lie Pope, who had been coaxed by a friend into coming
for the first time. "If being good makes you as sharp and sour as she
is--well, I don't want to be good."

Audrey had not heard the remarks that were made, but she felt that she had
been a failure, and her heart was heavy. She was vexed and sorry, and
annoyed with herself and everything, for she knew that she had not done
her best, that she had failed in her duty. And she knew as well as though
they had told her that the children had not liked her.

Oh, it had been a failure, that May Sunday. The birds had sung their
blithest, the hedges were white with hawthorn, the air sweet with the
scent of flowers, the sun had shone all day--and yet it had been a grey
Sunday, begun badly, continued badly, ending badly--because the right
spirit was lacking.

"Would you like me to read to you now, mother?" she asked again,
but doubtfully. Something told her that the time was past, that the sweet
calm pleasure was not to be caught now. And before Mrs. Carlyle could
answer her, footsteps sounded in the garden, and Faith, followed by Debby
and Tom, came rushing up the stairs.

"Oh, we have had such a lovely time," but Faith catching sight of her
mother's wan face, stopped abruptly. "Aren't you feeling so well, mummy?
--are you faint? Have you had anything since we have been gone?"

Audrey sprang up with a cry of dismay and flew from the room. "It is too
late now, dear," said the invalid feebly, but Audrey did not hear her.

"It is too late now," called Faith, rushing after her. "I will make her
some Benger----" Their footsteps and voices died away.

"Oh, what a pity!" sighed Deborah, "we've got such a lot to tell, and we
wanted you to be well enough to listen, mother."

"We've had quite an advencher," cried Tom, his eyes wide with excitement,
"and father asked them to supper----"

"But you mustn't tell," interrupted Debby reprovingly, "not till Faith
comes. It wouldn't be fair--and Audrey too, 'cause it's Audrey that knows
them."

Mrs. Carlyle beckoned Debby to her side. "Run down, darling, and tell
Faith not to make me any Benger, it takes so long, and I don't want her to
stay now. I will have some jelly instead, and a slice of bread. Tell her
to come quickly, and Audrey too. I am longing to hear about your
'advencher.'"

Mrs. Carlyle kissed her little daughter very tenderly. She loved to have
them come to her with all their little joys and woes. It was