
 all ready in plenty of time, at any rate," he added, with an 
 amused look at bis cousin ; " you only need your hat now, 
 don't you 1 " 
 
 " And my gloves and my inulf. But you don't think 
 the others will be late, Hugh 1 " 
 
 " No, no ; there's loads of time. You're not going to 
 leaye here for an hour yet. Don't get into a panic ; you're 
 all right, — no fears of you. And now, will you bring me 
 some things that I want from town 1 " 
 
 " Yes, as many as you like," said Lina, well-pleased 
 though rather astonished. In business-like fashion she 
 produced from the little bag at her side a paper containing 
 a list of what she meant to purchase, and prepared to add 
 Hugh's commissions to the catalogue. Then she looked up 
 at him expectantly, with an air of grave importance, her 
 pencil in her hand. 
 
 " Some yards of ribbon — different colours — narrow stuif," 
 said Hugh ; " and I want some thimbles." 
 
 Lina stared at him in utter amazement. She had ex- 
 pected he would wish her to get him some sweetmeats or 
 a book for himself, or perhaps some suitable Christmas 
 present for Charley ; but certainly commissions like these 
 coming from him were sufficiently astounding. Her first 
 thought was a doubt of his sanity ; her second an idea that 
 he was trying to make a fool of her. 
 
 But Hugh went on with perfect gravity. " I mean little 
 thimbles, of course, — halfpenny or penny things. Look 
 here ;" and he held out to Lina the two halves of a walnut- 
 shell, neatly smoothed out inside, and each pierced with a 
 couple of holes. "That's a thimble-case: it shuts up — so."
 
 SOMETHING FOR THE CHRISTMAS-TREE. 241 
 
 " But it won't hold, Hugh," said Lina, as her cousin 
 fitted the two shells together in his hand. 
 
 " Won't it 1 ? it'll be made to. Don't you see these holes'? 
 Ribbon goes through them and ties with a bow at each 
 end, so the thimble's shut up right and tight. I can tell 
 you they look very well when they're done. Get some 
 bright red ribbon, you know, and some green, and some 
 blue. We'll make a good many when we're about it." 
 
 " You like making them, then ? " said Lina, still in the 
 deepest perplexity. 
 
 " Well ! there are more exciting amusements than split- 
 ting walnuts and tying them up again," Hugh said, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders slightly; "but it's not at all bad fun; 
 and it isn't so very easy to do it properly, either. Charley 
 never did one yet without smashing the nut up somehow. 
 And they're really very neat little things when they are 
 finished up ; I'm sure they'll look well on your Christmas- 
 tree." 
 
 " Are they for that 1 " cried Lina ecstatically. " You 
 dear boy ! " 
 
 Then she rushed at him eagerly, and seizing hold of his 
 arm, which was the nearest part of him she could get at, 
 she clasped it in both hands and hugged it close to her 
 breast. 
 
 " Hallo, what are you going to do 1 " asked Hugh. But 
 he seemed rather pleased than otherwise by Lina's sudden 
 demonstration, of which she was inclined to be ashamed 
 herself when she had collected her thoughts a little. 
 " Yoti'll get ribbons and thimbles for me, then, will you 1" 
 
 " Oh, won't I — won't I ! How good you are ! " 
 
 " Then, if you're going to write down the quantities 
 before the gong sounds, it would be advisable to begin." 
 
 "Yes, yes. Hugh, I'm sure they'll look beautiful." 
 (5(H) 1 G
 
 242 A PRETTY COMPLIMENT. 
 
 " That remains to be seen. Meanwhile, write l-ibbon — 
 green, red, and bine. Two yards of each, I should think, 
 would be about the correct thing." 
 
 Lina tried to make a desk of her purse ; but failing in 
 that, she put her paper on a chair, and got down on her 
 knees on the floor beside it, fumbling with her pencil 
 excitedly. 
 
 " How shall I write it, Hugh 1 how do you spell ribbon 1 ? 
 Oh, I'm afraid I won't be able to write it small enough to 
 get it all down here." 
 
 " Give me your pencil and paper ; I'll do it myself 
 quicker," said Hugh ; " and get up from the floor, I would 
 advise you, with all that grandeur." 
 
 Lina rose laughing, and shook out her dress as she will- 
 ingly yielded her list to her cousin. "Am I grand, then"?" 
 
 " I should say so. Haven't you got on your very best 
 Sunday go-to-meeting suit 1 Don't you really think now 
 yourself that you're rather a swell to-day 1 " 
 
 " I don't see myself, you know," said Lina — " at least, 
 not the whole of me ; but Alice looks very nice, I think. 
 Do you know, mamma and Miss Harvey think Alice 
 pretty. I heard them talking about it once. Do you 
 think she's pretty?" 
 
 " Yes, I do ; but I think you prettier," Hugh answered 
 bluntly. 
 
 Lina kept silence for a little, and Hugh had time to add 
 his list to hers before she asked timidty, " Do you mean 
 that, Hugh 1 " 
 
 " You needn't fish for more compliments, for you won't 
 get them, young woman. / think that you're prettier than 
 Alice, but I don't know that every one would." 
 
 Lina flushed rosy red, and her breath came quick. She 
 stood quiet a little longer, her fingers playing with the
 
 WAS SHE PRETTY? 243 
 
 walnut-shells absently, while Hugh still held her paper in 
 his hand. If the little girl's thoughts had not been entirely 
 occupied with a new idea, she would not have failed to 
 notice how he was looking over what she had written with 
 a somewhat scornful expression on his face. But he gave 
 back her list at last without any remark. Lina received it 
 mechanically, and ran away. 
 
 The longed-for sound of the breakfast-gong struck on 
 her ears as she hurried upstairs; but Lina heeded it not. 
 She locked herself in her room, and knelt on a chair 
 before the mirror, her eager face so near that her breath 
 dimmed the glass. "Was it true that she was pretty 1 ? 
 Hugh had said so, and Hugh was certainly not given to 
 flattery ; but surely the thing was too delightful to be sober 
 matter-of-fact. Lina would like so much to be pretty ! 
 The wish had been in her mind ever since she could re- 
 member, but it had never come so far as a hope. For, in 
 spite of the fairy tales about golden-haired princesses, Lina's 
 ideal of beauty had always lain with the dark-eyed heroines, 
 who possessed ebon tresses and brown gipsy complexions. 
 Once, when she was a very little girl, she had prayed at 
 night that God would give her black hair and eyes while 
 she slept. Never since that morning, when, immediately 
 on waking, she rushed to the looking-glass, — only to find 
 with bitter disappointment that she was perfectly un- 
 changed, — had Lina contemplated her own reflection so 
 earnestly as she did now. 
 
 She examined herself in detail — the delicate-tinted, softly- 
 rounded face, with big brow, and innocent eyes, and red, 
 parted lips j the bright hair, falling in wavcless, silken 
 locks over the frill of lace and the fur about her throat. 
 "I don't know," said Lina gravely; and she shook her 
 golden luad as she came away. " T don't know ! Perhaps
 
 244 FULL OF IMPATIENCE. 
 
 if my hair was curly — or if I had even brown eyes — but 1 
 don't know." 
 
 After all, Lina was the last to come to the breakfast- 
 table ; but it didn't matter much, for she could scarcely 
 taste food. Even Alice's appetite was affected by the 
 excitement about her prospects for the day. Miss Harvey 
 seemed moving in an atmosphere of bustle and packing, 
 and Mrs. Hope was the only one of the travellers who was 
 able to preserve her usual demeanour. 
 
 Of course, the little girls were ready before the carriage 
 came, and sat in the hall on Miss Harvey's boxes, impa- 
 tiently waiting. Alice had her list of commissions too, 
 and was inclined to be very proud and important because 
 Fraulein had trusted her to make a purchase of wool for 
 her. "Do you want anything, Charley 1 ?" she shouted, as 
 the brothers appeared from the dining-room. 
 
 " Chocolate," said Charley promptly ; and produced a 
 very bent sixpence. "That's all the money I've got." 
 " Do you want anything, Hugh 1 " 
 " Lina is going to get my things for me." 
 " Oh yes, Alice. Hugh is going to make thimble-cases 
 — such beauties — for the tree. Do show them to Alice, 
 Hugh." 
 
 But he only smiled, and said there was no hurry, as he 
 went off to the schoolroom. Lina felt rather remorseful 
 that she had not remembered to tell Alice before of Hugh's 
 wonderful pei*forinance ; but then there had been so much 
 to think of in the way of business, and on the top of it all 
 had come that wonderfully interesting question which still 
 remained unsolved. She would have liked to ask Alice 
 what she thought of her appearance; but she knew that this 
 would only move her to contempt and indignation. Alice 
 did not care in the least whether she was pretty or not.
 
 AN EVASIVE ANSWER. 245 
 
 Nevertheless, Lina was so very anxious to get light on 
 the subject, that when nurse came to look at the children 
 before they went away she mustered courage to consult 
 her. " Do we look nice, nurse 1 " 
 
 "I jist wish I had all the money Mistress Hope puts 
 out on your frocks," was the answer, grimly given. 
 
 " But, nurse, do you think we're pretty — ourselves, I 
 mean 1 " 
 
 " Be good, an' ye'll do, Carolyne," said nurse. 
 
 And then the carriage came to the door, and the luggage 
 was packed in, and Mr. Hope and Charley appeared to see 
 the party off. So Lina went away without knowing 
 whether she was pretty or not. But there are much worse 
 things in this world than uncertainty. 
 
 Instead of evading the question put to her, by giving an 
 exhortation to be good, nurse might have set Lina's doubts 
 at a dreadful rest for ever by a decided negative. Suppose 
 that, when she tremblingly asked if she were at all pretty, 
 the answer had been given in another of nurse's character- 
 istic phrases. " 'Deed ye're no that, my lassie," might have 
 been the reply. Lina reflected with a shudder on what her 
 feelings would have been then. As it was, the little girl, 
 seated beside her sister on the front seat of the carriage, 
 held herself very straight, in the proud consciousness that 
 she was very likely a pleasing object to all eyes that beheld 
 her : had she been perfectly certain tills was the fact, her 
 cup of joy would have been quite too full to hold. 
 
 For was it not a strange and glorious thing for Alice 
 and Lina to be driving away through the crisp morning air, 
 at the very time when they generally sat down with Frau- 
 lein in the schoolroom to their lessons'? Scarcely ever in 
 their lives had they been at Aberinnan before eleven o'clock 
 on a week-day morning. Every shop, every vehicle, nay.
 
 24G THE CRIMEAN TROPHY. 
 
 every person that they passed, as they drove down the long 
 village street, was a source of interest to the children. 
 
 The youngsters of Aberinnan, less fortunate than the 
 Hopes, were all shut up in school ; there was not a boy 
 left to annoy George by attaching himself to the back of 
 the carriage, or scandalize Alice by clambering about the 
 cannon on the market-place. This magnificent Crimean 
 trophy, set up in front of the shining granite Town-house, 
 stood alone in its glory to-day. Alice never passed it 
 without a look of love and pride, for her patriotism was 
 very lively, and her tastes decidedly martial. But Lina was 
 never sure of that cannon ; she regarded it as a sort of 
 slumbering volcano, which might wake up any day and 
 spread sudden death and destruction around. Of course, 
 she knew that it could not possibly fire of its own accord; 
 but Lina's feelings were not much under the control of 
 either knowledge or reason, and she was always glad to get 
 out of range of this terrible instrument of war. Even the 
 lovely colours in the chemist's window had no charms for 
 her, as they were still within sight of the cannon's mouth ; 
 the butcher's shop she considered her first point of safety, 
 though the master thereof himself, with a great shock of 
 red hair on his head and a mighty knife in his hand, was 
 not a soothing spectacle when she caught a glimpse of him 
 through the door. But to-day they passed quickly out of 
 reach of the cannon, and the butcher was not to be seen at 
 all. 
 
 Then, when the carriage stopped at the station, how en- 
 tertaining it was to see the brown-bearded porter (Alice 
 and Lina used to wonder how it was that railway guards 
 and porters were invariably such handsome men) come out 
 to take down Miss Harvey's boxes, and carry them off" to 
 be labelled. Afterwards followed the taking of tickets,
 
 GOING TO TRAVEL. 247 
 
 done by the proud and important Alice, — who was very 
 particular as to getting back the right change, and very 
 uncertain whether the clerk had done well in giving her 
 three whole tickets, instead of two whole and two half, as 
 she had asked for. 
 
 The train was late, but even that afforded pleasure to 
 Alice and Lina; for, while Miss Harvey was complaining 
 volubly of the delay while she sat with their stepmother 
 in the dingy, dirty little waiting-room, the little girls 
 promenaded up and down the platform, and showed them- 
 selves off. They were very anxious to let it be known they 
 were going to travel ; and, doubtless, the inhabitants of 
 Aberinnan, represented by some half-dozen women, with 
 accompanying baskets or babies, were sufficiently interested 
 in the fact. It is indeed probable that all at the station 
 were aware, not only that the fair-haired little maidens in 
 velveteen and chinchilla were the Hopes of Hopefield, but 
 also that their present dainty costumes were perfectly new, 
 and that their whole appearance, as far as dress was con- 
 cerned, had been greatly improved since their father's second 
 marriage. 
 
 There was a moment of intense excitement when the 
 train came up, — a brief agony in the children's minds lest 
 somehow there should be no room for them, — then a revul- 
 sion of feeling into happiness as intense when that polite 
 and obliging gentleman, the station-master, showed the 
 Hopefield party into a carriage by themselves. Alice and 
 Lina sank each into a window-seat, the bags and wraps 
 were piled up on the cushion between them, and Mrs. 
 Hope and her friend sat on the opposite side. The hour's 
 journey in prospect seemed a delightfully long one to the 
 children ; they had gone over it before, and recalled to each 
 other's memory the sights they had seen.
 
 218 PLAIN SPEAKING. 
 
 " The reflection of the house in the water is at your side, 
 Lally." 
 
 "All right; I'll tell you when it's time to look. Be sure 
 to tell me when we come to the name of the station cut out 
 in the gi-ass." 
 
 " Isn't this jolly 1 " 
 
 "Jolly, jolly!" 
 
 Such exquisite enjoyment is generally short-lived in this 
 world, and, as often happens, the very exuberance of the 
 children's pleasure brought on its destruction. 
 
 " I declare, Lottie, it makes me wish I was young again, 
 to see these creatures," said Miss Harvey. " Fancy think- 
 ing a day's shopping a pleasant thing ! — Tell me, now, what 
 you're going to buy, Alice." 
 
 If Miss Harvey could be said to have a fancy for either 
 of the children, it was certainly for Alice, though that 
 young person entertained the warmest dislike for her. 
 Miss Harvey did not seem to mind, however; indeed, 
 Alice's rudeness was apparently the attraction in her eyes. 
 
 " I'm going to buy nothing for you, at any rate," was the 
 answer given to her question. 
 
 " Horrid girl that you are ! Why not, pray 1 " 
 
 " Because I've only money enough to buy things for re- 
 lations, and people I like very much." 
 
 "Worse and worse; I feel I'm very badly treated. Let 
 me see your list of the relations and people you like very 
 much." 
 
 " I haven't a list of them, only of the things I'm going to 
 buy. ISTo; you shan't have it, Miss Harvey." 
 
 But Miss Harvey had already got possession of the little 
 paper which lay on Alice's hip, and was proceeding to un- 
 fold it. The owner flung herself upon her, and would have 
 reclaimed her property by main force, had not Mrs. Hope
 
 A CURIOSITY. 249 
 
 interfered, and at her order Alice sat down again. " Well, 
 read it if you like. I think it very nasty of yon, but it 
 doesn't matter a bit to me." 
 
 However, Alice's defiant dignity was nearly upset by the 
 sight of the amusement which the perusal of her cherished 
 document gave to Miss Harvey. 
 
 " Look at this, Lottie. I never saw such spelling in my 
 life ; Emily's children's letters are nothing to it. It is too 
 ridiculous ! N-e-d-e-1, needle ; ribbon with only one b ; 
 and what's thisl — p-e-n-s-i-1-1 — oh, pencil I Really this is a 
 curiosity well worth preservation." 
 
 " It is a shame to torment the poor child," said Mrs. 
 Hope ; but she too was laughing over the list in which 
 the misspellings, written carefully in huge round-hand, 
 were glaringly evident to the most casual observer. 
 
 " Oh, it doesn't torment me!" said Alice, her face crimson 
 nevertheless. " One way of spelling a word is just as 
 good as another, I should say. No matter how they're 
 written, if people know what they mean." 
 
 Miss Harvey was moved to renewed laughter by this speech 
 of Alice; and, under cover of her merriment, Lina ventured 
 to ask wistfully, "Does it matter very much, mamma 1 ?" 
 She had stretched out her hand to her stepmother's dress ; 
 and Mrs. Hope, looking up from the list, which was cer- 
 tainly a singular production, met the inquiring gaze of the 
 little girl's eyes. What Miss Harvey thought, was a matter 
 of very little importance; but mamma's judgment was final, 
 and without appeal. "Here's my paper too," said Lina. 
 " Does it matter very much how the words are spelt, 
 mamma ] " 
 
 "That's very good," said Miss Harvey. "You're a 
 pretty pair of daughters for a bookworm to have ! I can't 
 understand how their father hasn't looked after them better,
 
 250 DISGRACED FOR EVER. 
 
 Lottie. Does that governess of theirs teach them nothing 
 but to jabber her language 1 " 
 
 " She can scarcely be expected to teach them no write 
 English ; we must try some other plan for that, I think," 
 Mrs. Hope replied. 
 
 " Alice thinks there's no need ; it does not matter how 
 words are spelt," said Miss Harvey, going off into another 
 fit of laughter. " Do you give your protegee spelling- 
 lessons 1 " 
 
 " Do you mean Nelly 1 Spelling-lessons on Sunday ! 
 That would be very wicked," Alice replied, stoutly ; but 
 the idea that she was considered an incompetent teacher 
 stung her, though she was too proud to own it. For Mrs. 
 Hope was smiling too, evidently agreeing with Miss 
 Harvey ; and Alice had not been without her plans and 
 longings about conducting Nelly's secular education some 
 time soon. 
 
 As for Liua, when her stepmother gave back her paper, 
 with an attempt at looking grave while she said, "It does 
 matter a good deal, dear," the poor little girl sunk back in 
 perfect anguish, knowing that her list was as bad as Alice's, 
 and feeling that she was disgraced for ever. She and Alice 
 were worse than those little nephews and nieces of Miss 
 Harvey, who were perpetually being quoted as hopeless 
 dunces ; their ignorance brought shame on the name of 
 their father ; even mamma, in her good-nature, <;ould find 
 no shadow of an excuse for them. Whether Lina was 
 pretty or not mattered nothing, now that she was branded 
 with this terrible infamy. 
 
 The blow that had fallen upon the children was all the 
 more terrible because it was so unexpected : they had 
 always had perfect confidence in their own attainments. 
 To be sure they never wrote letters, but then they had no
 
 NOTHING LIKE SCHOOL. 251 
 
 occasion to do so; they had no relations but their father 
 and cousins, no friends but each other. Their English copy- 
 book writing Fraulein had taken care should be fairly good ; 
 and they had bestowed much pains on their lists the even- 
 ing before, and considered them perfect masterpieces. 
 
 "You should send these girls to school, Lottie," said 
 Miss Harvey. " Mary's Bessie goes to London this winter, 
 and I was strongly advising her to send the twins at the 
 same time. There's nothing like school for making boys 
 and girls find their own level. And the comfort it must be 
 to their mothers ! I'm sure, if I had children, I should not 
 be bothered having a governess in the house for them; I 
 would pack them off to school right out of the nursery — and 
 it would be the veiy best thing for them and myself too. 
 Of course it's different with you — people do talk so about 
 stepmothers ; but, as I told you when you married, my 
 dear, whatever you do with the children, people will say 
 you're not kind to them. You must make up your mind 
 to that, and do what you like with the girls. One comfort 
 is, Mr Hope will never interfere." 
 
 And all the time the poor little girls, hearing this speech, 
 kept their faces turned to the window to hide their utter 
 dismay and misery. Were things then come to this fear- 
 ful pass 1 Was their spelling so bad that nothing but a 
 boarding-school would rectify it ? The idea of being sent 
 away from home had never occurred to them before, and it 
 was one of unmitigated horror. To part from every person 
 and everything they loved, and go away for years among 
 strangers, — that was what the plan Miss Harvey proposed 
 so glibly meant to Alice and Lina. And it was not only 
 their own lives which would be involved in hopeless rum 
 by the adoption of this scheme ; for what would become of 
 Nelly if her teachers went away J
 
 252 A KNACK OF BEING HAPPY. 
 
 When they thought of all this, Alice and Lina felt in- 
 clined to cling to their stepmother, and beseech her with 
 tears not to be so cruel as to consent to their banishment ; 
 but the curious pride and reserve which are inherent even in 
 the frankest of children, made them try to conceal their 
 feelings. They sat quite quiet at their respective windows, 
 pressing their faces close to the glass, and appearing as if 
 they neither knew nor cared what was being said. But, 
 intent as they seemed on looking out, all they passed was 
 indistinct for a while to their tear-filled eyes, and their 
 ears were strained to catch every word of the conversation 
 behind them. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Hope, in answer to Miss Harvey's 
 speech about schools, " I know I was very happy at St. 
 Servan, and in London too. To be sure, I had no home to 
 be home-sick for." This last remark she made cheerfully, 
 as if stating an advantage she had had over her schoolmates. 
 " Poor Lily Ashley used to cry sadly, I remember, when 
 she went back to Miss Meredith's after the holidays; ami 
 if I had been home with her, I used to feel she must think 
 me cold-hearted. So she did, I've no doubt ; but it wasn't 
 that I didn't enjoy Uncle James's. I think I must have a 
 knack of being happy anywhere ! " 
 
 " So you have," said Miss Harvey. " That must be said 
 of you, Lottie, and it can't be said of Lily. The last time 
 I heard of her — " 
 
 So the talk drifted away from Alice and Lina's concerns, 
 and the two ladies probably forgot it had ever been about 
 them at all ; but their words remained in the children's 
 hearts. The house reflected in the water, and the name of 
 the station cut in the grass on the bank, were passed un- 
 marked, and not even the excitement and bustle of their 
 arrival in the city restored their animation. Two very
 
 IN THE WAITING-ROOM. 25 
 
 a 
 
 staid, indeed rather stolid-looking children, they were, who 
 followed their guardians to the waiting-room and deposited 
 their load of wraps on the table there. 
 
 "Your train is not due for fifteen minutes yet," said 
 Mrs. Hope. " You had better sit down at the fire and get 
 thoroughly warmed, and I'll go and examine the book-stall 
 to see if I can get anything readable for you there, Maggie." 
 
 Off she went, looking very bright and girlish in her 
 smart travelling hat and dress. Miss Harvey occupied 
 herself in strapping some of her possessions together ; and 
 the little girls stood in the middle of the floor, eying with 
 a gloomy and vacant stare the gentle little woman who 
 was attendant in the waiting-roorn. Alice and Lina were 
 determined not to look at Miss Harvey, or take any notice 
 of her at all. 
 
 " Come and give a pull to this buckle, Alice," said the 
 lady, who was perfectly unconscious that she was under 
 the children's displeasure. 
 
 Alice paid no attention whatever, nor did she alter the 
 stony gaze which she was fixing straight before her ; but 
 after a moment Lina, colouring with shame at her sister's 
 rudeness, went and gave the assistance required. 
 
 " Clever girl," said Miss Harvey, as she put in the strap. 
 " Three hands are better than two. Well, good-bye, chil- 
 dren ; I won't be at my journey's end till you're all at home 
 again. I hope you will have a successful day's shopping. 
 Buy something for yourselves from me, — dolls, or work- 
 boxes, or whatever you like ; you'll choose best yourselves." 
 
 Then, to the children's utter astonishment, she came for- 
 ward and kissed them, and presented them each with a 
 couple of half-crowns. Alice and Lina remained perfectly 
 passive under the kisses, but woke up into very vigorous 
 life with the latter operation.
 
 254 A MISJUDGED FRIEND. 
 
 Now, perhaps, considering the wrongs they had suffered 
 from Miss Harvey, and the general feelings they entertained 
 towards her, proper pride should have made .the children 
 decline the money ; but I am bound to confess that such 
 an idea never entei*ed their heads. They only thought with 
 delight what a great addition it would make to the store 
 they already had. 
 
 " Oh, thank you, thank you ! " cried Alice and Lina. 
 " How very kind of you ! " 
 
 And this they said not at all hypocritically, but feeling 
 that they had misjudged their stepmother's friend, and that 
 she was by no means so utterly base as they had supposed. 
 Besides, as Alice said to Lina afterwards, it is a duty to 
 love and forgive your enemies; and a present of five shil- 
 lings does certainly make it easier to do. They had not 
 recovered from their bewilderment when their stepmother 
 returned with some newspapers and a novel ; and, with 
 much better will this time, the children again took up Miss 
 Harvey's things and carried them for her to the south train. 
 
 " Good-bye, Lottie dear. I've had a very pleasant visit, 
 and I only wish you were coming with me," she said, when 
 the Hopes had established her and her belongings satisfac- 
 torily in a carriage. But just as the ticket-collector was 
 making his rounds, Alice sprang at the door and asked 
 eagerly, " May we do what we like with the money you 
 gave us 1 " 
 
 " Oh dear yes ; buy whatever trash you like." 
 
 " But must we buy for ourselves, or may we buy some- 
 thing for other people 1 " 
 
 "Tickets, please!" said an irritated voice behind; and 
 Mrs. Hope drew Alice away, to let the tickets be examined 
 and the carriage-door shut. Even when the man had gone 
 she was not allowed to go and stand on the step again; but
 
 IN A WHIRL OF EXCITEMENT. 255 
 
 Alice was not to be balked. " May we 1 may we 1 " she 
 shouted from the platform ; and Miss Harvey nodded her 
 head; and the train moved off, leaving the two little girls 
 standing beside their stepmother, waving their handker- 
 chiefs wildly, and much divided in their minds between 
 pleasure that Miss Harvey had fairly gone away, and re- 
 gret that they had disliked her so very much when she was 
 with them. 
 
 " Now, then, for business," said Mrs. Hope; and in a few 
 minutes the three were in a cab, rattling away to the region 
 of fashionable shops. 
 
 I think the pleasure of that day in town was mostly in 
 the prospect and retrospect. The children had speculated 
 about it beforehand eagerly, and afterwards its experiences 
 formed a favourite topic of conversation for weeks ; but at 
 the time they were in a whirl of excitement too great to be 
 actually enjoyable. It was so strange to pass along the 
 streets and gaze on the unfamiliar faces ! The little girls 
 especially interested them, for it was unusual for them to see 
 any creatures like themselves; but here they were in abund- 
 ance — bigger girls, smaller girls, and girls about the same 
 age; some with school-books and music-rolls, e violently return- 
 ing from lessons ; others out walking with their mammas or 
 nurses. Alice and Lina stared hard at them all, noticing 
 their gait and mien, their hair and their dress: but it was 
 those returning from school they observed most closely; and 
 when they saw a girl with a particularly large parcel of books 
 walking quickly on with a preoccupied look on her face, 
 the little Hopes regarded her respectfully, and were sure 
 she was a well-informed young person, who would likely be 
 able to spell ! 
 
 It was strange, too, to go from one shop to another, and 
 spend in a couple of hours' time not only Miss Harvey's
 
 256 WONDERFUL REGIONS. 
 
 bounty, but the money they had been hoarding for months 
 past. They did not regret it, however, in the least, for 
 they received in return treasures, in many cases more beau- 
 tiful than they had hoped for. Sometimes, indeed, they 
 saw their own ideas embodied in the articles they purchased ; 
 but, oftener still, they chose on the impulse of the moment 
 something such as they had never thought of before, but 
 which seemed to them infinitely more suitable than the gift 
 they had planned. For instance: they had long intended 
 to give Jessie a pair of scissors, but in the fancy-bazaar 
 where their stepmother took them first they saw delicious 
 little red leather needle-books, that were prettier than any 
 scissors ; so they brought two of these (Miss Harvey's 
 kindness enabling them to afford the extra outlay) — one 
 for Jessie, one for Nelly's mother. 
 
 It was really like Fairyland, this bazaar in its Christmas 
 splendour. The children passed out of the daylight of the 
 street and the front shop into wonderful regions at the 
 back, where coloured Chinese lamps shed an unearthly 
 brilliance around, and unseen instruments made a gentle, 
 tinkling music that was wonderfully sweet. Here it 
 seemed to Alice and Lina that they might wander about 
 for ever among streets of toys. Here were piles of won- 
 derful boxes, the sight of which thrilled their hearts, even 
 at this date when tea-sets and dinner-sets, soldiers and 
 ninepins, farms and villages, were playthings of the past to 
 them. Here were steeds of all sorts, — from the magnifi- 
 cent rocking-horse, provided with saddle, bridle, and stirrups, 
 and costing several pounds, to the modest little wooden 
 pony (price threepence) with straight sticks for legs and a 
 bit of wool for a tail. Here were Noah's Arks, great and 
 small, and drums and pop-guns in abundance ; and oh, 
 what magnificent balls — huge, gaily-coloured, variegated — ■
 
 ALL ABOUT DOLLS. 257 
 
 hung in bunches from above ! Hei'e, too, were stalls ap- 
 propriated to baskets of all descriptions ; also reticules, 
 writing-cases, work-boxes, and bags. But the place where 
 Lina lingered longest was the territory of the dolls. 
 
 Tenderly her eyes rested on them — blue-eyed and black- 
 eyed darlings — dolls of wax, china, and nondescript com- 
 position, with curly wigs or painted hair, as befitted the 
 material of their heads. There were dolls here that were 
 grown-up people ; but, whether they were dressed as fine 
 ladies, white-aproned maid-servants, or fishwives in striped 
 petticoats, Lina cared comparatively little for them. Her 
 favourites were the children and the little babies, and 
 among them she preferred those who wore only such cloth- 
 ing as delicacy required. The scanty little chemises dis- 
 played the quality of the arms and legs ; besides, Lina did 
 not admire the taste displayed in the costumes of the shop- 
 dressed dolls. Home-made garments were much more 
 satisfactory, and could be made to fasten on properly with 
 buttons and strings instead of hasty, unnatural stitches, 
 taken sometimes through the very body of the wearer. 
 Fain would Lina have purchased a doll for Nelly, but the 
 little Thing's indifference to Augusta was so open and un- 
 deniable that it would have been mere folly to give such a 
 cai'eless mother another child. So it had been already 
 fixed that Nelly was to have a Noah's Ark, as large as her 
 teachers' combined efforts could purchase for her; and Lina 
 was turning sadly away from the creatures she loved when 
 Mrs. Hope came up behind her, and said, " We must have 
 some dolls for the tree." 
 
 " O mamma darling, — dolls ! " cried Lina, nearly tear- 
 ful with surprise and delight at hearing the word in its 
 plural form. But her stepmother's actions were as gener- 
 ous as her words, for she chose out half-a-dozen ; and, be- 
 
 564) 17
 
 258 " A JOINT-STOCK BUSINESS. 
 
 lieving much in the charms of variety, took two boys, two 
 girls, and two babies. They were little dolls, to be sure ; 
 but Mrs. Hope took care that their faces were clean and 
 their limbs sound, and in Lina's eyes they were beautiful. 
 
 " We'll dress them ourselves," said Mrs. Hope. " Come 
 and let us see what else there is." 
 
 Alice and Lina followed her back to the basket and box 
 department, where she quickly added several other articles 
 to her store ; then she turned her attention to playthings 
 suitable for boys. Remembering dark prophecies which 
 had come from nurse's lips, the children became uneasy, 
 fearing their mamma's expenditure was beyond the bounds 
 of prudence. 
 
 " Let us pay for some of these things," they whispered. 
 " We have lots of money ; Miss Harvey gave us some ; 
 and, you know, it's our tree !" 
 
 " Nonsense," was the merry answer ; " it's my affair too 
 — a joint-stock business." 
 
 So balls, tops, and transparent slates were bought, and 
 then little wax-candles of many colours; after which the 
 party turned away to a magic chamber which was entirely 
 filled with ornaments for Christmas-trees. Only when 
 Mrs. Hope had laid in what seemed to the children an 
 enormous stock of these, did Alice and Lina go to choose 
 the ark for Nelly; but as they had fixed the exact price 
 they were willing to give for it, this was not a lengthy 
 business. Finally came the purchase of the half-dozen 
 thimbles for Hugh, and then they were done with that 
 wonderful shop. 
 
 A visit to a draper's came next, and here Mrs. Hope 
 launched out into the most unheard-of extravagance ; for 
 she purchased for the children not only a couple of scarfs 
 a-piece, but also kid gloves, which were exactly their size.
 
 AT THE CONFECTIONER'S. 259 
 
 Alice suggested it might be better to leave room for the 
 growth of their hands ; but Mrs. Hope said she preferred 
 to see her daughters properly gloved ; and when the little 
 girls had got on their new possessions, they were ready to 
 confess that the effect was very good. 
 
 " Your hands do look nicer a sort of tight," said Alice, 
 when they were once more in the street; "better than 
 when they're wrinkly and crinkly, and a great long bit of 
 glove at the end of your fingers. I don't know what nurse 
 will say, though, for she always gets our gloves very big." 
 
 Lina, who was peeping contentedly into the parcel 
 containing Hugh's ribbons, which she had just bought, 
 shook her head over Alice's remarks, but ventured no 
 opinion on the subject ; and the arrival of the party at a 
 confectioner's made the pulling off of the new gloves a 
 necessity. 
 
 Alice and Lina had heard that when new shop-boys anil 
 shop-girls come to a confectioner's, they are allowed to eat 
 just as much as they like, and so in a short time they get 
 disgusted, and care no more to taste the dainties they sell. 
 1 do not think, however, that the children ever thoroughly 
 believed that story. Certainly it seemed very improl tal »le 
 to them that day, when they sat down on tall cane chairs 
 by a counter covered with all imaginable delicacies, and 
 heard their stepmother telling them to take what they 
 chose. Travelling and shopping seemed to have given 
 them back the fine appetites they had lost in the early 
 morning, and the number of novel eatables which they 
 tried and found excellent was very remarkable. They 
 could not understand how Mrs. Hope could bring her 
 meal to an end so soon; but she requested them not to 
 hurry theirs in the least, and meanwhile she bought sugar 
 ornaments for the Christmas-tree.
 
 260 BOOKS FOR LADIES ! 
 
 When the children were quite done with their lunch, 
 they would have hurried immediately into the street ; but 
 Mrs. Hope requested them to put on their gloves first, 
 — which they accordingly did, though it was a work of 
 time. 
 
 " Big gloves do go on easiest," said Alice, rather rue- 
 fully. "Now, where next, mamma % " 
 
 " Well, I'm going to the library." 
 
 "Isn't that at a bookseller's? We want some books. 
 Do you think black shiny Psalm-books like nurse's are 
 very expensive, mamma 1 " 
 
 " I shouldn't think so. Do you want to make somebody 
 the present of one 1 " 
 
 "Mrs. Veitch." 
 
 " I might have known," said Mrs. Hope, in a way that 
 was rather hurtful to the children's feelings ; for Mrs. 
 Veitch was by no means the only person for whom they 
 were planning the gift of a book, and it was rather hard 
 that mamma should speak as if she. were. 
 
 When they came to the bookseller's, and Mrs. Hope had 
 gone into the library, leaving the children in the front shop 
 to choose their Psalm-book, Alice and Lina had a hurried 
 consultation in whispers. Then Alice turned to the shop- 
 man and asked, "Have you any books suitable for ladies?" 
 
 " For ladies ! " he repeated in some astonishment and 
 perplexity. 
 
 "Yes, suitable for ladies." 
 
 The description naturally seemed to the man rather 
 vague, but he looked around with a praiseworthy anxiety 
 to find something satisfactory ; and meanwhile Lina, whose 
 eyes had been wandering about also, espied an old friend. 
 " O Lally ! she hasn't a Bogatsky." 
 
 " Are you quite sure 1 "
 
 ALMOST FOUND OUT. 26 i 
 
 " Yes, quite ; and I'm sure nurse wouldn't lend her 
 hers. We ought to get her that, I think." 
 
 "All right," Alice answered; "but we must be quick." 
 And suiting the action to the word, she stepped briskly 
 after their attendant, who was selecting some gaily-bound 
 little volumes of poetry for their inspection; and tapping 
 him smartly on the arm, she said, " We'll take a Bogatsky. 
 Please be as quick as you can." 
 
 " What book did you say, miss 1 " asked the bewildered 
 individual. 
 
 " Bogatsky ; a text-book, you know." 
 
 " ' The Golden Treasury,' " Lina explained. " I see a 
 purple one on that shelf there ; and if you would be so 
 kind as to put it in paper as soon as possible, for there's 
 a lady gone into the library that we don't want to see it." 
 
 But, in spite of their eagerness, the shopman was pro- 
 vokingly slow in his movements, and Alice was just receiv- 
 ing the brown paper parcel into her hands when Mrs. Hope 
 appeared on the scene. 
 
 "The Psalm-book seems rather a small thick one," she 
 remarked, spreading alarm and dismay by her words. 
 Alice, apparently ignorant of the proverb about locking 
 the stable door after the steed is stolen, attempted to cover 
 the parcel with her muff; and Lina hastily displayed the 
 real Psalm-book, which was not yet packed up at all. 
 
 "This is the one we've chosen; but we're not ready to 
 go away yet, please. I'm to go and look at the books 
 round about for a little." 
 
 She drew her stepmother away with her, and, turning 
 her back upon Alice and her doings, began an attentive 
 examination of some books of divinity in another part of 
 the shop. 
 
 " What is the object of this?" inquired Mrs. Hope.
 
 262 AN EXPLANATION. 
 
 The answer was given in a mysterious whisper. " A lire- 
 is going to choose my present now; and when she's done 
 she'll go away, and I'll get hers," said Lina. " We always 
 get eacli other books, because we know that's what we 
 always like best." 
 
 " But wouldn't it be simpler and better to choose for 
 yourselves?" 
 
 " Oh no ! that would be no surprise — not half so nice — 
 not a real New- Year's present." 
 
 " What if you both chose the same book, though 1 " 
 
 " I'll ask the man not to let us," said Lina ; " it 
 would never do to let that happen. You see, we keep 
 looking in the lists of books at the ends of the ones we 
 have, and find out the names of others written by the 
 authors we like ; and then we fix what we want that way. 
 So we might take the same one, you know ; but I'll take 
 care. I'm going to get Lally the ' Christmas -Stocking' 
 now, by the author of the 'Wide, Wide World;' and on 
 her birthday, if we're all spared and "well, and I've enough 
 money, I'm going to get her the ' Golden Ladder.' Lally's 
 birthday is in the middle of June." 
 
 " It is well to have your mind made up in time," said 
 Mrs. Hope. " But your affairs are not nearly finished yet, 
 then ! I have some other places to go to : I think I had 
 better leave you here, and call for you again in a little." 
 
 " Very well, mamma," said Lina. " You know we have 
 to get for Hugh and Charley yet, and we had better get 
 for them here." 
 
 So Mrs. Hope went away, leaving Lina still bending 
 over the commentaries, much divided in her mind between 
 uneasiness at being left in a strange shop alone, and sorrow 
 that her stepmother had not been sooner inspired with the 
 idea of departure. Had mamma only gone away entirely
 
 TROUBLE COiMES AGAIN. 263 
 
 at first, the children might have bought and concealed her 
 present with much more comfort and much less haste. 
 However, there was no use in regretting what could not 
 be helped ; so when Alice came to change places with her 
 sister, Lina went happily off on her secret business, — and 
 finding from the shopman, by judicious inquiry, that 
 Alice's plans and hers were fortunately not the same, Lina 
 got the " Christmas-Stocking," and had it wrapped up by 
 itself in another mysterious parcel. Then the two little 
 girls together purchased gifts for Hugh and Charley ; and 
 then Mrs. Hope, who had, doubtless, been doing some 
 private shopping of her own in the meantime, returned to 
 fetch them. After that they had one or two other places 
 to go to, but nowhere important ; and the short winter's 
 day was just beginning to decline when the tlrree had all 
 done their work and were driving back to the station. 
 
 Then it was that the troubles of the morning began to 
 gather round Lina again. Miss Harvey's unexpected pre- 
 sent had dispelled them all for the time — which was, to be 
 sure, very unreasonable ; for, though a person gives you a 
 present of five shillings, it does not follow that any dis- 
 agreeable things she may. have said about you are blotted 
 out for ever. And this was what Lina began now to feel, 
 when the work of the day was over, and she had time to 
 sit still and think. Miss Harvey had been kind at the 
 end ; but she had never retracted the dreadful words she 
 had uttered — she had never said that Alice and Lina were 
 perhaps not so ridiculously ignorant after all, or that they 
 might possibly improve without being sent to school. But 
 the worst thing of all was, that though Mrs. Hope had not 
 expressed her sentiments on the subject clearly, she had 
 certainly not appeared to disagree with her friend. 
 
 When they were waiting for the train at the station,
 
 261 LETTING THE FUTURE ALONE. 
 
 Lina sat and watched her stepmother, who was lying back 
 on the sofa in the waiting-room, deep in the first volume 
 of the novel she had got in the library. Would there be 
 any use asking her to solve the question, Lina wondered. 
 If Mrs. Hope were implored to tell what she meant to do 
 with the children, what sort of an answer would she give 1 
 Very probably she would only laugh, and say she would 
 like to see her daughters properly educated, just as she had 
 said she would like to see them properly gloved. This 
 was the conclusion Lina came to, with a sigh. 
 
 Well, but if it were so, was there no other way of being 
 well-educated, as mamma would doubtless prefer them to 
 be, or a credit to their " bookworm of a father," as Miss 
 Harvey had spoken about, but by spending long years at 
 some far-away boarding-school 1 
 
 Alice herself was not without some such ideas as these 
 that were troubling her sister during the time they spent 
 at the station ; but Alice was very stout-hearted, and was 
 always accustomed to fight, and generally succeeded in 
 driving away all anxieties about the future. She said to 
 herself that, now Miss Harvey was gone, let her ill-omened 
 words be forgotten. It was time enough to entertain the 
 horrible idea of going to school when it was seriously pre- 
 sented to her by her parents. Meanwhile she employed 
 herself in collecting and counting over the various parcels 
 which came one after another from the shops where they 
 had made their purchases. And she hugged fast her own 
 peculiar treasures — Bogatsky and the book for Lina ; and 
 resolved that she would look in the dictionary how to spell 
 the words before she wrote the inscriptions upon them. 
 
 But meanwhile Lina thought and thought, turning over 
 in her weary little brain all sorts of plans by which she 
 might learn to write the English language correctly, with-
 
 LIGHT HEARTS AND LIGHT PURSES. 265 
 
 out being sent away from home. She was still silently 
 pondering when they got into the train, and piled the 
 precious packages round about them. Away they whirled 
 out into the darkness, Mrs. Hope established under the 
 lamp to read, and Alice fidgeting about ; but Lina sat with 
 her face at the window, staring at the strange, weird reflec- 
 tion which went along beside them like a phantom carriage. 
 And at last an idea came to her — an idea that she took 
 up joyfully, and worked out heroically in the time that 
 followed. All to herself, and, as it were, in solitude, she 
 took her resolution ; and then she was able to lay her 
 anxieties to rest. She was ready now to turn from the 
 shadow to the substance, from the spectre travellers out- 
 side to her stepmother and Alice within. 
 
 " Don't keep quiet for me," said Mrs. Hope. "Talk as 
 much as you like, if you talk to each other." 
 
 So the two children conferred together about their pur- 
 chases, and where they were to be hidden for the present, 
 and how they were to be given when the time came. So 
 they returned home with hearts as light as their purses, 
 but with parcels innumerable, and an enormous budget of 
 news for the schoolroom tea-party. 
 
 And thus ended the memorable day which Alice and 
 Lina spent shopping in town.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MASTER AND PUPIL. 
 
 |HAT'S the matter, Lina 1 ? Come here imme- 
 diately and tell me," said Hugh, in an authori- 
 tative tone. 
 
 It was the first day of the Christmas holidays, and late 
 in the afternoon. Fraulein had shut herself up in her own 
 room to rest; Alice and Charley were holding revel up- 
 stairs ; and Hugh, with all the sofa-cushions arranged 
 around him, lounged in the arm-chair by the schoolroom 
 fire. All were enjoying themselves according to their 
 several tastes ; but things did not seem to be going 
 equally well with Lina. Long and silently she had been 
 poring over a big book in her lap ; and at last Hugh, 
 catching signs of a very weary, perplexed look on her face, 
 was moved to watch her as she read. Then he saw that 
 she was studying diligently, her lips moving sometimes as 
 if she were repeating something to herself ; but every now 
 and then tears would come to her eyes, and though she 
 wiped them hastily away other ones always followed. 
 When Hugh spoke she started, and began rubbing her 
 face with her handkerchief more vehemently than ever. 
 
 " What is the matter with you 1 " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, nothing," Lina answered hastily, in a 
 choked voice. 
 
 " Don't tell lies, but come here and show me that book j"
 
 WHAT LINA WAS STUDYING. 2G7 
 
 and Hugh enforced kis words by stretching out a very 
 long arm and seizing one of his cousin's locks. To save 
 herself pain, Lina had to do what he bade her ; and when 
 she was quite close to him, Hugh only let go her hair to 
 put his arm firmly about her neck. Thus pinioned, resist- 
 ance was useless, and Lina therefore yielded up her book 
 into his other hand. It was the beginning of an English 
 dictionary which the little girl had been studying. 
 
 " Please give it me back, Hugh. I want to learn the 
 first page before tea, and I'm not nearly done. The words 
 jumble up so in my head." 
 
 " What in the world set you to this 1 " 
 
 ''You see, I spell so badly," said Lina, with pathetic 
 humility. " I am going to work very hard in the holidays, 
 and try if I can't make myself better." 
 
 " You won't teach yourself to spell in a couple of 
 weeks ! " 
 
 "No; but I hope I'll be able to do some good. I must 
 work afterwards, you know, but then I won't have so 
 much time ! " 
 
 Lina bent her head over the dictionary again, though 
 Hugh w r as holding her and it fast. 
 
 " You do certainly spell in a most extraordinary way," 
 said he, reflectively. " That list of yours was a strange 
 specimen ; not one word was right from beginning to end. 
 How is it that you don't know better 1 " 
 
 " I don't know. Nurse taught us our English letters, 
 and little words; and we finished learning to read by our- 
 selves — picking stories out of books. But nurse didn't 
 make us spell, and we didn't make ourselves. Then the 
 old Fr'aulein came and taught us writing, and music, and 
 geography, and sums, and thinss ; but all in German. She 
 was very cross."
 
 268 A SPELLING LESSON. 
 
 " Can you write German, then, properly ] " asked Hugh. 
 
 Lina shook her head again sadly. " I'm afraid not. 
 Better than Euglish, though ; and Fraulein says we're im- 
 proving. But the old Fraulein taught us to read German 
 and French just by the look of the words in the book ; we 
 never knew exactly what letters went to make them. 
 That was her way, she said." 
 
 " And a very bad way," said Hugh, with decision. " No 
 wonder you can't spell. Then the upshot of the whole 
 is that you can read three languages, and not write one. 
 Your education has been conducted in a strange fashion, 
 Miss South Carolina." 
 
 Lina made no attempts to defend her instructors, or to 
 try to prove that there might be some advantages in the 
 system they had pursued with her. Her cousin had 
 loosened his hold round her neck, so she slipped down in 
 a sitting posture on the rug, and fell to work with her 
 dictionary again. But, with that dejected little figure by 
 his side, Hugh could not get on comfortably with his own 
 book ; and presently he interrupted her once more. 
 
 " Let me hear how much you know. Give me the ' die,' 
 and I'll give you out the words to spell." 
 
 " Thank you," said Lina gratefully, but rather afraid of 
 being laughed at. However, Hugh was perfectly grave, 
 as he sat up, dictionary in hand, to hear her task. 
 
 " A-back." 
 
 " A-b-a-c-k," spelled Lina ; then asked : " But, Hugh, 
 wouldn't you better begin at the first 1 " 
 
 Hugh read aloud, with contemptuous emphasis, "A, the 
 indefinite article ; you can scarely make a mistake in that, 
 surely. Aaronic, relating to the priesthood of Aaron ; 
 well, you won't Likely need that word very much ; but give 
 it to us if you Like." 

 
 lina's grief. 269 
 
 Lina got through it successfully, and afterwards some 
 half-dozen other words, — Hugh repeating after each, in 
 laconic fashion, " Eight ! " 
 
 But when she came to abase, she made a stop, then a 
 trembling, flurried attempt, which resulted in the introduc- 
 tion of a c instead of an s. 
 
 "Wrong !" said Hugh. 
 
 Lina tried again ; still retaining her c, but inserting an 
 extra b this time. 
 
 "Wrong!" 
 
 " Hugh, I don't know what it is !" she cried in dis- 
 tress. 
 
 Her tutor condescended then to tell her, and they went 
 on. But the check had made Lina nervous. If anything 
 more of the lesson she had set herself had ever entered her 
 mind, it had certainly departed now. Again and again 
 she tried at the words which followed, and every new effort 
 was received by the same chilling monosyllable from her 
 cousin. After a long struggle with abbacy, during which 
 she grew quite bewildered, and effected the strangest com- 
 bination of letters, Lina's courage all left her. She put her 
 head in her lap, and clasped her hands round her knees, 
 and burst out crying. 
 
 " Come, we're not half through the first page," said 
 Hugh. " You're not going to give in, surely !" 
 
 But Lina only cried the harder. Hugh was sorry for 
 her ; all the more so, because she and Alice were so little 
 given to tears. But he did not know what to do. He 
 thought it would perhaps be best not to try to do anything 
 for a time, and give her a chance to calm down gradually. 
 However, Lina's grief seemed to become only more violent 
 as time went on; and at last Hugh was moved to make 
 some attempts at consolation.
 
 270 HOW A LITTLE GIRL FAILED IN HER TASK. 
 
 " Don't blubber that way, old woman ; don't. It's not 
 a life-and-death business. For the matter of that, you're 
 not the only one that can't spell. Why, I've known great 
 big fellows at school write the rummiest words in their 
 exercises." 
 
 Then, as his little cousin still sobbed on, the boy's manner 
 changed ; and there came over his face the hard expression, 
 and into his voice the cynical tone, which made him seem 
 at times more of an old man than a child. 
 
 " Don't go on in that way, Lina ; there's no use. There's 
 nothing in all the world worth crying for like that." 
 
 "But there is!" said Lina, the words struggling forth 
 vehemently through her sobs. " Our work — it's our dear 
 work !" 
 
 It seemed to poor Lina, as it had seemed on that autumn 
 day three months ago, that she and her sister were being 
 shut out of the Lord's vineyard. It was nurse's opposi- 
 tion then, it was their own ignorance of the English lan- 
 guage now, which was shutting the door upon them. Once 
 again Lina had struggled against her fate, and once again 
 she had failed ; and surely it would be presumption on her 
 part to look for another such remarkable manifestation of 
 Divine help as had cleared the way for the children last 
 time. 
 
 Poor little blind and weary girl ! After all, was she 
 any weaker in faith, any more ingenious in self-tormenting, 
 than grown-up Christians often are 1 
 
 She had begun her task so bravely that afternoon, then 
 failed so completely! She had made up her mind to go 
 through the dictionary dining the holidays, at the rate of 
 several pages a day; and now, after what she considered 
 long and hard study, she had been unable to master the 
 spelling of half a column. " And they'll send us to school,"
 
 MASTER AND PUPIL. 271 
 
 Lina managed at last to tell Hugh ; " and it'll bi'eak my 
 heart. For it's not only the going away ; it's the leaving 
 our work — it's the leaving Nelly without any teachers any 
 more for ever ! " 
 
 It was only after considerable time and difficulty that 
 Hugh managed fully to understand his cousin's trouble, 
 ;ind traced the source of it back to Miss Harvey, and the 
 advice she had given. For a while he meditated over the 
 whole thing in perfect silence ; but the mere revelation of 
 her anxieties had comforted Lina, and though she wept on 
 still, it was not so despairingly. " I don't believe Aunt 
 Lottie means to send you to school," said Hugh at last. 
 ,c I think she really rather likes you; and the house would 
 certainly be much duller for her if you and Fraulein and 
 all were cleared out. But about the spelling — we'll try a 
 new plan ; dry your eyes, and I'll help you." 
 
 Lina did as she was told, and looked up with a smile, 
 though it was a very faint and watery one. 
 
 " In one of the shelves of the bookcase isn't there an old 
 primer?" 
 
 "Yes; but it's for Nelly." 
 
 " Better learn it yourself before you teach Nelly," said 
 Hugh dryly. 
 
 It was a bitter mortification for Lina to fetch out the 
 easy little lesson-book from among the articles laid aside 
 for her own pupil ; but in her honest wish to learn she 
 overcame even this. She brought the book meekly to 
 Hugh, and took the scholar's place — literally seating her- 
 self at her master's feet. 
 
 " We'd better begin at the very beginning, and see 
 exactly how much you know," was Hugh's proposal; and 
 so he put her mercilessly through words of two and three 
 letters. But Lina's pride need not have been wounded
 
 272 HARD WORK FOR LINA. 
 
 thereby, for whenever she was taken further she began to 
 trip. Hugh took out a pencil and marked every place 
 where she failed, returning to it again and again, and drill- 
 ing her vigorously till she was able at last to get over it 
 with ease. Then, to make assurance doubly sure, he com- 
 posed short original sentences with the troublesome words 
 introduced, and gave them to her as a dictation lesson. 
 These Lina managed to write correctly (it must be con- 
 fessed they were very easy), and she was quite encouraged 
 by her own success. 
 
 "Will you help me again, Hugh?" she asked, when the 
 arrival of the tea-kettle brought her studies to a close. 
 
 " Yes," he answered graciously, and looked down well- 
 pleased at the grateful little face, from which all traces of 
 tears had very nearly vanished. " We've done some busi- 
 ness this afternoon, I think. You'll get on, I expect, 
 Lina. You're really not at all stupid, old woman. And 
 you've a great advantage in being able to write dictation; 
 but you must grind hard by yourself, remember. I'm not 
 going to do all the work for you." 
 
 " Oil, I'll work hard, I promise," said Lina ; and she 
 kept her word. During the holidays the children were 
 much in the drawing-room, and busy with work for the 
 Christmas-tree; but, nevertheless, Lina found time to study, 
 and study diligently. The little spelling-book went about 
 in her pocket, and was produced at all leisure moments, 
 wherever or whenever they might occur. 
 
 Nor was Hugh less faithful to his part of the bargain. 
 He proved a very strict teacher ; but he grudged no pains, 
 and his brain was fertile in devising expedients for the 
 improvement of his pupil. Sometimes, if he was in a very 
 good humour, he would even consent to play at school — 
 a game which is ever popular with children under twelve.
 
 PLEASANT POWER. 273 
 
 Hugh was invariably pedagogue; and while he made the 
 occupation lively by imitating one or another of his own 
 old masters, he contrived to give Alice, Lina, and Charley 
 very real lessons in English and spelling. And when his 
 own peculiar scholar every clay showed her superiority 
 more and more, and kept the top of the mimic class, the 
 boy scarcely made an attempt to conceal his satisfaction. 
 Most young people rather like teaching and patronizing 
 smaller members of the family — at least, at times — but 
 to Hugh this sort of power was peculiarly pleasant. It 
 was not only that he felt so old and wise when he and his 
 docile pupil sat down together to their studies. Hugh was 
 accustomed to being considered remarkably clever, and 
 though the implicit trust and respectful admiration written 
 in Lina's eyes were sweet to him, they had not the charm 
 'of novelty. His school-companions and Charley had be- 
 lieved in him too. But none of them ever had cuddled up 
 beside him on the sofa, and read from the same book, with 
 arms entwined in his. None of them had ever spoken to 
 him in the caressing tone which his little girl-cousin used 
 to testify her gratitude. Indeed, Hugh had never given 
 them opportunity to do so, for it had not been his way to 
 show kindness or affection to any one. 
 
 " Hugh, can I not do anything to help you 1" Lina asked 
 him one day, when he had spent a particularly long time 
 over her spelling-lesson. "You do so much for me." 
 
 " Trash, — nonsense ! " he said, pretending to turn away 
 to his own book in disdain. 
 
 " But, Hugh," Lina went on timidly, " couldn't I per- 
 haps help you with your German 1 " 
 
 "No, no; I'm going to let German alone till after the 
 holidays." 
 
 The truth was, that Hugh's pride would not allow him to 
 
 18
 
 J 7 1 WORKING A CHARM . 
 
 take advantage of the proposal. For him to sit in his turn 
 as learner at Lina's feet, was not to be thought of. Why, 
 he might make mistakes in German as laughable as those 
 in English spelling which he teased Lina about so unmerci- 
 fully. Hugh loved knowledge, but not well enough to 
 consent to gaining it openly from his little cousin's store. 
 The refusal pained Lina, who was very anxious to do some- 
 thing to help him, in fulfilment of the vow she had made 
 weeks before. It seemed to her now that all the obligation 
 lay on her side; but in her humility she came to think 
 that she had been hoping too much when she fancied it 
 possible she could give aid to one so much above herself in 
 age and attainments. 
 
 Little did Lina know that, in drawing the sensitive, self- 
 conceited boy out of himself into her affairs and her inter- 
 ests, she was doing him the greatest service any one could 
 render him. Never had the indefinable barrier which 
 separated poor Hugh from his fellow-creatures seemed so 
 slight as it did those Christmas holidays. The unusual 
 occupation of doing good to some one else humanized him 
 more than anything had ever done before. Hugh took to 
 reading less and talking more ; and instead of smiling sar- 
 castically at the witticisms of others, he made jokes and 
 puns of his own, which were intensely appreciated by the 
 schoolroom party. 
 
 Moreover, with fingers clever as a woman's, he made 
 walnut-shell thimble-cases, carved book-marks of perforated 
 card-board, tied ribbons and framed photographs, his zeal 
 untiring, and his skill and patience infinitely greater than 
 those of the other workers for the Christmas-tree. In the 
 drawing-room Mrs. Hope pronounced him invaluable ; and 
 when the children pursued then- labours in the schoolroom, 
 Hugh would choose a book for some one to read aloud — or,
 
 A MARVELLOUS STORY-TELLER. 275 
 
 bettor still, he himself would tell a story. Hugh was a 
 marvellous story-teller; and until those Christmas holidays 
 Alice and Lina had been quite ignorant of this talent of 
 his, — and even for Charley's delectation it had been exer- 
 cised but seldom. Now, many an hour flew by with rapid 
 wings while Hugh related magic tales to a ' rapt audience 
 in the Hopefield schoolroom. Sometimes it was the old 
 Greek stories he would tell them, — of the Centaurs, or the 
 snaky - haired Gorgons, or Procrustes and his wonderful 
 bed. Sometimes it was some book of modern adventures 
 he had read ; or perhaps even part of a novel, arranged and 
 adapted to suit the narrator's own fancy, or the compre- 
 hension and tastes of his hearers. But I think what the 
 children liked best was when Hugh gave the rein to his 
 own imagination, and went off into the wildest nonsense, 
 unrestrained in his story by any consideration of reason 
 or probability. Then they would gaze at him with eyes 
 and mouth open, listening in breathless interest. And 
 when he had done, Hugh would laugh with well-feigned 
 contempt, and observe, by way of apology to himself, that 
 it was " wonderful what stuff would go down with the 
 Hope children and Charley." But it was certain that the 
 production of these tales afforded immense enjoyment to 
 the cynical young gentleman himself. 
 
 The children enjoyed such unwonted freedom during 
 these holidays, that had Hugh not taken the management 
 of affairs, liberty would certainly have degenerated into 
 license. Fraulein received and accepted an invitation to 
 spend a couple of weeks in the house where one of her 
 sisters was governess and housekeeper to an orphan family, 
 and departed accordingly some days before Christmas. Mrs. 
 Hope was kind and merry; and with that wonderful Capa- 
 city of suiting herself to her company which is perhaps the
 
 276 ACTING AS LEADER. 
 
 greatest charm any woman can possess, she entered into 
 the children's pursuits with as much apparent pleasure as 
 she had listened to Miss Harvey's gossip. But even if she 
 had wished to have the young people with her always 
 (which is very unlikely), such a state of things would have 
 made her husband intensely miserable, so that the children 
 were left for hours to their own resources, and ran a great 
 risk of yielding themselves to discontent and mischief ; for 
 Jessie had never possessed any influence over them at all, 
 and nurse's authority had become a thing which it was a 
 point of honour to resist. Then it was that Hugh came 
 forward and took the leader's place, drawn, though both 
 were unconscious of the fact, by the loving hands of the 
 little girl he had been kind to. Great peace and concord, 
 as well as thorough and keen enjoyment, reigned in the 
 schoolroom, while he portioned out work to willing slaves, 
 or improvised tales of marvels for eager disciples. And 
 Christmas presents and ornaments for the tree were fin- 
 ished fast, and laid aside, day by day. 
 
 It must not be thought, meanwhile, that the children 
 forgot to visit the Lodge, or were in any way neglectful of 
 Nelly or her mother. It was for Nelly's sake that Lina 
 studied her spelling-book, copied out extracts, and wrote 
 dictation. She hoped that her diligence would prevent the 
 necessity of being separated from her pupil in the meantime, 
 and also prepare her for being able to teach Nelly better in 
 the future. And though Alice did not share in her sister's 
 studies, her solicitude about their child's welfare was us 
 great as ever, though it did not take the same direction as 
 Lina's did. Alice thought it was mere waste of time to 
 prepare either for evil or for good that might come in the 
 future ; the work of the present was sufficient for her. 
 
 Through frost and cold and snow she found her way
 
 WHAT ALICE READ ABOUT. 277 
 
 almost every afternoon to the Lodge to teach and play with 
 Nelly and read aloud to Nelly's mother. It was wonderful 
 how wise and womanly this wild Alice could be in Mrs. 
 Veitch's little room, while she talked to the sick woman and 
 the little child. And, in spite of the ungracious reception 
 her first efforts in that way had met with, she once and 
 again succeeded in introducing into the cottage various 
 dainties which might tempt an invalid's appetite. It was 
 Alice, too, who obtained from Mrs. Hope the work that 
 Helen Russell had asked for. It was not the night-dresses, 
 to be sure, but it was something even better — an unlimited 
 order for muslin embroidery. So Nelly's mother sat at the 
 window, now busy over narrow strips of white work ; and 
 on the table, where the heaps of cotton had been cleared 
 away, Alice would put the Bible, so as to get the most of 
 the short light of these wintry days. Then Nelly would 
 crush close up to her teacher's side and pretend to follow 
 on the book, while Alice read how the baby Prince of 
 Peace grew up into the Good Physician, the Teacher sent 
 from God, the Christ who had to suffer before he entered 
 into his glory. And never had the glad tidings come to 
 Alice herself with such power as now in the cottage-kitchen 
 over these blessed stories of the sick that were healed by a 
 word; of the finding of the lost sheep, and the prodigal's 
 welcome home ; of the gate of paradise opening to let in a 
 penitent thief. 
 
 Sometimes Nelly's mother would sit in absolute silence ; 
 but at other times, when the mood was on her, she would 
 talk with feverish eagerness, and with an utter abandon- 
 ment of all reserve. It was with Alice, and Alice alone, 
 that this ever happened ; and it was generally of by-gone 
 days and the little girls' mother that she talked. Vain 
 and wasted seemed Helen Russell's own life, which she
 
 278 STREETS OF GOLD. 
 
 once fancied was to be bright and beautiful. The man she 
 loved had deceived and deserted her; and she herself, who, 
 in her early di-eams of a romantic future, would ever rise 
 superior to all evil fortune, had sunk, soured and bafilcd, 
 under the weight of trouble which had come upon her. 
 But the brightness of one, at least, of the ideals of her girl- 
 hood, had remained undimmed. And it seemed to her a 
 comfort to dwell on the remembrance of a beauty which 
 had passed away from earth with the dew of its youth 
 about it, and of a brave, generous heart whose sweetness 
 had never been warped by the carking cares of worldly 
 sorrow. 
 
 Once, after the Gospel of St. Luke was finished, Alice 
 had been reading the last chapters of the Revelation : it 
 was a favourite portion with the little girl herself, and she 
 went with intense zest into the description of the glories of 
 the New Jerusalem. And Nelly's mother for once did not 
 even make a pretence of working. " Gates of pearls and 
 streets of gold," said Helen Russell with eager eyes ; " ay, 
 and the Tree of Life and the River of God. My lady's 
 there, among the angels — it's never hard to think on her 
 in the beautiful place — but oh, Miss Hope, all that's not 
 fit for a poor creature like me ! " 
 
 " The Holy Spirit can make you and me fit," said Alice 
 then — "just as fit as my mother was. Some people must 
 give him more trouble than others, though ; but I don't 
 think he grudges it." 
 
 The child was thinking only of herself and her own sins; 
 but the woman by her side looked at her, and listened 
 hungrily, and Alice read on, — 
 
 "The Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him 
 that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. 
 And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 HE distribution of presents began next morning 
 early ; for Alice and Lina, having hurried on only 
 such clothing as delicacy required, were rushing 
 hither and thither with their gifts before it was daylight. 
 Jessie, endeavouring to remonstrate, was speedily overcome 
 by the little red needle-book, amid shouts of Christmas good 
 wishes, which quite drowned her suggestions about going 
 back to bed. Nor was nurse herself more successful in 
 her attempts to stop the children's career through the 
 house, though the white apron and the muffatees could not 
 pacify her fears of early morning draughts and chills. Alice 
 and Lina rushed on to their cousins' room, where Hugh 
 and Charley were speedily wakened by the pocket-book 
 and the penknife flung at their heads. Happily, Alice's 
 aim was not unerring, so the boys were not hurt, but able 
 to sit up to examine their gifts ; while the givers, staying 
 not a moment to observe the effect, went on dispensing 
 presents in all directions. Not a creature in the house 
 had been forgotten; even Toodlekins and the birds shared 
 in their benevolence. 
 
 Out of consideration for their stepmother's fatigues of the 
 evening before, they left her to the last. But after they 
 had visited the kitchen regions ; after they had attended 
 to the claims of pussy, Polly, and the canaries ; after they
 
 280 A PRESENT FOR MAMMA. 
 
 had conquered in another skirmish with nurse, Alice and 
 Lina came to the conclusion that the time was now come 
 for the presentation of Bogatsky. Mr. Hope, who was 
 always early in the library, had already received his pocket- 
 book, as he had done on previous Christmas mornings. 
 But, as the children said to each other, they had never had 
 a mamma before to give anything to ! 
 
 Time had been passing meanwhile ; and it was drawing 
 near the breakfast-hour when Alice and Lina sought admit- 
 tance into their stepmother's room. Mrs. Hope was up 
 and nearly dressed, sitting before the glass arranging those 
 wonderful plaits of hers : her dressing-gown was dainty in 
 soft colour and embroidery, and all the nick-nacks and 
 necessaries of her toilet-table were marvels of art and luxury 
 in the children's eyes. Indeed, even Lottie Ashley, a girl 
 with no particular home and not much money, had always 
 contrived to have things pretty about her ; how much 
 more then Mrs. Hope, who had wealth at her disposal, and 
 might gratify her tastes without troubling to contrive ways 
 and means ! 
 
 " A merry Christmas ! " said Alice. 
 
 " And many of them ! " added Lina. 
 
 " Here's a Bogatsky," resumed Alice. 
 
 " With both of our loves," Lina finished up. 
 
 Then the two fell upon their stepmother's neck, and 
 hugged her and kissed her, pulling down some of the pretty 
 plaits, and rumpling all the collar of the dressing-gown. 
 She bore it very good-naturedly, however, and gave thanks 
 for her present in no stinted manner, reading the inscrip- 
 tion at the beginning, and kissing the givers, and admiring 
 Hugh's mark, which had been placed at the text for the day. 
 
 " We didn't know whether you would like to begin read- 
 ing just now, or wait and begin with the New Year at the
 
 THE MISTRESS OF HOPEFIELD. 281 
 
 beginning of the book. "We thought you had better do ;ik 
 you like," the children said. 
 
 But they turned back as they went towards the door, 
 watching what she would do; so Mrs. Hope, to please 
 them, began to read. She was conscientious about it too, 
 for after they had left her she read on, and finished text, 
 and remarks, and hymn before she took up her hair-brush 
 again. " He shall save his people from their sins," was 
 the text which Mrs. Hope read for Christmas morning ; 
 and doubtless the promise of such a deliverance was not so 
 welcome to her as to the broken-hearted woman at the 
 Lodge, on whom sins as well as sorrows pressed so heavily. 
 
 The mistress of Hopefield, with scarcely an earthly wish 
 ungratified, with youth and health to enjoy her life, amidst 
 the universal favour which met her on all sides, had never 
 felt any deep consciousness of wrong within. The glad 
 tidings could bring no great joy to her who had never 
 found out she needed a Saviour. Her heart was full 
 without him ; and perhaps it was realizing this made her 
 look grave and thoughtful for a little after she had laid 
 down the unpretending old-fashioned text-book, and set to 
 work again with deft fingers binding up her hair. How- 
 ever that may have been, the shade was gone from her face 
 enth-ely when the childi'en saw her again at breakfast. 
 Alice and Lina were late, after all; for when Jessie captured 
 them, and commenced a tidying process, it turned out that 
 the children's own hasty toilet operations of the early 
 morning proved rather a hindrance than a help to the 
 serious business of dressing. So every one was seated at 
 table when they entered the dining-room. 
 
 " You two aren't hungry, are you 1 " cried Charley as 
 they appeared. " There's no room for any more on your 
 plates."
 
 282 GIFTS FOR THE CHILDREN. 
 
 " If you eat all you've got, you'll have enough, I think," 
 said Hugh. 
 
 But the boys' jokes were scarcely heard by Alice and 
 Lina, as they hurried to the table to examine the gifts 
 which were arranged for them there. In the middle of 
 each of their plates lay a gold locket and chain; flanked on 
 one side by a delicious-looking box, apparently containing 
 chocolate creams, and on the other by a letter addressed in 
 Fraulein's large, uneven English writing. Nor were these 
 all the joys which awaited the children, for outside the 
 plates lay books, — a German one, which had come through 
 the post along with the letters ; and all the three volumes 
 of " Leila," with a fine flourishing inscription on the first, 
 stating that they were a gift " To A. and L. Hope, from 
 their affectionate cousin, Hugh Mackenzie." 
 
 "The locket is from papa and me," said Mrs. Hope, 
 when the exclamations of joy and surprise had subsided a 
 little. 
 
 " From you, you mean," said Alice. " Papa would 
 never have thought of such a thing. He gives us money 
 sometimes on birthdays, and Christmas Day, when he re- 
 members." 
 
 " Nobody but mamma could have thought of anything 
 so nice as a locket," cried Lina ecstatically. 
 
 " And nobody but Charley could have thought of any- 
 thing so nice as chocolate creams," said that young man, 
 with an effrontery so daring, that even his brother Hugh — 
 who had insisted on the gift, suggested the nature thereof, 
 and advanced the money to pay for it — could not help 
 admiring him. 
 
 " You're a good Charley ! " said the unsuspicious Lina, 
 running round the table to hug him, and offer him the 
 first taste out of the box.
 
 BLISS BY DEGREES. 283 
 
 " But where did you get the money 1 " said Alice. " I'd 
 like to know that ! " 
 
 " Oh, oh ! don't eat them, Alice, if you think they're 
 stolen — just give them here to me," said Charley, his 
 mouth already full of chocolate. 
 
 " Never mind him ; they're all right and paid for,'' put 
 in Hugh. " Don't give him any. If they hadn't been 
 locked up last night, he'd have eaten them all." 
 
 " Well ! was I to give them presents when I thought 
 they were giving me none 1 It's all very well for you who 
 are as rich as a Jew, but / can't afford that sort of thing!" 
 
 But Alice and Lina were only realizing their bliss by 
 degrees, as they examined one treasure after another with 
 exclamations of delight. " Oh ! what a Fraulein, to send 
 both of us a letter ! and a story-book— and oh, such a fat 
 one ! And the Leilas — the Leilas ! Hugh, how did you 
 know we wanted them 1 We were going to have saved 
 up for the first volume after Christmas, when all our pre- 
 sents were bought — and you have given vis them all three ! 
 Mamma, have you read them 1 Leila in the Island ; Leila 
 in England; Leila at Home. Oh, what glorious books! 
 We were wanting them so, Hugh ! But how could you 
 have known it 1 " 
 
 " How could I help knowing it 1 " returned he, in his 
 ungracious way. "You chatter out everything; you are 
 always talking." 
 
 " But you are always reading, Hugh, and don't hear." 
 
 " I hear all I want to, and sometimes more," he said ; 
 whereat Lina looked rather troubled. 
 
 Mrs. Hope had been watching and smiling meanwhile, 
 amused and pleased with the children's pleasure ; but when 
 Alice and Lina, having read Friiulein's good wishes, and 
 fastened the lockets round their necks, sank down un the
 
 284 A SILENT PARTY. 
 
 carpet, intending to devote themselves there and then to 
 chocolate and stories, she thought it time to interfere. 
 
 " Come and have your breakfast just now, and take your 
 books to the sehoolroom afterwards, and read as much as 
 you like. Come ; we are almost done." 
 
 " We are not hungry," they said, " for anything but 
 chocolate." 
 
 " Nonsense. Put aside your things, and you will see. 
 Would you like some coffee instead of porridge % " 
 
 They came to the table rather reluctantly ; but once 
 roused, they awoke to the fact that they were veiy hungry, 
 and made an excellent festival breakfast on the fare which 
 was generally reserved exclusively for their elders ; indeed, 
 Alice's performances in despatching first bacon and then 
 beef became matter of history afterwards. 
 
 The party in the schoolroom was a very silent one that 
 morning, for even Charley was deep in a book — Ballan- 
 tyne's newest — of which he had been made the happy 
 possessor that morning. Alice was the first to return to 
 the ordinary world — uncoiling herself from out of the arm- 
 chair, and stretching her arms with a long sigh, as the 
 clock struck twelve. The others were lying about in 
 positions chosen rather for ease than grace — Lina and 
 Hugh at each side of the sofa, nestling down in the 
 corners; and Charley flat on the floor under the table, with 
 only his head to be seen. When Alice moved, Hugh too 
 looked up, and asked rather sharply, " Well, is the Leila 
 as good as you expected 1 " 
 
 " Splendid ! Shall I give her to you for a little, Hugh?" 
 " No, thanks. I don't like children's story-books." 
 " How funny ! We can never get enough of them." 
 " You seem to have tired of that one pretty soon." 
 '•' Tired ! " Alice's look of astonishment and indignation
 
 INCLINATION, OR DUTY '( 285 
 
 was enough in itself to allay any suspicions Hugh might 
 have about the success of his gift. " Tired ! I never could 
 get tired of reading it. But I'm going to the West Lodge. 
 Come, Lina." 
 
 However, Lina resisted the attempt to shake her out of 
 her German story, — pushing Alice away with her elbow, 
 and never lifting her eyes from the book, while she 
 grumbled out remonstrances in the language she was 
 reading. 
 
 " Speak English in the holidays, and come along. We'll 
 scai'cely have time to be back to dinner." 
 
 " O Lally ! leave me alone. It's so interesting." 
 
 " Shall I leave you alone, to be lazy and selfish, and 
 break your promise to me — and go out of the vineyard — 
 and not take Nelly her things'?" said Alice, still pushing 
 and pulling at her sister. 
 
 " Yes, please," answered Lina, conscious of scai'cely any- 
 thing but the charms of her story-book. 
 
 Poor Alice was sorely put to it ; for the boys joined in 
 on Lina's side — Hugh bidding her go off by herself and not 
 martyrize other people, and Charley looking up with an 
 indignant request that she would shut up and let a fellow 
 read in peace. Alice sunk down then on the floor at her 
 sister's feet, staring at her with indignant eyes, waiting in 
 expectation that Nelly's teacher would awake to a sense of 
 her duty. But this Lina did not do. Only, with a feeling 
 of pleasure at being freed from disturbance, she sank back 
 again still deeper into the depths of the sofa corner and her 
 story, from which she had been only partially aroused. She 
 knew not that she was being watched by two pair of eyes 
 — Alice's, growing always brighter as expectation changed 
 into anger; and Hugh's, keen and cold in their amusement 
 and curiosity. Long time Alice sat and waited, — seven
 
 286 what alick's energy did. 
 
 long minutes by the clock, — and then she rose and went 
 At the door, however, she paused, and turned round in 
 •wrathful gravity on her unconscious sister, who was 
 smiling peacefully over her story-book. 
 
 " I'm going alone, then, Lina ; and you can stay at home 
 and read, and stay out of the vineyard, and break your 
 promise. Nelly's mother won't have the hymns sung 
 to her properly to-day, for I can't do it ; but she'll soon be 
 in heaven, where the angels will sing to her all day long if 
 she likes. They'll sing better than you, and know a great 
 many more hymns — so she must wait for that. But if the 
 Lord comes for you this forenoon, and finds you there on 
 the sofa, I don't know what you can possibly say !" 
 
 There was no withstanding Alice's energy, and the 
 intense realism of her religious convictions. Her sister's 
 voice reached Lina where she was, far away in Fairyland, 
 and she stopped and turned with a start. When the 
 speech was followed by a decisive clap of the door closing 
 behind Alice, Lina sat for a few minutes in rapid self- 
 recollection, her cheeks growing ever a deeper crimson as 
 thoughts and faculties were employed again on the real 
 and the present. Her morbidly conscientious mind looked 
 back with horror and remorse on the state of placid self- 
 indulgence she had been so unwilling to quit. What if 
 Nelly's mother had been dying while she was trifling away 
 her time over a story-book, and her obstinate selfishness 
 should be the cause of one of the sick woman's last wishes 
 remaining ungratified ! Then the angels would sing to 
 Helen Russell, as Alice had said ; but could the owner of 
 the earthly voice, who had refused to use it for her benefit, 
 feel anything but shame and contrition at the thought that 
 she needed this world's hymns no longer ? In unconscious 
 jiaraphra.se of words which had struck her lately in her
 
 A TOUCH OF CALM. 287 
 
 reading of English history, Lina said in her heart that God 
 might forgive her, but she never could forgive herself. 
 
 Down went the book, and Lina rushed after Alice, her 
 mind too full of prayers that she might still be in time at 
 the Lodge to have any room to spare for thoughts about 
 making peace with her sister. 
 
 The two went down the west avenue together in silence, 
 running indeed too fast for speech. But when they arrived 
 panting at Mrs. Veitch's door, no terrible news awaited 
 them. 
 
 Helen Russell lay on the bed in an attitude of unusual 
 restfulness ; and when her mother said she had had a " real 
 good night," Lina could not help wondering whether the 
 angels had not forestalled the children's mission after all, 
 and come again themselves to sing of peace and good-will 
 toward men. Perhaps in the dark, quiet hours Nelly's 
 mother had heard them and rejoiced, and the night had 
 grown light about her, as it did to the shepherds eighteen 
 hundred years ago. Lina gazed with awe on her as one 
 who had already passed into that strange border-land where 
 past and present, seen and unseen, are all blended together. 
 Helen Russell had changed since Alice and Lina had seen 
 her last. It was not the deathly look that had come into 
 her face ; that had been there before, at times ; but now 
 over it and the sadness there had come a touch of calm, — 
 not peace, but the hope of peace, expectation as well as 
 desire of rest. She was very silent, and took little appa- 
 rent notice of the children who stood by her bed and sang 
 hymn after hymn in their sweet, untrained childish voices. 
 Nelly had been sent down to the gardener's cottage, to let 
 out her exuberant spirits among the little ones there, so 
 her teachers left their gifts in her grandmother's keeping, 
 with a message of love for her. As they were going away,
 
 288 A child's PICTURE OF nEAVEN. 
 
 Helen Russell raised herself to bid thein good-bye, and hei 
 voice was very gentle and composed when she thanked 
 them, and asked them to come soon again. 
 
 " She won't need us much longer," said Alice, when they 
 had gone out of the door. 
 
 Lina was crying. " I don't know that she needs us even 
 now," she said ; " but I'm so glad I went— I mean, that 
 you made me go. I'm so glad God let me be in time after 
 all." 
 
 " Well, it was well for you," her sister answered gravely. 
 
 " Yes ; but oh, Lally, it seems wrong and terrible that 
 we should be so happy, and getting ready for the Christmas- 
 tree and the fun, while she's lying there dying." 
 
 " Won't it be far nicer in heaven than down here, Lina 1 
 And Nelly's mother will see the real Tree of Life by the 
 side of the beautiful river. I should think our mother will 
 take her about and show her all the things. Our mother 
 must know them well by this time ; and she'll be as glad 
 to do it as we'll be to show our Christmas-tree to Nelly. 
 Our mother will explain to her all about the twelve manner 
 of fruits, and the leaves for the healing of the nations. 
 Don't you remember, the Tree of Life's on each side of the 
 river? There must be whole rows of them planted in the 
 New Jerusalem ! Oh, heaven must be a very jolly place!" 
 
 Alice was a diligent student of the Book of Revelation, 
 which she interpreted in the most literal sense, and from 
 which she derived intense satisfaction. She gave a joyful 
 jump as she thought of its glories now ; and though Lina 
 was a little startled to hear the celestial city characterized 
 as a jolly place, the idea comforted her nevertheless, and 
 she dried her teai-s.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ONE EVENING, AND ITS PLEASURES. 
 
 HE children returned home that Christmas morn- 
 ing full of the thought that Nelly's mother was 
 very nearly done with earth ; but during the 
 next few days she rallied wonderfully, — coming back, as it 
 were, from the very gates of death, to wait here a little 
 longer. 
 
 The fainting-fits which had been so alarming did not 
 return again. Once more she was up and at the window, 
 making the most of the short daylight. "Whatever time 
 the children came to the cottage, they were sure to find her 
 seated at the table ; not now busy over white work, how- 
 ever, but reading — always reading. Hours long she would 
 pore over her Bible, as eagerly as if every word was en- 
 tirely new to her. Sometimes she turned over the leaves 
 rapidly, sometimes she would stop long at a single passage ; 
 but it was seldom that she changed that one book for any 
 other, and then only for her lady's hymns. 
 
 Mrs. Veitch was greatly comforted to see this return to 
 the habits of long ago ; it was a sure sign of improvement 
 in health, she thought, when Nelly took to her book. Her 
 daughter had grown so gentle, too, that the old woman began 
 to pet and talk to her as she had never ventured to do for 
 long; and little Nelly was not banished to the gardener's 
 cottage, but played about her mother's side in those days. 
 
 19
 
 290 " SOMETHING LIKE A SMILE." 
 
 But, with all this new patience and tenderness, Helen 
 Russell was very silent ; the feverish anxiety for talk 
 which had come on before by fits seemed to have passed 
 away, and, except when she was appealed to, she very 
 seldom spoke. 
 
 Even when Alice and Lina came this was the case; but 
 she was always glad to see them, and would greet them 
 with what Alice used to describe as " something like a 
 smile, but not nearly a whole one." Only once did the 
 children see the bright look all over her face, a smile in her 
 eyes as well as on her lips ; and even then it was but a 
 moment's glimpse of light. 
 
 " You will see our mother in heaven," Alice said to her 
 one day ; " and be sure, when you do, to tell her it was 
 you who first taught Lina and me to like her." 
 
 For an instant, Helen Russell, with soft colour in her 
 cheeks and gladness in her eyes, was once more the pretty 
 girl of long ago ; then flush and smile faded away, and she 
 sighed and shook her head. " I'm not worthy — not 
 worthy." She seemed restless to get back to her Bible 
 again, as if only there she had sure anchorage of hope : her 
 head was down over the book again when the children 
 passed the window. But Alice and Lina cherished the 
 thought that Helen Russell was going to be with their 
 mother in Paradise, and that the beauty and mirth of her 
 girlhood would be hers again when she saw and spoke to 
 her dear lady in the country where there shall be no more 
 sorrow. 
 
 " She'll laugh altogether when she gets to heaven ! " 
 
 The children were very busy meanwhile with their 
 preparations for the Christmas-tree and the party, though 
 the great event was not to take place so soon as they had
 
 BRIMFUL OF NEWS. 291 
 
 expected. Fr'aulein's visit to her sister lengthened itself 
 out by several days, and neither Alice nor Lina could allow 
 her to miss the treat ; so the invitations were issued for 
 the evening after her return to Hopefield. The children 
 went down in the carriage to meet their governess at the 
 station, much enjoying the drive all by themselves in the 
 dark, and full of excitement about the morrow. It is 
 to be hoped that Fraulein was not very anxious to give 
 particulars of her own experiences during her absence, for 
 Alice and Lina had too much to say about their matters 
 to allow her a chance of doing so ; and I am afraid they 
 did not even take time to ask after her sister's welfare, 
 before they plunged into the subject of the grand entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 " There will be more than thirty children coming — thirty- 
 three, if Mrs. Anderson allows little Bobby to come, and if 
 the bridge baby is old enough." 
 
 " And if none of them have colds," suggested Alice. 
 
 " We made a list of the children," said Lina, " and told 
 mamma all about them ; and they are each to get a big 
 particular present, with a ticket and their name fastened to 
 it ; but there will be lots of little things besides. Every- 
 thing is laid out all ready on the schoolroom table — you'll 
 see them, Fraulein ; Hugh wrote the tickets this afternoon, 
 and we settled, and put them on. There are such beautiful 
 things ! — every one as nice as Nelly's ark ; but mamma says 
 that's all right — it would not have done to make a difference. 
 George's Maggie gets a doll, and Anderson's Maggie gets a 
 work-box, and there's a top for Tommy Bruce." 
 
 "The Christmas-tree is to be in the schoolroom," said 
 Alice, " but it's not brought in yet — not to be till to-morrow 
 morning. It's such a beauty; and mamma has got more 
 tapers — there are five dozen altogether. She went into
 
 292 AN UGLY WORD. 
 
 town again on Friday with papa and bought some more 
 things — sweeties, and some beetles and ducks (imitation, of 
 course, not alive). The beetles are so funny ! they hang 
 on elastic, and their legs waggle. Nelly is to have one of 
 them. The ducks are rather pretty — " 
 
 " Little tiny things," continued Lina, snatching the 
 confused thread of discourse from her sister ; " the ducks 
 are scarcely larger than the beetles. And there are reflectors 
 for the candles ; and gold and silver balls to make every- 
 thing in a glitter. The balls are very brittle, though ; 
 Charley has broken two already this morning." 
 
 " They aren't much good — I don't like things that are 
 only for show," said Alice. " The big Thompson boy is to 
 have a knife." 
 
 " And Hugh has made so many beautiful things," con- 
 tinued Lina ; " book-marks — lovely ones ! — and mamma 
 bought us the ribbon for them, and fringed it out. And 
 then there are his walnut thimble-cases — only in some of 
 them we put a big almond. We must look to-morrow, 
 though, to see that Charley hasn't opened them and taken 
 the almonds. He does take so many sweeties, Fraulein !" 
 
 " The boys are always so," said Fraulein, who was one 
 of those females who think that great indulgence ought to 
 be shown to the follies and weakness of the other sex. 
 
 "Is it worse for girls to steal than boys?" asked Alice. 
 
 "Oh, that is an ugly word — steal" said Fraulein, shaking 
 her head. 
 
 "It's a right, word though," said Alice. "Isn't taking 
 what's not your own stealing ? That's what Charley does : 
 he takes the sweeties that mamma paid for with her own 
 money for our party, and he eats them up ; and he isn't 
 even hungry, like the boys in books that steal out of bakers' 
 shops. Tt's just all for greediness."
 
 GIVING UP THE CONTEST. 293 
 
 Fraulein, feeling, as she had often done before, that this 
 pupil of hers was rather too much for her, thought it best to 
 change her ground, by observing that the right way to 
 speak of a person's faults was to point them out to himself 
 when no one else was by, instead of doing it to others when 
 he was absent. 
 
 "That's what I do," said Alice; "I do tell Charley his 
 faults. I told him he was a thief, this very afternoon ; and 
 he was alone, too. After that, if he doesn't behave better, 
 I may speak about it in the church if I like; the Bible 
 says so." 
 
 "0 Ali!" exclaimed Fraulein in dismay; and with that 
 she fairly gave up the contest, and turned round and asked 
 Lina hurriedly what present the coachman's little daughter 
 was to receive on the morrow. But this attempt to turn 
 the conversation was rather unfortunate too. 
 
 "O Fraulein! were you not listening? We told you 
 already: a doll — a beautiful baby-doll with eyes that open 
 and shut; and mamma dressed it in beautiful long clothes. 
 How I wish that Nelly loved dolls ! Do you think she 
 ever will learn 1 ? She's very young yet, you know." 
 
 "Little Maggie loves dolls," said Fraulein. "She is very 
 much like a doll herself." 
 
 "Yes!" said Alice, delighted. "And Jessie thinks that 
 child is prettier than our Nelly! A sleepy, fat, smooth 
 creature, with sleek sort of hair, and a round face like a 
 plate. She's always quiet and content, Jessie says, and 
 sits on a stool as long as you like to set her, quite quiet. 
 And Jessie thinks that's being nicer than our Nelly !" 
 
 "Little Maggie is a very nice little thing, Lally — really. 
 Not like Nelly, but still nice." 
 
 "No, she's a good child. I hate good children." 
 
 ''I find her both good and pretty," said Fraulein ; "and
 
 294 EMILY AND KATIE. 
 
 if she's quiet she will certainly love a doll, and not ill-treat 
 it, like that wild Nolly." 
 
 "Oh, I think she'll like her doll," said Alice; "like to 
 play with a piece of stupid wax, rather than a good running 
 game ! " 
 
 "I'm afraid she won't like it enough, then," put in Lina. 
 "I'm afraid she won't know that dolls can be just like real 
 children. O Lally, remember Emily and Katie! They 
 had lessons, and lectures, and baths, and talks, and every- 
 thing one's own little girls ought to have. You never saw 
 them, Fraulein; they were broken long before you came: 
 nurse sat down on Emily. But I loved them so ! They 
 cost sixpence each. Emily had fair curls and blue eyes; 
 she was the selfish, gentle daughter, and a little lazy too. 
 Katie was impulsive — like the little girls in books, you 
 know — and she had black hair and eyes. Alice was the 
 papa, and I was the mamma; and we felt exactly like it, 
 Fraulein." 
 
 " It was good fun whipping our children," remarked Alice 
 — " I remember that. But little Maggie won't be able to 
 whip her doll, because it's only a baby." 
 
 " Dear children," said Fraulein, amused, " let the little 
 Maggie take her pleasure of her toy her own way, and be 
 content." 
 
 " Oh yes ; and there are five other dolls going to five 
 other children. Who are they all for, Lina 1 " 
 
 The children were not content till they had gone over 
 the list of all their guests and the particular presents in- 
 tended for them, explaining everything to Fraulein with as 
 much care as if they had no intention of taking her to the 
 schoolroom to see it all as soon as she entered the house. 
 
 "After all," said Alice, "I like the ark as well as any- 
 thing there is, — better, I think. There's a pair of all the
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR THE FESTIVITIES. 295 
 
 animals that are anything worth in it ; they don't go by 
 ones, as they do in the little cheap arks. And Kelly is to 
 take home the Psalm-book for her grandmother, and the 
 needle-book for her mother. We meant to give them our- 
 selves before, but we thought they would look nice on the 
 tree ; and besides," added Alice, morally, " we think it 
 good for Nelly that she should take them home. We want 
 to teach her a giving spirit." 
 
 The next day was entirely devoted to preparations for 
 the festivities. The whole family turned out to the busi- 
 ness immediately after breakfast ; even Mr. Hope was im- 
 pressed into the service by his wife, and employed, under 
 her direction, in decking the higher branches of the tree. It 
 was found best, on the whole, that Alice, Lina, and Charley 
 should confine themselves to fetching, carrying, and hand- 
 ing up things for the older people ; but there was plenty for 
 them to do in that way; while Hugh made himself ex- 
 tremely useful by fastening strings, cutting wire, fitting 
 tapers into their stands, &c. None of the other workers 
 would have got on well without the aid of the sharp pen- 
 knife and the skilful fingers which were always working 
 away silently and rapidly at the table. But, of course, on 
 the two ladies the principal part of the labour fell ; and 
 Mrs. Hope and Friiulein acqxiitted themselves nobly. Be- 
 fore the luncheon-bell rang, the Christmas-tree stood ready, 
 glittering and laden, — the upper branches hung with light 
 sparkling ornaments, fruit, and bon-bons; the lower ones 
 bearing the more substantial presents, and hiding such of 
 them as were rather for use than beauty among the thick 
 darkness of greenery at the foot. The children were 
 ecstatic; and even the others, who had seen more of the 
 world and Christmas-trees than they had, were ready to 
 agree that the sight was a very pretty one.
 
 296 EVERYTHING READV. 
 
 But Alice and Lina had little time to stand and admire. 
 After a hurried meal they went off to arrange the long 
 table, which had been put up in the laundry for the occa- 
 sion. No hands but theirs, they had stipulated, were to cut 
 the bread and butter and the currant-loaves, or put out the 
 jam and sugar for the feast. They had indignantly rejected 
 the proposal that the tea should be mixed up in kettles, 
 and every guest provided with a mug: "That would be like 
 a soiree," Lina said, " not like a party ; " so the two little 
 sisters were to sit one at each end of the table, and preside 
 in orthodox fashion. Very particular were Alice and Lina 
 about the equal division of the many cups and saucers, and 
 the fulness of cream-pots and sugar-basins ; but their special 
 pride lay in the tea-cosies — which were not the plain articles 
 used in the nursery and schoolroom, but two of the most 
 imposing of their mamma's wedding -gifts. The children 
 did not think their work finished till they had themselves 
 superintended the infusion of the tea ; and by that time it 
 was almost four o'clock, and Jessie, horrified at the state of 
 their dress, came and swept them away befoi'e her upstairs. 
 
 Meanwhile, in the cottages round Hopefield, preparations 
 were being made busily, and little hearts beat high with 
 expectation and excitement on account of Alice and Lina's 
 party. Nelly's tai'tan frock had been washed for the occa- 
 sion, and her grandmother fondly tried to make herself 
 believe it looked as good as new again. But if it did not, 
 it mattered little, for the pinafore cover-ed all deficiencies — 
 and that was new, and as white as the driven snow. Helen 
 Bussell had taken up her needle again to prepare the little 
 gai-ment for her child; and when it was all finished, and 
 ironed out by Mrs. Veitch's zealous hands, she herself 
 dressed Nelly in it, and set her before her on the table, 
 and combed out her curls.
 
 NELLY AND HER MOTHER. 297 
 
 " Eli, Helen, isna she bonnie 1 " cried the grandmother 
 in delight, when the finishing touches were all given, and 
 Nelly sat up straight and proud, looking round for admir- 
 ation. 
 
 But Helen Russell made no response to the appeal at 
 all. She did not even seem to hear it, as she gazed into 
 the little face before her, — the little face so like her own, 
 and yet more like another, which had once been dearer far. 
 Suddenly she bent forward her dark head to Nelly's, and 
 laid her cheek against the child's. 
 
 " My poor little bairn," she said, in a voice which trembled 
 with mingled self-reproach and tenderness, " there's a God 
 for the children that father and mother forsake ; and he is 
 taking you up, my bairn." 
 
 The children belonging to the shopkeeper at the bridge 
 were to call for Nelly on their way to Hopefield; and they 
 came in presently, all in their Sunday best. The sight of 
 them made Mrs. Veitch sore at hearo about her grand- 
 daughter's old frock, and Nelly herself was inclined to look 
 at her friends with some envy, but her mother seemed in- 
 different to the splendours of the visitors. Perhaps Helen 
 Russell had too much innate good taste to wish to see her 
 little one decked out with ill-made attempts at a fashionable 
 style in flounces and cheap flowers ; perhaps her mind was 
 too full of other things to have any thoughts to spare for 
 the little Rosses' dresses and new hats. At any rate, she 
 tied on Nelly's hood quite calmly, and put her on the floor, 
 and kissed her, and bade her good-bye and be a good girl. 
 
 So the little Thing went off with her companions ; and 
 before they reached the house, the Rosses and Nelly met 
 the other children of the place, and they all went to the 
 door of Hopefield together, for they were far too shy to think 
 of entering except in a body. So it came to pass that all
 
 298 lina's apprehensions. 
 
 the guests had arrived, and were giggling and whispering 
 in the laundry, when Alice and Lina came downstairs 
 again. 
 
 The hostesses had not been prepared to encounter such 
 an array all at once ; they had no one to support them, and 
 their courage failed. After they had gone round the room 
 and shaken hands with every child, they did not know 
 what next to do. A great silence fell on the whole com- 
 pany, — a silence that was agony to Lina, who felt that she 
 was altogether failing in her duty of entertainer, — and the 
 spell was only broken by the appearance of the servants 
 with the tea-kettles. That was a blessed relief; though 
 Eliza and Jessie seemed to regard the situation with some 
 amusement and contempt, and it was certainly humiliating 
 to Alice and Lina to see them obliged to take the manage- 
 ment of affairs. The children were made to take their 
 places on the benches at the table; and Lina's heart sank 
 within her again as she saw that, while Nelly was put be- 
 side Alice, all the biggest boys and girls of the company 
 came and sat down near her. Her greatest apprehensions 
 were caused by two young sisters of Jessie, who were almost 
 grown up, and very smartly dressed; and when these young 
 persons planted themselves at a distance of only three seats 
 from her end of the table, Lina could scarcely resist her 
 inclination to rush out of the room. 
 
 It was well that Alice had more fortitude. She was not 
 disposed to flinch from duty, as long as she knew what that 
 duty was ; and once at the table, her course was perfectly 
 plain. 
 
 " For what we are about to receive, Lord, make us truly 
 thankful," said Alice, clasping her hands and asking the 
 blessing in a clear, loud voice. Then she sat down, and 
 before beginning her tea-making tried to find out whether
 
 ENCOURAGEMENT AND COUNSEL. 299 
 
 her guests liked cream and sugar — questioning each child 
 in order, but carefully keeping to her own half of the table. 
 It was a work of time, nevertheless, for answers were very 
 hard to elicit. Either the children were too shy to speak, 
 or they did not understand what they were expected to say ; 
 and when Alice had brought her inquiry all round, her 
 patience was nearly exhausted. 
 
 " I'll give to every one who doesn't say, No, thank you ; 
 and if they don't like it, they should speak when they're 
 spoken to." 
 
 But while Alice went briskly on with these operations, 
 Lina, at the other end of the table, trembled, and fumbled 
 with the sugar-tongs, and tried hard to summon up courage to 
 follow her sister's example. She looked first to one side 
 and then the other, wondering which would be the least 
 formidable to begin on ; but when she tried to say, " Do 
 you take sugar and cream 1 " her throat was all parched 
 and dry, and no sound would come. 
 
 Jessie took pity on her at last, and, while handing the 
 buna about in that neighbourhood, found an opportunity to 
 ■whisper, " You'd better begin to pour out the tea — they'll 
 all take plenty of milk and sugar." 
 
 Lina had kindlier thoughts of Jessie all the rest of her 
 life, because of that tnnely word of encouragement and 
 counsel. After that, she managed to fill her seventeen 
 cups with tea, though not without much time and trouble ; 
 and the servants handed them and the eatables about. And 
 things went better ; for, when every one was eating, it did 
 not seem so terrible that no one was talking. Then Friiu- 
 lein and Charley came; but were not much help, for Friiu- 
 lein coidd not make the children understand her English, 
 and Lina was afraid her feelings would be hurt — as for 
 Charley, he openly picked out the biggest lump of currant-
 
 300 MISCHIEVOUS CHARLEY. 
 
 loaf he could find for himself, and ate sugar with his lingers, 
 and was ready with a wink or a grin whenever he caught 
 his cousin's eye. 
 
 But the climax of all poor Lina's misery came when one 
 little round face was observed to pucker into a most 
 doleful expression, and tears came into her eyes, though 
 she tried hard to rub them back with her plump hands. 
 What could be the matter 1 What was to be done 1 The 
 girls beside her whispered to her, and she seemed to whisper 
 back ; and then the girls communicated the result of the 
 conference to Alice and Lina in whispers, which were per- 
 fectly inaudible to them. They had not the faintest idea 
 what could be the matter with little Maggie. Only she 
 cried and cried, and would not eat. 
 
 " Better leave her alone," said Alice, not inclined to spend 
 much patience on this child, who was warranted to be better 
 behaved than Nelly — Nelly, who sat beside her teacher, 
 flushed and happy, munching away bravely, and smiling 
 between the mouthfuls. 
 
 Lina, at this moment, happened to look at Charley, and 
 that worthless character immediately began to screw up 
 his face and stick his fists into his eyes, in imitation of the 
 picture of woe which was opposite him. It was too much. 
 The last drop makes the cup overflow ; the last straw breaks 
 the camel's back. Off went Lina into a violent fit of hys- 
 terical laughter. Alice frowned sternly at her ; Friiulein 
 looked surprised and annoyed ; the children ceased eating, 
 and stared. Lina only laughed the more, though her 
 laughter sounded rather like crying. 
 
 Finally, she rose and hurried to the door ; and then did 
 the brave Alice step into the breach, and strive to cover 
 the ignominious retreat of her ally. She looked straight 
 down the table, and, meeting the gaze of Jessie's sister
 
 EVERYTHING GOING WRONG. 301 
 
 without flinching in the least, she remarked, " It has been 
 very cold to-day." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied Jessie's sister. 
 
 " And I think," said Alice, in a still louder and more 
 courageous voice, " that it will be very cold again to- 
 morrow." 
 
 That was the last Lina heard as she hurried away, feel- 
 ing she was disgraced for ever. One hope, and one alone, 
 was left her of saving her party from utter ruin. Lina's 
 laughter was changed into real sobbing when she met her 
 stepmother at the drawing-room door, and flung herself 
 into her arms. 
 
 " My dear child ! my dear Lina ! what is the matter ? 
 Have you hurt yourself?" 
 
 " Oh, go down quick ! go down quick !" said Lina. 
 " The most dreadful things are happening. I laughed, and 
 nobody will talk, and little Maggie's crying, and Alice has 
 begun to speak about the weather ! Go down quick, for 
 everything's going wrong ! " 
 
 "Is that all?" said Mrs. Hope. "You made me think 
 you had been scalding yourself or some one else, at the 
 very least. I was just coming down to admire you as 
 hostess, and have a cup of tea from you ; and my hostess 
 meets me and nearly upsets me on the way ! Everything 
 has gone wi'ong, has it? Then we'll put everything to 
 rights. Come along." 
 
 " Oh, never again !" said Lina, though she was beginning 
 to feel greatly comforted by the cheery coolness with which 
 her news was received. She was longing now to go down 
 again, but felt it was impossible. " I must be in such a 
 dreadful mess," she added ruefully. 
 
 " Very well ; come in a minute or two, when your eyes are 
 all right,''' said Mrs. Hope, already on her way downstairs.
 
 302 WHAT MAMMA DID. 
 
 A clean handkerchief, and a few minutes in the cool and 
 quiet of her bed-room, restored Lina wonderfully, and she 
 plucked up courage to return to the laundry. No one 
 looked at her as she peeped timidly in at the door ; all 
 were too busy to notice her, for Mrs. Hope had been as 
 good as her word in putting everything to rights. Every- 
 body was eating and smiling, and a perfect buzz of con- 
 versation filled the room ; for it was kept up so briskly 
 where Mrs. Hope sat between Alice and Nelly, that the 
 children at the other end of the table had ventured, under 
 cover of the noise, to begin some mild talk among them- 
 selves. As Lina stole, in thankfulness and humility, to 
 her place, she gave a glance at little Maggie ; and there 
 was the moon-face shining in placid contentment over 
 bread and jam. She was informed afterwards that her 
 stepmother had found out that currant-loaf was all that 
 was wrong with little Maggie. The benighted infant was 
 unable to appreciate that delicacy ; but whenever the ex- 
 periment was tried of making a change on her plate, she 
 dried her tears, and set to work with as hearty an appe- 
 tite as any one would wish to see. Certainly there is no 
 one like a mamma, as Alice and Lina said afterwards over 
 and over again to each other. 
 
 From the time that Mrs. Hope arrived, everything 
 went well. She even knew how to fill up that interval 
 which might have been so embarrassing, when tea was over, 
 and still it was not time to go to the schoolroom for the 
 next part of the treat. The whole company gradually 
 hushed down into delighted attention, as they became 
 aware that the lady of the house was relating the 
 •Adventures of Hop-o-my-thumb " to Nelly seated on 
 her lap. 
 
 " Tell me some more," said Nelly, when the story came
 
 THE UGLY DUCKLING. 303 
 
 to an end ; and eager inarticulate murmurings from the 
 other children seconded her request. 
 
 But Charley, who had gone off some time ago, now re- 
 appeared at the door, gesticulating and beckoning to his 
 aunt. 
 
 " Ask Miss Alice to tell you some more. Ask her to 
 tell you about the Ugly Duckling." 
 
 It was well Mrs. Hope specified the tale, for the thought 
 of what she and Charley were going to do when they left 
 the room together nearly put everything else out of Alice's 
 mind. She tried hard to tell her story properly, but it was 
 sadly lacking in spirit ; and her excitement and restlessness 
 spread to the other children, who began also to fidget and 
 look expectantly at the door. 
 
 They had not long to wait. Charley's feet were heard 
 again presently, and the door was thrown wide open. 
 
 " Come, every one of you, now !" 
 
 Alice went first, and the other children followed pell-mell. 
 In the crowd Lina felt a grasp at her dress, and looking 
 down, saw Nelly clinging confidingly to her side — put her 
 arm round her, and quite forgot her woes. 
 
 At the schoolroom door the party stopped, and a con- 
 fused outcry of delight and wonder rose from them all. 
 The gas had been extinguished, and all the light there was 
 in the room came from the Christmas-tree, which was all 
 aglow with blazing candles and brilliant colours. Mrs. 
 Hope called Alice and Lina ; and they came forward and 
 stood under the tree, with Nelly still clinging to them, — 
 taking their places, as it were, within a charmed circle. 
 
 Every one else kept themselves and their admiration 
 at a respectful distance. The rest of the family gathered 
 round Mrs. Hope at the west window, and the servants 
 stood about the door, while the little guests walked round
 
 304 STRIPPING THE CHRISTMAS-TREE. 
 
 the tree, with open mouths and many exclamations ; and 
 then fell back, as they were directed, to the sides of the 
 room. 
 
 The candles were half burned down before Alice and 
 Lina could make up their minds to begin to take off the 
 presents ; then, of course, it was Nelly's ark first, and after 
 that the other things, given in no particular order of rank 
 or age. The spoliation, once begun, went on fast, as child 
 after child, in answer to the names called out by AHce, 
 came into the shining place in the middle ; and, receiving 
 their gifts with gratitude more or less graceful, fell back 
 again among their companions in the twilight. 
 
 Then followed the stripping off the ornaments and the 
 small things ; and now the others came to help ; and the 
 candles had to be blown out one by one, as they burned 
 low, and threatened to cause a conflagration among the 
 branches. The whole was almost over when Lina distin- 
 guished among the faces at the door that of Mrs. Veitch, 
 looking out with a sort of deprecating humility from be- 
 tween the tall butler and the portly form of nurse. To 
 point her out to Alice, seize the Psalm-book, and hurry 
 across the room, was the work of a moment. " O Mrs. 
 Veitch, how's Nelly's mother?" 
 
 She was wonderfully well, Mrs. Veitch said, with a 
 courtesy — had been " right taken up " about Nelly going 
 to Hopefield, and was " set " on her grandmother bringing 
 her home and giving her a carry through the snow. 
 
 Lina was rather inclined to think that Helen Russell 
 might have been considering the old woman's love for a 
 little change and talk, as well as anxious to spare Nelly's 
 little feet ; but she only said, — 
 
 " I'm so glad she's better. Nelly's got a needle-book for 
 her ; she must give it to her mother hei'self. And here's a
 
 nelly's departure. 305 
 
 Psalm-book for you. We meant Nelly to give it you ; but 
 as you're here, you'd better take it yourself." 
 
 "Yes; Nelly's hands are full," said Alice, coming up be- 
 hind, " and her pocket. Better you take it into your own." 
 
 Mrs. Veitch almost outdid herself in courtesies and thanks 
 for her own gift and Nelly's ; but the old woman was 
 really so anxious to get back to her daughter, that Lina's 
 conscience smote her for her uncharitable thoughts. Helen 
 had lain down to take a rest, she said; but she might 
 waken up and feel lone. Nelly must get on her things, 
 and come away home with granny. Alice and Lina were 
 obliged to give a reluctant consent to her departure ; they 
 did not wish their party to break up just yet, but in this 
 case they could not insist. Lina went for Nelly's hood and 
 Mrs. Veitch's shawl, and showed the two out of the front- 
 door, as being the neai-est way home. It was another 
 beautiful night, and the old woman and the little child 
 went down the west avenue under the stars, as Alice had 
 done on Christmas Eve. 
 
 In the schoolroom, when Alice and Lina came back to 
 it, the gas was lighted, and the children were examining 
 each other's gifts delightedly, while Charley was still peer- 
 ing and poking among the bare branches of the tree, where 
 nothing remained now but the b\irned-out ends of the candles, 
 and the British flag still keeping proud possession of the top. 
 
 The children went round to their stepmother and slipped 
 their arms within hers. " Well, what now 1 " she asked, 
 with her bright, unfailing smile. 
 
 " We think we might have some hymns, if you would 
 play them — Fraulein knows almost no English hymns." 
 
 " And I don't think I know many," said Mrs. Hope. 
 
 She sat down at the piano, nevertheless, and after strik- 
 ing a few chords, began to play the sweet old-fashioned air 
 
 20
 
 30G 
 
 AT HER REST. 
 
 which has been so long a favourite children's hymn. All 
 in the room knew the words of the Happy Land — even 
 little Maggie sang as she hugged her doll. It was the only 
 hymn nurse had ever taught to Alice and Lina, and though 
 little used of late, it was in their minds all right, in that 
 peculiarly safe corner where very early lessons are laid by. 
 Very pleasant it was to sing the old nursery words with 
 the unusual accompaniment of mamma's spirited playing 
 and the many voices of their guests. It was a fit ending 
 to an evening which had been, on the whole, one of exqui- 
 site pleasure — a time to be remembered joyfully one's 
 whole life long. 
 
 Mrs. Veitch and Nelly were very cheerful as they went 
 home together; and, burdened though they were, got along 
 wonderfully fast over the snow. 
 
 " I wonder if mother's been lonesome," said Mrs. Veitch 
 as she put her hand on the latch of the door. When she 
 opened it, and set Nelly down before her on the threshold, 
 her daughter was still in the same position in which she 
 had left her, — lying back in the arm-chair by the fireside, 
 with her face turned away from the door. She neither 
 spoke nor turned, even when little Nelly ran across the 
 floor in delight, with her treasures held up in her pinafore. 
 " Muzzer ! muzzer ! look at they booty things ! " 
 
 " Whisht, lassie — mother's sleeping," said Mrs. Veitch 
 then. 
 
 But with a vague uneasiness she went to look at the 
 rpiiet figure. Nelly's mother was lying with her cheek on 
 her hand, nestled down upon the pillow peacefully as a 
 sleeping child's. But earthly voices would never disturb 
 her any more. She had closed her sad eyes on this world, 
 and laid down her weary head for a rest that was to be 
 unbroken till the resurrection-morn.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PLEASURES FOR EVERMORE. 
 
 |ELLY belongs to us more than ever now," was 
 the first thought of the children when the 
 news came next morning from the Lodge, strik- 
 ing them rather with solemnity than sorrow. They got 
 away from Jessie as soon as they could, though her talk 
 about Helen Russell was meant to be kind, and went and wan- 
 dered downstairs restlessly, with hearts that were very full. 
 All traces of yesterday's festivities had been swept away. 
 The table was taken from the laundry; and the schoolroom, 
 with its Christmas-tree gone, the furniture all back, and 
 everything tidy, looked like a schoolroom once more. 
 Alice stood at the door and gazed at it all rather ruefully. 
 They had been looking forward so long to their party, and 
 now it was all over already, and as if it had never been ! 
 And this was the end of their holidays now— there were to 
 be no more forenoons of play and story-telling, no moi'e 
 working at present-making with mamma in the drawing- 
 room ! No; they would have lessons, and regular hours 
 and occupations once more. Alice and Lina were to re- 
 turn to the workaday woidd, and they found the prospect 
 decidedly dreary. 
 
 "Well," said Alice, with a great sigh, "it was very nice, 
 but very soon over. Nelly's mother's pleasures will be for 
 evermore."
 
 308 A MEMORABLE VISIT. 
 
 It was strange to think of her, whom they had so long 
 pitied, as now better off than they ; but it was a source of 
 great comfort to Alice. And the suggestion set Lina on a 
 track of her own. The recollection of her unfortunate 
 behaviour at tea the night before was not a thing that could 
 be banished for long. It had come back to the sensitive 
 child again and again, both asleep and awake, pricking her 
 with sudden twinges of shame, so that she sometimes 
 doubted whether the party had been very pleasant after all. 
 
 " Nelly's mother's pleasures are for evermore," repeated 
 Lina after her sister. " Yes ; and she can't possibly do 
 stupid things herself, and spoil them." 
 
 When the winter sun was warm in the forenoon, the 
 two little sisters went down to the Lodge together, to look 
 for the last time on the face that had grown dear to them 
 for Nelly's sake. It was the children's first sight of death, 
 and long years never blotted out the minutest circum- 
 stances of that visit from their minds. Very silent was 
 their walk through the snow with Friiulein, and a feeling 
 almost of terror came over Lina when they stopped before 
 the cottage where the darkened windows showed the abode 
 of death within. 
 
 Mrs. Veitch greeted them with a burst of sobs, — she 
 could not spesfik for weeping, — and the sight of her grief 
 was all the more distressing to the children because they 
 did not know it was well for her that she could give vent 
 to it in tears. In the twilight kitchen Nelly sat on the 
 floor playing with her ark. " Whisht ! " she said in a 
 whisper, lifting up her fore-finger in grave imitation of 
 the admonitions of her elders; "whisht ! ye maun be quiet. 
 Muzzer's lyin' sleepin' ben the hoose." But when the 
 others turned to the parlour, Nelly rose and followed, her 
 eyes big and her face very solemn, with a wondering
 
 THE CHILDREN'S BURST SIGHT OF DEATH. 309 
 
 curiosity, and a consciousness that for some unknown 
 reason it behoved her to be particularly good. 
 
 At the sight of the white figure on the bed, Alice and 
 Lina hung back and clung to Fraulein; but it was only for 
 a moment. When Mrs. Yeitch with tender, trembling hands 
 took the sheet off the face, there was nothing dreadful 
 there. Helen Russell's cheeks and lips had often looked 
 as pale in the attacks of faintness that used to come over 
 her ; and all trace of suffering had gone from the delicate 
 features, which were stamped with the solemnity of eternal 
 repose. Her hair, which had been cut short in the end of 
 her illness, curled in soft rings like Nelly's about the 
 marble white of her brow, and aided in giving to the upper 
 part of her face a childish look strangely unlike its expres- 
 sion in life. And the restless hands, which the children had 
 scarcely seen for a moment still, were now folded lightly 
 on her breast. It was them Alice ventured to touch first ; 
 not moving the chill fingers, but laying her own soft hand 
 above them ; then she and Lina, almost afraid of disturb- 
 ing the quiet of the dead, bent down to kiss her face. 
 
 Fain would the motherless children have knelt there 
 and then to pray for themselves, and the other motherless 
 child who was doubly their charge now ; but they were 
 not alone in the chamber with Nelly and the dead. Frau- 
 lein was there, and Mrs. Veitch ; so Alice and Lina had to 
 keep their petitions silent in their hearts. The children 
 themselves scarcely thought them prayers at all ; but 
 surely they were not slower on that account in reaching 
 the ears of the orphans' God. 
 
 All that was mortal of Helen Russell was carried to rest 
 in the quiet graveyard by the river, and they made her bed 
 at her lady's feet. It was Alice and Lina's wish that it
 
 310 
 
 RECEIVING A REBUFF. 
 
 should be so, and no one said them nay. When the. 
 spring came, and the pleasant weather, they meant to take 
 Nelly often there. It was too cold now, and the snow 
 covered up the cemetery and the sleepers there, as it 
 covered up the garden and the flowers. 
 
 Alice's first care in acting as mother to Nelly was pro- 
 viding for her dress, which she was very anxious should be 
 neat and suitable in the circumstances. And strangely 
 enough, as it seemed to the children, the expression of these 
 anxieties brought new and unexpected influences to bear 
 on their work and on themselves. When they consulted 
 Mrs. Hope about mourning for Nelly, she put the subject 
 aside in an impatient, irritable way she had never before 
 showed to her stepdaughters. 
 
 " Oh, tell Jessie to get some black stuff to make a frock 
 for the child, if you like ; but don't be always talking of 
 such dismal things. It makes one melancholy to hear con- 
 stantly of that poor woman's death." 
 
 The last sentence was spoken half-apologetically to 
 her husband. The touch of ill-humour was over in a 
 moment, but it would be hard to say whether the chil- 
 dren were more astonished or hurt at the rebuff they had 
 received. 
 
 That same day, however, a thing even stranger happened, 
 which was almost sufficient to make them forget their mor- 
 tification. Alice and Lina were returning from the garden 
 together, when their father overtook them, and laying a 
 hand on Alice's shoulder, walked between them towards 
 the house. 
 
 " I have been thinking," he said, after they had gone in 
 silence for a few paces, that seemed very slow to the chil- 
 dren, who always felt embarrassed when alone with him, 
 " you might help with that little girl at the Lodge. Her
 
 PRINCELY GENEROSITY. 311 
 
 grandmother must be poor enough, and find it difficult to 
 get what she needs." 
 
 So saying, he drew a couple of pound-notes from his 
 pocket and handed them to the astonished Alice, who 
 stared at him as if she doubted whether he had the full 
 possession of his reason. Apparently, the fact of his gift 
 not being received as a matter of course, aroused in him 
 some fears about the prudence of entrusting so large a sum 
 to the little girls. 
 
 " Consult Miss " (he never could remember Friiu- 
 
 lein's name) ; " she'll know what you ought to buy for the 
 child," he added hastily. 
 
 Alice had unfolded the precious bits of paper, and now 
 she stood still in the snow and held out one in each hand 
 before her father. 
 
 " There are two ! " she said. 
 
 " Yes, I know," her father answered, with a wrnile. 
 " You mean us to keep them both 1 " 
 " Yes, certainly,— for little Nelly." 
 
 The children scarcely heard the last words, with the im- 
 plied warning that the money was not to be spent on them- 
 selves. They were turning the notes over and examining 
 them with intense interest, scarcely able to believe that they 
 were the possessors of such enormous wealth. 
 
 " I believe," Alice said, in a tone of solemn thankfulness, 
 "this will buy a hat, and frock, and boots, and all, for 
 Nelly ! " 
 
 Lina laid claim to one of the notes, and the children then 
 proceeded on their way, too much overcome to say anything 
 more about this princely generosity of their father, before 
 which even Miss Harvey's famous gift sank into nothing. 
 But Mr. Hope, still walking with them, spoke again in a 
 little.
 
 312 LUTING THE CURTAIN OF THE PAST. 
 
 " If there is anything in inherited tendencies, you chil- 
 dren should care for the poor." He paused, and the i-est of 
 his sentence was added as if it cost him an effort — " For 
 your mother went about doing good among them, like the 
 Divine Master himself when he was on earth." 
 
 The children did not answer; perhaps Mr. Hope 
 scarcely expected they would ; and after another moment 
 of silence he went on, with the same deep earnestness 
 of tone, — 
 
 " Christ was a very real person to her, — so real, that she 
 was willing for his sake to leave the baby children, dearer 
 to her than anything else ; and her one wish for them was, 
 that they should learn to love him too." 
 
 " And she's been with him years and years," said Alice 
 then ; " and we are going to be with him too some day ; 
 only not just yet, I think. We have some work to do for 
 him here yet." 
 
 Lina's " Yes " was a sort of Amen to her sister's words, 
 and nothing more was said. 
 
 It was the first time Mr. Hope had ever spoken to them 
 of their mother, and they felt instinctively it might very 
 likely be the last. For a moment he had lifted the curtain 
 of the Past to let them see her life-work, her love for her 
 children, and her heart's desire for them; but his hand 
 was to reveal no more. They could not question him as 
 they had questioned Helen Russell ; but his few solemn 
 words became dear as well as solemn, interpreted by 
 the tender, well-remembered tales of her who had first 
 taught Alice and Lina to " like " their mother. 
 
 The walk had ended in perfect silence, and the children 
 and their father separated before they remembered they 
 had never thanked him. Off they rushed immediately, 
 and stopped him at the library door.
 
 "kind" compliments. 313 
 
 "We're very sorry — we were very rude — we are much 
 obliged for your kindness." 
 
 They would have liked to kiss him; but though he 
 looked quite kind and gentle, they did not think he seemed 
 to expect or wcnild be pleased by any such demonstration 
 of affection. 
 
 " Papa has given us two pounds for Nelly!" cried Alice, 
 appearing with an excited face in the schoolroom. " He's 
 been so kind ! I wonder what will happen next ! " 
 
 " The skies will fall, perhaps," observed Hugh. " Don't 
 you think that's most likely 1 " 
 
 But the little girls were pouring out their plans to their 
 governess in floods of German, and Hugh was rather mor- 
 tified to find his sarcasm unheeded. 
 
 " Oh, where is Uncle Edward 1" said Charley. " I think 
 I'll go and see if I can meet him, as long as he's in the 
 humour. Do you think he's got any more money about 
 him?" 
 
 " It was such a surprise !" said Lina. " We didn't know 
 papa knew even that there was a Nelly; but he must 
 think a great deal, though he speaks so little ! " 
 
 " Yes ; he's like Hugh that way, but not quite like Hugh. 
 Papa never snarls and thinks it clever." 
 
 " You're not fair, Lally," cried Lina eagerly. " Hugh 
 talks a great deal sometimes, and nicer talk than almost 
 any one else, I know ! You speak as if he never did any- 
 thing but snarl." 
 
 "Oh, I don't mean that he's always disagreeable," said 
 Alice, Avith an air of great uprightness. 
 
 " Thanks for your kind compliments, ladies both," said 
 Hugh, covering over by an affectation of contempt the an- 
 noyance he really felt at Alice's home-thrust. " Perhaps 
 you had better continue to discuss my character some time
 
 314 WHAT WAS DONE WITH THE MONEY. 
 
 when you are alone. You will have more freedom, 
 then." " 
 
 " No; it's much better you should hear," returned Alice. 
 " But we've got something else to talk of now — the things 
 for Nelly. O Fraulein, she needs boots so ! " 
 
 Fraulein was quite willing to give the benefit of her 
 experience and advice ; and when the children went to 
 Aberinnan with her next day, they found with delight that 
 their money reached a good deal further than the purchase 
 of all the articles they had wished for Nelly. With part 
 of what was over Fraulein persuaded them to get some 
 dark gray wool, which Alice and Lina themselves might 
 knit into little stockings. 
 
 " They are always useful ; and we shall make them a 
 little large, in case Nelly's foot has time to grow before 
 they are done," she added, with a smile. But the children's 
 unwillingness to take to anything in the way of needle- 
 work was a source of distress to Fraulein, who was too 
 true a German not to excel in all such feminine labours, 
 and her smile had sadness and reproach in it. 
 
 " Oh, we won't be long in finishing the stockings, 
 Fraulein ; and then with some of the rest of the money 
 we'll get some cotton, and make chemises and petticoats 
 for Nelly." 
 
 " Don't talk too fast," said their governess. " Remem- 
 ber those pretty stools your mamma brought you from 
 Edinburgh. I asked her to bring pretty patterns, which 
 might tempt even you idle ones to work. And the patterns 
 were beautiful." 
 
 " But so much work, Fraulein — so much work ! " 
 
 " Much work ! " said Fraulein, with scorn. " With large 
 canvas and double wool ! Thy mamma finished thine, 
 Ali, in a very few days. Thou wert the industrious child,
 
 LITTLE NEEDLEWOMEN. 315 
 
 Lina, and sewed — how much 1 — nearly the half of thine. 
 Then thy governess had to take it, as thy mamma the 
 sister's ! " 
 
 "Lazy, useless rubbish," said Alice. "What's the use 
 spending hours and hours making a thing like a bit of 
 carpet 1 But sewing clothes for a little girl whose grand- 
 mother is too old to sew, is doing some good in the world." 
 
 " That is true, Ali. Thou wilt employ thy time well in 
 sewing for the orphan," said Fraulein, yielding. She felt 
 that though this girl, who actually preferred plain to fancy 
 work, was an extraordinary phenomenon, it would be 
 highly unwise to check those moral sentiments which it is 
 usually so difficult to instil into young people. Bright 
 colours and soft wools, such as would have been a joy to 
 Fraulein herself, only moved Alice and Lina to great 
 weariness. Some other way must be tried to beguile them 
 into industry. So some sort of clothing for Nelly became 
 henceforth the schoolroom work ; and over this the children 
 began to learn to sew and knit decently, and showed a 
 good deal of perseverance. Their unaccustomed fingers were 
 so slow, however, that there was no immediate chance of 
 the child's wardrobe being overstocked ; and the little black 
 frock was not left in their hands. Fraulein finished that 
 up quickly, with some assistance from Jessie, who also 
 trimmed a hat with crape for Nelly ; and both were so 
 neat that the children were inclined to call themselves 
 hard-hearted for the pleasure they took in the prettiness 
 of what was meant for mourning. 
 
 These uneasy feelings were intensified when Sunday came, 
 the second Sunday after the party and Nelly's mother's 
 death. After dinner Alice and Lina were in the schoolroom 
 as usual, but not at the window. They thought afterwards 
 that Nelly must have been particularly impatient that day,
 
 .'316 hugh's suggestion. 
 
 and made her grandmother bring her to Hopefield earlier 
 than usual ; for her teachers had certainly not begun to ex- 
 pect her, when they heard the patter of little feet in the pas- 
 sage. Then the door-handle was twisted round with some 
 violence, and Nelly entered unannounced, and came forward 
 with a proud light shining in her bonnie brown eyes. Her 
 hat was stuck jauntily at the back of her head; and her new 
 frock was set off with the white muslin pinafore she had worn 
 at the party, now starched and ironed again, and girt about 
 her waist with a bit of black ribbon. In the middle of the 
 floor the little damsel made a halt, crossed her hands on 
 her sash, stuck one shiny boot well out in front of her, and 
 seemed to expect a burst of applause from her teachers. 
 
 In truth, however, Alice and Lina were more inclined 
 to weep with shame and vexation than to admire poor 
 Nelly in her new dress. What was in truth an innocent 
 vanity enough in the child, seemed to them to argue an 
 utter callousness and want of perception which made them 
 sick at heart; and before their reproachful gaze the little 
 Thing spread out her skirt and smoothed her curls in vain. 
 
 " You needn't cut up rough," said Hugh then, without 
 looking up from his book. "The creature doesn't know 
 in the least that her new rig-out has anything to do with 
 her mother." Alice and Lina were so grateful for this 
 suggestion, that they entirely forgot that Hugh's interfer- 
 ence was unlawful ; it was not till afterwards that Lina 
 had time to torture herself with it, as a confirmation of her 
 suspicion that he watched and listened closely behind his 
 big book on Sunday afternoons. 
 
 Meanwhile Alice, who showed a wonderful amount of 
 practical good sense sometimes, had taken her resolution ; 
 and, after hurriedly saying in German to Lina that no 
 notice whatever was to be taken of Nelly's dress, she
 
 NELLY AT HER LESSONS. 317 
 
 turned to the child with some severity. " Always knock 
 at the door, Nelly, before you open it ; and then come in 
 and make a courtesy, and say, ' How do you do, ma'am 1 ' 
 to me, and then, 'How do you do, ma'am 1 ?' to Miss 
 Lina." 
 
 It was surely greatly to Hugh's credit that he main- 
 tained an unmoved countenance during this speech of 
 Alice ; but then he had heard a good many instructions 
 given to Nelly in his time. 
 
 The small maiden seemed considerably discomfited by her 
 reception ; and before she had time to recover herself Alice 
 continued, — "You must come now, and let me hear your 
 verses — all of them. You haven't said them for a fortnight, 
 and I'm afraid you've forgotten them, perhaps. After 
 that, I've something to tell you." 
 
 Nelly came meekly enough to Alice's side ; she had con- 
 siderably tamed down since the day when she chased the 
 kitten across the floor in the midst of her lesson. Very 
 nicely she went through her verses ; and Alice and Lina 
 were soothed down into satisfaction with their work 
 again as she repeated with correct precision psalm and 
 hymn, and then texts of Scripture, all of which had been 
 taught her since she came to Hopefield. 
 
 When Nelly had said everything she knew, Alice and 
 Lina had to consult what her next lesson was to be; and, 
 meanwhile, the little Thing removed her hat, and again 
 smoothed out the front of her pinafore with her two palms. 
 All at once she stopped, as with a sudden thought, and 
 looking up into Alice's face, said, " Muzzer's dead. Did 
 you ken 1 " 
 
 " Mother has gone to Jesus Christ's country," said Alice. 
 
 The little Thing shook her head vehemently. " Na; you 
 dinna ken. Gra'ma put her to sleep ben the hoose ; and
 
 318 MAKING DIFFICULT THINGS PLAIN. 
 
 then some men brought a black box and took her away — 
 and she winna come back again." 
 
 " She's gone to Jesus Christ's country," said Alice again, 
 firmly. " He'll bring her back with him when he comes 
 himself." 
 
 Nelly seemed to ponder, and then asked, "Will he, 
 though 1 " with some doubtfulness in her tone. Alice 
 answered, Yes ; and again Nelly paused, and considered 
 before she said, in a tone of perplexity, " Is Jesus Christ's 
 country in the graveyaird under the ground 1 " 
 
 Lina, with a shudder, said, " Oh no, no ! " But Alice 
 was inclined to say it was, and support her assertion by 
 the Catechism. " Yes, indeed, Lina ; the grave is Jesus 
 Christ's country too. Oh, I wish I could make Nelly 
 understand ! " 
 
 " Let me try," said Lina. " Listen, Nelly, and I'll tell 
 you about it. Your mother went away the night of our 
 Christmas-tree — straight up to God — above the stars — into 
 the Happy Land, far, far away. I think the angels must 
 have carried her; and perhaps they sang as they went 
 through the clouds to heaven. It's much nicer there than 
 here, Nelly. It's very good to be there. Your mother is 
 with Jesus — Jesus, that child so dear and gentle — the Lord 
 in heaven above. Don't you remember your hymn 1 And 
 our mother is there, your mother's teacher that she loved 
 so ; and Mary and Joseph, and the shepherds and the wise 
 men are there ; and the disciples are there ; and the thief 
 on the cross ; and all the Old Testament good people — 
 Abraham, and Jacob, and Job. You don't know about 
 them all yet, Nelly, but you'll learn. Your mother is 
 with Jesus Christ, and all good people, and the kind angels 
 in heaven. It wasn't her really that they laid in the 
 grave. It was only her body. You could see it wasn't
 
 THE CHILDREN'S TALK ABOUT HEAVEN. 319 
 
 your mother, who could speak, and move, and hear what 
 you said. Not your mother that they laid in the grave, 
 only her body." 
 
 "Yes," said Alice. "Her body was ill and very tired, 
 and needed a rest. So it's laid under the ground, dark 
 and quiet for a long, long sleep ; but Jesus Christ is keep- 
 ing watch over it too, and some day — I don't know what 
 day — but some day, his voice will call the dead to rise up, 
 and they'll hear it — deep down in the ground they'll hear 
 it — your mother and our mother too ; and their rest will 
 be over, and they'll get up on the resurrection morning ! " 
 
 " Then there will be a new heaven and a new earth," 
 said Lina ; " and souls and bodies will be together again." 
 
 The children had no difficulty in talking about it all, 
 they had so often gone over it between themselves. The 
 subject of heaven was much in their thoughts, and the 
 passages of Scripture relating to it were all familiar. Even 
 in Lina's anxious mind nothing had ever cast a shadow 
 over her bright images of the future state of God's people — 
 except, perhaps, that line in the hymn about " congrega- 
 tions ne'er breaking up," and that cloud had been very 
 soon dispelled by Lally. But it was far otherwise with 
 the child's ideas of her own meetness for the happy place ; 
 her hope of entrance into the New Jerusalem was pale 
 indeed, compared to her imaginations of its glory. 
 
 " O Nelly," she said, " we must all pray and beseech 
 God," — and she clasped her hands together, while tears 
 started to her eyes — " beseech him to let us enter the gates 
 of the city, and have a right to the Tree of Life." 
 
 "The Holy Spirit will make you ready,'' said Alice, as 
 she had said to Helen Russell once. 
 
 "Oh yes," said Lina; "but it almost seems self-con- 
 ceited to -think one has got that."
 
 320 AN UNEXPECTED ANSWER. 
 
 " Well, isn't it more self-conceited to think you know 
 better than God, who says every one can get it for the 
 asking 1 I suppose you've asked for it ! If not, you can 
 do it now." 
 
 Alice's direct bluntness, which might have seemed irre- 
 verence to those who did not know her, was nevertheless 
 the expression of very deep feelings. And there was sound, 
 practical wisdom in the way she went to the very heart of 
 Lina's difficulties. 
 
 " Lally," said Lina, in an awe-struck whisper, " have 
 you got the Holy Ghost 1 " 
 
 Alice nodded, looking at her sister with steady eyes. 
 " Yes ; I've got some, but not nearly enough. I am ask- 
 ing for more, and I'll get it." 
 
 The by-play of talk between the two little girls had 
 scarcely lasted for a minute, during which Lina had been 
 in that state of highly-wrought feeling which is above all 
 shyness, and had quite forgotten the presence of Hugh and 
 Nelly. She was recalled to the situation when Alice turned 
 to the little Thing, who was sitting perfectly silent on her 
 stool, and said, " So you see, Nelly, you must ask God 
 every day to give you a new heart to make you ready for 
 heaven. And you must always say, ' For Christ's sake.' 
 You'd like to go to heaven, wouldn't you, Nelly 1 " 
 
 " No the noo," was the unexpected answer, given with 
 perfect coolness. 
 
 " Nelly, why ? " 
 
 " Gra'ma would be all her lane," said the little Thing. 
 
 "Yes; you must stay and take care of her. That will 
 be your work, Nelly. But your grandmother will very 
 likely go away first. Ask God to take her and us, and 
 everybody you know, all to heaven when we die. If your 
 work was all done, and everybody was going to heaven
 
 A TRIAL OF FAITH AND PATIENCE. 321 
 
 that you loved, you'd want to go then, wouldn't you, 
 Nelly?" 
 
 But whatever thoughts the small black-eyed morsel of 
 humanity might have had about " her work " and the people 
 she " loved," and all that Alice was talking of so gravely, 
 she would not answer. Her eyes wandered away from her 
 teacher, a sure sign that her attention was going too ; she 
 seemed to have heard enough about Jesus Christ's country 
 and wished to change the subject. Alice and Lina were 
 disappointed; but they had learned ere now by experience 
 that this behaviour of Nelly's by no means proved that 
 their lessons had produced no effect on her mind. Never- 
 theless, their faith and patience were sorely tried by what 
 happened next. While her teachers were making ready the 
 picture-books and the chairs at the table, Nelly's eyes 
 chanced again to fall on herself, and instantly her face 
 beamed with pleasant recollection. She lifted her pinafore 
 and grasped the black skirt underneath in handfuls. " It's 
 French meryno," said Nelly. "Feel what soft!''' Then 
 hastily smoothing down the white muslin to display her 
 sash, she added, " Look at the bit o' bonnie black ribbon 
 gra'ma gave me ! " 
 
 " Nelly ! Nelly ! Nelly ! " was all her teachers could 
 say at first. Then Lina ran to her, and put her arms 
 round her and kissed her, crying, " You poor little child ! 
 you poor little Tiling ! You don't know — you are too 
 little to understand ! You've lost your mother, and you 
 don't know that's why you've got mourning. But God 
 will take care of you ; and so will Lally and I ! " 
 
 When four o'clock came, Lina thought it would be kind 
 to go and see Mrs. Veitch; and as Alice positively refused 
 to accompany her, she took Nelly to the kitchen alone. 
 But when she found the old woman eager with her 
 
 (504 0|
 
 322 HOW LINA WAS CONFOUNDED. 
 
 acknowledgments of the kindness shown to Nelly, and 
 positively beaming with gratification as she pointed out 
 how well the new clothes fitted, Lina wished she had not 
 strained her courtesy quite so far, and eagerly watched an 
 opportunity of escape. This state of Mrs. Veitch's feelings 
 certainly seemed to make poor Nelly's behaviour more ex- 
 cusable, and Lina began to feel sure that the grandmother 
 had impressed on the child that it was not only a pleasure 
 but a duty for her to show herself off to the Miss Hopes, 
 who had given her all her pretty new things. Lina was 
 wondering whether the old woman had any heart at all, 
 when at last Mrs. Veitch, in her commentary on Nelly's 
 dress, arrived at the pinafore; and as she explained how 
 that had been made, tears came, and she had to bury her 
 face in her apron. 
 
 " Oh, don't cry, Mrs. Veitch ! " said Lina, her heart 
 softening immediately. " Your daughter is happy now ! " 
 
 The poor old woman tried hard to wipe away her tears, 
 but they flowed on in spite of her, while she said in a tone 
 of resignation, " Ay, she's happy noo — maybe nearly as 
 happy as if she'd stayed here ! " 
 
 Lina was confounded at being met by ideas so entirely 
 opposed to her own. Helen Russell had been sick and 
 weary and miserable in this life ; and yet her mother 
 seemed to consider it very doubtful if she were not even 
 worse off in the life eternal. 
 
 The old woman, still weeping, wrapped Nelly up in the 
 brown shawl, which she carefully disposed so as to cover 
 her frock from the snow that was falling outside. "While 
 she stooped to pin it, Nelly began to pat her face softly. 
 
 " Muzzcr's gone to Jesus Christ's country," she said in a 
 
 sort of cooing way, and pronouncing her words in uncon- 
 
 »ua imitation of her teacher's manner. " It's very good
 
 LITTLE NELLY'S TALK. 323 
 
 to be zere. Jesus Christ's zere, and lots of other people 
 that you don't know about yet, gra'ma ; but you'll learn ! 
 And you must ask God to take us all some day ; and we 
 must say, ' For Christ's sake.' " 
 
 So the little Thing went on, repeating her lesson almost 
 word for word to her grandmother, to Lina's amazement. 
 She would scarcely stop to kiss her teacher and bid her 
 good-bye ; and she was led off at last by Mrs. Veitch in 
 the full flow of her talk about Jesus Christ and his 
 country, her little voice unceasing till it was out of hearing 
 of Lina standing at the door.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A GREAT CHANGE IN HOPEFIELD. 
 
 | HAT was a long and severe winter. The snow 
 lay on the ground all through January and into 
 the February weeks, and the old people confessed 
 that even in the remarkable days of their youth they re- 
 membered few harder seasons. But the Hopefield children 
 never tired of it; their resources in the way of work and 
 amusement proved inexhaustible. Never had Alice and 
 Lina's lives been so full as now. They had mamma to 
 admire and pet, Hugh and Charley to play and quarrel 
 with, Nelly to watch over and labour for; and in all 
 these things, new interests appeared as the days wore on, 
 and the time between Christmas and spring, which is 
 generally the most trying season of all the year, only un- 
 folded pleasures which prevented all possibility of dulness. 
 It is true that Lina was a good deal confined to the 
 house, being peculiarly susceptible to cold, and in that 
 way very unlike her sister, who was indeed gifted with 
 health more robust than falls to the lot of most mortals. 
 Lina was growing rapidly, looked pale, and was easily 
 tired out ; and her fathei% who was morbidly anxious when 
 once aroused, would not let his wife laugh him out of his 
 fears till he had got the opinion of a town physician about 
 his little girl's health. That opinion was a relief to the 
 minds of older people, and very satisfactory to the young
 
 HAPPY MORNINGS. 325 
 
 patient herself. There was nothing wrong with Lina 
 more than overgrowth and a naturally delicate constitu- 
 tion ; but she must try to get up her strength, and 
 especially avoid exposure or over-exertion — that is to say, 
 she was to be petted thoroughly in the way of lying down 
 on the sofa and getting nice things to eat and drink, never 
 to go out except on bright days, and above all have no 
 regular lessons. 
 
 It was the last part of the sentence which pleased Lina 
 most at the time, and which turned out to be a cause of 
 thankfulness to her all the rest of her life. Lina left the 
 schoolroom lessons altogether for a while ; and as she left 
 them, there opened for her a door into the great world of 
 literature that never more was shut. Scarcely knowing 
 what she was doing, she had fumbled for the key at first, 
 seeking not for love but for duty, not for her own but 
 Nelly's sake ; but when once inside, though but a very 
 little way, Lina began to feel the beauties of the place. 
 
 The child had doubtless inherited studious tastes from 
 her father, but they had been repressed by the methods 
 taken by her teachers of using lessons as a means of filling 
 up time, or inflicting them as a punishment. Perhaps, 
 too, Lina had held back from want of the help of an- 
 other mind, with enough of knowledge to see further 
 than she did, and yet not too far before her to be out of 
 reach of her own difficulties and pleasures. Lina and 
 Hugh spent long and happy mornings now together in the 
 old nursery, while Alice and Charley made life a burden 
 to Friiulein, as she dragged them through their lessons 
 downstairs ; long and happy afternoons, too, in the school- 
 room, while the other riotous couple were out among the 
 snow or on the ice. Lina, following her cousin's lead, 
 dipped into Shakespeare and Milton, revelled in Scott,
 
 326 Alice's companion. 
 
 and, easily infected by Hugh's historical tastes, went with 
 him through volumes of Macaulay with as eager delight 
 as she had ever read her fairy tales. She read with the 
 blessed freedom of childhood, without thought of criticism 
 or incredulity, and bringing her whole self into her book, 
 undisturbed by any thoughts of the cares and business of 
 the outer world. 
 
 But she was not a bit of a genius, remember; only a 
 little girl with a good deal of imagination, who had begun 
 to study first as preparation for a work that she fancied 
 was God-given, and who had found a reward in the joy 
 that her books brought to herself. 
 
 Lina had wished to learn her own language, that she 
 might teach it thoroughly to Nelly some day; so finding 
 leisure hours at her command, she had set about it eagerly, 
 and was herself surprised at the rapid progress she made. 
 Her father was delighted to let her have any book out of 
 the library that she cared for; and Lina taught herself to 
 write English correctly, not only by her constant reading, 
 but by a practice she got into of copying pieces she fancied 
 into a manuscript of her own. 
 
 Now that the little girls were of necessity less together 
 than they had ever been before, it was well that each had 
 a companion to share their pursuits, for Charley was quite 
 as much with Alice as Hugh with Lina. They went skat- 
 ing together, and Alice grew very expert — Fraulein con- 
 fessed that never was German girl more so; she could beat 
 her cousin in a race, too, and practised gymnastics with him; 
 and when the weather broke up a little, and the two took 
 to riding, the pony had exercise enough. Mr. Hope, who 
 was pleased and interested with the bent his younger 
 daughter's inclinations had taken, was somewhat troubled 
 by the tastes Alice manifested, which seemed to him hardly
 
 " HAPPY GIRL ! " 327 
 
 feminine; but his wife always took her part. "Let her 
 be a child as long as she can, and enjoy herself her own 
 way. She'll be none the less a lady afterwards for being 
 a romp now. It's a pleasure to see any one so perfectly 
 healthy." Mr. Hope always yielded to the last remark, 
 which was indeed undeniably true. Alice, as well as her 
 sister, was growing very tall, but she took strength along 
 with her growth; she was a straight, stately girl, with her 
 head beautifully set on her shoulders, blue eyes that looked 
 right at yours fearlessly, and cheeks that bloomed like 
 roses all the winter through. 
 
 " I hope, when Nelly grows up, she'll be like you and not 
 like me, Lally," said Lina to her sister wistfully one even- 
 ing. 
 
 Alice, swinging herself backwards and forwards, chair 
 and all, with her feet well out before her, and her arms 
 clasped together behind her head, could not exactly be said 
 to be in an elegant attitude, but she showed to advantage 
 nevertheless. 
 
 " You do look rather wishy-washy and done up," she 
 said, looking at her sister with some pity. " What makes 
 you go on so 1 ? How does it feel to have a headache, 
 Lina?" 
 
 " Do you mean to say you don't know 1 " asked Hugh. 
 
 " aXo, she doesn't," said Lina, answering for her. " And 
 she scai-cely ever dreams, and she never wakens in the 
 night except I waken her; and she likes to stand better 
 than to sit, and she can walk miles and miles, and ride for 
 hours and hours ! " 
 
 "Happy girl !" said Hu^li then. 
 
 The four children had gathered in the nursery after tea, 
 as they had a way of doing when they did not feel inclined 
 for the society of their elders. Hugh, poker in hand, sat
 
 328 ENTKEATIES FOK A STORY 
 
 close in front of the fire, staring down into it, and every 
 now and then arranging or breaking up the coals with ;i 
 skilful knock; while Charley, kneeling at his side, was 
 making hieroglyphics on a newspaper with a piece of burnt 
 stick. " When Nelly grows up, I hope, for her own sake, 
 she'll be like me," said the latter young gentleman. " There's 
 not much chance of it, though. But I'll draw you a picture 
 here of what she'll really be like, and Hugh will tel] us a 
 story about her love affairs. Go ahead, Hugh !" 
 
 " You shut up," said his brother, rather crossly. 
 
 "No, we don't want to know," said Alice. "I hope 
 Nelly won't have any love affairs. / don't mean to have 
 any. Tell us a story about something else, though, Hugh." 
 
 But Hugh was clearly not in the mood for story-telling, 
 and Lina began to fear that she might have hurt his feel- 
 ings by flaunting her sister's health and strength before 
 him as she had done. It must be confessed, however, the 
 children were rather unreasonable in their expectations of 
 Hugh's stories; for they were given to think that he could 
 begin one at a moment's notice, and spin it out to any 
 length that suited their convenience. They had no con- 
 sideration for inclination, far less inspiration, on his part, 
 and were of opinion that only some cause of offence or 
 ill-humour could hinder him from gratifying their desires. 
 
 " Please, Hugh ! " said Lina, caressing her cousin's knees. 
 "To please me! Mamma says I am not to read much in 
 gaslight for my eyes, and it is so tiresome to do nothing ! " 
 
 "You're getting a petted creature since your illness, 
 Lina," was all the answer Hugh vouchsafed to her entreaties. 
 
 But Lina was nothing daunted. She did not much 
 object to the accusation of being petted, as long as she was 
 addressed with dignity as a person with an illness; her 
 great fear was that her boy-cousins would consider her and
 
 AN EXPECTANT AUDIENCE. 329 
 
 her ailments a humbug. She went on hugging Hugh's 
 knees, and answered in a wheedling tone, " It's so nice to 
 be petted, Hugh ; it makes being ill almost nice, — being 
 half-and-half, I mean, as I am, neither ill nor well. And 
 when one has a great big clever cousin to amuse one, as I 
 have, one is almost glad to have a little bit of a headache, 
 so as to make quite sure he won't be so unkind as not to 
 tell a story." 
 
 Well did Lina know that no one liked more than Hugh 
 to be petted, and petitioned, and made into a person of 
 importance; and now the lines of his mouth relaxed a little, 
 and he fell to poking the fire violently, as he had a way of 
 doing when he was collecting the forces of his imagination. 
 This time they were rather difficult to assemble, however; 
 the poker went slower after a little, and at last he balanced 
 it on his palm, and turned round to the expectant audience, 
 shaking his head. "I can't be bothered; I'm not in the 
 humour, Lina. You think it's just Like turning a tap, and 
 stories come running out." 
 
 The others felt that this was rather hard as the end of 
 what had seemed to them a veiy long silence of waiting. 
 
 " Come, begin," said Alice. " You're wasting time. 
 You've told us no story to-day, and no story yesterday, so 
 it'll be very mean of you if you tell us none to-night. 
 Don't say you can't, but begin. Tell again about Jason; 
 or finish the story about the boys that dressed up and went 
 to a girls' school. I liked that one. Do begin!" 
 
 " Have a heroine in it," said Charley, " for I've got her 
 picture all ready. She's far too good-looking for Nelly — 
 isn't she, Alice 1 " 
 
 " That snaky-haired creature 1 She's got a nose like a 
 reaping-hook ! That would do for the Gorgon, — what do 
 you call her? — not for our Nelly."
 
 330 A TREAT IN PROSPECT. 
 
 " Oh yes, for your Nelly, — only not ugly enough," said 
 Charley. "Come now, Hugh, begin — Once upon a time; 
 or, In Thessaly, beside the tumbling sea. You cribbed 
 that last beginning out of a book of poetry; I looked in 
 and saw as much as that once — " 
 
 " Look in and see more again, then," said Hugh coldly. 
 " I'm not going to tell a story to-night." 
 
 But a gentle pressure of Lina's fingers, and a whisper of 
 " Do, please," from her, made him relent again so far as to 
 take another fit of meditation and fire-poking. He came 
 out of this one with the light of a happy idea in his face ; 
 which, being reflected on the three countenances around, 
 made them shine back at him in eager anticipation of the 
 coming of something delightful. 
 
 " Have you ever read the ' Ancient Mariner ' 1 " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Then you've a treat before you. — Charley, go for 
 Coleridge, like a good fellow ; there's one in the schoolroom 
 bookcase. I'll make you grue," — Hugh rolled his r 
 through his teeth, and rubbed his hands in delight at the 
 idea of the sensation he was going to make with his read- 
 ing, — "you'll all have your hair standing right up; and 
 Alice's face will be as Like a mealy potato as Lina's is 
 before I'm done." 
 
 "Oh, oh!" said the little girls, fidgeting about in their 
 seats in delight at the prospect of the promised hon*ors. 
 They had been rather disappointed at first, when they 
 discovered they were to have a story read, not told; but 
 so complete was their confidence in Hugh's powers of 
 entertaining them, that the feeling wore off altogether into 
 a great longing to hear of the Ancient Mariner. 
 
 In after-years, when Lina took up the poem, she tried in 
 vain to feel again the spell which bound her when first she
 
 HOW LINA WAS AFFECTED. 331 
 
 heard the weird tale in the great bare nursery, where the 
 fire burned low, and the gas seemed strangely dim, while 
 Hugh's voice and the excited breathing of his listeners 
 were the only sounds in the room. Alice enjoyed the 
 reading too; she had a thorough pleasure in the horrible, 
 and the rhythm of the piece caught her fancy, though she 
 was inclined to think the story rather silly and a little 
 profane, and was indignant at the unreasonable manner in 
 which the guest who was next of kin was detained from 
 the wedding-feast. But Lina, for the time being, not only 
 heard of but felt with the " bright-eyed Marinere." It was 
 she who sailed shivering into the land of mist and snow; 
 the evil impulse seized her to kill the albatross : she dreed 
 the weary weird of penance for the evil deed, her eyes 
 beholding the phantom-ship with its deathly inmates come 
 gliding over the shiny sea, her throat drying up with 
 thirst, and her heart sinking within her, as she felt the 
 loneliness of that long calm with the dead men on the 
 deck and the happy living things on the ocean. 
 
 It was off Lina that the curse rolled when the Mariner 
 blessed the creatures unaware; then came the sweet sleep 
 and the cool rain that was sent from heaven; the dead 
 bodies rose and guided the vessel with her, and it moved 
 though she felt no breeze. Most keenly of all, perhaps, 
 she realized the bliss of the home-coming, the hope of 
 pardon brought by the sight of the kirk on the rock above 
 the moonlit bay, the agony of the doubt lest after all this 
 joy should be but a dream. 
 
 " Wc drifted over the harbour bar, 
 And I with sobs did pray, — 
 Oh let me be awake, my God ! 
 Or let me sleep alway." 
 
 What possessed nurse just at this juncture to appear,
 
 332 nurse's intrusion. 
 
 and tell the children they had no business to be in the 
 nursery at that time of night 1 None of them looked at 
 her, and Hugh read steadily on; but she would not go, 
 and her short, broad figure intruded itself disagreeably 
 among the seraph -men that were standing around the 
 Ancient Mariner at that time. 
 
 "The fire oughtn't to be kept on after Mr. Duncan's 
 been here. I never saw anything like the wastry that 
 goes on in this house ! Sit in your own room, girls, if 
 ye can't bide downstairs; the fire's on there already." 
 
 But the days of nurse's power had gone by for ever. 
 She was only an irritating, no more a terrific, object to 
 the children now. She might come and stand in the 
 middle of the flooi*, and look and speak as sternly as she 
 liked, their hearts did not quail in the least. 
 
 She waited for a little, with some idea that Hugh was 
 hurrying to an end of his reading that they might all yield 
 themselves up to her; but the "Ancient Mariner" went 
 on and on, and the children heeded her not. Nurse had a 
 great reverence for printed books ; and though she had 
 come expressly to get Alice and Lina away with her for a 
 talk, she would have been quite willing to leave them to 
 finish their poem in peace, if they had humbled themselves 
 to ask her politely to do so. But their prolonged indiffer- 
 ence to her presence was too galling to be endured, especi- 
 ally as she became convinced that what they were so 
 intent on was not a lesson, or anything akin to a lesson. 
 
 "'0 Wedding-guest! this soul hath been 
 Alone on a wide, wide sea,'" — 
 
 read Hugh, with all the force of intense interest and 
 sympathy with what he read swelling in his thin high 
 voice.
 
 AN UNWELCOME INTERRUPTION. 333 
 
 "Stupid nonsense!" said nurse. "Lina, come away to 
 your bed, ye poor white-faced thing ! " 
 
 The interruption had some effect this time. Charley 
 turned round and made grimaces at her, with emphatic 
 gestures pointing to the door. Alice fixed her eyes on her 
 indignantly, and said in a low tone, " Do get away, will 
 you?" And Lina, her youngest baby, her delicate lamb — 
 for she always called her some such tender epithet in her 
 own mind — Lina, Miss Carrie's namesake, did not even give 
 old nurse a look, but shrugged her shoulders impatiently, 
 and screwed her mouth up into an expression of disgust, 
 then fairly turned her back on the old woman. 
 
 " This verse is thought very good," said Hugh, reading 
 on, only louder and faster, after the interruption : — 
 
 " 'He prayeth best, who loveth best 
 All tilings both great and small ; 
 For the dear God who loveth us, 
 He made and loveth all."' 
 
 The children were with the Mariner again, every one of 
 them, and nurse turned away to the door, muttering to 
 herself as she went. 
 
 "I'll soon be out o't; it's a mercy I'll soon be out o't," 
 was all the children heai*d. But nurse was saying to 
 herself in her heart that her life had been a failure, her 
 labour in vain; she had spent her strength for nought in 
 the Hopefield House. The lady she loved was gone, and 
 as if she had never been; and the children she had nursed 
 so fondly for their mother's sake and their own had grown 
 up, and they disliked and despised her. Surely decent 
 gratitude might have made Alice and Lina leave a silly 
 rhyme, and at least pretend to care for hearing matters 
 that were important to hei\ In her anger she was unjust 
 to the girls, — forgetting that they did not know how much
 
 334 A RESTLESS NIGHT. 
 
 she wanted to have them alone, and what the thing was 
 she had meant to tell them that night. 
 
 Nurse went to her own room, and sat down before her 
 big Bible and clasped her hands upon it, and asked God to 
 let her die, for she was weary of her life. Often and often 
 has that prayer gone up since the Tishbite's time, for it 
 requires no particular greatness of mind to draw it forth, 
 nor is any extraordinary affliction necessary — self-pity and 
 distrust of others are quite enough for it any day. Let us 
 be thankful it goes into the ears of a merciful God, who 
 takes note of the weariness as well as the ill-humour, and 
 now, as he did of old, sends rest and refreshment — often 
 before he sends a rebuke. 
 
 "Well — good, isn't it?" said Hugh, when the reading 
 came to an end in the nurseiy. 
 
 " Good 1 Oh, splendid !" said Lina; " splendid !" 
 " But what brought that tiresome old party in to-night 1 
 She hasn't been bothering much of late, it must be said." 
 
 " No, she hasn't." " No; neither she has," said the little 
 girls, struck by the truth of this remark. " Well, it's to 
 be hoped she'll not bother us more at all," Alice added; 
 and none of them had another thought to spare for nurse 
 just then. 
 
 But that night Lina was very restless. Whether the 
 "Ancient Mariner" had been too exciting for her so near bed- 
 time, or whether something else had gone wrong, she was 
 very feverish, and tossed about for hours in that state be- 
 tween sleeping and waking when one has, of all times, least 
 control over their thoughts. She never got near enough 
 the land of dreams to become unconscious that she was 
 Lina lying in bed beside Lally; but nevertheless the guilt 
 of the slaughter of the albatross was heavy on her soul; and 
 mixed up with this, in the most curious way, lay a sense
 
 UNDER A SPELL. 335 
 
 of some wrong done to nurse, which feeling had certainly 
 been far enough away from her waking thoughts. Oh that 
 big fluttering bird, and that woman with the hard-featured 
 face and the black gown ! Why could she not forget them 
 and sleep in peace ? Her mind, all on the strain, sought 
 out in dark chambers of memory for fragments of the poem 
 and tried to piece them together, while it seemed as if Lina 
 herself struggled against the work in vain. " With my 
 cross-bow, I slew the albatross " — " 'Twas right, said they, 
 such birds to slay, as brought the fog and mist." That 
 was a whole couplet this time; and it was repeated again 
 and again with a horrible emphasis of rhyme that made 
 her head ache : — 
 
 " 'Twas right — said they, such birds to slay, 
 As brought — the fog and mist." 
 
 Where was that verse Hugh thought so good? That 
 must be found now. " He prayeth best — he prayeth best, 
 who — " What came next ? Another " best " certainly at 
 the end of the line, but the word before had gone. And 
 nurse went away, and said she was glad she would soon 
 be out of it ! Why was she glad to be out of it ; and 
 what was it she was glad to be out of? Lina roused up 
 sufficiently for a moment to bring her reason to bear on 
 this question ; b\it it could make nothing of it, and the 
 spell of the " Ancient Mariner " wound round her again. 
 
 " He prayeth best, who loveth best." Ah ! she had the 
 word now. Begin at the beginning again, — 
 
 " He prayeth best, who loveth best 
 All things both great and small ; 
 For the dear God who loveth us, 
 Be made and loveth all." 
 
 Nurse said it was a mere// she would soon be out of it. 
 Tf Lina must say the whole of the Ancient Mariner that
 
 336 ASLEEP AT LAST. 
 
 night, and nurse was continually to interrupt, when would 
 she ever get any rest 1 Oh yes ; she deserved to do penance 
 for killing the albatross, and for making nurse glad to be 
 out of it; but would it never be time for the gentle sleep 
 to steal into her soul 1 Begin at the very beginning and 
 say it all over again. What ! and kill the albatross again] 
 Why, it was hanging round her neck even now ! 
 
 The last fancy was too much for poor Lina. She gave a 
 scream, and pushed down the blankets in terror, and Alice 
 awoke and inquired what was the matter now. 
 
 " O Lally ! I thought the albatross's dead body, and 
 nurse's too, were hanging round my neck!" 
 
 " You've been dreaming !" said Alice. 
 
 " No; I wasn't asleep. At least just half-and-half, and 
 that's worse. Oh, I'm dreadfully stupid." 
 
 " Well, you are," said Alice, but not unkindly; indeed, 
 her patience with Lina's nocturnal fits of nervousness was 
 really remarkable. She rose now, and got her sister a 
 glass of water, and tucked in the clothes again, and beat 
 the pillows, wakening Lina up thoroughly — which was in- 
 deed the only way to dispel her visions and prepare her for 
 a sound sleep. 
 
 " I'm sorry I wakened you, Lally," said she, penitently. 
 
 " All right. I'll sleep soon enough." 
 
 And so Alice did. And so did Lina too; and when she 
 awoke in the morning, she was inclined to be very much 
 ashamed of her terrors. Nevertheless, the impression that 
 she had injured nurse somehow still remained strong enough 
 to make her undertake a forenoon visit to the old woman's 
 room; but she was turned away immediately by a gruff 
 order to " get out of people's road." Lina scarcely knew 
 whether to be vexed or pleased, as the returned to Hugh 
 and her books in the old nursery. She had begun to be a
 
 MYSTERIOUS DOINGS. 337 
 
 little afraid that nurse's mysterious declaration that she 
 would soon be " out of it" might express a presentiment of 
 approaching death; but nurse looked particularly hale and 
 hearty, and her very crossness seemed to argue a prospect 
 of long life for her. Lina felt rather provoked at the recep- 
 tion she had got; but then, on the other hand, it was a 
 relief to be able to make up her mind that nurse had no 
 intention of dying just yet. Nor indeed had she, in spite 
 of her prayer last night; her words to the children were 
 not intended to refer to her projected dissolution, — at least, 
 not in a primary sense. 
 
 The explanation of the matter was, however, discovered 
 by Alice, — who, happening to pass nurse's door that very 
 afternoon, was startled to see her standing before a big 
 open chest in the middle of the floor, in the act of deposit- 
 ing her Confession of Faith and her shiny black Psalm- 
 book therein. At Alice's exclamation of astonishment 
 nurse looked up at her, then walked quickly to the door, and, 
 without uttering a word, shut it in her face. Alice was 
 much mystified, but had no time to consult her sister, as 
 Lina was in the schoolroom, and she was then hurrying 
 down to go out with Mrs. Hope. 
 
 It was a cold and gusty afternoon ; but Alice and her 
 stepmother were so particularly fond of fresh air and exer- 
 cise, that while other people cowered over the fire within, 
 they quite enjoyed a brisk constitutional up and down the 
 east avenue. For some minutes their pace was too rapid 
 and the wind too strong for them to interchange more 
 than a few broken words ; but once come to a more shel- 
 tered spot, they slackened their steps a Little, and Alice, 
 who had now learned to consider Mrs. Hope the fountain- 
 head of all information, proceeded to draw from her what 
 she wanted about nurse. 
 
 564 22
 
 338 NEWS FROM MAMMA. 
 
 " She has a great big box out in her room, mamma, and 
 is packing in her things with a cross, wooden sort of face. 
 The door was open, and I stopped and said ' Oh ! ' and 
 she came and slammed the door as I was standing there." 
 
 " There is nothing wonderful in her packing her things," 
 said Mrs. Hope, " as she says she is going away to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Nurse going away ! Not for altogether 1" 
 
 " Yes ; at least, so she says. She has got lodgings in 
 the village, and thinks she will be more comfortable there 
 than here. I thought she would have told you." 
 
 " She never told me a word of it," said Alice, in great 
 surprise and wrath. 
 
 " I thought she would rather do it herself," said Mrs. 
 Hope, " so I said nothing to you or Lina about it. But, 
 indeed, it is only a few days ago since she came to me and 
 said that she was of no use in the house any more, and 
 that if she were to sit idle in her room all alone, she would 
 rather do it in Aberinnan than here. Poor old thing ! I 
 am sure I was quite willing she should have stayed on, if 
 she could have made herself happy without interfering. 
 But it seems she can't; and as it has come to this, and 
 she is going away, it's better it should bo as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 Mrs. Hope spoke with a sort of extra coolness in her 
 manner, as she had a way of doing when she was uncer- 
 tain of the reception her words would meet with. Her 
 husband had been quite shocked to hear of nurse's approach- 
 ing departure, and had spoken of it as sure to be a great 
 loss and grief to the children ; so Mrs. Hope, as she told 
 her news, was rather curious about Alice's feelings. But, 
 indeed, Alice did not know in the least what her own feel- 
 .ings were, beyond the fact that she was in a great wonder ;
 
 HOW ALICE RECEIVED THE NEWS. 339 
 
 she returned the inquiring glance her stepmother gave her 
 with an open-eyed stare of amazement. 1ST ur.se going away 
 for altogether ! Such an idea had never once occurred to 
 her before. It would have seemed almost as likely that 
 the familiar hills should change their places, or the trees 
 walk away from the house they had sheltered so long, as 
 that nurse should leave Hopefield. 
 
 "Are you very sorry 1 ?" asked Mrs. Hope, when they 
 had walked on a few steps in silence. 
 
 "No; oh no! Why should I be? Oh no! I am not 
 sorry. Glad, I think." 
 
 Mrs. Hope laughed, feeling a good deal amused, and 
 somewhat relieved. " Now, I do think that rather hard- 
 hearted of you — to care so little for a poor old woman 
 who's taken care of you all your life, and is so very fond 
 of you." 
 
 " She's not in the least fond of us, mamma," said Alice, 
 very earnestly. "I don't know how you can possibly 
 think that. If she were fond of us, it would be quite a 
 different thing. Of course, we would love her back again 
 then. But she doesn't like us, and we don't like her at 
 all." 
 
 " My dear Alice, any one with half an eye can see that 
 nurso thinks you and Lina the most beautiful and wonder- 
 ful children that ever lived." 
 
 " Oh no ; that's quite impossible to be true," persisted 
 Alice, getting quite indignant at her stepmother's strange 
 delusion. " Whenever she sees other children, she tells us 
 how much better they behave, and how much nicer they 
 look, than we do. And when we were little, she used to 
 scold us and beat us very often." 
 
 " I have no doubt you deserved it," said Mrs. Hope, who 
 nevertheless felt it a little odd that she, win mi nurse (lis
 
 340 A CONVERSATION ABOUT NURSE. 
 
 liked so much, should be taking the old woman's part against 
 her nursling. 
 
 " "Well, perhaps. I suppose it does children good to be 
 whipped. But nurse never did kind things to us to make 
 up for it — at least vexy, very seldom. Fraulein is gener- 
 ally very good to us ; and Jessie means to be nice some- 
 times ; and you are always doing nice things and saying 
 nice things : but nurse is quite different from that, mamma. 
 She's the only enemy Lina and I have in the world. And 
 sometimes I am so angry with her, I can't forgive her her 
 trespasses a bit, and have to leave that part out of the 
 Lord's Prayer." 
 
 "I hope that doesn't often happen," said Mrs. Hope, 
 trying hard to compose her tone into a gravity that would 
 suit the air of solemn indignation with which Alice 
 spoke. 
 
 " Not often lately. I think I'm not so very wicked as I 
 used to be ; and nurse has been keeping more out of our 
 way. It'll be much better still to have her out of the 
 house. Dear me, no — she's not in the very least bit of a 
 morsel fond of us, mamma ; and of course we are not sorry 
 she is going away." 
 
 Mrs. Hope argued no more with Alice ; but the impres- 
 sion she carried away from the conversation was, that 
 people talk a great deal of nonsense about the unerring 
 instincts of children. The one trait in nurse's character 
 which seemed specially prominent to all, was her devotion 
 to her mistress's children ; and here was one of them declaim- 
 ing, in tones of the deepest conviction, that she had no 
 affection for them whatever ! 
 
 Of course, as soon as Alice entered the house she flew to 
 Lina, and related to her what she had seen in nurse's room, 
 and the subsequent conversation with Mrs. Hope ; and, as
 
 THE CHILDREN'S DECISION. 3 1 1 
 
 had happened in her sister's case, the first effect of the 
 news was to throw Lina into utter bewilderment. 
 
 " Nurse going away to-morrow ! " 
 
 " Yes. It's queer, isn't it 1 Mamma asked me if I was 
 sorry. I said, No, I was glad." 
 
 " So am I glad, I suppose," said Lina, after a pause. 
 
 The children could think or talk of nothing else all 
 evening. "Whatever their feelings were about being glad 
 or sorry, they certainly did not underrate the importance 
 of the event. 
 
 " Will you not go up and sit with nurse a little ? " 
 Fraulein asked after tea. " She will want to talk to you." 
 
 " No, no, we can't go ; she doesn't want to talk to us 
 now," they said. But Lina added regretfully, " I do wish 
 things hadn't gone wrong last night. I do wish we had 
 spoken to her, in spite of the ' Ancient Mai'iner.' I'm afraid 
 we were very unkind. It's very dreadful, — at least, it's 
 very queer that she's going away." 
 
 " Go to her now, and be good to her," said Fraulein. 
 " You will all be glad afterwards." 
 
 " We can't go again," said Alice and Lina. " She drove 
 us away to-day already. We aren't going again." 
 
 Their decision could scarcely be wondered at ; yet, if they 
 had only known — nurse upstairs was Avatching, waiting, 
 yearning for the sound of their dear feet and the cheerful 
 ring of their voices. Over and over again she was at the 
 door, when she thought she heard them coining ; but she 
 was always mistaken. Alice and Lina shut themselves up 
 in the schoolroom till bed-time; and nurse did not choose to 
 visit their room, for Jessie was always in attendance when 
 they were undressing, and Mrs. Hope very often came to 
 see them after they were in bed. 
 
 That night again Lina was troubled with some visions of
 
 342 TAKEN AT HER WORD. 
 
 the albatross, but her sleep was sweet and unbroken com- 
 pared to what visited poor nurse, who felt she was to rest 
 no more under the Hopefield roof. All her pride was 
 broken down during these terrible lonely hours. She no 
 longer accused Alice and Lina of ingratitude ; even the 
 thought of their stepmother scarcely moved her to indigna- 
 tion ; she knew and felt nothing, except that she was desert- 
 ing Miss Carrie's children, and doing it of her own choice. 
 
 Nurse arose next morning quite stupified, and unable to 
 think about or arrange anything. But all was ready for 
 her departure ; there was no more thinking about it 
 needed. Nurse was not the woman to let the grass grow 
 under her feet, after she had resolved what to do. The 
 idea of leaving Hopefield had been floating more or less 
 distinctly in her mind for months, but it had been firmly 
 fixed several days ago, when, in reply to a dark and 
 threatening hint of hers to that effect, Mrs. Hope had told 
 her, with perfect cordiality of manner, that she was quite 
 right, — it would be much better she should have some 
 cozy little place of her own, where she could do as she 
 liked. Unprepared as nurse doubtless was for being taken 
 so promptly at her word, pride upheld her, bringing her 
 speedily and successfully through all the business necessary 
 to be done before her removal, and remaining with her till 
 that very last night when she waited in vain for Alice and 
 Lina. 
 
 She had said she wanted to leave early in the morn- 
 ing, and about ten o'clock she went downstairs ready- 
 dressed and knocked at the schoolroom door. Alice and 
 Lina left the piano and came to bid her farewell, looking 
 awkward and wistful, not kissing her, only shaking hands. 
 Their fair heads were almost as high as nurse's own : their 
 mother had had such golden hair ; but she was a little
 
 SAYING GOOD-BYE. 343 
 
 thing when nurse brought her to Hopefield, the orphan- 
 cousin, to be Miss Amy's playfellow, more than thirty years 
 ago now. Nurse had spent nearly an ordinary lifetime in 
 the house she was quitting with such apparent coldness. 
 
 " Good-bye, Alice — good-bye, Carolyne — good-bye, Frew- 
 len," she said, speaking gruffly alike to governess and chil- 
 dren. But then she stopped, and seemed struggling to say 
 something ; and I believe the parting might have ended in 
 tenderness after all, had not -Mrs. Hope — who, to do her 
 j ustice, was quite ignorant of what was going on — appeared 
 on the scene just then. Mrs. Hope looked bright, and 
 beautifully dressed, and pleased with herself and every- 
 thing else, as she usually looked; and, as if in mockery of 
 poor old nurse's deposition, she carried a great bunch of 
 keys in her hand. The old woman froze into dignity 
 immediately, resolute not to let her victorious adversary 
 see how sorely wounded the defeat had left her. She 
 turned away from the children quickly, and would have 
 passed Mrs. Hope with a courtesy of ironical respect; but 
 now, as ever, that young lady was mistress of the situation, 
 and her ready tact showed her that she would put herself 
 in the wrong if she failed in consideration to one who had 
 been so long a valued inmate of her husband's household. 
 Mrs. Hope shook hands with nurse, and exhorted her to 
 wrap up well for her cold drive ; and ordered the waggonette 
 to the front door for her ; nay, she even went and routed 
 her husband out of his library to bid his old servant fare- 
 well. And his were the only words of regret nurse heard 
 about her departure. 
 
 " I'm very sorry you must leave us, nurse," said Mr. 
 Hope. "We always thought that you considered this 
 your home ; but, of course, you know best what you like ; 
 and we shall try to make you comfortable wherever you
 
 34 1 SOMETHING STRANGE. 
 
 go. Many thanks for all yon have done for my chil- 
 dren." 
 
 It was much from a man of so few words as he, and 
 nurse could scarcely bear it. With some mutterings about 
 "going because she was no more use," she hurried away, 
 looking neither to the right nor the left, and staying not 
 to bid farewell to any one else. The children did not fol- 
 low her to the door ; they did not even go to a window 
 from which they could wave to her as she drove away; 
 they both turned slowly back into the schoolroom. 
 
 " Nobody to scold us now ! " said Alice. " Mce, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 " Oh yes, I suppose so," said Lina. " Yery nice." 
 
 And then a strange thing happened. With the con- 
 gratulatory words on their very lips, the children's eyes 
 chanced to meet, and each saw that the other was crying.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 NURSE AT ABERINNAN. 
 
 |HE Hopefield household did not fall to pieces after 
 nurse had gone, though the children felt as if it 
 must have been shaken to its foundations. But 
 indeed the lives of others seemed to go on smoothly enough ; 
 it was only Alice and Lina who felt a great blank in theirs. 
 They had never before known how much the sight of that 
 erect, square figure and the sound of that familiar voice 
 had made of home to them, nor what a tower of strength 
 that upstairs-room had been when nurse sat knitting there. 
 It was not that they had seen much of her of late; but 
 they always knew they had her, their own old nurse, 
 whom deep down in their hearts they trusted thoroughly. 
 Now that she was gone, and they met her no more on the 
 stairs or in the passages, and she never came to visit them in 
 bed at nights, and her chamber was silent and empty and 
 deserted, they realized for the first time all the faithful old 
 woman had been to them. In their longings for nurse, they 
 felt that her very scoldings would have been musical, and a 
 great bowl of gruel the most refreshing thing imaginable. 
 
 Their regret, too, was not unmingled with remorse, for 
 they began to think that they had not been what they 
 ought to have been to nurse, and wondered — as we all do 
 when we have lost those we love — how they ever could 
 have got angry witli any one so dear.
 
 346 FORLORN AND HELPLESS. 
 
 " If we had been good to her, perhaps she would have 
 stayed," said Lina. "If we had been good to her, she 
 would have loved us too much to leave us. And she would 
 have been sure to have got fond of mamma in a little; she 
 couldn't have helped it." 
 
 But nurse was away, and her children felt forlorn and 
 helpless, as if they were birdlings newly turned out of the 
 nest. Their condition was perfectly plain to every one 
 who saw them. Mrs. Hope tried to give comfort by say- 
 ing they would soon feel all right again; but for once Alice 
 and Lina did not agree with her. For this grief was not 
 like ordinary griefs, which have to be endured for a little, 
 and then pass away. They had been so bewildered by it at 
 first, that they did not recognize it as a trouble at all; but 
 it forced itself gradually upon them, its terrible character 
 growing plainer and plainer as the days went on. Sunday 
 was the worst time of all ; for though Alice had been look- 
 ing forward to seeing her old friend in church, even this 
 turned out to be only more pain. No nurse came to sit 
 among the Hopefield servants, and it was long before Alice 
 espied the well-known bonnet in a pew close to the door ; 
 then, by the time the little girl got out of church it had 
 disappeared altogether in the crowd, and she could not go 
 in pursuit, for snow was falling, and her father hurried her 
 into the carriage. Truly Alice brought a heavy burden of 
 disappointment to share with poor Lina, who, confined to 
 the house by the weather, counted the minutes till Lally 
 came home, hoping for good tidings of nurse. 
 
 Even Nelly turned out to be anything but a comfort to 
 her teachers in their trouble. "Whether the little Thing 
 had been listening to some of the talk among her elders, 
 or whether the question was prompted merely by her own 
 wayward fancy, certain it is she stopped short in the
 
 REPARATION TO NURSE. .347 
 
 recitation of her texts, and asked suddenly, " Whaur's 
 nurse ? " 
 
 " Gone," they told her. 
 
 Nelly finished her verse, then put another question : " la 
 she awa' to Jesus Christ's country 1 " 
 
 It was too much for Alice and Lina ; and Nelly had the 
 rest of her lesson amidst falling tears. For the children 
 felt they could almost have borne it better if nurse had 
 gone to Jesus Christ's country: they would have felt it 
 selfish to grudge her going to the happy place; but now, 
 though she was lost to them completely, she had only 
 departed to a solitary lodging at Aberinnan, where there 
 was no reason at all to suppose she was particularly blessed. 
 
 After Lina had delivered Nelly up to her grandmother 
 in the kitchen, she made a sad pilgrimage up to nurse's 
 room ; and when she arrived at the shrine, she found Alice 
 already there. The two sat on the floor and wept for some 
 time, without speaking a word. At last Lina sobbed out, — 
 
 " Lally — I think we ought— I think we'd feel better — if 
 we said the Shorter Catechism." 
 
 It was the lesson nurse had taught them, which they had 
 always hated, and against which for the last few months 
 they had entirely rebelled. But there had been a time in 
 the golden age of nurse's power, when the little girls sat in 
 that chamber every Sunday afternoon, while nurse, with 
 her spectacles on, and the brown " Confession of Faith " 
 before her, questioned them from " What is the chief end 
 of man 1 " to " What does the conclusion of the Lord's 
 Prayer teach us 1 " And now Lina felt that to repeat the 
 Catechism of their own free will, and in this cold and 
 deserted room, would be in some way a satisfaction to them- 
 selves, and a reparation to nurse, for all the insubordina- 
 tion of past days. Nor was Alice of a different opinion.
 
 348 DOING PENANCE. 
 
 "Go for a Catechism, then. No, I'll go myself; don't 
 you bother." Since Lina had been delicate, Alice had 
 learned a good many lessons of serving herself and her 
 sister too ; and when she came back with the Catechism, 
 she brought a big plaid also. 
 
 " Wrap that about you, and don't catch cold — over head 
 and all — don't let out anything but your nose. I'll hear 
 you; then I'll ask the next question, and shut the book and 
 answer it myself, — of course I'll keep my thumb in." 
 
 It was an odd yet pathetic sight, to see the children per- 
 forming their penance, seated opposite each other on the 
 carpet — Lina shivering and sobbing under her muffling of 
 gray plaid, and Alice straight and solemn, putting her 
 questions with a steady gravity which was soon far removed 
 from tears. They felt very much better after their exercise 
 was concluded; but nevertheless it could not be said that 
 the faces they brought downstairs when the gong sounded 
 for tea were at all cheerful. Mrs. Hope noted it, and was 
 vexed. She was too good-natured not to like to see every 
 one happy around her; though it is probable that if the 
 children and their griefs had not been in her presence, they 
 would not have been in her mind either. As it was, she 
 exerted herself very much to entertain them during the 
 evening — read aloud, and volunteered to play hymns on 
 the drawing-room piano; but though Alice and Lina were 
 grateful for her kindness and the honours she was doing 
 them, they were not in a state to enjoy anything: they 
 wiped their eyes surreptitiously during the most cheerful 
 parts of the story, and cared to sing nothing but " Here 
 we suffer grief and pain." 
 
 There was nothing for it but to send them off to bed as 
 soon as possible, to forget their sorrows in sleep, — which, 
 happily, even Lina was able to do, thanks, as she believed,
 
 A HAPPY IDEA. 349 
 
 to lier adherence to a habit of her early childhood of always 
 putting up a special prayer for peaceful rest on Sunday 
 night. This practice had probably originated in nurse's 
 warnings of the possible consequences of the dainties allowed 
 at tea, for the prospect of bad dreams had been a terrible 
 terror to little Lina; but she found her weekly petition 
 a comfort still, when her pangs of conscience were no longer 
 about an extra piece of cake or spoonful of jelly, but about 
 her own devotional shortcomings, or some knotty theologi- 
 cal puzzle she had picked out of the sermon of the day. 
 
 When, on the Monday morning in question, Lina was 
 wakened first by Jessie at the door, she was inclined to 
 think that the long and dreamless slumber she had enjoyed 
 was a special gift of Providence, because she had been so 
 wretched and needed it so. She offered a thanksgiving for 
 the night's rest before she left her pillow, and rose not a 
 little comforted. 
 
 " It's a pleasure to see the sun once more," said Mrs. 
 Hope at breakfast-tirne. " Suppose you two girls go and 
 pay a visit to nurse this forenoon 1 If you wrap up well, 
 and go in the close carriage, I don't see that it can do Lina 
 any harm." 
 
 It was a happy idea. Alice's forenoon lessons were 
 curtailed, and before twelve o'clock the two children were 
 driving into the village, full of dignity and importance, 
 in the seat facing the horses. The cottage in which 
 nurse had taken lodgings was a new one on the outskirts 
 of Aberinnan, the property of a prosperous shoemaker, 
 whose wife had once been a servant at Hopefield. Nurse 
 was not the woman to choose her abode in any house with- 
 out full assurance of the respectability of the inhabitants 
 and the cleanliness of their dwelling; and certainly this 
 place looked white and shining enough to Alice and Lina,
 
 350 " THERE SHE IS ! " 
 
 as they stepped across the little bit of garden up to the 
 open door. 
 
 " Is our nurse, Mrs. Corbet, at home 1 " Alice asked very 
 gravely of the young woman who came out to them smil- 
 ing and shy, with a round-eyed infant in her arms. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am. Will you please go iipstairs 1 " 
 
 Mrs. M'Nab, in her politeness, had no idea of going first 
 to show her young visitors the way; and though there 
 was little chance of straying far, the children were rather 
 embarrassed, and went slowly up the narrow wooden stair- 
 case, on whose high steps their feet seemed to make a most 
 remarkable noise. 
 
 " To the left hand, please," said Mrs. M'Nab, following 
 and pointing to one of the three closed doors which met 
 A lice and Lina's anxious gaze at the top. 
 
 But even as she spoke a latch clicked ; the nearest of the 
 inhospitable-looking portals opened with a jei'k; there was 
 a moment's glimpse of a figure in a short black gown and a 
 close cap, and a hurried ejaculation of — "My dear bairns ! " 
 
 "There she is !" cried Mrs. M'lSTab, triumphantly point- 
 ing out their nurse to Alice and Lina. 
 
 " There she is ! " cried they, identifying Mrs. M'Nab's 
 lodger. 
 
 But nurse had disappeared again as rapidly as she came ; 
 and when the little girls made their way after her into her 
 room, she was down on her knees poking and blowing at 
 the fire with all her might. 
 
 " How do you do, nurse 1 " said the children, coming and 
 standing behind her. 
 
 " My dear bairns ! " she said again, and then jumped up 
 and put two chairs right in front of the fireplace. " Sit ye 
 doun there, Lina, my bonnie lamb, and warm your feet. 
 Alice, my dear, tak' a seat. My dear bairns ! "
 
 nurse's new home. 351 
 
 "Words seemed to fail her again, and she made a rush to 
 a corner of the room, tugged at a chair there without bring- 
 ing it out; opened a drawer, and shut it again ; finally rubbed 
 her eyes heai-tily with her apron — which was probably what 
 she went there to do, though it was a proceeding the chil- 
 dren were inclined to think more worthy of Mrs. Yeitch 
 than their nurse. Never had they seen her in such a state 
 of agitation before ; but her retirement seemed to compose 
 her, for she returned, not, to be sure, with her ordinary 
 manner, but with such as they had sometimes experienced 
 when she was in a state of very high good-humour. 
 
 " An' hoo did ye come, my clears 1 " 
 
 " In the carriage," they said with considerable prida 
 " There's some shopping to be done in the village. George 
 has to go to the butcher's and some other places ; then he's 
 coming back for us here in half an hour. I had no French 
 this forenoon," added Alice ; " I stopped lessons at a quarter 
 to eleven, on purpose to come." 
 
 Nurse had been feasting her eyes on their faces ; and 
 meanwhile the children's looks wandered about the room, 
 which was a large, light, bay- windowed attic, with un- 
 painted wood shining cheerfully, and a bed gaily draped 
 with brightly-coloured chintz curtains. The " Confession 
 of Faith " and the Psalm-book on the chest of drawers, and 
 a cabinet photograph of Alice and Lina above the mantel- 
 piece, were the only familiar objects to be seen, and seemed 
 to stamp the chamber with signs of nurse's occupancy. 
 
 " I like this room, nurse," said Lina. 
 
 " The one at home is better," said Alice shortly. 
 
 To this nurse made no reply, but turned to a press in the 
 wall, from which she brought out a baker's paper bag, a 
 tall glass bottle, and a couple of jam-pots still unopened, 
 which she placed on the table
 
 352 LAVISH HOSPITALITY. 
 
 " Ye'll be needin' a piece," she observed at last, when she 
 was searching again in the press for plates and wine-glasses. 
 
 " Well, we are rather hungry; but don't trouble yourself 
 — we can wait very well till dinner-time," said Alice, con- 
 sidering this answer as an admirable combination of truth 
 and politeness. 
 
 " It'll be ill luck if you don't taste in my new hoose," 
 said nurse, with an attempt at jocularity. 
 
 " We'd far rather taste in your old," replied Alice. 
 Nevertheless, she was watching with pleased curiosity the 
 proceedings of nurse, as she poured out ginger-wine and 
 spread sweet biscuits with a liberal supply of jam. 
 
 " Miss Lally, you like black currant. There's some 
 rasp for you here, Carolyne, dearie." 
 
 " Oh, don't open another pot for me, please," remonstrated 
 Lina. 
 
 But nurse was determined that, this first time her bairns 
 came to visit her, they should have a feast arranged with 
 special reference to their tastes, even in the smallest matters. 
 " Hoots, what's the use of keeping it shut, when ye like 
 rasps, my dear ? An' hoo's little Nelly Russell 1 " 
 
 Truly the way in which nurse sought out an agreeable 
 subject of conversation for her visitors, was scarcely less 
 wonderful than the lavish hospitality with which she 
 treated them. Was this indeed the person who used to 
 tell Alice and Lina that they " deaved her ears with their 
 noise," or bid them "eat what they got, and be thankful"? 
 It was very strange, but nevertheless pleasant, so to bask 
 in the sunshine of nurse's favour, toasting their feet at her 
 fire, and leisurely disposing of sweet mouthfuls between 
 their fragments of talk. 
 
 "Nelly is very well, thank you. She came to us yester- 
 day all right. She was asking about you."
 
 FRAGMENTS OF TALK. 353 
 
 "Was she?" said nurse, well-pleased. "She's a real 
 wise bairn." 
 
 " Yes," said Alice in triumph. " You know that. And 
 that's what Jessie will never give in to. But Nelly is 
 going to grow up wise and good both; at least, not quite 
 good — she can't be that, you know — but very good, I hope. 
 You see that she is not like others. You know all about 
 children, and understand. It is Jessie's ignorance makes 
 her talk as she does." 
 
 " Nelly can say, ' Come unto me, all ye that labour and 
 are heavy laden,' now," put in Lina ; " and we've begun 
 to teach her a new text: ' When my father and my mother 
 forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.' Fraulein 
 advised us to teach her that, because, from some things 
 Mrs. Veitch told her, she thinks that Nelly's mother liked 
 to think of that text for her." 
 
 " Ah me ! Helen Veitch, poor lassie," said nurse then. 
 " A.h, weel, she was wild enough once, but a nice bit thing 
 with it all, and awfu' bonnie. I mind her weel, — a little 
 lassie with black e'en, and her head all over curls, no 
 bigger than your Nelly." 
 
 "I did like Nelly's mother," said Alice. "I miss her 
 very much; but I wouldn't have her back again. She 
 was very tired of being here, I think ; and she didn't need 
 to stay, even to take care of Nelly. She knew very well 
 the good Lord would take her up; and so he has, and given 
 her to Lina and me." 
 
 " Mrs. Veitch helps, of course," said Lina ; " but really 
 not so very much. She scolds and scolds at Nelly when 
 she isn't a bit angry, so that Nelly's got not to mind scold- 
 ings a bit. And she tells her lies, so that Nelly's got not 
 to believe her, even when she tells the truth. And she 
 doos such stupid things, and thinks she is doing so well. 
 
 1664) 23
 
 354 ALL ABOUT NELLY. 
 
 Last week she was so horridly nasty to Nelly, and made 
 Lally and me so angry." 
 
 " So she did. Let me tell that, Lina. — But do you 
 really care to hear, nurse 1 ? Are you sure you wouldn't 
 like to hear something else better ] " 
 
 Nothing did Alice and Lina love to talk about so much 
 as Nelly and her concerns ; and it required a remarkable 
 effort of self-control and consideration for others to avoid 
 breaking into a story about their darling whenever the 
 chance offered. 
 
 But now Alice stopped, and would not go on till nurse 
 had assured her she would like very much to hear all they 
 could tell her of Nelly. Nor indeed was this untrue, for 
 nurse's feelings were still too proud and sore on many 
 points not to dread touching ; and nothing could be a safer 
 subject of conversation than this little daughter of her dear 
 mistress's favourite, the motherless child whose connection 
 with modern Hopefield was solely through Alice and Lina's 
 love. And as they talked of Nelly, the old woman was 
 quite content to stand and gaze into the animated counte- 
 nances of the children, tracing likenesses to their mother 
 in their expression and manner, and fancying she saw 
 precocious piety in their childish zeal and affection. 
 
 " Nelly does so love to run away," said Alice. " Often 
 and often her grandmother finds her on her way to the 
 House. Perhaps Mrs. Yeitch told you that, though, her- 
 self? I'm sure I don't know why she does not let her 
 come on. We would be glad to see her at any time." 
 
 " "We oughtn't to want her to come without leave," said 
 Lina. 
 
 " Of course, we wouldn't tell her we were glad," said 
 Alice, who prided herself on being a rigid disciplinarian. 
 " We would scold her well, and take her back to her
 
 MAKING UP A GHOST. 355 
 
 grandmother, and make her beg her pardon. But Nelly 
 runs outside the gate too, as well as up the avenue, and 
 that's what makes Mrs. Veitch frightened. She's afraid 
 she goes to the river, as she did the day we found her. 
 And so she might, and tumble in, and no one be near to 
 pull her out. So it's quite right of Mrs. Yeitch to be 
 frightened. That isn't wrong at all. But what do you 
 think she did to keep Nelly from going outside the gate 1 — 
 what do you think she did, nurse 1 " 
 
 " Wheeped her," guessed nurse with composure. 
 
 " Not she ! I don't believe she could whip anybody. 
 She got that big Henderson boy (Jamie's his name) to 
 dress himself up like a hobgoblin, or a ghost, or a skeleton, 
 or some of those creatures Lina's always afraid of, with a 
 white sheet and a blackened face, and all sorts of dreadful 
 things. The horrid old woman, to frighten our Nelly, 
 who never knew thei-e were any such things ! Of course 
 the boy did it. Capital fun for him, you know. If he 
 had only gone and frightened somebody proper — some 
 grown-up person who wouldn't have minded — of course it 
 would have been quite right. But Mrs. Veitch got him 
 dressed up, and put him outside the door all ready, and left 
 the door open on purpose to let Nelly go out; and Nelly 
 went, and he came jumping round the side of the house at 
 her." 
 
 " Was she awfu' feart 1 " 
 
 " Not so much as I would have been," said Lina. " I 
 believe, if any one frightened me like that, my heart would 
 stop beating, and I'd die. But Nelly is very courageous, 
 though she's so little. Only, of course, she must have been 
 a good deal frightened ; but not so terribly as she might 
 have been. She wanted to warn Lally and me not to come 
 near the west gate, — or, at least, take care when we came, —
 
 356 WAS IT RIGHT? 
 
 for there was a beast there. She spoke so fast, and there 
 were lights like lamps kindled up behind her eyes ; but, of 
 course, we couldn't understand what she meant, though it 
 was all out of real kindness, dear little Thing ! But Lally 
 and I thought she must be making up, or have been dream- 
 ing, and we managed to stop her talking about it : it wasn't 
 very easy, but we did it. It wasn't till afterwards we 
 found out that our Nelly had told the truth ; it was other 
 people who had been deceiving her. Jessie told us Mrs. 
 Veitch had been telling all about it in the kitchen, and 
 triumphing, and thinking she had done such a very clever 
 thing." 
 
 " Now, nurse," said Alice, " you see. Wasn't it a great 
 shame to try to terrify a little young child like that, and 
 then think it a good idea ] " 
 
 " It might have put the bairn in a fit," said nurse. 
 
 " Of course it might — a regular fit," said Alice, who had 
 the very vaguest ideas what she meant, but felt quite 
 satisfied it was something sufficiently dreadful. 
 
 " Mrs. Veitch is a poor, feckless body," continued nurse. 
 " I tellt her, better thrash the bairn than tell her lees." 
 
 " Ever so much better," said Alice. " But Mrs. Veitch 
 doesn't know how to bring up children. I suppose she 
 means well, poor creatm-e. But it's come to this, — that 
 Nelly scarcely believes a word her grandmother says to her; 
 and that's a very sad state for any child to get into. Now, 
 when we were little, and you said, ' Stop that, or I'll come 
 and make you,' we knew perfectly well you would do it; 
 and when you used to say, ' Alice Hope, you're the worst- 
 behaved girl I ever set eyes on,' of course I knew it was 
 true." 
 
 " My bonnie lassie," said nurse, with a sudden compunc- 
 tion, " I never said that, surely."
 
 A SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY. 357 
 
 " Oh yes, nurse, — often." 
 
 " Only," put in Lina, laughing a little, " we used to hope 
 that perhaps you hadn't seen many girls." 
 
 Nurse was so touched by these childish reminiscences, 
 that she would fain have cast a doubt upon this very 
 truthfulness of hers which Alice was vaunting ; but she 
 had no time given to declare that she never could have 
 called Missy the worst girl she ever knew, or that, if she 
 did say so, she certainly never meant it. Alice and Lina 
 were in a hurry to pass on from the subject. They had 
 only brought up these old sayings, as it were, by the way, 
 to seiwe as illustrations of the fact that it was not neces- 
 sary to practise deceit and fraud in the rearing of children. 
 Now they had served, as they thought, their purpose, they 
 let them go, and thought no more of them again, — quite 
 unconscious of the effect that had been made upon nurse 
 by this proof of their implicit and literal belief in her 
 strong language. 
 
 " So you see," said Lina, " we've a great deal to do for 
 Nelly. We feel dreadfully responsible at times — especially 
 in bed. Nelly will need to learn so much! And her 
 grandmother won't be able to teach her anything — except, 
 perhaps, to wash and — " 
 
 " Tell what isn't true," suggested Alice, grimly. 
 
 " O Lally, that isn't what I meant to say. I meant to 
 say wash and iron." 
 
 " Mrs. Veitch is quite as likely to teach her the other 
 thing," said Alice. " We must look out. I'll tell Nelly 
 about Ananias and Sapphira soon." 
 
 "Yes," said Lina with a great sigh, which was more of 
 pride than care, however. " There is a great deal to do and 
 be thought of about our child, — a very great deal indeed." 
 
 Then there was silence for a minute or two, while both
 
 358 SCOTCH AND GERMAN. 
 
 nurse and the children were thinking their own thoughts. 
 It seemed strange for Alice and Lina to be sitting with 
 nurse in this unfamiliar room; stranger still, to be talking 
 to her in this confidential way about Nelly. 
 
 " Ye're good bairns," said nurse, rousing herself out of 
 her reverie at last, " an' ye mean to do weel; but ask the 
 Lord to help ye, or ye'll never get on." 
 
 " That's the first thing you ever said like Friiulein," said 
 Alice. " She is always telling us to ask the Lord to help 
 us, and we would be sure to get on. She said it in German 
 — that was the only difference." Alice seemed much struck 
 by this proof of the unity of the Holy Catholic Church, 
 shown by the same advice being given by two such very 
 different members of it as her thoroughly Scotch nurse 
 and her thoroughly German governess. She was deter- 
 mined on looking for further evidence, and asked, " Did 
 John Knox ever say, when he was very busy, that he had 
 so much to do that day he couldn't possibly do it without 
 praying three hours?" 
 
 Nurse shook her head. She did not know very much 
 about John Knox, except that he was a great and good 
 man, who had made Scotland what it was. But she thought 
 it very probable he might have made the remark Alice 
 quoted; for, though she had never heard that he did, still 
 it was very like a thing he would say. 
 
 " Ah, well, a German said it!" Alice cried in triumph. 
 " Martin Luther said it; and if John Knox said it too, 
 then they both said it." 
 
 " Well, maybe they did," said nurse. 
 
 " And we do pray for Nelly," said Lina. " More than 
 about anything else, we've prayed for Nelly. You see, it's 
 a sort of work that looked as if it came right from God, 
 and nothing but God could possibly help us to do it. How
 
 AFTER THE VISIT. 359 
 
 could we teach Nelly, or take care of her by ourselves 1 A 
 little Thing with no nurse or governess, or father or mother, 
 or anything but a grandmother ! We couldn't possibly do 
 it, if He didn't help us." 
 
 Nothing occurred to destroy the perfect peace and amity 
 of that first visit to nurse in her new home; and though it 
 seemed unnatural and altogether wrong somehow to go 
 away and leave her there alone, the children went off again 
 in the carriage with recovered spirits. 
 
 " I wonder that we never spoke to nurse before about 
 Nelly," said Lina. " But I never knew she would under- 
 stand so well." 
 
 " Nor did I," said Alice ; " but we might have tried." 
 
 She tossed and pulled the strap and tassel of the win- 
 dow backwai-ds and forwards, watching it in silence for a 
 while ; then she said, " Do you think, now, she'll always 
 eat such jolly things, — buns, and jam, and ginger-wine, — 
 now she's alone % You see, she'd got them all in since she 
 went to Aberinnan." 
 
 " I think she must have got them for us," said Lina, softly. 
 " I don't think she cares for sweet things; and they're just 
 what we like, — raspberry-jam for me, black currant for you." 
 
 " But how could she know we would come 1 !" 
 
 " She must have thought, perhaps we would, and got 
 ready." 
 
 " But we never thought of it till to-day at breakfast," 
 said Alice, in unusual perplexity of mind. " What if we 
 hadn't come at all]" 
 
 " Then," said Lina, speaking softly again, " I suppose 
 she would have been soi'ry." 
 
 " Well, it does look as if she wanted us to come !" said 
 Alice slowly. " It does look like that."
 
 360 WASTED OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 The girls sat without speaking for a little while after 
 that, till at last Lina said, " Do you know, I think that 
 perhaps sometimes at Hopefield nurse may have expected 
 us up in her room. What do you think, LaUy?" 
 
 Alice made no reply. 
 
 " And we almost never went," said Lina. " All this 
 winter we almost never went." 
 
 "And it was a horrid shame," said Alice at last, with an 
 outburst. 
 
 " She might have given us advice about Nelly," said 
 Lina, with bitter regret for her privileges, which she had 
 valued so little until she lost them. " She knows so well 
 about children, our mother, and Aunt Amy, and you and 
 me. She might have helped us very much about Nelly." 
 
 " So she might. But, you see, we didn't know," said 
 Lina. " Perhaps it wasn't our blame, for we didn't know." 
 
 " We didn't want to know," said Alice indignantly. 
 " Don't make us out better than we are, Lina. There's no 
 use of it. We had good fun downstairs with Hugh and 
 Charley and mamma, and we didn't care whether nurse was 
 lonely or not up in her room. And whether she was the 
 nastiest, crossest old woman that ever was, we ought to 
 have cared." 
 
 Alice was troubled with no weird visions in the night, 
 after it first occurred to her that her behaviour to nurse 
 had not been quite so kind as it might have been. Her 
 repentance was quite unmingled with any poetzy or senti- 
 mentality whatever, and resolved itself simply into a strong 
 feeling that she had done wrong in the past, and a desire 
 to do better in future. It was far less easy for Alice to 
 see her faults than it was for Lina : Alice's very bravery 
 made her belief in herself strong ; but once convinced that 
 she had been mistaken, no fear of consequences or desire
 
 A NEW LIGHT. 361 
 
 to spare herself made her shirk the matter, or try to put 
 it by. 
 
 She deliberately went away to nurse's room that evening 
 — she knew she would be alone and undisturbed there — and 
 she wished to think. With her elbows on her knees, and 
 her chin in her hands, her favourite position when her mind 
 was busy, Alice remained for about an hour in profound 
 meditation. Probably she had never in all her childhood 
 spent so long a time in earnest thought ; but Alice was 
 leaving her childhood behind her. The very matter she 
 was pondering now was a fact that no child ever realizes, 
 — the effect of one's own words and actions upon another. 
 That nurse was a great power for good or evil in her life 
 and Lina's, Alice had always known; but that the children 
 themselves could have influence on nurse's happiness or 
 comfort, she had never imagined until to-day. And with 
 this new light, Alice carefully reviewed all her relations 
 with nurse. Unkind words, thoughtless tricks, careless- 
 ness and rudeness, above all neglect, were what memory 
 brought before Alice out of the times that were past, as 
 she sat on the floor in the dark, and demanded to see the 
 worst. 
 
 She saw it all, and then came the questions, — Had nui - se 
 been hurt by all that, as Alice and Lina were hurt when 
 she was rough (neglectful she had never been) to them ] 
 Was it even possible that she, loving them with a protect- 
 ing and careful love, as little things who had been dependent 
 on her, could feel as Alice and Lina would do if their 
 Nelly repaid their trouble by growing rude and indifferent 
 to her teachers'? 
 
 For a moment Alice, in her determination not to flinch 
 at anything, actually contemplated this horrible possibility 
 of Nelly's ingratitude. This darling little child, whom they
 
 362 WHAT MIGHT BE. 
 
 regarded as a charge from God and her dead mother, might 
 turn after a few years' time into a damsel who heeded not 
 the guardians of her youth. She might scorn Alice and 
 Lina's admonitions ; she might laugh at their persons ; she 
 might avoid their company. " Oh ! not that," Alice said 
 suddenly, putting out her hands as if to push something 
 away from her. " Please not that. We've been very bad 
 — we don't deserve it — but let Nelly love us always ! " 
 
 Then she got on her knees, and fell a-praying, and prayed 
 hard ; and was noways disturbed by Charley, who was 
 making the neighbourhood ring with the sound of her 
 name.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 more of Hugh's life-story. 
 
 [PRING came on apace; and with the first of the 
 warm weather Mrs. Hope's people began to 
 appear, just as she had foretold. The children 
 felt as if her words had come literally true; and Hope- 
 field was more like a hotel than anything else, when at 
 Easter time the house contained Mrs. William Ashley, and 
 Constance Ashley, and the two little Ashley boys with 
 their nurse ; as well as Katie Blackwood, and her brother, 
 whose Christian name was Ashley. But they were such 
 nice people, those Southern friends of Mrs. Hope's, that 
 for their sakes Alice left her patriotism in abeyance for a 
 while, and Lina had a tender feeling for everything English 
 all the rest of her life. 
 
 Not that Alice and Lina found companions of their own 
 age in any of the party. Miss Blackwood was a young 
 lady who had "come out" nearly two years ago; and her 
 brother was an Oxonian of some six feet high, and broad 
 in proportion. Connie Ashley, the sixteen-year-old damsel, 
 was quite grown-up, not by affectation, but simply by the 
 natural development of her manners and tastes through 
 constant association with older people, and a close friend- 
 ship with her mother. Connie classed Alice and Lina, 
 Hugh and Charley, among the " children," and put her 
 own small brothers in the same category ; but though those
 
 364 mrs. hope's visitors. 
 
 darling chubby boys were the idols of the schoolroom 
 party, they were scarcely old enough to bo playmates, 
 having only reached the mature ages of four and five. 
 Winifred Ashley, who stood midway in the family gap 
 between Connie and the boys, had been left with her 
 father in England, — a fact which the Hope girls deeply 
 deplored. 
 
 But it is doubtful whether even the possession of Win, 
 aged eleven, about whom they had so many questions to 
 ask, could have made the party at Hopefield much plea- 
 santer to Alice and Lina. Every one, with scarcely the 
 exception of Connie, made much of the little girls ; most 
 of all were they petted by motherly little Mrs. Ashley, — 
 kindest, cleverest of women, — in whose praise Alice and 
 Lina could henceforth find no terms that seemed strong 
 enough to use. All the visitors were so good-natured and 
 happy, and gifted with such a flow of interesting talk, 
 that sitting in the drawing-room was being present at a 
 delightful entertainment to the children, and even their 
 father found a seat beside Mrs. Ashley pleasant. Alice 
 and Lina felt they had been greatly mistaken in judging 
 their stepmother's friends by Miss Harvey, who happened 
 to be the first they had seen. She was certainly an un- 
 favourable specimen. The others were all doubtless worthy 
 of mamma, like these Ashleys and Blackwoods, — some 
 might perhaps have attained to the supreme excellence of 
 Aunt Bessie or Katie. Let any and all the rest of Mrs. 
 Hope's relations come — the more the better. Such had 
 now become the hospitable sentiments of Alice and Lina. 
 
 It was only sad to think that a visit is a visit after 
 all, and not a permanent settlement. The Blackwoods 
 were to go first ; and, alas ! they were not going away 
 alone. Hugh and Charley were to go southward too, to
 
 A HAPPY THOUGHT. 
 
 365 
 
 enter a school which had at last been found suitable foi 
 them, — a private one, conducted by a clergyman, who took 
 very few pupils. None of the children would give way to 
 sentiment about the parting, they were determined. It 
 was what they had long expected — what they knew must 
 come some day ; they ought only to be thankful it had 
 kept off so long. So much for Alice the sensible. And 
 while Hugh said it was quite time now to go, he had idled 
 too long already with that stupid Duncan, Charley at- 
 tempted to console himself with prospects of cricket, and 
 Lina kept repeating that it would not be long till the 
 summer holidays came. 
 
 They all rather dreaded the last night, however; and it 
 was a relief when Hugh came forward with a proposal of a 
 way to fill up the time. " We'll have a sound of revelry 
 by night, and drink deep draughts of good lemonade in the 
 old nursery — we'll have a feast to end up with. Get Aunt 
 Lottie to give you some cake and oranges, and we'll have a 
 regular spree." 
 
 There could not have been a happier thought; for the 
 preparations for the feast, and the decorations of the 
 chamber, occupied the children all day, and effectually pre- 
 vented any time being given to mourning. Charley rode 
 down to Aberinnan in the morning, and returned laden 
 with provisions. All the afternoon he and his cousins 
 worked hard together, while Hugh gave directions, and 
 affected contempt after his usual fashion ; and when the 
 work was all done, the workers went off to adorn them- 
 selves. But Hugh sat still by the window, and there Lina 
 found him when she returned again in full dress. She 
 had on a scarlet opera-cloak of her stepmother's, and sprays 
 of ivy, fastened into the band of velvet that tied back her 
 hair, hung loose and long among her locks in an untidy,
 
 366 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR A FEAST. 
 
 but not unbecoming fashion. She had a fan, too, which 
 she flapped and flirted vigorously as she stood in the middle 
 of the room, looking about her ,rith some satisfaction. 
 " I think everything looks very nice, Hugh." 
 All the bright-coloured shawls or scarfs the children 
 could lay their hands on were hung about the room, and 
 fir branches and long sprays of ivy had been put wherever 
 they would stick or lie. Above the mantelpiece, fastened 
 by four prominent pins, was an enormous piece of paper, 
 painted in red and yellow letters, with the sad word 
 " Farewell ! " and another similar though smaller strip 
 encircled the cake which stood on the middle of the table. 
 What a table that was ! Properly speaking, there were 
 two tables, joined so as to make one long narrow board, 
 and covered by a dazzling white table-cloth so large as to 
 sweep the floor at both sides. The cake was, of course, 
 the chief ornament. It had been baked and sugared for 
 this very occasion, and was Mrs. Hope's contribution to 
 the feast ; but many other fine things were gathered round 
 it. There were a plate of tofiy made by nurse in Mrs. 
 M'Nab's kitchen ; thin bread and butter, cut by Lina ; 
 blaeberry jam of Alice's making, which had jellied so 
 beautifully that it turned out in a shape; a cake of short- 
 bread Charley had ordered in Aberinnan, with the initials 
 of the whole party on it; oranges, almonds, and raisins; 
 fancy biscuits, and scones. For drinkables, the toy tea-set 
 was at one end of the table, where chocolate was to be 
 served out; and at the other, lemons and glasses, and 
 water and sugar, were all ready for Hugh to brew the 
 innocent beverage he had promised. 
 
 Hugh's eyes followed Lina's all about the room, but 
 with no reflection in them of the pleasure that shone in 
 hers. His solitary thoughts, whatever they had been, did
 
 HUGH IN A GLOOMY MOOD. 367 
 
 not seem to have agreed with him ; he looked moody and 
 dissatisfied. 
 
 " Aren't you going to dress up, Hugh 1 " 
 " Why should IV he answered. " Am not I a queer 
 enough object to satisfy any one as it is?" 
 
 He turned back again to the window, and Lina went 
 and put both her hands on his arm. " Hugh ! " 
 
 He could not harden himself against the tone of pained 
 reproach in the voice of the little girl he loved. Hugh 
 patted Lina's hand as it lay on his sleeve, though his next 
 words were not very cheering to her, — 
 
 "Never mind me, Lina; give me up. I'm an ill-tem- 
 pered wretch, that's the truth — crooked in body and 
 mind." 
 
 " Hugh, don't say such things ! I can't bear it. Never 
 do it, Hugh — never do it again ! " 
 
 As was his way when other people got earnest, he tried 
 to ton the matter off with a laugh and a pretence of not 
 caring. 
 
 " Don't get excited, old girl ! Well, I won't call myself 
 any more names, if it plagues you. Only sit down beside 
 me, and let me tell you what I've been doing." 
 
 " Yes ; go on, Hugh," said Lina, calming down and tak- 
 ing a share of his seat. 
 
 "I have been watching Blackwood — great long-legged 
 fellow ! — I wonder at how many miles an hour he came up 
 from the stables ; and after that I saw Davy Henderson 
 going home from his work. He was going quick enough 
 too, hungry for his supper, I dare say." 
 
 "Was that all? " asked Lina after a few moments' 
 silence, during which she was waiting in expectation that 
 Hugh would go on. 
 
 "That was about all I saw."
 
 368 VAIN WISHES. 
 
 " Ashley Blackwood coming in from a ride, and Davy 
 Henderson going home to his supper ! That wasn't very 
 interesting. You could see as much as that any day." 
 
 " No," repeated Hugh abstractedly ; " it wasn't very 
 interesting. I could see as much as that any day." 
 
 " Why, for the matter of that, Hugh, Charley came in 
 from a ride already to-day ; and we are all going to have 
 supper presently, aren't we 1 " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure we are," answered Hugh ; but his look 
 did not suit his words. He had slid back into sad gravity 
 again, and Lina felt that her efforts to lead him into cheer- 
 ful conversation had failed, and that, having no key to his 
 mood, she had better wait a little before she tried again. 
 Presently, however, Hugh shook himself out of his listless 
 attitude, and turned round to her. 
 
 "Next Tuesday will be my birthday — nobody remembers 
 or cares, of course ; but that's neither here nor there — I'll 
 be fifteen, and in six years I shall have Abbotsmuir, and — 
 I suppose — lots of money. "Well, I began to-night by 
 envying Ashley Blackwood, and before I was done I had 
 got the length of envying Davy Henderson. Think of it, 
 Lina ! I was actually wishing myself an ignorant lout like 
 that — only to be strong and have a body like other people. 
 What will Abbotsmuir or anything else ever be to me 1 ? 
 Much better I should die off, and let Charley have it all, 
 who would be able to enjoy it." 
 
 Lina was pained and horrified ; but Hugh's speech was 
 long enough for her to collect her wits, and be able to 
 follow him before he was done. She did not exclaim or 
 try to stop him this time. Without being able to reason 
 about the comforts of expression and sympathy, she felt 
 that it would be better Hugh should say out his say, rather 
 than store it up in bitter thoughts in his own mind. She
 
 A PICTURE OF THE FUTURE. 369 
 
 would not tell hiin how shocked and sorry she was ; she 
 answered him as lightly as she could,— 
 
 "Hugh, you will enjoy Abbotsmuir — such a pretty 
 place, all among the hills ! " 
 
 "Good for people who can spend whole days murder- 
 ing partridges, perhaps. What shall I do in a lonely out-of- 
 the-way hole all by myself] " 
 
 "But you won't be all by yourself: you'll have Charley 
 with you ; and we'll come." 
 
 " Charley will be at the other end of the world, very 
 likely, before long ; no fear of him staying at home to keep 
 company with a useless brother, — and I'd be a miserable 
 creature to wish it. And as for you, Lina, you'll never 
 come." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, but I will." 
 
 "No, you won't. I shall never ask you; and if not you, 
 then certainly no one else." 
 
 " But we won't mind not being asked, we'll come with- 
 out an invitation. Lally and I will both come ever so 
 often, and stay ever so long. What fun we shall have 
 Then you'll have books, Hugh; if you have plenty of 
 money, you can buy ever so many books. You can fill up 
 all the empty rooms with them — think how nice ! Fancy 
 your having more books than papa, Hugh — you might 
 have, I suppose, if you had nobody to buy things for but 
 yourself. You'll be very like papa in some things when 
 you grow up, Hugh, won't you? Only not in everything." 
 
 "Better finish it up as Alice does: I'm like your father 
 — with this difference, that I'm nasty and he's nice; or 
 rather, he's inoffensive and I'm not." 
 
 " Oh ! Lally didn't mean that." 
 
 " Indeed she did ; and I'm not sure but she spoke the 
 truth," said Hugh, beginning to smile a little. "Alice 
 (664) 24
 
 37U hugh's confession. 
 
 can give people much better wiggings than you can, South 
 Cai'olina. That girl will make a female preacher some day, 
 I do believe. She does go at it with a will on Sunday 
 afternoons ; you need to get the steam up before you do 
 it well, but she's always ready, and always sure of her 
 ground. The amount of theology that poor baby gets 
 between you — " 
 
 " Hugh," cried Lina, flushing scarlet, " you've been 
 listening ! I was always afraid you were — I knew you 
 would do this some time. Oh, what made you? It was 
 very, very unkind." 
 
 " Calm yourself, my dear infant, and hear reason. Of 
 course I listened to your Nelly's lessons when what I was 
 reading didn't happen to be more interesting. I always 
 heard what you said, and most of what Alice did, — why 
 should you grudge it to me 1 Don't you think, perhaps I 
 might get as much good out of it all as that little atom 
 you spend so much time on 1 " 
 
 It was impossible, when this boy talked, to judge how 
 much was earnest, how much sneering, and how much 
 pure fun ; at least, so Lina found it. She was afraid to 
 look at Hugh, lest she should read in his face only con- 
 tempt and amusement ; but he kept on patting her hand 
 affectionately, and his voice had lost much of its bitter tone. 
 "Alice wouldn't grudge it to me, I know; she would 
 give me a sermon all to myself if she were here, or if I 
 ever said such things to her as I've been saying to you. 
 There's no fear I ever shall, however; so I'll need to preach 
 my own sermon, as there's nobody else to do it. There ! 
 — I'm not going to be ill-tempered any more just now ! 
 There's work for every one in the world — isn't that one of 
 vour pet theories 1 — then perhaps even a snarling, lame 
 dwarf may find something to do — "
 
 A HARD LESSON. 371 
 
 " Don't ! " said Lina, putting her hand over his mouth ; 
 " you promised you wouldn't call yourself names." 
 
 " Well, I won't. Is this better, then 1 Perhaps it 
 wasn't just an evil chance made me the thing I am, but 
 some one who meant something by it — something good, I 
 mean. Perhaps God's asking me to ' suffer this affliction ' 
 — isn't that the expression 1 — suffer this affliction for a 
 little while : after all, it's only a little while we have to live 
 at the longest — and then, don't you teach that in the next 
 world everything can be made up 1 Isn't every one strong 
 and beautiful in heaven 1 Will they see the good then of 
 all the troubles that came upon them in this world 1 Until 
 then, I suppose they must be patient, if they can. ' They 
 also serve who only stand and wait.' That last remark 
 isn't mine, though, but Milton's; though, perhaps, it's as 
 good a thing as any I've said." 
 
 Lina tried to laugh a litile at this, though she had been 
 sobbing an instant before, and was working too hard at 
 keeping back her tears to make any attempt to speak. 
 
 " Well," said Hugh, after an instant, " isn't that right 1 
 Haven't I profited by my instructions 1 Isn't that the sort 
 of thing Alice would have said, and you ought to have said, 
 to me, if you had been anything like a worthy school- 
 mistress 1 " 
 
 " Yes; that's it, — only ever so much better than we could 
 have said it." 
 
 " But isn't it a good thing if I've learned so well that 
 I outshine my teachers ? It's a hard lesson, though, old 
 woman. I'll have to repeat it many and many a time, I 
 suspect, before I know it rightly, if I ever get to that. 
 There's no use denying it, — flesh and blood will never 
 learn to bear what I've to bear. The only chance of 
 goodness or happiness for a creature like me lies in Chris-
 
 372 " where's charley 1 " 
 
 tianity. Bearing the cross because another cross was borne 
 by God for you — the secret lies there, I'm beginning to 
 believe. — What a fool I am to talk like this to a child like 
 you ! To-night of all nights, too, when we meant to have 
 fun. It does not do to get into a fit of clumps, and have to 
 drag oneself out by long sermons. But it's an improvement 
 when I'm able to drag myself out by any manner of means, 
 isn't it? Who knows but some day I may get on so far as 
 to give up snarling, and turn into a nice fellow after all ? " 
 
 " You are always nice to me, Hugh." 
 
 " I wish I were," he said, with actual tenderness. "You 
 are such a good little cousin to me ! You've spoiled me, let- 
 ting me pour out all my ill-humours to you, and drag you 
 through all my uninteresting books. When I go away 
 again, I shall know what it is to miss some one. What 
 shall I do without my girl ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid it's selfish to be glad you say that, Hugh, 
 but I have so wanted to be a comfort to you; and I was 
 always afraid I wasn't." 
 
 " Quiet your fears, and be as selfish as you like in being 
 glad. I shall miss you sadly, there is no doubt. — Ah, 
 Alice, here you are at last ! Where's Charley ? " 
 
 " How should I know where Charley is ? " said Alice, 
 coming in with the two small Ashleys. " Here are the 
 little fat boys; only, Aunt Bessie says they mustn't be 
 allowed to eat too much." 
 
 Alice was dressed according to her ideas of an Eastern 
 woman, — in a calico skirt and a long white cotton veil, not 
 drawn over her face, however, but supported above her 
 forehead by a horn, as seen in the pictures of marriage 
 processions in Palestine. She was followed almost im- 
 mediately by a sturdy, long-legged girl in out-of-door 
 dress — a figure that made the two little boys stare in
 
 TALKING NONSENSE. -373 
 
 amazement for a moment, and Eddie whisper to Lina that 
 the lady had a bonnet very like his nnrsie's. 
 
 " And a dress very like one of Lina's," said Hugh, who 
 overheard the remark. " And a muff very like your sister 
 Connie's. Ho! Charley, it's well you're going away to- 
 morrow, out of the reach of the wrath of the females you've 
 outraged ! Where did you get the jacket ] " 
 
 " Stop your rude remarks on a lady's dress, and be glad 
 when a real sealskin jacket comes to supper with you," 
 said the last arrival, throwing up her veil. "Whereupon 
 the little boys clapped their hands, and shouted in delight, 
 " It's Charley ! it's Charley ! " 
 
 " Come to supper, friends," said Charley, seating himself 
 at the table, and surveying it attentively. " How much 
 have you eaten already, Jemima, greedy old cat 1 " 
 
 " Nothing," said Alice indignantly. " I've just come in. 
 Ask Hugh and Lina what they were doing. They've been 
 here ever so long." 
 
 " Talking — talking nonsense," said Hugh, rather hastily. 
 " Come along, then. I'm as hungry as a hawk." His 
 mind turned back eagerly to play with a rebound from the 
 strain of seriousness it had been in but a little ago. And, 
 in truth, though every word he had said to his little cousin 
 was true, he was dissatisfied with himself for saying some 
 things at all, and for the way in which he had said others. 
 
 He had made up his mind of late that it would be only 
 light and fair to tell Lina that he had been thinking a 
 great deal about Christianity ; he might even have told her 
 that he felt it answered to a need of human nature. But 
 to confess that it met a special need of his nature, had been 
 very far from his intention. He was ashamed that he 
 had been surprised into the expression of one of those fits 
 of lonely disgust with himself, which he would fain have
 
 37 I HAPPY OR SAD? 
 
 concealed from every one. He tried hard to make others 
 think — he tried harder to make himself think — that he 
 had no special need at all ; that his was a wonderfully self- 
 sustained character; and that his bodily disadvantages 
 were amply made up for by his mental gifts, — which, it 
 must be said, the young man did not undervalue. This 
 was what he had said to Lina before. 
 
 But what would she think of him now, when he had 
 acknowledged that he could sink so low as to envy the 
 gardener's boy; that he had condescended to learn from her 
 teaching and Alice's; that he would miss her even in the 
 midst of all his studies at school 1 He was afraid he had 
 for ever forfeited his high place in her estimation ; and, 
 nevertheless, he could scarcely be altogether sorry he had 
 spoken. He was going away to-morrow, too, so perhaps 
 it did not matter much. At any rate, it was done now, 
 and could not be helped, whatever the consequences were. 
 Better try to forget altogether the thoughts that had been 
 thought, the words that had been said, and the parting that 
 was coming, in riotous play. 
 
 And Lina — was she happy or sad 1 She scarcely knew ; 
 her feelings were so mixed. But certainly Hugh was no 
 less her hero, her revered tutor, her accomplished cousin, 
 because he had confessed that he wanted both divine and 
 human help in this melancholy life of his. Rather she felt 
 she reverenced him more than ever, now she knew he rever 
 enced God : she loved him moi-e dearly since he had told 
 her that he loved her. She would remember this evening 
 all her life. The thought of it would be a grief, and yet 
 a comfort, when Hugh himself was gone. But she too felt 
 she could bear no more at present. Her heart was too 
 full, and the boisterous romp that was coming would be a 
 relief that she was almost shocked with herself for wishing.
 
 A DECIDED SUCCESS. 37-J 
 
 The party gathered round the table, and the revels began. 
 The Oriental female placed herself at one end, and pro- 
 ceeded to serve out the chocolate ; while the little moon- 
 faced boys stood one at each side of her, beaming joyously 
 on the goodies before them. Hugh busied himself squeez- 
 ing lemons, and Lina and Charley exchanged uncomplimen- 
 tary remarks on each other's personal appearance from 
 opposite sides of the table. 
 
 What a success that feast turned out to be ! How good- 
 humoured everybody was, and how much they ate ! It is 
 true that though Alice's mixture of minced chocolate cakes 
 and cold milk was pronounced by all to be excellent, no- 
 body seemed inclined to try a second cup; but then Alice 
 was not likely to be vexed by that, when it took so much 
 trouble to make. After she had helped everybody once 
 round, it was quite time for her to turn her attention to 
 her own plate, for the eatables were disappearing fast. 
 Hugh would not dispense his lemonade till the end; and 
 wonderful havoc had been made on the table before he 
 announced that the time had come. 
 
 " Has everybody clone now 1 Willie, would you like 
 some more 1 ?" 
 
 " Yes, please," was the prompt reply of the shortest, 
 plumpest, rosiest Ashley. 
 
 " What will you have?" 
 
 " S'ortbread, please." 
 
 " He knows what's good," said Charley, who kept guard 
 over the plate where there still remained a morsel of his 
 own peculiar contribution to the feast. 
 
 " Charley wanted to have 'Farewell' put on that," said 
 Hugh. " Then he wanted to have 'Jemima'; but he was 
 afraid Alice would claim it all then — " 
 
 " So I will. Pass it here, Charley ; Willie's had enough
 
 376 AT THE FEAST. 
 
 I promised Aunt Bessie he shouldn't make himself ill. 
 Oh no, Hugh, he isn't at all ill-used; he can't be hungry 
 now, and he's not to get anything else but a bit of dry 
 bread." 
 
 There was no use arguing with the Spartan Alice, espe- 
 cially as there was truth on her side; nor did Willie look 
 a whit cast clown by his disappointment of the shortbread. 
 Charley ate it himself, however, in case Alice's refusal of it 
 to Willie had been prompted by any selfish motives. 
 
 " Have a bit of bread, little fat boy 1 ?" 
 
 " Yes, please." 
 
 Charley cut him a large thick slice, which was accepted 
 with an eager clutch of a dimpled hand, and a smiling 
 " Thank you" from rosy lips. There was a general shout 
 of laughter as Willie began to eat with as much apparent 
 relish as if it had been the beginning of his meal. 
 
 " Connie says he was never known to say 'No' to any- 
 thing he was offered to eat," observed Lina. 
 
 " Never mind, Willie," said Hugh, who was certainly 
 wonderfully amiable. " It's a shame of them to laugh at 
 you. Eat away; you shall have some lemonade presently. 
 — Everybody takes sugar, I suppose, and plenty 1 ?" 
 
 Everybody did ; and the tumblers were handed round, 
 and received by none more eagerly than Willie. 
 
 " Now, then, Charley," said Hugh, leaning back in his 
 chair with his own brimming glass in his hand, and look- 
 ing round at the others sipping theirs contentedly, " pro- 
 pose a toast, and make a speech, — ' Hopefield ! ' " 
 
 Up rose Charley, nothing loath, while the others stamped 
 and shouted, and beat the table in the most encouraging 
 manner. 
 
 " ' Hopefield ! ' " said Charley, waving his lemonade on 
 high. " Three cheers for Hopefield ! It's a very decent
 
 AN ADDITION TO THE PARTY. 377 
 
 place; and I shouldn't be sorry if the holidays began to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " you stupid fellow ! " cried Hugh. " Is that all the 
 speech you can make 1 ? Listen to the sort of thing you 
 ought to say : — ' Hopefield ! ' May it ever flourish ! May its 
 fir-woods grow ever green ! May its daughters always have 
 golden hair ! May its mistress be evermore good-natured ! 
 May—" 
 
 Amid the enthusiastic applause which drowned Hugh's 
 words, voices were heard from behind ; and the children, 
 looking round, saw Mrs. Hope, and Miss Blackwood, and 
 Constance Ashley, all standing at the door. 
 
 "Come in, mamma ! — come in, Katie ! — come in, Connie !" 
 called Alice and Lina; but Hugh did not join in their 
 hospitable invitation. To tell the truth, he was ashamed 
 of being caught playing so heartily with his juniors, whom 
 he thought it only consistent with his dignity to ignore 
 when others were by. And he felt quite inclined to shake 
 Connie when she came up to the table, and, addressing him 
 in particular, said, — 
 
 " You children seem to be having capital fun here. 
 Mother sent me to fetch the little boys; and the noise 
 brought my cousins too." 
 
 Connie was on perfectly equal terms with her cousin 
 Lottie, and her cousin Katie was the youngest friend she 
 had. She was really a provoking girl in many ways. 
 
 " It seems to me, Lina," said Mrs. Hope, as they stood 
 laughing at the queer figures of the children, " that I've 
 seen that cloak before; — and Katie's jacket! That is really 
 too bad of you, Charley." 
 
 "It can't possibly spoil," said the owner of the jacket, 
 who was one of the pleasantest-tempered girls possible. 
 
 "But the impudence of rifling your wardrobe!" said
 
 378 MISS CHARLOTTE MACKENZIE. 
 
 Mrs. Hope, trying hard to look severely into Charley's 
 dancing eyes. " And Connie's muff and scarf ! And my 
 new veil ! " 
 
 "All for Miss Charlotte Mackenzie!" said the culprit, 
 not in the least ashamed or remorseful. " Don't grudge 
 Katie's things the honour, Aunt Lottie. She's going away 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " You pickle ! We shall get rid of you to-morrow, or I 
 should have to take some means of bringing you into order. — 
 Poor little Willie ! do they give you nothing but dry bread?" 
 
 " mamma, indeed he's had ever so much, though he 
 looks so hungry," said Alice earnestly. " Have some 
 lemonade. I'm sorry I haven't a glass for you; but take 
 some of mine. There has nobody been drinking out of it 
 but Eddie and me." 
 
 Mrs. Hope took the glass, and stood with it by Alice's 
 shoulder, looking smiling down the table. Her step- 
 daughters saw with pride that she looked much the best of 
 the three cousins. Dear as Katie Blackwood was, she was 
 neither pretty nor stylish, and looked nothing but a plea- 
 sant, unaffected English girl, in her half-mourning dress; 
 and Connie was still attired, school-girl fashion, in a white 
 musHn, not quite long, which had been washed a good 
 many times. But mamma looked like a lady indeed, with 
 her black net and silk, and her silver ornaments, and her 
 charming way of moving and smiling. 
 
 Even Hugh was not indifferent to her appearance, and 
 was all the more inclined to yield to the effect produced by 
 her unexpected speech ; for Mrs. Hope did not merely taste 
 the lemonade, and lay it down again with some common- 
 place remark about it being nice, but held it in her hand, 
 and looked all round with laughing eyes till she came to 
 Hugh. And then she gave the second toast of the evening —
 
 RETURNING THANKS. 379 
 
 ■x 8 
 
 Hugh Mackenzie, Esq. of Abbotsmuir ; ' and may he 
 soon come back to Hopefield!" 
 
 This was received with rapturous applause, and Alice 
 flung her arms round Hugh's neck and kissed him. Where- 
 upon, "Hallo!" said Charley; "don't drink my health, 
 anybody. Don't, Aunt Lottie — don't ! " 
 
 When nobody had breath to shout any more, Hugh rose 
 to reply. He was into the spirit of the thing again; for if 
 Aunt Lottie joined in the fun, it was surely not childish 
 for him to do so. Besides, he was undoubtedly pleased by 
 the compliment paid him. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, — Unaccustomed as I am to 
 public speaking" — (here the cheering again became up- 
 roarious, and Alice's voice was distinguished exclaiming, 
 " Oh, what a — ") — " unaccustomed as I am to public speak- 
 ing, I really find it difficult to express my feelings of 
 gratitude for the great honour you have done me in the — 
 a — very hearty way in which you have — drunk my health. 
 In answer to the hospitable wish expressed by my fear 
 hostess, I can only say, it certainly shall not be my fault if 
 I do not soon return to Hopefield." 
 
 Frantic applause followed, — Alice rattling glasses and 
 spoons, Charley beating the fireirons together, and all the 
 children shouting lustily, till the elders of the party put 
 their hands to their heads, and made imploring signs for 
 mercy. When throats were so hoarse and hands so tired 
 that they could scream and clap no longei', Hugh's voice 
 again became audible. "Allow me now to propose one 
 other toast, the last of the evening." 
 
 Every one put an additional lump of sugar and a good 
 deal more water into their tumblers. The lemons were all 
 squeezed out by this time. 
 
 "The young lady whose name 1 am about to mention,"
 
 380 A DECIDED HIT. 
 
 said Hugh, after having replenished his own glass, " is one 
 well known to us all; one for whom we all cherish respect 
 and affection, not only on account of her personal attrac- 
 tions, though they are considerable, but because of her rare 
 intellectual gifts and sterling moral worth. I know you 
 will all drink gladly with me when I mention the name of 
 —Nelly!" 
 
 Hugh fancied he had exactly hit the point, contriving to 
 please his little cousins by proposing the health of their 
 pet, and yet couching his praises in such language as would 
 persuade the older people that the whole thing was a mere 
 jest and mockery on his part. But it is very likely that 
 none of the ladies wf>re particularly interested in Hugh's 
 sentiments about the matter, and were inclined to leave the 
 analysis of his feelings to such a fervent admii'er as Lina. 
 Everybody, even Lina herself, was more occupied with 
 Nelly than Hugh, as the glasses were drained in solemn 
 silence after the dear name had been shouted round. 
 Hugh's last toast had been a decided hit. Even Mrs. 
 Hope drank several mouthfuls of weak lemonade, in Nelly's 
 honour, without a single wry face. Katie Blackwood and 
 Connie Ashley sipped out of Lina's glass. Then Charley 
 rose and proposed three cheers, and again three times three, 
 for Nelly; and in the midst of the din that followed, the 
 ladies fled away to quieter regions. 
 
 Charley was quite ready for more toasts and speeches 
 after that. He would have proposed healths all round; 
 but Hugh, who was fully aware that a joke gets tiresome 
 when carried too far, declared that there was to be no 
 more of it. Songs they might have, however; so the small 
 Willie, who had been allowed an hour's reprieve from bed, 
 sang of the experiences of his own sad past, when " once he 
 loved a maiden fair, but she did deceive him." Then Lina
 
 THE END OF A PLEASANT EVENING. 381 
 
 sang " The Loreley." Alice gave " Scots wha hae " with 
 much spirit, though in the midst Charley struck up, " The 
 animals went in one by one," and rather marred the effect. 
 Hugh interfered to quell the Babel that followed, and 
 said, now was the time for " Auld lang syne." But nobody 
 knew the words very well, so that was not such a great 
 success as it ought to have been. Then, as Hugh could 
 not sing, he recited Browning's poem about the " Rats," 
 and then read " The Bells," and " The Raven," and " Anna- 
 bel Lee;" finally, after the small boys had gone to bed, he 
 gathered the others about the fire, while he told the most 
 wonderful story that had ever proceeded from his lips, — 
 about his own supposed adventures in an old ruined castle 
 to which he came one night after a hard day's riding — 
 (poor Hugh !) — having lost his way, and how there he en- 
 countered a gang of robbers, and escaped from them by 
 his own preternatural courage and coolness; crawling at 
 last for two miles along an underground passage, and 
 emerging at early dawn out of an ancient dry well in the 
 garden of his dear old college-friend whom he was going to 
 visit. 
 
 When the time for saying good-night came, Charley 
 kissed Lina, and then planting himself before Alice, with 
 his hands in his pockets, said, " Jemima, if you don't put 
 your arms round my neck, I'll allow you to give me one 
 kiss. I'm quite willing." 
 
 " I'm not," said Alice, turning away in supreme disgust. 
 Indeed, she felt decidedly ashamed of her sudden demon- 
 stration of affection to Hugh, for it was one of her maxims 
 that kissing was almost as objectionable as crying. 
 
 That was not good-bye, however; they were to meet 
 again to-morrow morning, though they were half con- 
 scious that they would try to cheat themselves then, by
 
 382 lina's promise. 
 
 saying the farewells had been really taken the evening 
 before. 
 
 What a cheerless thing was that early breakfast for the 
 travellers, at which Katie sat in hat and jacket, breaking 
 up her toast nervously, and worrying because Ashley was 
 late in coming down ; and Hugh looked impassive and 
 sullen, and would meet nobody's eyes; and Charley was the 
 only one who could occupy himself in making a good meai ; 
 while Mrs. Hope cut sandwiches at the sideboard, and 
 Alice and Lina hung about the table, silently eying the 
 friends they were to lose so soon. It was a real relief to 
 all when the carriage came ; and it seemed a perfect bless- 
 ing that there was some trouble about the luggage at the 
 end, so that the last words were about wraps and um- 
 brellas. Only before that, when Mrs. Hope was busy 
 with Ashley and Katie, Hugh had said, as he rose from 
 the table, " I say, old woman, you are to write, you 
 know ! " 
 
 " Oh yes ; but there will be ever so many mistakes." 
 
 " Very well ; I'll copy them out, and send them back to 
 you to correct. — And you, Alice?" 
 
 " Will I write, do you mean 1 Not I. Couldn't, how- 
 ever much I wanted to." 
 
 " Time you learned, then. — Lina, when shall I hear from 
 you I " 
 
 " I don't know when you'll get the letter, Hugh, but I'll 
 write this very afternoon." 
 
 She kept her promise. All afternoon, while the train 
 was whizzing southward with Hugh and Charley, the little 
 girl laboured away with care-burdened brow and inky 
 fingers over her desk in the schoolroom. And this was 
 the account of Alice and Lina's first day without their 
 cousins, as given by themselves : —
 
 A LETTER FOR HUGH. 383 
 
 " My Own Dear Cousin Hugh This is a rainy after- 
 noon so I shall have it all for my letter untill lesson-time 
 and Alice is siting beside me and sends her love which I 
 had better put in at first in case I forget it afterwards and 
 I have got the dictionary to look up the big words and 
 the first I have had to look up was dictionary itself I 
 wont get on very fast but if my letter is good that is 
 the great thing you used to say And I do wish you were 
 here to say it again for we do miss you and Charley very 
 much and Alice bids me say to Charley that she misses 
 him more than she expected realy a good deal and I am 
 sure she misses you a great deal too though she doesn't 
 say it for this was a very long forenoon We thought 
 lessons would never be done and we thought dinner would 
 never come and though there was a roily -polly with bramble- 
 jam it was not much comfort for we thought there was no 
 Charley to enjoy it and ask for 3 helpings We would 
 willingly have given up our own shairs to Charley if we 
 had only had him back again a great deal more than that 
 we would willingly have given him and you Now I have 
 some news to tell you which mamma told us this very 
 afternoon and that is that when the weather is warm 
 enough we are to go to the sea-side Fraulein and Lally 
 and I what fun it will be Only what will Nelly do my 
 dear Hugh because of Nelly I feel that I must study very 
 hard at englisli but it will be all by myself now and do 
 you think there is much chance of getting on much by 
 myself and will you teach me again in the hollydays Hugh 
 for Nelly will never need to learn french or german or to 
 play the piano but she must Lean) english and oh it would 
 be so nice Hugh if I could teach her to write letters like 
 mama ami Aunt Bessie and Katie and Connie without 
 needing to look in a dictionary to spell the words Alice
 
 384 A LETTER FOR HUGH. 
 
 says what need But you know Hugh there is a wright 
 and a wrong way of spelling words My hand is very tired 
 and I feel as if you had been gone a long time and yet 
 that if I shut my eyes and wished you back again very 
 hard I should open them and find you sitting on the sopha 
 But you are really gone and good-bye Hugh good-bye 
 Charley from Lina And good-bye from Alice to you both 
 Beleive me my dear Hugh 
 
 Your loving cousin 
 
 Lina South Carolina Your 
 old woman whatever name you like but always loving."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ANOTHER TUTOR TAKES HUGH'S PLACE. 
 
 HEN Lina had finished her letter, she carried it 
 upstairs to the drawing-room, where four o'clock 
 tea was just then going on ; and getting close to 
 her stepmother, said in a low voice, " This is for Hugh, but 
 I have no envelopes, and I don't know how to address it." 
 
 " Leave it here then, dear, and I'll look after it," said 
 Mrs. Hope, who was busy filling the cups. 
 
 Lina laid her letter on the table, and turned to go to the 
 schoolroom and her practising ; not altogether with alacrity, 
 however, for the scene in the drawing-room looked much 
 more cheerful than the one downstairs. 
 
 In spite of the grayness of the day, here it was bright 
 and cosy, with a most inspiriting fire, and quite near it the 
 round table with its pretty china, Mrs. Hope presiding over 
 it — enoiigh in herself, Lina thought, to make any room look 
 pleasant. 
 
 On a low arm-chair sat Mrs. Ashley talking to Mr. Hope 
 with great animation ; and Connie lounged in a corner of 
 the sofa, with the two little boys and their picture-books 
 pressing against her, as she explained the interesting story 
 of the House that Jack Built. To be sure, to make every- 
 thing quite right, the long figure of Ashley Blackwood 
 should have been planted on the hearthrug, and Katie and 
 her embroidery should have occupied one of the basket 
 
 (6641 26
 
 386 A VERY NICE SENTIMENT. 
 
 chairs. Charley, too, was sadly missed ; for he had a way 
 of appearing in the drawing-room about this hour — to hand 
 the tea, like a good boy, and then make off, when no one 
 was noticing, with lumps of sugar and cake. But, in spite 
 of these blanks, the drawing-room looked well-peopled still, 
 compared to the schoolroom, where nearly half the inhabit- 
 ants had been swept away at a single blow. 
 
 Mrs. Hope chanced to look up before Lina had got out 
 of the door, and noticing her slow motions and disconsolate 
 appearance, asked what she was going to be about. 
 
 " I'm going to practise." 
 
 " Don't tire yourself, dear. I think you look rather 
 done up. No wonder, for you were up so early. Suppose 
 you take a book, and go and lie down for a little." 
 
 " I would rather practise, thank you. I think the time 
 goes on quicker when you're busy." 
 
 " That's a very nice sentiment, but I'm not going to have 
 you make yourself ill again. Were you doing lessons with 
 Fraulein this forenoon 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; I wanted to. The forenoon was so long with- 
 out—" 
 
 Here Lina found her feelings rather much for her, and 
 was obliged to break off abruptly and make a hurried 
 retreat. 
 
 When everybody had been provided with tea, Mrs. 
 Hope's eye fell on the folded paper, and taking it care- 
 lessly in her left hand, she began glancing over it. It 
 interested her, apparently, more than she expected, for in a 
 moment she laid down her cup, opened out the letter en- 
 tirely, and read the outpourings of poor Lina's heart to her 
 cousin with an ever-increasing smile. Finally she rose, 
 and coming behind her husband, leant over his shoulder, 
 and slipped the letter into his hand.
 
 CONCERNING LINA's LETTER. 387 
 
 " What is this, Lottie 1 " 
 
 " A letter fi'om our daughter to her cousin." 
 
 " Lina to Hugh 1 " asked Connie, looking out from be- 
 tween the boys' rosy faces. " They are such a rare couple, 
 these two. I was told, you know, that Lina was having 
 holidays on account of her health ; and Alice seemed to 
 think she had a precious easy time of it. Well, one day 
 I chanced to stumble by mistake into a great bare room 
 where the boys had their lessons in the afternoon, I think ; 
 but here were Hugh and Lina, all alone, working away at 
 English dictation ! And this was their regular occupation of 
 a morning, I found out from Charley. But the two seemed 
 anything but pleased at the interruption. Hugh looked as 
 cross as a bear (I don't like that boy) ; and poor dear Lina 
 turned white and red, and looked about ready to cry." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Hope ; " Hugh must have been acting 
 tutor to Lina ever since Christmas. And she must have 
 worked hard, and really improved, poor child ! for that 
 letter, curious production as it is — you'll see it presently — 
 it's well worth reading, Connie, but it's certainly very 
 different from anything she could have written three months 
 ago." 
 
 " Ah, mother ! that will be a comfort to you," said Con- 
 stance. " Alice and Lina are very behindhand with their 
 English. Mother is always apologizing for her teaching 
 of Win and me, and morbidly afraid we should find our- 
 selves behind other girls, and I know it was a grief to her 
 to find these children so glib with their German. Confess 
 now, mother." 
 
 " I do the best I can for you children," said Mrs. Ashley. 
 "I have been teaching six hours a day all winter, Lottie; 
 but I am afraid, when Con goes to school, she may find 
 other girls much before her."
 
 388 A GREAT RESPONSIBILITY. 
 
 "And I don't know that that mayn't be a very good 
 thing for her," said Mrs. Hope, with a look and nod at 
 Constance. " But I don't think there is any chance, Aunt 
 Bessie. She could not have had better teaching than she 
 has had. Fancy your Win writing a blotted, scratchy, 
 ill-spelt letter like that of poor Lina's ! And Win must be 
 younger." 
 
 " Well, I suppose it is not Lina's fault if she knows no 
 better," said Mrs. Ashley bluntly. "She seems to have 
 been doing all she could for herself, and deserves a helping 
 hand. Don't you think it your place to look after the 
 children's education, Lottie 1 " 
 
 " O Aunt Bessie ! my responsibilities as a parent ai-e 
 overwhelming ! " said Mrs. Hope, putting up her two hands 
 with such an expression of mock despair that Connie went 
 off into fits of laughter; and even Mrs. Ashley smiled a 
 little, though she was not without something of the feeling 
 Lina had once expressed, when she said she "wished 
 mamma would not always laugh at everything." 
 
 "It is true, Lottie, you have a great x-esponsibility with 
 these children." 
 
 " But, you dear old Aunt Bessie, what would you have 
 me do 1 Shall I dismiss Fraulein, who is one of the most 
 affectionate, conscientious souls that ever lived, with un- 
 exceptionable manners and morals, besides being a good 
 musician, and a very well-informed woman ; and am I to 
 get some flashy, dressy Englishwoman 1 ? — or even suppose 
 she's nice, still it will be introducing a stranger into the 
 house to make us all uncomfortable. Or would you have 
 me do as Maggie Harvey proposed, — send the children off 
 to Miss Bury's in London, and so get rid of them almost 
 entirely for the next six years ? " 
 
 " No ; they are far too young to send to school, and Lina 

 
 IN A DILEMMA. 389 
 
 is not strong. I don't think you should part with Frau- 
 lein either, if you can possibly help it ; but you certainly 
 make a great mistake if you allow these children to grow 
 up in ignorance of their own language." 
 
 " I know — I know it is all true ! " said Mrs. Hope, 
 turning back to the table. " Let me give you another cup 
 of tea. Don't look so terribly shocked at my flippancy, 
 auntie dear. I don't think all the grand things you do 
 about education, but I do feel it's a shame if a girl can't 
 write a well-expressed, well-spelt English letter; and I must 
 arrange some plan for the children. I thought once we 
 might have had Mr. Duncan still come and teach Alice 
 and Lina after the boys had gone ; but he does speak and 
 pronounce so horribly, I am beginning to be very doubtful 
 if that would do." 
 
 " "Why don't you teach them yourself, Lottie 1 " 
 
 " Oh, pray don't suggest such a thing ! It is altogether 
 too disagreeable to think of." 
 
 " I think you would be very much the better of some 
 useful occupation for a couple of hours every day — or even 
 one hour a day would do a great deal for the children. T 
 think you would find it a pleasure. I am so fond of teach- 
 ing ! If I were staying here any time, I would take your 
 Alice and Lina myself ! " 
 
 " I have no doubt you would, and enjoy it, and teach 
 them splendidly, you dear Aunt Bessie ! But I have no turn 
 that way. — Connie, some more tea? Eddie, bring Connie's 
 cup, and get a biscuit for yourself. Mamma won't allow 
 you to eat it just now? Then you shall have some up- 
 stairs for the nursery tea. Will you carry the plate for 
 yourself?" 
 
 " Lottie has escaped you, mother," said Connie. " She 
 doesn't mean to be lectured any more. Try Mr. Hope."
 
 390 WHO IS TO BLAME? 
 
 Mr. Hope had been meanwhile carefully reading and 
 examining Lina's letter; and now, when Mrs. Ashley 
 asked, "May I see it?" he handed it to her with a very 
 grave face. 
 
 " I don't know much about children, but it strikes me a 
 girl of Lina's age should write a better letter than that; 
 and she seems to think so herself." 
 
 " Oh yes, Edward, it's a great shame, we've all agreed, 
 while you were pondering over it," said Mrs. Hope, rising 
 almost impatiently, and pulling about her work-basket. 
 " And Alice's writing and spelling are far worse than 
 Lina's. But, remember, the responsibility is yours. It 
 was you that got them a German governess years ago, 
 before you knew thei'e was such a person as me in the 
 world." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Hope. " It is nobody's blame but 
 mine, my darling. But I was anxious the children should 
 know German well ; and then the German system of teach- 
 ing is so good." 
 
 " But not of teaching English, surely," said Mrs. Ashley. 
 " Fraulein could not even speak it when she came here. 
 Did you expect your poor children to learn English by 
 instinct?" 
 
 Mr. Hope walked up and down the room with a troubled 
 face for a few moments, while Mrs. Ashley was busy with 
 Lina's letter. At last he stopped before his wife, who was 
 sewing away now, and humming a song to herself. 
 
 " I am afraid I have been very foolishly neglectful of 
 these children." 
 
 Whereupon she looked up at him with saucy eyes, 
 though she answered in a cool, demure voice, — " Well, 
 I'm afraid you have." 
 
 " What shall I do now, do you think ?" 

 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL. 391 
 
 " Pick up my scissors now, and then ring the bell, 
 please." 
 
 As he departed to the library after performing these 
 services, Connie Ashley, ever ready to speak, expressed 
 the question which had also arisen in the mind of her 
 mother, who was one of the most helpful and devoted of 
 wives, — 
 
 " Aren't you afraid of offending your husband, Lottie 1 ?" 
 
 " No," she said, her face all rippling with laughter. 
 " He likes to be snubbed and ordered about. I never was 
 the least afraid of offending him, for I don't believe I could 
 do it if I tried. And the children ai-e almost as good- 
 natured to me. Ah, I mustn't forget Lina's letter; give it 
 me, please, and I'll address it at once to Hugh." 
 
 The next morning, just after breakfast, as the children 
 were on their way to the schoolroom, they were startled 
 by a call from their father: " I want you to come to the 
 library with me for a little." 
 
 " But it's lesson-time. We're going to Fraulein," said 
 Alice, for once glad of the fact that it was the hour for 
 study. She felt really alarmed when she found even this 
 would not avail to save her from an interview with her 
 father; for Mr. Hope answered, " Then please ask Fraulein, 
 from me, if she will excuse you and Lina just now." 
 
 The little girls both went to the schoolroom with tho 
 message, feeling that they were safer if they could stick 
 together through the unknown perils which seemed to lie 
 before them. Lina would not dai*e to go to the library 
 alone and wait till her sister returned; but, in truth, it 
 was Alice who had been most perturbed by the unexpected 
 summons. 
 
 "We have not been doing anything wrong, have we 1 ?" 
 she said to her sister in a hurried undertone.
 
 302 UNDER EXAMINATION. 
 
 "No; nothing very particular, that I can remember, 
 worse than usual," answered Lina. " Only, I don't know." 
 
 But when they came to their father in the library, he 
 did not seem at all angry, though rather doubtful what to 
 say to his children. They stood uneasily beside him on 
 the rug; Alice shifting from one leg to another and looking 
 up at him, Lina very still, and letting her eyes wander 
 everywhere but to his face. And this went on for a few 
 moments before Mr. Hope said, " I should like to hear you 
 read aloud a little, Alice. Choose any book you like." 
 
 " Lina reads better," she answered quickly. 
 
 " I should like to hear you both; but you first." 
 
 Alice was a very long time in selecting a book, but Mr. 
 Hope's patience did not seem at all worn out; apparently 
 his thoughts afforded him quite sufficient occupation, as he 
 watched her turning desperately from shelf to shelf. ' At 
 last she came back with a volume of Schiller; but even 
 then she was not ready to read, but turned and fumbled at 
 the leaves with a face crimsoning ever deeper. It was a 
 very unusual thing to see Alice shy and nervous, but her 
 father's great quietness and gentleness of manner had 
 always a strange power of striking awe into her. 
 
 " What are you looking for?" asked Mr. Hope at last. 
 
 " ' Das Lied von der Glocke.' I don't know where it's 
 gone." 
 
 He found it for her; and she read several verses very 
 fast, and without the slightest attempt at expression, but 
 correctly enough, as far as the mere words were concerned. 
 Her father never interrupted her ; not even when she 
 stopped did he make any remark. There was a pause; 
 and then Alice asked: " Go on, shall I? or will that do?" 
 
 "Yes; that will do," he answered. "Do you like it 
 very much 1"
 
 UNHAPPY ALICE ! 393 
 
 " No!" said Alice, staring at him in open-eyed astonish- 
 ment. " We've been learning it with Fraulein." 
 
 " Then it's a pity you don't like it," said her father; and 
 Alice did not know whether he meant a reproach or not. 
 " Now, I want you to read me some English." 
 
 The little girls felt this was getting worse and worse; 
 and Alice said, " I'd rather read some more German, if I 
 must read." 
 
 " It is nice to know German well," said Mr. Hope, " but 
 to know English, even better; so I should like to hear you 
 read that. Will you take another book for yourself?" 
 
 Poor Alice was in a worse case now than before, for she 
 could not fall back on remembrance of Fraulein's lessons to 
 help her in her choice. They had never read any English 
 in the schoolroom but the " Tales of a Grandfather," and 
 even that had been given up since Lina was ill, so it did 
 not occur to her to look for it. Lina, seeing her per- 
 plexity, slipped into her sister's hand a tiny copy of the 
 " Vicar of Wakefield," which she had stowed away in her 
 pocket to read at leisure moments. 
 
 "Will this do?" said Alice. "It's one of Hugh and 
 Lina's books ? " 
 
 Mr. Hope said " Yes." Alice cleared her throat violently 
 several times, and then rushed into the first chapter at a 
 breakneck pace; but she stuck and stopped short constantly 
 over words of very ordinary size, or else made at them des- 
 perately, and got over them in the most extraordinary 
 fashion. Her father corrected her and tried to keep her 
 right, his astonishment apparently growing greater at every 
 fresh mistake; but when she had read a couple of pages 
 and stopped, he kept silence for a little, as he had done 
 bffore. Alice did not venture to interrupt it this time; ami 
 after a little Mr. Hope said, " Now I want to hear Lina."
 
 .394 A NEW ARRANGEMENT. 
 
 She got on much better, though her voice trembled a 
 good deal at first. But she had been accustomed to read 
 to Hugh by the hour, while he was busy with his drawing 
 or carving; and Hugh was very particular about every 
 word that was read to him. He was far too interested and 
 attentive a listener not to insist upon having an intelligible 
 reader, and the consequence was that Lina had learned 
 much from the practice; and when she was interested in 
 her book, and quite at ease with her audience, could read 
 aloud very nicely. 
 
 " Hugh has been teaching you," said Mr. Hope when 
 Lina was done; then added, with a slight smile, "I think 
 I must take Hugh's place, now he has gone. If you will 
 come to me every morning at this hour, just after breakfast, 
 you can read and write English with me for a while. I 
 shall speak to Fraulein about it." 
 
 " About Lina — not me 1 " asked Alice eagerly. She 
 could not have explained why the idea of spending every 
 morning in the library seemed tenible to her, but so it 
 certainly was, and she clutched at the idea that her father 
 would think her English altogether too bad to be improved. 
 
 But her heart sank within her when he answered, " You 
 too, of course, my child. I dare say Fraulein will be able 
 to shorten your lessons with her, so that you will not have 
 too much to do." He added the last sentence in considera- 
 tion for his daughter's evident dismay. 
 
 "Shall we come to-morrow?" asked Lina, who looked on the 
 new proposal from quite a different point of view from Alice. 
 
 "Yes, come to-morrow; and bring your English lesson- 
 books with you." 
 
 " And exercise-books and pencils, I suppose 1 " 
 
 " Yes, certainly," said Mr. Hope, smiling ; " everything 
 you need for work."
 
 PAPA AS A TUTOR. 395 
 
 So, quietly and qiiickly was this wonderful new arrange- 
 ment made, and in the May days that followed the children 
 spent the greater part of the forenoons in the library with 
 their father. Very soon Mr. Hope got accustomed to it, 
 and the great book-lined room would have seemed solitary 
 to him if the morning sunlight had not fallen on two golden 
 heads bending over their reading and writing at the round 
 table in the window. They were so quiet, the little girls, 
 and from different motives so anxious to work well, that 
 he found his labour in teaching them much lighter than he 
 had expected ; and he used to wonder sometimes whether 
 he had not been wrong in avoiding these children as he had 
 done, and almost fearing them as creatures with whom he 
 could have nothing in common. 
 
 Possibly, if he had not wrapped himself up in his own 
 pursuits, and yielded so entirely to the desire for solitude, 
 during the years of their early childhood, these little 
 daughters might have grown up to love and be at ease with 
 him by this time ; now he feared it was too late for them 
 to learn that. But the desire for it grew stronger within 
 him, and it was out of anxiety to please the children, as 
 well as from his own love of books, that he tried, with 
 ] i.i ins and care that were almost pathetic, to make the 
 lessons he gave them interesting. And with one at least of 
 his daughters the success was great. 
 
 Lina grew to love the quiet atmosphere of the library, and 
 would willingly have sat there for hour after hour. The 
 sensation of gaining knowledge was delightful to her, too; 
 and that sensation grew stronger every day, until at last 
 all fears on Nelly's account were laid by. Papa knew so 
 much, and he was teaching Lina, and did not think Iier at 
 all stupid; so that there was no doubt that she in her turn 
 would be able to teach Nelly when the time came. She
 
 396 the children's progress. 
 
 never lost sight of the benefit for Nelly, which had been 
 the first impulse moving her to the studies which had 
 grown into such an important part of her life, but her mind 
 was open now to other feelings which she certainly never 
 dreamed of at first. Over the lessons where the father was 
 so patient and the daughter so attentive, the two drew near 
 together, and knit the first bonds of a friendship which 
 grew stronger and stronger in the years that were to come. 
 Instinctively Lina grew to understand a nature that was 
 like her own in many ways, — in sensitive shyness, in lack 
 of self-confidence, and also in a deep, true kindliness ; 
 though years of lonely silence, and perhaps of remorseful 
 feeling, had encrusted that with an almost impenetrable 
 reserve. 
 
 But Alice — she never learned to enjoy her morning 
 lessons ; they remained to her always something of a stern 
 duty or mournful penance to be done. The chief good she 
 got out of them was perhaps the acquiring of something of 
 self-control and perseverance, though she began to make 
 very fair progress in English under her father's teaching. 
 The awe she had of him was great, and the silence of the 
 library cast a spell over her that made her try hard to put 
 something of befitting softness into her voice and motions. 
 She had an almost overwhelming sense of the honour as 
 well as the trouble bestowed on her, and worked for her 
 father as no one had ever seen Alice work at her lessons 
 before. 
 
 Of course, Lina meanwhile was longing for a letter from 
 Hugh, and wrote and wrote him again ; but nearly a fort- 
 night passed, and nothing had come from him to Hope- 
 field but the short note in which he told his Aunt Lottie 
 how he and Charley had arrived safely, and what the 
 weather was in England, and how many pupils Mr. Ogilvie
 
 A LETTER AT LAST. 397 
 
 had. Lina was very melancholy, and fancied Hugh had 
 forgotten her; but I think the real reason of his silence 
 was, that he felt it inconsistent with his dignity to write 
 too soon to his little cousin. The very fact that he did 
 miss her, made him alarmed lest any one should think it. 
 
 But at last a letter came, addressed, with Hugh's finest 
 flourishes, to Miss Caroline Hope — a letter which Lina 
 received with joy that was almost tearful, carried about in 
 her pocket for days, and read and re-read till she knew it 
 by heart. To other and less partial eyes it might have 
 seemed a very ordinary epistle from a self-conceited school- 
 boy, much afraid of exhibiting any affectionate feeling ; but 
 Lina found stores of wisdom, wit, and tenderness in this 
 epistle of Hugh's. 
 
 " My Dear Lina, — I herewith send a list of the words 
 you misspelt in your letters to me, and would advise you 
 to copy them several times, so as to make sure of them. 
 Don't get doleful, however ; you will improve, I have no 
 doubt, in the course of time. So Uncle Edward is taking 
 you and Alice in hand ! ! ! I wish he had taken me when 
 I was at Hopefield. I might have done some good with 
 him, instead of worrying the life out of that double-distilled 
 donkey Duncan. How does Alice get along 1 I don't know 
 whether I pity her or Uncle E. most. 
 
 " This is a decent place on the whole, and Ogilvie is a 
 nice fellow. Mrs. 0. is not so much liked ; she wears 
 corkscrew ringlets, and (the fellows think) puts her hus- 
 band up to all the mean things he does — which certainly 
 are not many, it must be said. By-the-by, she did rather 
 a neat thing last Sunday. She caught two of the biggest 
 fallows playing cricket with a book and a ball of worsted, 
 and she sent them off to their rooms with two verses of a
 
 398 NEWS OF HUGH AND CHARLEY. 
 
 hynm to learn as a punishment. One of them said after- 
 wards he never felt so small in his life. It was rather a 
 sell. There are two small Ogilvies — Bee and May — with 
 yellow hair and very fat legs : really pretty they are, though. 
 May is rather like you, I think, and perhaps that is the rea- 
 son I rather like her. Charley is sadly idle, and never out of 
 scrapes, but a great favourite here. He sends you his love, 
 and says that some of the fellows get boxes of goodies from 
 home sometimes. Also he desires that his compliments 
 should be presented to nurse, and the old lady told how 
 much he enjoyed her tony. Did you ever know such a 
 greedy chap 1 Write again soon, like a good old woman. 
 I quite enjoy your letters. Give my love to everybody ; 
 and believe me your affectionate cousin, 
 
 " Hugh Mackenzie."
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ROCKHAVEX. 
 
 |T was a beautiful, fresh June day, and the Aber- 
 innan station was in a bustle of expectation be- 
 fore the arrival of the train for the south; just as 
 it had been when Alice and Lina were ready to set out on 
 their famous shopping expedition in the end of December. 
 
 Did the villagers understand that the Miss Hopes were 
 going now to the sea-side 1 Alice and Lina hoped they had 
 found it out by studying the big boxes addressed to Rock- 
 haven, which had been sent in a cart from Hopefield in the 
 morning, and had lain since then on the platform, awaiting 
 the arrival of their owners. 
 
 One at least of the inhabitants of Aberinnan was suffi- 
 ciently impressed with the fact. An old woman, with a 
 hard-featured face and a big black bonnet, came to the sta- 
 tion half an hour before train-time ; and quickly discover- 
 ing the boxes from Hopefield, stood guard over them 
 grimly, looking as if she quite expected some one would 
 attempt to make off with them. There she was when the 
 carriage drove up to the gate; and Alice, breaking away 
 from the rest of the party, came bounding across the plat- 
 form and caught her in rather a rough embrace. 
 
 " nurse ! aren't you glad it's such a beautiful day!" 
 
 Nurse's eyes had been gleaming with satisfaction ever 
 since she caught sight of her girl ; but she only said, v^rv
 
 400 AT THE RAILWAY-STATION. 
 
 gruffly, " Ay, it's a fine day. Your boxes are libelled all 
 right. Will Frewlin be able to look after them 1" 
 
 " Oh yes," said Alice indifferently. " She'll fuss and 
 look after them a great deal too much, I should think. 
 She always expects things to go wrong. And Jessie's going 
 too, you know." 
 
 Nurse looked as if she had not any very high opinion of 
 either Fraulein's or Jessie's capabilities of looking after 
 things ; but she did not say so, only turned a careful look 
 on Alice from head to foot, and remarked, " That frock 
 will soon be ower short for you." 
 
 It was the sailor-dress of last autumn, somewhat the 
 worse for wear now, and already quite an ancient garment 
 in Alice's eyes. " It's been let down all it will go," she said; 
 " and Lina's had to be let down too. Mamma says we're 
 to wear them out among the rocks ; and we've got striped 
 petticoats to help. Oh, we've got plenty of clothes." 
 
 " I'se warran' that," said nurse grimly. " Trust the mis- 
 tress for buying new frocks. Weel, weel, she's young, and 
 she's got the money; and mebbe" — here her tone softened 
 — " it's not everybody would spend it on their step-bairns." 
 
 Alice was too much excited and preoccupied about her 
 own affairs to pay much heed to nurse's last speech, though, 
 indeed, it was a somewhat significant expression of what 
 had come to be the old woman's feelings. Nurse, in her 
 attic-chamber at Aberinnan, had missed the society, and 
 the comforts, and the space of the Hopefield house, more 
 than she had ever dreamed it would be possible to do. 
 Her anger with the children she had repented of almost 
 immediately ; but besides this, her disapproval of Mrs. 
 Hope had been undergoing considerable modification as 
 time passed on. 
 
 Humbled by the discovery that she had been unkind to
 
 TELLING NURSE THE NEWS. 401 
 
 Miss Carrie's children, her trust in herself was weakened ; 
 and sometimes, in her loneliness, she would wonder if she 
 had not also been rather harsh in her judgment of one who 
 was, after all, an inexperienced and perhaps well-meaning 
 young creature, who could not be expected to understand 
 how presumptuous it was of her to attempt to fill the place 
 of mistress of Hopefield. Moreover, Mrs. M'Nab — of 
 course, with no reference to any case but her own — had 
 regaled her lodger with such stories of petty oppression and 
 discomfort, as well as real unkindness, experienced by her 
 in her childhood after her father's second marriage, that it 
 had occurred to nurse that perhaps she ought rather to con- 
 gratulate herself that Mrs. Hope was so good-natured to 
 her stepdaughters, than grumble because she had so com- 
 pletely won their affection. 
 
 " Mamma isn't coming with us," said Alice. " I wish 
 she were ! But she doesn't like the sea-side. Only per- 
 haps she and papa may come next week to see us, and stay 
 a night at the hotel. We are to be in lodgings — one room 
 for Fraulein, one for Jessie, one for Lina and me, and a par- 
 lour. And we've got bathing-dresses made with knicker- 
 bockers." 
 
 " It's a fine place, Rockhaven," said nurse. " I took 
 Lina and you there when you were little wee lassies. You 
 had nobody but old nurse to look after you then." 
 
 "I wish we had you now," said Alice; "I wish you 
 were coming with us. Or even if you went to Hopefield, 
 that would do, so that we might have you when we came 
 back. But there's no chance. You'll never come back, 
 nurse, will you 1 You see you are so very — " Here Alice 
 paused for an expression, feeling that to say "obstinate" 
 would be hardly polite, and finally finished up with " so 
 very settled in your own mind." 
 
 (564) 26
 
 402 SAYING GOOD-BYE. 
 
 Nurse turned away her head and answered slowly, " I'm 
 no more use up at Hopefield, my dear." 
 
 "Would you come back if you were 1 ?" asked Alice. 
 But nurse did not make any reply. 
 
 Then Lina came up, and Alice moved away to the iron 
 seat, where her stepmother sat having a talk with Fraulein, 
 who was very nervous about her responsibilities as head of 
 the schoolroom party; for what if the children took ill or 
 fell among the rocks 1 and how was she to manage the 
 housekeeping and the English money 1 ? Mrs. Hope was 
 assuring her, in French that had lost little of the fluency 
 of her foreign school-days, that such fears were entirely 
 useless and vain; nothing would go wrong; nothing ever 
 did go wrong, if people would only think so. They would 
 have a delightful time at the sea-side. Alice would be 
 sensible, and Lina would grow strong ; Jessie would be a 
 great comfort; and Fraulein herself must remember it was 
 holiday-time, and rest and enjoy herself. Fraulein was 
 shaking her head with a mournful half-smile as she played 
 with the chain of her reticule; and though she was pleased 
 that Mrs. Hope had such entire confidence in her, she was 
 still more pleased that Mrs. Hope had committed the 
 company of travellers to the special charge of the guard; 
 for had they not to change carriages before they came to 
 Eockhaven 1 And what possibilities of getting into mis- 
 chief were involved in changing carriages ! 
 
 Down came the train at last, puffing furiously. The 
 children were so frantically excited that they would have 
 rushed away without bidding good-bye to their stepmother, 
 had she not held them back and kissed them. " A pleasant 
 journey, and a happy time. I'm sure you'll get on well. 
 Good-bye." They scarcely paused to answer her; and still 
 less heed did they pay to nurse, who came up to whisper,
 
 PARTING INJUNCTIONS. 
 
 403 
 
 B 
 
 " I've given Jessie a cake I made, to put in her bag. 
 Ye'll be hungry on the road." Mr. Hope had found a 
 carriage, and Fraulein was beckoning in an agonized way 
 at the door ; she would not enter till she saw Alice and 
 Lina fairly in. Jessie was all in a flutter about the wraps 
 and packages; but all was put to rights at last. And then 
 it turned out there had been no need of hurry ; there 
 was plenty of time; the train was not going to move yet 
 for a little. 
 
 Both girls put out their heads, feeling a sudden longing 
 after those they were leaving and did not expect to see 
 again for a month. Mrs. Hope had not followed on their 
 frantic rush to the carriage; she remained at the iron seat 
 a little back. But they could see her perfectly, and she 
 waved and nodded. Nm-se was on her way out at the 
 gate ; but she too was looking round, and held up her 
 hand in sign of farewell. 
 
 "0 mamma! O nurse!" cried Lina, stretching out her 
 arms towards them, with a queer, heart-tightening feeling 
 coming among her pleasure. Alice was making a bound 
 out of the carriage again, when her father's voice stopped 
 her on the step. Friiulein's clutch at her dress from behind 
 would not have hindered her much. 
 
 "Where are you going, Alice? The train will start 
 this moment!" 
 
 "But I have ever so many things to say to mamma." 
 
 " Too late now, unless you can say them to me." 
 
 "Will you remember to tell her, though?" 
 
 "I shall try faithfully," said Mr. Hope, smiling a little. 
 
 "Well, then, if there are letters from the boys, will 
 mamma send thorn on?" 
 
 "Oh yes, please," said Lin.'.. 
 
 "Well, T think she'll remember; but I'll tell her."
 
 404 A LONG SPEECH. 
 
 " And there's another bit of ribbon for Toodlekins in the 
 top drawer, when the one she's got on is dirty. And will 
 she please remember she promised to have Toodles in the 
 drawing-room sometimes, in case she's lonely 1 ? — not mamma, 
 I mean — Toodlekins. And, please, if you happen to see 
 mamma writing to us, or hear her saying she was writing 
 to us — to me or Lina — ask her if she is putting in plenty 
 about Nelly. She said she would go and see her some- 
 times." All this Alice gave forth as fast as ever she 
 could, and her father listened attentively. It was doubtful 
 whether he ever had such a long speech addressed to him 
 by his eldest daughter before. " If you can't remember it 
 all, papa," said Alice, " do try to remember about Nelly. 
 I think that's all." 
 
 But just as the train was moving she jumped up 
 again, crying out, " Oh no, there's something more." 
 Mr. Hope walked along the platform to hear; but Alice 
 was being taken so quickly from him that she was doubt- 
 ful whether he caught her words, " If any one told nurse 
 she was any good at home, I believe she'd want to go 
 back." 
 
 The train passed on, and soon left Aberinnan behind, 
 and then its suburb Port "Weston, and in a little the 
 children had a last glimpse of Hopefield through the far- 
 away woods, which seemed to part for one instant and 
 then close about it again. Then they began to look out 
 for the reflections on the water, and the name of the 
 station cut out on the grass, and the other remarkable 
 things they were in the way of noticing between Aberinnan 
 and the city. But that journey was well-known ground 
 to them, compared to what was coming next. Alice and 
 Lina had some faint recollections of their early visit to 
 Rockhaven, but they were very dream-like, and all they
 
 IN SIGHT OF THE SEA. 405 
 
 really knew about the place was that it was another hour's 
 journey southward from the town. 
 
 The changing of carriages was managed nicely ; there 
 was plenty of time to find the luggage, and not enough to 
 lose it again, before the train for Rockkaven was ready. 
 Fraulein finding the guard very polite, Jessie cool and 
 skilful, and the little girls perfectly quiet and well-behaved, 
 was much relieved, and inclined to think this a most 
 propitious commencement to her period of responsibility. 
 
 The drive was a beautiful one after they left the city, 
 for the railroad skirted the sea-shore all the way; and the 
 sun was on the ocean, colouring it with intense blue, and 
 making the sails of the distant ships glitter dazzling white. 
 Alice and Lina were in ecstasy. They jumped about 
 constantly, and waxed very noisy in their excitement; 
 tyrannizing over Fraulein, too, and determined that no 
 considerations of dust or draughts should prevail to make 
 them shut out the fresh, strong sea-breeze that came blow- 
 ing through the window. Every new bay or inlet, every 
 pile of rocks, and every stretch of water that came into 
 view, seemed to them more wonderful than what had gone 
 before. But at last, as the afternoon was wearing through, 
 they caught sight of a fishing-town, nestled in a rock-girt 
 bay; and on the further side, where the cliffs rose high, 
 stood the ruins of a great old castle looking out to sea. 
 Underneath, stretching out from the harbour in an ever- 
 lengthening line across the sunset glow of the waves, 
 streamed a fleet of brown-sailed herring-boats ; and that 
 was what pleased Alice and Lina most of all. 
 
 They broke out into exclamations of regret when a sud- 
 den curve of the railroad took them out of sight of this 
 picture; but the train was slackening speed, and presently 
 stopped at a station standing all by itself beside a dusty
 
 406 
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT ROCKHAVEN. 
 
 road, and flat green fields such as one could have anywhere. 
 Not a vestige of sea was visible; it might have been miles 
 off, for anything the eye could find out. 
 
 "What station is this?" asked Fraulein. And Alice 
 put her head and a large part of her body out of the win- 
 dow to read the name; and lo! it was Rockhaven. 
 
 It was a shock for a moment, and then the explanation 
 dawned upon them. This was only the station, not the 
 town ; that would be at a little distance. It would, doubt- 
 less, be the very town they bad been so sorry to lose 
 sight of a few minutes before. " Fraulein, do you think 
 we shall see herring-boats?" asked Lina, as soon as her feet 
 touched the platform. But no one heeded her; for Frau- 
 lein and Jessie were hurrying to the luggage-van, and 
 Alice was already at the gate, looking if there was any 
 conveyance to be seen. Lina stood rather forlorn, trying 
 to calculate how far off the dear bay with the brown sails 
 on it might be; but it seemed impossible to judge. She 
 was feeling keenly that uneasy sense of novelty which is 
 often the beginning of home-sickness. Papa and mamma 
 were far away, and this strange place was all dusty and 
 glaring; visions of a return to Hopefield began to look 
 sweeter than even a prospect of expeditions to the beach at 
 Rockhaven. Then back came Alice, head erect and step 
 firm, passing Lina almost contemptuously, and going on to 
 Fraulein, who was trying hard to persuade Jessie and the 
 station-master that all their luggage had not been brought 
 out of the train. 
 
 " But my basket, my little basket!" she was exclaiming 
 in a last outburst of helpless fidgeting, when Alice ap- 
 peared on the scene. 
 
 " You've got it in your hand, ma'am," said Jessie; whereat 
 the railway people grinned, and Fraulein herself, who was
 
 THE DRIVE INTO THE TOWN. 407 
 
 not without a sense of humour, began to smile too. But 
 Alice stepped up with quick decision, and took hold of her 
 governess's arm, saying, with perfect gravity, — "I've ar- 
 ranged everything. There are no cabs; but there's a man 
 with an omnibus, — he'll take us all, if we pay him, and the 
 luggage. The town's a mile off; but he has to go at any 
 rate, and he knows where Mrs. Murray lives, only he 
 doesn't know if she's expecting us." 
 
 Lina was overpowered with admiration of her sister's 
 managing powei'S, nor could Friiulein's anxiety or Jessie's 
 smartness detect any flaw in Alice's arrangements. They 
 had the omnibus all to themselves; and once inside it, 
 rattling along the dusty road to the town, Lina began to 
 feel joyfully expectant again, eagerly looking out for 
 glimpses of blue water, and remembering with some satis- 
 faction that mamma had said she had written Mrs. Murray 
 to have tea ready for them when they arrived. 
 
 They did not see much of the sea, however, before they 
 drove into the town; and Mrs. Murray's house turned out 
 to be in a street with other houses opposite. Alice and 
 Lina were not quite sure whether that would be pleasant 
 or not; but they did not stop to consider. Mrs. Murray, 
 a pleasant-faced woman of middle age, was waiting to show 
 her lodgers to their rooms, so leaving Fraulein and Jessie 
 to settle with the driver, the two girls bounded upstairs, 
 and found themselves in a very clean, cheery parlour, where 
 the table was all set ready for tea. Carrying their explora- 
 tions further, they discovered a somewhat formal-looking 
 chamber next door, which they immediately dedicated to 
 Fraulein's use; and then, upstairs again, a great double- 
 bedded attic, very light, and somewhat scanty in furniture. 
 And when Lina went to the window, she uttered an ex- 
 clamation of delight, for there was the sea, all blue and
 
 408 AT THE SEA-SIDE. 
 
 shining; and fax away, just disappearing below the horizon, 
 the last of the herring-boats. 
 
 Tea was ready in a few minutes, — a delicious tea, with 
 beaf-steak, and new bread, and nurse's cake, which had been 
 forgotten during the journey, but was very acceptable now. 
 
 Afterwards, of course, Alice and Lina wanted to go out; 
 but Fraulein must needs write a letter to Hopefield, to tell 
 that they had arrived safely, though Alice assured her 
 there was no need, for mamma would never imagine they 
 had done anything else. So Jessie went with them to the 
 beach, where it was quite cool, — perhaps a little cold now, 
 — and they stood by the brink of the sea, which looked 
 gray now that the sunshine was gone, and the waves came 
 one by one, and broke, and sent long, smooth tongues of 
 water up into the land. Alice and Lina tried how near 
 they could let them approach without getting their feet 
 wet ; but the end of it was, that one bigger, nimbler wave 
 than usual made a rush, and went right over Alice's boots, 
 whereat she laughed and Jessie scolded much. 
 
 And away over the sea there was a ship very far off, but 
 not one brown-sailed boat to be seen. But Jessie had 
 heard from Mrs. Murray that the herring-fishers came in 
 early in the morning ; they set sail from Eockhaven har- 
 bour every afternoon, and fished the whole night through 
 just now. Alice thought it would be very nice to go in a 
 herring-boat for once, at least, to see what like it was, but 
 Lina was not at all of the same opinion. 
 
 And as they stood throwing pebbles at the white-crested 
 waves, a little rowing-boat came across the bay. The sea 
 was rather rough, and it made for the land with a series of 
 courtesies, sometimes going down so low that even Alice 
 was afraid for its safety ; but when it came ashore near 
 them, the boatmen were all laughing and merry, and the
 
 VERY HAPPY. 409 
 
 little girls, began to wonder if there had really been any 
 danger after all. 
 
 Such were the wonderful things Alice and Lina saw at 
 the sea-side that first evening, and they were not at all in- 
 clined to go back to the house when Jessie said it was time. 
 But reflecting that the sooner they went to bed the sooner 
 morning would come, and that when morning came they 
 might not only look at the waves but bathe in them, they 
 yielded after a minute ; and when it was still quite light, 
 the two children were safely tucked up in the two white 
 beds in that wonderful attic-chamber that looked out on 
 the sea. 
 
 " Oh yes ! we shall be very happy here — very happy here," 
 was the tune that went on in the children's brains as they 
 began at last to grow drowsy; and that was the last thought 
 they were conscious of ere they went to sleep.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 STRANGE NEWS FROM HOPEFIELD. 
 
 MAGINE a tiny bay, -walled in by great brown 
 rocks; the tide slipping slowly out from golden 
 sands; one little girl, in a blue striped petticoat, 
 wading and splashing with bare feet among the waves, and 
 another lying full length on the shore, just within high- 
 water mark, seeking for shells. A dark-faced lady sits 
 knitting under the shade of a jutting-out cliff and her own 
 very broad hat ; while a neatly-dressed damsel wandei'S 
 rather aimlessly about over rocks and sands. It is Alice's 
 thirteenth birthday, and the Hopefield party are doing 
 honour to it by a picnic. 
 
 They had planned it all a week ago; and when the 
 morning came — unlike the birthdays in books, as Lina 
 remarked — it did not rain, nor even look as if it intended 
 to. So Fraulein and Alice, Lina and Jessie, set off to this 
 little sea-side nook some two miles from Rockkaven, — a 
 place recommended by Mrs. Murray, because wonderful 
 little shells could be found there, so small and delicate that 
 they were used to string into necklaces and bracelets. To 
 gather a great many of these, and make ornaments for their 
 mamma, had been the firm intention of Alice and Lina; 
 but when they arrived at the bay after a long hot walk, 
 they were rather dismayed to find no particular appearance 
 of shells. I think they had had some idea that the sand
 
 SHELL-HUNTING. ill 
 
 was to be literally covered with them, for they loudly com- 
 plained of being misled by Mrs. Murray. However, they 
 consoled themselves after a little with the undoubted beauty 
 of the quiet little bay, which they had all to themselves; 
 and after they had been refreshed by a bathe, they were 
 quite ready to enjoy the delightful repast of sandwiches, 
 hard-boiled eggs, and jam-puffs, which was spread out on a 
 napkin on the sand. After that, Lina caught sight of one 
 or two shells, and then of one or two more, and she and 
 Alice set themselves to search diligently for a while. They 
 found they could only see them by bringing their eyes very 
 near the sand; and even then the shells were scarce com- 
 pared to what they had been in their fond imagination. 
 Alice soon wearied of the quest altogether. 
 
 " "We'll never gather enough to make mamma a bracelet," 
 she said. *" Besides, she's got bracelets already; I don't 
 believe she would care for a shell one. Anyway, I'm sure 
 she wouldn't like me to poke my eyes out in the sand, 
 instead of enjoying myself, on my birthday." 
 
 With these words, she rapidly whisked off her stockings 
 and shoes and marched into the sea. Fraulein and Jessie 
 always said that wading was improper for a young lady on 
 the crowded beach at Rockhaven ; but here, where not a 
 human being was in sight, Alice felt that they could not 
 have the shadow of an excuse for interfering with her 
 delightful pastime. 
 
 Lina was not inclined to give up the business of shell- 
 hunting so soon. True, she was not sanguine now about 
 getting enough to make a bracelet or a necklace ; but then 
 every single one was a treasure, for these tiny things were so 
 exquisitely formed and coloured that Lina thought they v 
 fitter for the beach of Fairyland than for any mortal shore. 
 
 So Lina lay and looked for slwlls. and talked to Alice
 
 412 THE PICNIC-PARTY. 
 
 disporting herself in the waves ; while Friiulein knitted, 
 and perhaps thought of Germany away over the blue water; 
 and Jessie wandered about doing nothing, and, I am afraid, 
 feeling rather cross and dull, and wishing she were back at 
 Hopefield. 
 
 " You ought to come in, Lina," said Alice. " It's so 
 jolly, the water in among your toes." 
 
 " Oh no; it tickles," said Lina — " at least the sand does; 
 and you can't dry it off, not without ever so much trouble. 
 E've done it once already to-day." 
 
 " But let the sand stick on," said Alice. " Why not? 
 It's quite clean; or, if you don't like it, you can get it off 
 in the bath at home — at Mrs. Murray's, I mean," she 
 added, correcting herself; for, pleasant as Rockkaven was, 
 she was not at all inclined to regard it as anything else but 
 a place of sojourning. 
 
 Lina shook her head, and counted her shells; and Alice 
 took another walk out to sea, — making it a very long one 
 this time, for she did not stop till her dress was in the 
 water. Then she thought it advisable to turn, and came 
 striding slowly back, and up on the dry land beside Lina, 
 where she sat down and began poking in the sand thought- 
 fully with her toes. 
 
 " I wonder what they're doing at home now, Lina." 
 
 " I don't know — I've no idea," said Lina, raising herself 
 and looking grave too; for days had passed since Alice's 
 letter had come, and the promised one to Lina had never 
 followed it; nor had Fraulein, or Jessie either, heard any 
 news from Hopefield. " Perhaps there will be a letter 
 waiting us when we go back. The second post will be in, 
 you know." 
 
 " Or there will come one to you to-morrow," said Alice ; 
 " and that would be able to tell again about Sunday, and
 
 WEARYING FOR A LETTER. 413 
 
 Nelly coming. If a letter comes to-morrow, it will only 
 just be a week since the last." 
 
 " Yes," said Lina, " but a week's more than a day or 
 two; and it was a day or two mamma said — ' A letter will 
 come to Lina in a day or two.' " 
 
 "Probably, she said, Lina; only probably" 
 
 " "Well, but I did think she would have remembered 
 your birthday," said Lina. 
 
 Alice gave her foot another and a very deep push into 
 the sand, but made no answer. It was not difficult for 
 Lina to see that she too was disappointed that no notice 
 had been taken of her birthday ; and immediately the kind 
 little sister regretted what she had said, and made haste to 
 show a more comfortable view of the matter. 
 
 " But posts are such stupid things, Lally. I believe 
 mamma wrote on Saturday all right ; but she must have 
 been too late for a post, or it's been the train's fault some- 
 how, or the fault of the post-office here. I believe the 
 letter, or whatever it is, will come all safe to-morrow morn- 
 ing — you'll see. And mamma will have meant it to come 
 to-day. She knew your birthday ; she's known it ever so 
 long, for I told her before Christmas." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say it will be all right," said Alice cheer- 
 fully; for how could she feel dull when it was such a lovely 
 day, and the picnic had gone off so well, ami they had the 
 reading of the " Golden Ladder" to look forward to in the 
 evening? For Lina, at least, had kept Lolly's birthday 
 well in mind; the present she had planned months ago had 
 been lying ready for weeks before they left Hopefield; it 
 had travelled to Rockhaven in Fraulein's trunk, and, car- 
 ried up secretly by Lina when she went to bed the evening 
 before, had been concealed undo- her pillow then, and pre- 
 sented whenever sho woke in the morning.
 
 414 ON THE ROAD HOME. 
 
 " We'll have a jolly time after tea with the ' Golden 
 Ladder,' " said Alice. 
 
 " Ah ! I know something jolly you will see before that, 
 only I mustn't tell you — it's a secret," said Lina, smiling 
 to herself as she thought of the cake Fraulein had made for 
 Alice and sent to the baker's to be fired. It was part of 
 Alice's code of morality that it was wrong to beg for the 
 revelation of secrets, but I think she had a very good guess 
 of the nature of this one. She too smiled to herself; and 
 presently she remarked that it must be nearly time to go 
 back to Rockkaven, for she was beginning to grow hungry. 
 Fraulein apparently seemed to have come to the same con- 
 clusion, for she looked at her watch, and began to put up 
 her knitting. 
 
 " I'll go in again," said Alice, " once, and then I'll put 
 on my stockings. Go you and get Jessie. See, Fraulein 
 wants you to." 
 
 The party took the inland road home, which was longer 
 but less tiring than the one above the cliffs where they 
 had come in the morning. They passed the solitary fisher's 
 hut just round the corner of the bay; and after that the 
 way led amidst green shady woods, through which they 
 walked in leisurely fashion. Jessie had the big basket, 
 which was light enough now; and Lina was much concerned 
 about the careful carrying of her shells; while Fraulein 
 and Alice, the unburdened ones, walked before, and planned 
 another excursion back again to the place where they had 
 spent so happy a day. 
 
 So they went on chattering gaily, and did not find 
 the way long, till they reached the outskirts of the little 
 town. 
 
 As they turned the corner of their own street, Alice 
 made a rush off in front; and when the others came to Mrs.
 
 Alice's disappointment. 415 
 
 Murray's dooi*, she was standing there with a letter in 
 her hand; but Lina saw by her face it was not the one 
 she had hoped for. "Here, Fraulein," she said, stretch- 
 ing it out to her governess ; " that's all. It's not from 
 mamma." 
 
 Then Alice went upstairs two steps at a time, straight 
 to her own attic ; and so determined was she not to be 
 downhearted, that she began to whistle before she reached 
 the top. Lina would have done better to take her cue 
 from her, and pretend there was nothing to be disappointed 
 about ; but as it was, she let her sympathy outrun her dis- 
 cretion, and trying to put her arms about Alice, she said 
 tenderly, — " I'm sui-e it's the post-office's fault it's gone 
 wrong, Lally ! " 
 
 " Who said anything had gone wrong 1 " said Alice em- 
 phatically, shaking oif her embrace. 
 
 Hurt and silenced, Lina turned away, and set about get- 
 ting herself tidy for tea. She felt that honour ought to be 
 done to Alice's birthnight by some change of dress, and 
 she found a good deal of consolation in her own cleverness 
 in finding and putting on a clean print frock and white 
 stockings without any help of Jessie's. She was just 
 fastening the last of her buttons when she heard her maid 
 coming upstairs; and feeling that the cake would be tho 
 first thing to gladden Alice, she opened tho door, and 
 called cheerily, — 
 
 " Is tea ready — and everything now 1 " 
 
 But Jessie put Lina aside with a grave, unreadable face, 
 and went into the room where Alice was making a great 
 splashing in the basin, and did not lift her head. 
 
 " Froolin wants to speak to you both in the parlour." 
 
 Something in Jessie's tone made the Mood all leave 
 Lina's cheeks, as she asked eagerly. — "Oh, what fori"
 
 41 G ALARMING NEWS. 
 
 " To tell you something in her letter," said Jessie, after 
 a moment's hesitation. 
 
 Alice turned, and made haste to dry her face and get 
 again into the serge dress which was lying on the floor. 
 Jessie helped her silently, and Lina stood and waited. A 
 great fear had settled on both the children : to Alice, terrible 
 in its very vagueness, to Lina full of all sorts of different 
 possibilities ; but neither of them asked another question, 
 though they were sure that Jessie could have told more if 
 she would. 
 
 They went downstairs together, and made a stand just 
 inside the open parlour door. The festive tea was all laid 
 ready, and by the table Fraulein stood waiting for them, still 
 with her hat and shawl, just as she had come in. Her face 
 was tearful, and she was trembling ; an open letter lay be- 
 fore her. "0 my poor children!" she said, and stopped, 
 not knowing how to prepare them for what she had to tell. 
 "My poor dear children! — I am so sorry for you — how 
 can I tell you ? " 
 
 " Get on," said Alice savagely. "Any thing's better than 
 doing like that." 
 
 It was the misfortune of this child that she had the way 
 of repulsing all sympathy ; Fraulein was irritated at her 
 rudeness, and inclined for the moment to doubt whether 
 she had any feeling at all. " It is bad news," she said. 
 " Your mamma is very ill — you have got a little brother, 
 but he is scarcely expected to live, — and your mamma is 
 very ill." 
 
 The children stood in perfect silence for what seemed to 
 them a very long time. Lina found herself examining all 
 that was on the tea-table, observing the shape of Fraulein 's 
 cake, and how it was burned a little on one side ; then she 
 lowered her eyes, and they fell on her dress, and she
 
 THE CHILDREN'S GRIEF. I 1 7 
 
 counted the stripes on the front of it, and noticed that it 
 was still mai'ked with the folds in which it had been laid 
 away in the drawer. Alice's voice was the first thing which 
 roused her faculties into some consciousness of grief, for 
 Alice spoke with a great gasp, as if she were choking. 
 
 " Where is the letter 1 " Then, as Fraulein hesitated, she 
 said more loudly, " Give me the letter. I will have it, — I 
 will see what it says ! " Then with a sudden outburst of 
 sorrow and self-loathing, " But I can't read it ! " she sat 
 down on the floor, and hid her face among the sofa- 
 cushions. 
 
 " Alice, there is nothing to read in the letter," said 
 Fraulein, feeling pitiful, but not knowing how to comfort, 
 for she had been told to prepare the children for the woi-st. 
 " I will tell you all. You are right in saying it is best. 
 You must pray for your mamma, for that is all you can 
 do. She is so very ill that the doctors fear much." 
 
 " And are we not going home 1 " asked Lina helplessly. 
 
 " You could do nothing, — you could not see her. If she 
 is conscious, the least disturbance will not be allowed in 
 her room, nor the excitement of seeing any one. But take 
 courage ; this letter is written yesterday. We shall surely 
 hive a telegram to-night." 
 
 Alice sat up, Leaning her elbow on the sofa, and looking 
 at her governess with tearless eyes. 
 
 " Papa won't let us go home," she said, " I know. How 
 can he, when I make such a noise, and am always knock- 
 ing about things 1 " 
 
 "My child," said Fraulein, "it is not that. T l>olieve 
 the very quietest person would not be allowed to come near 
 her now." 
 
 Fraulein was sadly at a loss about what to say oj do, for 
 her letter had furnished her with the barest facts ; and when 
 
 664) •>-
 
 418 BITTER THOUGHTS. 
 
 she said to the children she had told them all she knew of 
 Mrs. Hope's state, she was saying what was the literal 
 truth. And how could she console or advise these girls, 
 who seemed to take the news so strangely, — Lina standing 
 in utter helplessness and bewilderment, and Alice appar- 
 ently goaded to anger rather than sorrow 1 
 
 She was relieved when Alice rose and went away, Lina 
 following her upstairs. Fraulein thought they might talk 
 to and comfort each other if they were alone. Besides, she 
 could scarcely bear up herself much longer ; for the thought 
 of the young life cut so suddenly short at Hopefield struck 
 her with astonishment and pain, and she longed to shut 
 herself up and pray. 
 
 Alice went straight to the window in her room, and 
 opened it wide, and put her head out, as if she longed for 
 air. 
 
 " I want to go to the beach," she said. " If I saw big 
 waves, I think I would be better. Lina, if a telegraph 
 comes, it will be to say she's dead." 
 
 Lina made no answer. She was feeling so strange — just 
 as if it were another girl who had heard that her mamma 
 was dying ; and Lina was thinking about the child, and 
 very sorry for her, and a little curious to know how she 
 would behave. 
 
 " It's always the nice people that die," said Alice, " in 
 books and in the world. The nasty ones live on and on." 
 
 And Lina thought of " Uncle Tom's Cabin," where St. 
 Clare and Eva died and Marie lived ; and of Friiulein's 
 family, where it was Hilda, the pretty one, and the 
 cleverest, and the pet, who was taken, and the others left. 
 And as she remembered these things, she began to think 
 that the poor little girl's chances for a happy issue out of 
 her trouble were verv small indeed.
 
 A HEART-FELT SORROW. 419 
 
 " Why does God have it so 1" said Alice. " Why doesn't 
 he take a creature like me, that's always troubling people 1 
 Oh, I wish he would take me rather than mamma ! " 
 
 Then Lina forgot the other little girl entirely. With a 
 suddenly recovered sense of her own personality, she caught 
 hold of her sister and held her fast. A horror and black- 
 ness of darkness gathered round the child, for it seemed to 
 her she had to do with some relentless deity who demanded 
 a terrible sacrifice — the more terrible the better ; and here 
 was Alice willing to offer herself up. 
 
 " O Lally," said Lina, with a great and bitter cry, " don't 
 pray that ! Don't say that ! I can't give you up, — I 
 can't / Oh, and I scarcely think I can give up mamma ! 
 My heart's breaking." 
 
 She burst into a great fit of weeping, and Alice turned 
 and laid her head on her shoulder and wept too, the chil- 
 dren clasping each other and mingling their tears in silence 
 for a time. 
 
 " There noAv, stop," said Alice at last. " We ought to 
 be praying, instead of being stupid like this. What good 
 does it do mamma to cry 1 " 
 
 " But you won't pray that ? " said Lina, scarcely able 
 to speak through her sobs — " that you may die instead, — 
 you won't 1 Lally ! " And she held her sister fast. 
 
 "There's no use," said Alice; "God wouldn't take me. 
 They don't want creatures like me in heaven. Some time 
 I'll be good enough to go, though; and when the time 
 comes, nobody will be able to keep me. But I shouldn't 
 wonder if you were long gone by that time." 
 
 Lina unloosed her arms then; but her sister's words 
 were not so consoling to her as Alice had meant them to be. 
 She was by no means SO sure that Lally was not good 
 ugh to die, though she remembered with pleasure b
 
 420 IN HOPELESS MISERY. 
 
 cross she had been to her, and then again to Fraulein bub 
 a little while ago. No ; Lina must be patient and say, 
 God's will be done, and not rebel at the thought of mamma 
 lying ill, or else a worse thing might come upon her. God 
 might first take Alice at her word, and then he might 
 sweep all Lina's home empty — papa, Fraulein ; he might 
 demand them all — and who was she that she could say 
 him nay 1 Then, when Hopefield was all desolate, he might 
 send his angel of death to the far-away English school and 
 smite Hugh and Charley ; and still Lina would have never 
 a word to object, — for were they not his creatures, and had 
 he not made them all 1 
 
 It was an awful place where the child had got to, and 
 nothing was distinct in it but the terrible figure of the God 
 she was imagining — almighty, insatiable, stretching out 
 cruel hands to seize all she loved. She could not pray; and 
 while Alice knelt by the bed, sobbing and whispering out her 
 griefs into an ear that is ever ready to listen, Lina walked 
 up and down the room wringing her hands in hopeless 
 misery. 
 
 The sound of Fraulein coming inten-upted them at last; 
 she wanted them to go to tea — they had been too long 
 without food. 
 
 " We must not grieve too much," she said. " Your 
 mamma is in the dear God's hands. I know we have all 
 been laying her there just now." 
 
 Fraulein indeed looked as if she had been doing that and 
 had got peace by it, and perhaps Alice had been doing it 
 too ; but Lina knew that such work had been none of hers. 
 It did not matter, she said, in this strange new mood that 
 had come upon her ; God needed no consent of Lina's. He 
 had got her stepmother and all of them in his hands, and 
 she could not prevent him doing as he chose. And a
 
 DOWN TO THE SEA. 421 
 
 greater horror than ever came over Lima, blotting out 
 everything before it. 
 
 She went downstairs with Fraulein and Alice, scarcely 
 knowing what she did ; and the three sat down at the 
 table all set out with birthday dainties. 
 
 " I don't want tea ! " said Alice, with a fresh burst of 
 crying. " I shouldn't want tea, — I hate myself for want- 
 ing it ! But I'm so hungry ! " 
 
 " There is no harm in being hungry, dear child," said 
 Fraulein ; " you will feel better if you eat." 
 
 But Lina could not follow Friiulein's advice; she was 
 unable to swallow a morsel. They would have left her at 
 home as overtired when they went to the beach afterwards; 
 but she seemed to dread being alone, so, while the evening 
 was still bright, they all went down to the sea. A very 
 different looking party they were from the merry one that 
 had come back to Bockhaven in the afternoon. The two 
 girls clung to Fraulein and scarcely spoke a word, while 
 she was little more talkative. Alice got her wish of seeing 
 big waves. The sea was rather rough to-night, and they 
 came in fast and rose high, and broke with a thundering 
 crash on the sands. What a noise they must make on the 
 rocks below the castle, or away in the bay where the shells 
 were! Was it only to-day that Alice and Lina had been 
 planning so gaily the excursions to be taken when mamma 
 came ? It seemed long, long ago. And how strange it 
 was to Alice that anything could have vexed them in that 
 far-oil* happy time, before the thought of illness or death 
 touching mamma had ever entered their minds ! But 
 Lina wondered with a shudder whether God had not been 
 angry with them in their time of gladness, because they 
 had enjoyed it so much and so fearlessly. 
 
 They wandered on the sands up and down, and up and
 
 422 THE SONG OF GOD'S GOODNESS. 
 
 clown, till it was nearly bed-time, then went wearily 
 back to their lodgings, with no appetite for the new milk 
 and ship-biscuits, which were generally so much relished 
 after the evening stroll. When Jessie came to carry away 
 the untouched supper-tray, she suggested that the young 
 ladies should go to bed immediately. But Alice would 
 not hear of such a thing. She raised her weary head from 
 the table, where it had been lying, and fetched her Bible, 
 bade Jessie stay, and took her place at the window as usual. 
 It had been the fashion for Alice to read the evening 
 chapter ever since they came to Bockhaven, for it was 
 done in English for Jessie's benefit. Fraulein was afraid 
 to-night that Alice would break down. The child's voice 
 was hoarse at first, but it got clearer as she went on, and 
 ever steadier and steadier; for it was the 107th Psalm that 
 was the portion for the evening, and it sent a rush of 
 strength straight into her heart. Fraulein felt the power 
 of it too. The grand song of God's goodness, which was 
 almost a new discovery to Alice that night, came to her 
 governess like the cheering voice of an old friend, where 
 the unfamiliar language gave the sound a strange, new 
 sweetness. And Jessie, who was not ordinarily impres- 
 sionable, listened to-night as she did not often listen. She 
 had been shocked into unusual tenderness and solemnity 
 of feeling by the news from Hopefield. But to Lina it all 
 sounded like strange, far-away music, of which she could 
 not catch the tune. It seemed as if she could not bring 
 her tired head and sick heart near enough to listen. So it 
 was the others who had all the comfort of hearing how 
 God knows the right way out of the wilderness, breaks 
 bands of iron in sunder, heals the sick by a word, and — 
 dearest picture of all to those whose thoughts had been so 
 much of the sea of late — makes the storm a calm, and brings
 
 ALL IN THE DARK AND THE COLD. 423 
 
 the tempest-tossed ones safe to the haven where they 
 would be. 
 
 "Your prayers are very short to-night, Lally," said 
 Lina, when her sister got into bed almost immediately 
 after Jessie had left them in their room alone. 
 
 Lina was sitting on the floor in her night-dress. She 
 was half afraid, half unwilling to pray, and she wished to 
 know if it was because Alice shared her feelings that she 
 rose so quickly from her knees. 
 
 " There was no use of making long prayers," said Alice. 
 " I told God all about it in the afternoon. I only asked 
 him to remember it now." 
 
 " And was that all 1 " 
 
 " I thanked him for making David write the 107th 
 Psalm. I do like that about 'going down to the sea in 
 ships.' Oh me ! the waves have been very lifted up with 
 the stormy wind to-night, Lina. "Well, but I've cried to 
 the Lord in my trouble." 
 
 Alice said the last words in a tone that was almost 
 cheery, but it woke no response in Lina's heart. She had 
 not been able to give any heed to the psalm, and its words 
 used by Alice came with little meaning to her mind. She 
 only felt that she was all in the dark and the cold, while 
 it was comparatively light and warm where her sister was ; 
 but that was too far away for Alice to reach out a hand to 
 help her there. She sat still on the floor in the room 
 which had once been so pleasant, and it Beemed like a 
 prison to-night. She remembered the first sweet evening 
 they had gone to bed there. Was it the same sound of 
 the sea which had struck on her ears with such delight 
 then and boomed out so dismally now] Lina had thought 
 then she was to be so good at Rockhaven, and so happy, 
 and leam to love and trust Ood as she had never clone
 
 I 2 1 LIGHT SHINING IN. 
 
 before! And now she had lost all faith in his goodness; 
 she was turning away from him in shuddering fear. 
 
 Alice went to sleep before long, — Lina knew by her 
 breathing ; and she herself grew so tired she longed to 
 creep into bed. But nurse's child had never done so 
 within her memory before without a jDrayer, and she dared 
 not do so now. Lina could say no words of her own 
 to-night; but the Lord's Prayer, at least, she must repeat, 
 to save her from a deadly sin. 
 
 So Lina got on her knees on the carpet, and began in 
 a whisper, " Our Father." Then she started and stopped. 
 The meaning began to dawn in her mind of the words she 
 had repeated so often by rote. The God she had been 
 thinking of as so far off and dreadful was her Father. 
 
 It was only of late that Lina had been learning some- 
 thing of the love of an earthly parent, and every new 
 revelation of his tenderness and patience brought to the 
 heart of his child a pang, because she had once so mis- 
 judged and avoided him. But she was thinking much 
 worse of God to-night than she had ever thought of papa. 
 Yet he was her Father too, with a heart as really gentle, — 
 no, it must be gentler far, for he was altogether good. 
 He never could send his child away from him; was never 
 too busy to think of her. What were those texts about 
 the sparrows falling to the ground 1 
 
 Why, this God she had been fancying so terrible took 
 care of the brown, troublesome, common sparrows; how 
 much niore, then, of Lina Hope, worthless as she was 
 compared to anything else 1 God was her Father, bound 
 by his very nature to take care of her and hers. She was 
 his child, and the very hairs of her head were numbered. 
 
 "My Father!" said Lina, bowing her head in great 
 shame and love and joy. How could she have forgotten
 
 A TELEGRAPH MESSAGE. 425 
 
 all this? — for she had known it before, though she had 
 never felt it so distinctly. 
 
 Then she took the wider pronoun again, taking into her 
 claim for protection father and stepmother, sister, cousins, 
 and governess, and one dear little child who was never far 
 from her mind. And as she repeated the words, Lina's 
 head went further and further down ; and she finished the 
 prayer at last, prostrate on the floor, her brow resting on 
 her two clasped hands. 
 
 Lina was just getting into bed when the door was 
 opened a little, softly as by one who feared to awaken 
 sleepers. " Who is that 1 " she said. " Come in." 
 
 "0 my dear!" said Jessie, appearing then, "there's a 
 telegraph message come. It's not bad news ; we can say 
 that, if we can't say more. It's just that she's still in life, 
 and there will be a letter to tell you more to-morrow."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 GOOD-BYE TO THE SEA. 
 
 T was Alice and Lina's last day at Rockhaven ; six 
 weeks had passed away since they came. There 
 were green slopes to the south of the town, 
 facing the sea ; and here the children went with Fraulein, 
 in the stmshiny afternoon, and sat down to have a long 
 look at the scenes which had become so familiar to them. 
 It seemed almost like half a lifetime since they had left 
 Hopefield, such great experiences of sorrow and of joy had 
 been given to them since then. Yes ; Alice and Lina had 
 not been wrong in their fancy that God had wonderful 
 new lessons to teach them at Rockhaven ; and yet the 
 lessons had been very different from what they had ex- 
 pected. 
 
 For the children had gone through a very weary time. 
 It was hard, hard to get on ; that they had done so at all, 
 they felt they owed to a tenderer love, a greater power 
 than human. A Father's hand had guided them through 
 that great and terrible land they had crossed ; above all the 
 noise of wind and waves on the troubled sea where they 
 had been tossing, there had sounded to the children the 
 voice of the Son of God. 
 
 That first dreadful evening when the bad news came 
 was but the beginning of a dreary period of suspense and 
 anxiety. Days passed before the messages from Hopefield
 
 THE LAST DAY AT THE SEA-SIDE. 427 
 
 contained anything more encouraging than — " Still just in 
 life." That was a happy morning when it changed to — 
 "We fancy, if anything, a little better." But for some 
 time the tidings had been every day more favourable, and 
 at last came the welcome summons for the children to go 
 home again ; mamma was getting well fast now, she sent 
 word, and she wanted her daughters to help her. 
 
 So Alice and Lina had packed and unpacked and re- 
 packed their collection of shells and the text-cards for 
 Nelly; and Alice had been diligently practising a soft and 
 gentle manner of going up and down stairs and shutting 
 doors, till her repeated attempts had become very trying 
 to Friiulein's nerves. Perhaps that was one reason why 
 the good lady had proposed they should go to the Braes 
 that afternoon, and leave Jessie in peace to finish the pack- 
 ing. Alice and Lina had consented willingly enough; they 
 were in too great excitement not to find the time hang 
 heavy on their hands, and Friiulein's proposal that they 
 should take some sketches as memorials of Rockhaven was 
 greeted with delight. So now, while Fraulein sat knitting 
 placidly a few feet above them, the little girls, each with 
 a pencil and paper, were very painstaking for a wliile in 
 trying to depict the scene before their eyes. 
 
 A jutting-out point hid the old town and the harbour 
 from their view ; but beyond that stretched out the new 
 houses of Rockhaven, the smooth pebbly beach, and the 
 blue bay — shut in far away by the great rocks behind 
 which lay the scene of Alice's birthday celebration. The 
 afternoon sunshine was on the sea, and one by one the 
 herring-boats stole round the rock at the harbour-mouth, 
 and went out, like brown-winged birds, skimming the 
 silvery, shimmering water. 
 
 Lina stopped drawing, to watch and count them; anil
 
 428 THE ARTISTS AND THEIR PICTURES. 
 
 when she turned back to her sketch, it was with mingled 
 amusement and disgust. " Lally, I'm making such a 
 mess ! How are you getting on ? " 
 
 "Pretty well," said Alice, drawing away busily, and 
 never looking up. " One hundred and eighty-five boats, 
 you said : didn't you 1 I'm afraid I'm putting them up 
 in the sky now, though. Never mind; it doesn't matter 
 much which is sky and which is sea ; the lines aren't 
 very distinct." 
 
 "Oh, but look !" said Lina, peeping over her shoulder. 
 "Your boats get bigger and bigger the further out they 
 are. That's all wrong." 
 
 " Well, you can imagine yourself looking at them from 
 the other side. Isn't Holland over there, or Germany, or 
 Sweden, or something 1 My sketch can be supposed to be 
 from that side, you know. There ! it's done." 
 
 "Fraulein, do you want to see our sketches?" called 
 Lina up the bank. " We've got sea and sky and sand ; 
 but I'm sure I don't know which is which myself. And 
 these lumps are rocks, and these three-cornered things are 
 herring-boats. Lally, I do think yours is the funniest, 
 after all." 
 
 " I don't know that," said Alice. " Your waves are like 
 the curls we make when we draw little boys' heads; and 
 that rock's like a man's nose ! " 
 
 "Would any one know what they were meant for, Frau- 
 lein 1 ?" asked Lina; and Fraulein, after careful inspection, 
 was obliged to confess that she thought it scarcely pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Then a second view of the pictures struck the artists 
 themselves as so ridiculous, that they went off into fits of 
 laughter over their own performances — Lina sinking back 
 on the grass at last, with one in each hand. Fraulein was
 
 CHILDISH CHATTER. 429 
 
 quite ready to join in the merriment ; it was long since she 
 had heard the children laugh so heartily, and she herself 
 had felt dull enough of late ; but to-day they were all so 
 over-brimming with happiness that they were ready to be 
 amused at anything. A very poor joke was quite suffi- 
 cient to delight them in their present state of mind. 
 
 " You should go on drawing after nature," said Fraulein, 
 " after such a beginning." 
 
 " We'll put them up in our bedroom at home, with a big 
 pin in every four corners," said Lina ; " and when we grow 
 rich we'll have them framed for the sake of Rockhaven. I 
 wonder," she added, letting fall the papers, and speaking in 
 rather a sentimental tone — " I wonder when we'll see all 
 this again 1 ?" 
 
 " Next year, perhaps, when we bring the boy here for 
 sea-bathing. I'll be out in a herring-boat yet, Lina ! 
 Walter won't be frightened at everything, as you are ; he'll 
 be quite glad to go with me." 
 
 "Next year?" asked Lina, going off into fresh peals of 
 laughter. " Baby-boy go out with you in a herring-boat 
 next summer? He won't be able to walk; I believe his 
 head will still be bald; he'll be only a year old !" 
 
 " Oh, he'll grow fast," said Alice, trying hard to keep 
 grave. " It doesn't take long to grow old. In twelve years 
 he'll be older than you are now." 
 
 "And Lina will have doubled her age then, if she is 
 spared," said Fraulein. "Would you wait till the little 
 brother catches you up?" 
 
 "Well, I shouldn't mind doing if.'' Baid Alice. Then 
 hastily correcting herself, she added, — " STes, 1 bould, I 
 should. We don't want a boy like ourselves — Charley 
 does for that. We wouldn't have Waller a bit different 
 from what he is — not a bit, if we could choo
 
 430 ALICE AND THE LETTERS. 
 
 Considering that Alice had never seen the young gentle- 
 man in question, this was perhaps rather a rash statement; 
 but Lina was quite ready to corroborate it. "Oh yes; I 
 like him as he is. It's much nicer that he's a wee baby. I 
 don't like fat, clumsy things like what little Maggie was. 
 And it's better he isn't pretty just now, because pretty 
 babies always turn out ugly afterwards." 
 
 " Of course they do," said Alice. " 1 wonder Aunt 
 Bessie didn't know that, instead of writing that he was 
 small, and not at all beautiful — just as if that were a 
 pity!" 
 
 "It was mamma that sent that message; and I don't 
 think she knows much about children," said Lina. " 1 
 should like now to hear what nurse says about "Walter." 
 
 " I also,'.' said Fraulein, with a little smile. 
 
 " Ah ! but that's just what none of us knows," said 
 Lina, shaking her head rather gravely. " Fancy never 
 knowing that nurse was back at all until Aunt Bessie's 
 second letter came ! "We read it to you ; didn't we, Frau- 
 lein 1 — ' We find your old nurse the greatest comfort pos- 
 sible. I believe that, under God, baby owes his life to her 
 care.' That was exactly what Aunt Bessie said." 
 
 " You know your letters by heart now," said Fraulein, 
 as Alice began to pull out a whole pocketful of precious 
 epistles. 
 
 " I don't quite know the last — Aunt Bessie's last," — said 
 Lina. " And there's something about nurse in that. Give 
 it me here, Alice. Here it is — after the bit about our 
 taking great care of mamma, because she must go home to 
 Connie and Win and the rest — 'Nurse does a great deal; 
 but her time is very much taken up with baby.' That's 
 every word about nurse, except the bit in papa's letter 
 when he says, ' Did Lally remember what she had said to
 
 LOOKING FORWARD. 431 
 
 liim at the train 1 They had been in great need of nurse 
 at Hopefield ; and he begged her to come to them, and she 
 came .' — What Lally said at the train was that nurse would 
 come back to Hopefield if there was ever any use for her. 
 But, of course, Lally wasn't thinking of Walter coming ; 
 for how could any one know 1 But when Walter did come, 
 and mamma took so very ill, then, I suppose, papa thought 
 of what Lally said." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Alice. " I don't believe he did. Of 
 course, nurse was the first person to think of to take care of 
 a little baby and an ill person. Papa would have thought 
 of that himself withovit me. Nurse and Aunt Bessie were 
 the only people to get ; and Aunt Bessie had to be sent to 
 England for, but nurse could be got at Aberinnan. Papa 
 would have been very stupid not to think of it himself." 
 
 " Oh, but I think it was you put it into his head first," 
 said Lina. " Why does he say then in his letter, ' Does 
 Alice remember saying she thought nurse would come back 
 if she ever could be of any use V " 
 
 "Just to remind me, of course," said Alice. " Well, I'll 
 be very glad to see nurse. I hope she'll go on staying — 
 but it's very hard to imagine her." 
 
 " But to-morrow we shall see," said Lina gleefully. 
 "Mamma and papa, and Aunt Bessie, and nurse, and the 
 boy— and Nelly ! Why, Nelly will be like a grown-up 
 lady now, Alice. Walter is five years younger than our 
 little Thing — that does make her seem very old." 
 
 Fraulein meanwhile was listening well-pleased to Alice 
 and Lina's chatter, though of course nothing they said was 
 at all new to her; she had had access to all the children's 
 stores of information from the beginning, and had doubtless 
 come to her own conclusions about the things which had 
 happened at Hopefield.
 
 432 " GOOD-BYE, BROWN SAILS ! " 
 
 The little girls had only newly begun to realize the fact 
 of their little brother's existence ; they had scarcely talked 
 about baby at first — all other thoughts were swallowed up 
 in the terrible one of their stepmother's illness and danger. 
 Even now their talk fell back upon her, and they wondered 
 if she had had a very weary time; and whether it was 
 worse to be ill yourself, or to be away from home and know 
 that some one you loved was lying in sore sickness there. 
 
 After that they sat still for a while, not talking, only 
 gazing, as if they wanted to take away a distinct mental 
 picture of the scene which they had failed to imprint on 
 paper. When at last they rose to go, the herring-boats 
 looked the merest specks on the horizon. " Good-bye, 
 brown sails," said Lina, as she turned away. "I don't 
 know whether I love or hate you. Oh, I remember a clay 
 when there were seventy-two went out that I counted from 
 our window, and that was a day I thought I should never 
 be happy in this world again ! I hated the boats that day ; 
 it seemed wrong they should be going out looking so pretty, 
 — and me so tired and miserable. I forgive them now, 
 though. I don't think I could be angry with any one 
 to-night." 
 
 Alice challenged her to a race down the hill, and off they 
 went, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Fraulein, 
 following more leisurely, rejoined her pupils at the bottom, 
 where she found Lina in the middle of the road dancing to 
 a tune whistled by Alice. Whereupon she mildly suggested 
 that such conduct in such a place was scarcely what was to 
 be expected from two young people who were to undertake 
 the responsibilities of Sunday-school teachers and attendants 
 on the sick on the morrow. 
 
 " Oh that's it ! " said Alice. " We had better get it out 
 to-night, and make as much noise as possible before we get
 
 A TERRIBLE DIN. 433 
 
 home. It's a matter of principle. I've been practising to 
 be quiet, and I see I can do it — but it's rather hard. So 
 to-night I'm going to make as great a row as I can, and get 
 it all over at once, so as to have no noise left in me to dis- 
 turb mamma with." 
 
 Alice certainly carried out her idea with conscientious 
 care that night. She and Lina had jumping matches down 
 the stairs, hopping matches round the parlour table, cricket 
 matches in the passage, with a book for a bat, and 
 Frkulein's wool for a ball. They sang and whistled 
 different tunes at the same time, trying who woidd keep up 
 the longest ; they put the crossed shovel and tongs in the 
 middle of the floor, and danced a war-dance over them. 
 Fniulein bore it all with patience, so glad was she to see 
 the children happy once more; and when Jessie tried to 
 scold, Alice, true to her principles, said it was better her 
 head should be " split with the noise " than mamma's. But 
 it is to be feared that Mrs. Murray, sitting downstairs 
 underneath all this terrible din, could not feel the same 
 regret for the approaching departure of her lodgers, as she 
 had expressed that forenoon, when she was still under the 
 delusion that the Misses Hope were a couple of the quietest 
 young ladies to be found. 
 
 " I think you could have made no more noise if Charley 
 had been here to help," said Friiulein, appearing in the girls' 
 room, when it was nearly ten o'clock. " Alice, what is it 
 now?" 
 
 The two children had just finished an animated pillow- 
 fight, and were now employed in stripping the cases off tho 
 bolst 
 
 " Oh," said Alice, " we're going to get into these and 
 have a sack-race across the floor. Wait and be umpire, 
 Friiulein. " 
 
 28
 
 434 THE PILLOW-FIGIIT. 
 
 " Child, do it not," said Fraulein, in pleading tones. 
 " Nor thee, Lina ! you will tear the good woman's pillow- 
 cases. Come, go to bed now, and be well-behaved." 
 
 " "Well, first see me beat Lina all to sticks in a pillow- 
 fight. I've done it once already. She ran into a corner 
 and howled for mercy." 
 
 " I heard it. That was quite enough. Listen ! — there 
 is ten o'clock ! Do you always sleep with the window 
 open 1 " 
 
 " Yes, certainly ; ever since we came to Rockhaven. We 
 are not like you Germans — we like fresh air," said Alice. 
 " No, no, Fraulein ; you mustn't shut it up. Lina likes it, 
 and she's growing as strong as I am now. Besides, there 
 she goes skulking and sneaking under the bed-clothes, and 
 covering herself up. Take that, Lina ! " and a pillow was 
 aimed at Lina's head ; which it probably would have hit, 
 had Fraulein not stretched forth her hand and stopped it 
 on the way. 
 
 " Throw it here, Fraulein," said Lina. " I'll give it her 
 back again ! " 
 
 " Lina ! " said Fraulein, shocked at this unexpected mani- 
 festation of tomboy ism in her usually gentle pupil, " I 
 thought thou wert a young lady ! " 
 
 " Oh no, Fraulein, not at all," said Lina ; and the next 
 moment her own pillow whizzed past Fraulein on its way 
 to Alice, who was still sitting on the floor. 
 
 "You'll get it now with a vengeance," said Alice 
 solemnly. And Lina, who was an arrant coward at heart, 
 fled shrieking under the bed-clothes. 
 
 " If you will be silent," said Fraulein, " I have some- 
 thing to tell you. I too am going home — to Germany. 
 You are rejoicing to go home after some weeks — I am going 
 after three years' absence."
 
 FRAULEIN GOING HOME. 435 
 
 Alice stared in horror, letting fall the pillow she had 
 ready poised to fling whenever her sister reappeared ; and 
 Lina suddenly brought out a white scared face from under 
 her coverings. 
 
 " Thou wilt forsake us ! " 
 
 The good governess was undoubtedly gratified and 
 touched by the dismay the idea caused to her pupils, but 
 she hastened to explain. " I shall remain in Germany two 
 months, and then return to you. You will have much to 
 do — read with your father — care for your mamma. You 
 have also the Walter, the little brother — " 
 
 " We have enough to do," said Alice, " but we shall miss 
 thee. We must not be nasty, however. I feared thou 
 wouldst never return." 
 
 "I shall return," said Fraulein, smiling; "in October, I 
 hope. My sister goes also just now. I have written to 
 her to ask about the steamers ; we sail from Leith to Ham- 
 burg — then to Berlin, and on to Dresden with the train. 
 That is not the shortest, but the cheapest and the easiest 
 route." 
 
 " And how long is the journey 1 " 
 
 " Five days." 
 
 " Oh, frightfully long ! " 
 
 " But," said Fraulein, with a pleased look shining out of 
 her eyes, and stealing all over her face, " my sister is with 
 me, and I am going home." 
 
 " Yes, certainly," said the children, and remained in 
 silent meditation for some time. 
 
 Once relieved from the honid fear that Fraulein was 
 going to leave them for altogether, their minds began to 
 open to the thought that an entire holiday from schoolroom 
 lessons would doubtless be very pleasant. Time at their 
 own disposal, as they had at Christmas, might be very satis-
 
 43G A "WONDERFUL GLADNESS. 
 
 factorily employed now, when they would have mamma to 
 nurse, baby-brother to play with, and Nelly's long-neglected 
 education to resume. And then, when Fraulein was in the 
 Fatherland, they might be quite at rest about her getting 
 her proper share of enjoyment; they need not blame them- 
 selves for being happy without her, as they sometimes 
 did when she was left in the schoolroom alone. On the 
 contrary, it would be quite a duty on their part not to miss 
 her, or wish her back till she had paid a long visit to 
 her friends. And what a store of news she would bring 
 with her to enliven the daily walks and the schoolroom 
 teas for long after her return to Hopefield ! 
 
 " I rejoice that thou art going," said Lina, using the 
 more familiar and affectionate German pronoun, as Alice 
 had done before. " Thou wilt see Mutter, and Hedwig, 
 and Pastor Peter, and the little Thekla, and the Sistine 
 Madonna — and the bridge, and the Elbe ! And wilt thou 
 go into the Saxon Switzerland 1 — Oh, it is beautiful, very 
 beautiful, that thou art going to Germany ! " 
 
 " When do you go 1 " asked Alice. 
 
 " In the next week, I hope." 
 
 " Oh, beautiful ! Oh, splendid ! " 
 
 They talked a little longer, then Fr'aulein went away, 
 and the children returned to English speech. But they 
 did not say much to each other. Once more they lay down 
 in their white beds with the sound of the sea in their ears, 
 and their hearts were stilled into a deep and wonderful 
 gladness. Such a time had come to them as comes some- 
 times on the eve of a great and expected change, — a time 
 when we gather up our whole lives, to look at them with 
 wonder and with gratitude, and some glimmerings of under- 
 standing of the ways of God. The Lord had been leading 
 Alice and Lina apart with him into a desert place for a
 
 LOOKING BACK. 437 
 
 while, but only to bring them back again to a fuller, 
 brighter life of human love than had ever been theirs be- 
 fore. And even Lina, looking forward to the great joys 
 awaiting her on the morrow, was not afraid to be glad ; 
 for was not the great God her Father, who had led her all 
 along the dark and difficult road that was ended now 1 
 And would not he himself rejoice over his child, as she stood 
 in the large and wealthy place where he had set her feet 1 
 
 Then the children turned, and looked further back than 
 the weeks they had spent at Rockhaven. They cast their 
 eyes over the winter-time, and the autumn, to the far, 
 far-off last summer before they found Nelly. 
 
 In these days papa had been a strange, unknown being, 
 and mamma but a chance visitor; while they regained 
 Friiulein as a tiresome machine for inflicting lessons, and 
 were working themselves up to believe that they really 
 hated nurse. Then their minds had been full of vague as- 
 pirations and longings. They had taken eager fits of prayer 
 and Bible-reading, alternating with utter carelessness and 
 outbursts of riotous naughtiness. But through it all there 
 had been growing gradually — perhaps in answer to their 
 mother's prayers — the desire to live for Christ, and the con- 
 viction in these childish hearts that nothing else was worth 
 living for. Then God sent little Nelly, like an angel, to 
 open the vineyard door for them. The chili hen who had 
 been so idle had gone in, and the Lord had prospered their 
 work; nay more, he had come himself to them while they 
 were busy : they had seen his face and heard his voice. 
 
 Alice and Lina lay and thought of it all, feeling more 
 than understanding; and every now and then exchanging 
 their ideas in words that were generally too broken to be 
 intelligible to any but themselves. 
 
 What a change these ten months had made in their
 
 438 LEAVING CHILDHOOD BEHIND. 
 
 lives ! Their hands were now as full of work as they could 
 hold, and yet they were the same Alice and Lina who had 
 once made a bitter outcry that there was no use for them 
 in all the world ! There was not only Nelly herself to be 
 thought of; out of their l-elations to her had grown others 
 — Lina's friendship with Hugh, the interest in study which 
 had bridged over the gulf between the children and their 
 father, the watching over Helen Russell in her last illness, 
 which had done so much to help Alice in gentleness and 
 self-control, to be exercised now for her stepmother's sake. 
 
 " I am wondering," said Alice, lying with her two arms 
 behind her head on the pillow — " I'm really wondering — 
 do we teach Nelly things, or does she teach us 1 " 
 
 " I don't know," said Lina. " We've learned to know 
 some things better, I think — don't you remember saying so 
 once 1 ? — since we got Nelly." 
 
 " We've learned to know the Lord Jesus Christ better," 
 said Alice in her blunt way. " I suppose that's the prin- 
 cipal thing to learn." 
 
 " He is very good," said Lina softly. And then for a 
 long time the room was very still, and nothing was heard 
 but the murmur and ripple of the summer sea outside. 
 
 Do you envy these children, who were just leaving child- 
 hood behind them and stepping out into the great toil and 
 bustle of life 1 I almost think I do ; for theirs was the 
 blessedness of those who have chosen the good part early, 
 who have given their youth' to Jesus Christ's service, spend- 
 ing all their ardour and fresh-heartedness on the business 
 of the King of kings. To such, I know, earth's burdens 
 are the lightest, God's woi-k comes the easiest ; and for such, 
 I almost think, rest and home-coming will be the sweetest, 
 when the good and faithful servants enter into the joy of 
 their Lord.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME. 
 
 [LICE and Lina had been in delight and excitement 
 when they left Hopefield six weeks ago, but their 
 joy then was but a poor thing compai-ed to what 
 they felt on their return. They were sure that the home- 
 country, in its midsummer beauty, was the loveliest spot 
 on earth. And tame as the scenery about it might have 
 seemed to critical eyes, Aberinnan cei'tainly looked sweet 
 that afternoon, when the green of its woods and meadows 
 had been all freshened by early morning showers. The 
 children drove home from the station along the Innanside — 
 the prettier of the two roads to Hopefield ; but any road would 
 have been pretty in that time of clear shining after rain. 
 
 Alice and Lina were in a state of ecstasy that took them 
 far beyond words ; indeed, they both found they had enough 
 to do in keeping back then- tears. Long, long did the three 
 miles from Aberinnan to Hopefield seem to them — almost 
 the longest portion of all the journey. Even after they 
 passed the East Lodge there was still the avenue- and 
 that seemed interminable. Yet when the house appeared 
 in sight, Lina in her excitement grew frightened, and 
 wished it were not so near. She grasped hold of Alice's 
 hand nervously; but Alice did not wi.sh to have ber hand 
 grasped, she wished to be ready to leap out the moment the 
 carriage stopped.
 
 440 AT HOPEFIELD AGAIN. 
 
 Mrs. Ashley was waiting at the door to receive them; 
 and (oh, wonderful sight !) Mr. Hope, too, was there, and 
 came down the steps to the carriage. Alice gave a hasty 
 embrace to both (she reflected afterwards, with some as- 
 tonishment and shame, that she must have given papa a hug 
 and a squeeze, but Lina was able to assure her that he had 
 not seemed at all angry at her boldness). Mrs. Ashley had 
 a motherly welcome for both the children — for rough Alice 
 coming tearing up the steps and flinging herself upon her; 
 and for shy Lina, who was all trembling and white, and 
 scarcely able to keep from crying. But the little girls' 
 first words were neither for their father nor Aunt Bessie. 
 
 " Mamma — can we see her 1 Is she able 1 And where 
 is nurse 1 Oh ! and do let us see Walter. Let us see the 
 boy!" 
 
 Mrs. Ashley looked at Mr. Hope. " Perhaps they had 
 better ease their hearts by seeing Lottie first. I think she 
 would like it herself, too." 
 
 Alice and Lina did not give their father time to suggest 
 that they had better wait till they were refreshed and 
 calmed after their journey. They flew upstairs two steps 
 at a time, and Mrs. Ashley, following, thought she had but 
 little chance of catching them up; but when she arrived 
 at the top she found the two seated on the highest step, 
 unbuttoning their boots. 
 
 " We'll go quieter on our stocking-feet," said Lina, in a 
 stage-whisper. 
 
 Very quietly they proceeded on their way, and with 
 bated breath and cautious footsteps entered Mrs. Hope's 
 room. The spacious chamber was a wonder of luxury 
 compared to the apartments in Mrs. Murray's house, but 
 the children had eyes for nothing but their stepmother on 
 the sofa. They were beside her in a moment, holding her
 
 THE MEETING WITH MAMMA. 441 
 
 hands and kissing them, and rubbing their cheeks against 
 hers. Mrs. Hope returned their caresses, and tried to 
 moderate them, herself in a state that was more than half- 
 crying, — " my children, xS it really you 1 My darlings, 
 I have wanted you so ! I thought I should never see you 
 again." 
 
 Was it their mamma who made this admission, with a 
 quiver in the voice that used always to sound so gay? 
 Was it she who was looking at them with eyes that seemed 
 strangely large and deep in the paleness of her face 1 Mrs. 
 Hope was thin and fragile — all her beautiful hair was 
 pushed carelessly back, and gathered in easy looseness be- 
 hind her head — the white of her dressing-gown was scarcely 
 more colourless than her cheeks. 
 
 As she clung about the children in her outburst of almost 
 frightened affection, some idea dawned on Alice and Lina 
 of what the past dreadful weeks had been to her. Mrs. 
 Hope had just come back from a place where the love and 
 admiration of her fellow-creatures were as powerless to aid 
 her as were her own bright spirit and general knack of 
 succeeding in life. To her, no less than to the children, 
 this time of trial had been a very solemn one — a coming, 
 all alone, face to face with God. 
 
 " We were always thinking of you — we were praying 
 for you — God is very good — he has answered our prayers 
 — he has made you better," said the children in hroken 
 sentences. 
 
 Mrs. Hope kissed them again with a grave and wistful 
 tenderness, that was so unlike her usual self, that both 
 were deeply moved, and Ldna gave way entirely. Kneel- 
 ing by the sofa, she hid her face and burst into sobs and 
 tears; and it was while. Mis. Hope, rather startled, was 
 trying to soothe her, and Alice was endeavouring to steady
 
 442 THE HEIR OF HOPEFIELD. 
 
 her own voice to scold her sister, that the door opened and 
 nurse appeai-ed. Lina's head was down, but Alice could 
 see the well-known stern displeasure gathering on nurse's 
 brow as she took in the group at the sofa; and for the time 
 being the little girl had not a thought to spare for the mys- 
 terious bundle the old woman was carrying in her arms. 
 Alice stood ready to avert the wrath, that ^as to be poured 
 on her stepmother's head. One moment, and the storm 
 broke, — but not where she had expected. 
 
 " Stop that this minute, Carolyne," said nurse, " or go 
 outside the door! There's to be no crying here, mind." 
 Then with a softening of tone she added, addressing Mrs. 
 Hope, — " Just ye never heed they silly bairns, my dear. 
 If they canna behave, they maun just go." 
 
 Astonished and abashed, the children, who had meant to 
 guard their stepmother from all harm, and especially from 
 nurse's ill-usage, found themselves in the position of cul- 
 prits under the old woman's merited displeasure for exciting 
 her patient. And it was Mrs. Hope who was the favoured 
 person who interposed to make peace for them. " Oh no, 
 nurse; don't send them away. Let them see baby here." 
 
 Alice and Lina rose meekly and kissed nurse's cheek, 
 and the offended dignitary condescended to be pacified, and 
 to exhibit the precious thing she held. Very proudly she 
 unrolled and displayed the little red and wrinkled creature, 
 and the sisters gazed in admiration that was as great as she 
 could wish. To Lina, indeed, the brother whom she had 
 been talking of so proudly changed his place a good deal, 
 but baby was not a whit less dear because she realized for 
 the first time how young and helpless he was. And Alice 
 —to her the real heir of Hopefield seemed quite worthy of 
 all his names and titles which she had always been so care- 
 ful to give him.
 
 AN EVER-INCREASING MARVEL. 1 C) 
 
 " Walter !" she said, addressing the tiny morsel of 
 humanity" with great solemnity — " Walter Edward Hope ! 
 Come to your sister, boy." 
 
 " There — sit down, then," said nurse. " Hold out your 
 arms now — that way. — Eh, d'ye know Alice, my bonnie 
 wee man?" 
 
 Alice gave a great gasp of delight as she got hold of the 
 baby; and Lina, bending over her, kissed the infant's brow, 
 feeling almost afraid of harming the fragile thing by her 
 touch. 
 
 " He has scarcely ever been out of nurse's arms day or 
 night, I believe," said Mrs. Hope. 
 
 " Not into yours 1 " 
 
 " No. I'm not allowed to nurse baby ; I only look at 
 him." 
 
 " nurse ! why don't you let his mother have him 
 sometimes ? " 
 
 " Bide a wee till she's stronger," said nurse, who seemed 
 in great good-humour now as she contemplated Alice in a 
 low chair with the baby on her lap, and Lina kneeling 
 beside her. She even appealed to her young mistress to 
 say whether Miss Hope did not look well with the child 
 in her arms, and if she had ever seen Miss Lina so rosy. 
 The gentleness of nm'se's ways with their stepmother was 
 an ever-increasing marvel to the girls, who were unable 
 yet to understand how dependence on her care, and obliga- 
 tions to her kindness, were the surest keys to unlock the 
 gate of the old woman's affections. For the present, Alice 
 and Lina could only rejoice in the fad as a thing beyond 
 1 1 a ir comprehension. Nurse used her power mercifully; 
 and about her power being great, there could be no manner 
 of doubt. When she thought Mrs. Hope's head was too 
 high, she took away a pillow as a matter ut' OOUrse, and
 
 444 NURSE, AND HER USEFULNESS. 
 
 ^he pulled the eider-clown quilt up about her, and promised 
 her tea soon, — managing her mistress as completely and as 
 kindly as she used to manage Alice and Lina during their 
 childish ailments. Only once did nurse show a slight 
 touch of her old jealousy. 
 
 Lina had got the baby next, anxious to feel the darling 
 in her arms, and yet nervously fearful of the safety of her 
 bold. " You pet ! are you like mamma, I wonder 1 " said 
 she, as she peered into the queer little face. 
 
 " No, no ; he's a real Hope — every bit," said nurse then 
 hastily, and took him away. 
 
 " I don't think he's like anybody yet," said the baby's 
 mother, smiling. 
 
 Then little Walter, perhaps having some consciousness 
 of the unskilfulness of the hands that had been holding 
 hirn, set up a piteous wail ; and the little girls could not 
 but admire the tender way in which nurse rocked and 
 stilled him in her arms. 
 
 " You will stay always and take care of Boy 1 " said 
 Alice. 
 
 " Ay, there's no more word of the grand nurse Miss 
 Harvey was to send from Lunnun," said nurse a little 
 scornfully. " The master'll not have her, nor the mistress 
 either, so old nurse maun just bide where she is." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; whatever should we do without you 1 " 
 said Mrs. Hope. 
 
 " Weel, weel ; ye might ha' got them that knew less 
 aboot bairns, I dare say," said nurse, toying to hide her 
 satisfaction at this acknowledgment of her usefulness, but 
 not succeeding very well. 
 
 Mi's. Hope was looking bright and smiling again ; and 
 when her husband came in, he delighted the children 
 greatly, and quite healed the smart nurse's words had left,
 
 ABSOLUTE SOVEREIGN OF THE NURSERY. 445 
 
 by saying she was better already of the girls' home-coming. 
 Nevertheless Alice and Lina followed nurse when she 
 carried baby away ; and finding Mrs. Ashley in the nur- 
 sery, they confided the precious infant to her, and all three 
 went off together to the girls' room. Here nurse brushed 
 her darlings' hair, and heard their news of Rockhaven, 
 exulting over them inwardly the while, and ever and again 
 interrupting the conversation to make some admiring re- 
 mark about their growth or healthy appearance. Nor was 
 nurse herself without her news to tell, — chiefly of baby, 
 who was every bit as wonderful a child in her experienced 
 eyes as in the ignorant ones of his sisters. And, in truth, 
 among all her nurslings, she looked on little "Walter with 
 especial pride. The others had done her credit ; but they 
 were healthy by nature, while this little sickly babe was 
 actually being tended into life by her care. All nurse's 
 desires of empire seemed to be bounded now by the nursery 
 — there she was absolute sovereign ; in the rest of the 
 house, let them reign who chose. She was actually in- 
 dignant with Alice and Lina for asking her some question 
 about tea. How should she know whether it was to be in 
 the dining-room or the schoolroom 1 
 " Do you not house-keep now, nurse 1 " 
 " Not me! The baim's one woman's wark — and plenty." 
 Fraulein was in the schoolroom when the children went 
 downstairs. A dinner-tea was awaiting them; and Toodle- 
 kins, evidently pleased to see the old inhabitants back 
 again, sat purring on the window-sill. She knew Alice 
 and Lina quite well, and received them with a certain 
 placid content, which was yet a great deal more demon- 
 strative than that with which she had trreeted their eover 
 ness. When she leaped into Alice's lap and curled herself 
 up snugly, the rule which forbade her sitting there at
 
 44G TEA IN THE SCHOOLROOM. 
 
 meal-times was for once relaxed, Fraulein thinking it well 
 to appear as if she did not see her. And, indeed, Fraulein 
 had quite enough to do in judiciously answering questions 
 about baby (she had seen him in Mrs. Ashley's arms) ; for 
 Alice would scarcely be content till her governess had 
 agreed with her in pronouncing the Boy a glorious fellow. 
 Fraulein was not particularly fond of babies, and certainly 
 did not think the small "Walter a favourable specimen of 
 his class, so she found it difficult, truthfully, to give praise 
 enough to please the adoring sisters. She thought she had 
 made a happy hit when she said baby might very possibly 
 turn into a handsome boy yet; but she was very much 
 relieved when the entrance of Mrs. Ashley drew the 
 children's attention away from her. 
 
 Aunt Bessie's coming was hailed with rejoicing, and 
 Lina made haste to set a chair at the table for her, while 
 Alice rushed off for a cup and saucer. 
 
 " Do you know," said Lina, when they were settled 
 down again, " I think I must be very sorry you're going 
 away to-morrow, Aunt Bessie; but I'm so happy, I can't 
 feel it." 
 
 " Yes," said Alice, " we'll have mamma all to ourselves. 
 If Aunt Bessie stayed, there would be nothing left for us 
 to do." 
 
 It must be confessed that these speeches sounded rather 
 rude ; but then Alice and Lina certainly did not mean any 
 such thing. Nor was Mrs. Ashley offended ; on the con- 
 trary, she smiled affectionately at the little girls, as if she 
 highly approved of their sentiments. 
 
 " Then, you know," said Lina, " it seems a pity to keep 
 you here when so many people are needing you at home. 
 Have Constance and Winnie had no lessons all this time 1 
 A.nd aren't you wanting to see the Little boys and Dr.
 
 THE CUP OF JOY FULL. 447 
 
 Ashley? Aunt Bessie, you must come again soon and 
 bring them all I " 
 
 " Yes, do ! " said Alice. " Come again soon. But we 
 shall be very happy without you for a little while, and 
 we'll take good care of mamma." 
 
 "Yes, I think you will," said Mrs. Ashley warmly. 
 " She has been talking of you and wishing for you so much 
 since she began to get better." 
 
 " Oh, we would have come home sooner if we could," said 
 Alice, and Lina began to feel the tears starting again. 
 Then Mrs. Ashley, seeing how matters were, made haste to 
 change the conversation, by telling them that she expected 
 visitors after she went home. 
 
 " Hugh and Charley are coming to me next week, to stay 
 for a few days on their way north." 
 
 The girls were rather startled at first ; they had somehow 
 not realized that the holidays were so near. But the 
 thought that, if mamma kept better, their cousins would be 
 at Hopefield in little more than a fortnight's time seemed 
 to put the finishing touch to their bliss. Fancy Hugh once 
 more on the schoolroom sofa, with his books all about 
 him ! Fancy a game of hide-and-seek again with Charley ! 
 They were so eager to tell Aunt Bessie about Hugh's last 
 letter, and so anxious to hear how the boys would probably 
 spend their time at Mrs. Ashley's, that she was rather as- 
 tonished when presently both little girls jumped up and 
 ran away, breaking orf the conversation in the very midst. 
 
 "You are going out just now?" said Friiulein, in a tone 
 of surprise that had a touch of reproach in it, as Alice and 
 Lina returned with their garden-h;it<. 
 
 But the eager explanation came immediately. " Oh 
 but we'll not be long. You'll talk to Aunt Bessie till we 
 come back, and tell mamma where we arc if she asks for
 
 448 NELLY AND HER TEACHERS. 
 
 us. We must go to see our Nelly." And suiting the 
 action to the words, they pushed the west window open 
 wide as they spoke, and leaped easily out on the green turf 
 below. 
 
 It was not without some trembling at heart that the 
 little teachers took their way along the avenue in the 
 sweet, still summer evening. What if Nelly, less faithful 
 than Toodlekins, should have forgotten them altogether 1 ? 
 Or, even though she did keep some remembrance of the Miss 
 Hopes, might not long separation have made the little 
 Thing quite indifferent to their home-coming 1 For nearly 
 seven long weeks had passed since Nelly had seen her 
 teachers' faces. 
 
 Alice and Lina did not express these thoughts to each 
 other, but they were distinct in both their minds as they 
 turned the corner of the road that brought the Lodge into 
 view. There was Nelly before the door, sitting on the 
 gravel at play, her back turned to her teachers. Alice 
 raised her voice and called her little scholar's name. 
 
 Nelly looked round immediately, then started to her feet 
 with a loud scream of joy. Off she ran to meet the Hopes, 
 seizins one with each hand when she reached them, and 
 holding fast, as if she meant never to let them go again. 
 She was too much out of breath to speak at first, but stood 
 thus for a minute, seeming scarcely to heed the caressing 
 words Alice and Lina were showering upon her. When 
 she found voice, it was only to say, with more than all 
 her old gladness and determination of tone, — 
 
 " I'm coming to see you — next Sabbath ! "
 
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