nfant's
mental capacities, and concluded comfortably, "I'm glad Alice (or Jane
or Matilda or Anabel) isn't clever like that. They overwork when they
are young, and then when they grow up--"

Meanwhile Mary led her private life. She attached herself to no one
but Jeremy; she was delicate and suffered from perpetual colds; she
therefore spent much of her time in the nursery reading, her huge
spectacles close to the page, her thin legs like black sticks stuck
up on the fender in front of the fire or curled up under her on the
window-seat.

Very different was Helen. Helen had a mass of dark black hair, big black
eyes with thick eye-lashes, a thin white neck, little feet, and already
an eye to "effects" in dress. She was charming to strangers, to the
queer curates who haunted the family hall, to poor people and rich
people, to old people and young people. She was warm-hearted but not
impulsive, intelligent but not clever, sympathetic but not sentimental,
impatient but never uncontrolled. She liked almost everyone and almost
everything, but no one and nothing mattered to her very deeply; she
liked going to church, always learnt her Collect first on Sunday, and
gave half her pocket-money to the morning collection. She was generous
but never extravagant, enjoyed food but was not greedy. She was quite
aware that she was pretty and might one day be beautiful, and she was
glad of that, but she was never silly about her looks.

When Aunt Amy, who was always silly about everything, said in her
presence to visitors, "Isn't Helen the loveliest thing you ever saw?"
she managed by her shy self-confidence to suggest that she was pretty,
that Aunt Amy was a fool, and life was altogether very agreeable, but
that none of these things was of any great importance. She was very good
friends with Jeremy, but she played no part in his life at all. At
the same time she often fought with him, simply from her real deep
consciousness of her superiority to him. She valued her authority
and asserted it incessantly. That authority had until last year been
unchallenged, but Jeremy now was growing. She had, although she did not
as yet realise it, a difficult time before her.

Helen and Mary advanced with their presents, laid them on the
breakfast-table, and then retreated to watch the effect of it all.

"Shall I now?" asked Jeremy.

"Yes, now," said Helen and Mary.

There were three parcels, one large and "shoppy," two small and bound
with famil