s later with a duster in her hand. She had always
thought she hated dusting, but after all there was, she decided, as she
nearly completed her task, some pleasure in it. It was nice to see things
grow clean and bright under her hand, and it was such a relief to have the
work done, instead of waiting and waiting for someone else to do it,
waiting vainly, too, as a rule! And when, a little later, Mrs. Vivian was
shown into the room, Audrey felt an even greater pleasure in knowing that
all was neat and spotless for her to see.

The relief and the satisfaction brought a glow to her face, and warmth to
her manner, such as she seldom showed. For almost the first time in her
life she escaped the irritation of seeing them left undone by others, and
knew the pleasure of doing things for oneself. As she softly left the
room she felt happier than she had all day. Irene, in her nest of
blankets, looked up at her mother with eyes full of remorse, mingled with
pleasure.

"Poor child! are you in great pain?" Mrs. Vivian leaned down over her
daughter and kissed her. She was so agitated she could scarcely speak.
Irene drew her left arm out from the blankets, and threw it round her
mother's neck.

"Oh, mother, mother, I deserve it all! I deserve ever so much more.
I--I ought to be whipped and kept on bread-and-water."

A ghost of a smile flickered over Mrs. Vivian's white face. "We will
forgive you this time, but oh, Irene, when I saw Peter being led in
riderless I--I----"

Irene drew her mother down to her again. "Mother darling, it shall be a
lesson to me. I will never, never go against your wishes again.
When I woke up--I think I must have fainted--and knew where I was, and all
that had happened, and when I realised that God had spared my life instead
of punishing me--oh, mother, I promised Him that I would dedicate the rest
of it to Him, and to you."

With a low cry of deep joy Mrs. Vivian clasped her little daughter in her
arms, her emotion too great for words. And so they remained, heart to
heart, cheek to cheek, talking in soft, low tones, talk too sacred and
precious for other ears to hear, until at last they were brought back to
everyday things by a gentle knock at the door.

"May we come in?" asked Audrey, opening it a little way. "We have brought
you some tea, Mrs. Vivian. We thought you might be tired."

"Oh, how kind!" Mrs. Vivian looked up at her gratefully. "I feel as
though I should enjoy a cup of