gged her shoulders. "My dear Isabel," she said, "I do
not see what William has to do with it. I am my own mistress, and surely
old enough to judge for myself."

The two little girls sprang to meet their father, and dragged him by the
hands up to the tea-table.

"William," said Mrs. Enderby, "I want you to remonstrate with Amy."

"It seems to me I am always remonstrating with Amy," said Mr. Enderby
smiling; "what wickedness is she meditating now?"

Mrs. Rushton laughed gaily, dipped a fine strawberry into cream and ate
it. Her laugh was pleasant, and she had a general air of good humour and
self-complacency about her which some people mistook for exceeding
amiability.

"Isabel thinks I am going to destruction altogether," said she,
preparing another strawberry for its bath of cream; "only because I am
thinking of going abroad with Lady Harriet Beaton. Surely I have a right
to arrange my own movements and to select my own friends."

Mr. Enderby looked very grave. "No one can deny your right to do as you
please," he said; "but I hope that on reflection you will not please to
go abroad with Lady Harriet Beaton."

"Why!"

"Surely you know she is not a desirable companion for you, Amy. I hope
you have not actually promised to accompany her."

"Well, I think I have, almost. She is very gay and charming, and I
cannot think why you should object to her. If I were a young girl of
sixteen, instead of a widow with long experience, you could not make
more fuss about the matter."

"As your brother I am bound to object to such a scheme," said Mr.
Enderby.

Mrs. Rushton pouted. "It is all very well for you and Isabel to talk,"
she said, "you have each other and your children to interest you. If I
had children--had only one child, I should not care for running about
the world or making a companion of Lady Harriet."

Mrs. Enderby looked at her sister-in-law sympathetically; but Mr.
Enderby only smiled.

"My dear Amy," he said, "you know very well that if you had children
they would be the most neglected little mortals on the face of the
earth. Ever since I have known you, a good many years now, I have seen
you fluttering about after one whim or another, and never found you
contented with anything long. If Phyllis and Nell here were your
daughters instead of Isabel's, they would be away at school somewhere,
whilst their mother would be taking her turn upon all the
merry-go-rounds of the world."

"Thank you, you are very