's not worth caring for," she whispered.
"She's full of her fun, don't you see? and doesn't mean any harm. Come,
let us go up to the work-room and have a good talk."

Lulu yielded in silence, struggling hard to be mistress of herself.

Evelyn tried to help her. "Oh, Lulu, is it not delightful that we are to
go so soon to that lovely Viamede?" she asked as the work-room door
closed behind them.

"Yes; if only one could leave temper and tormenting people behind!"
sighed Lulu. "Oh, Eva, Rosie is _so_ tormenting! I'd be glad to be
friends with her, but she won't let me."

"It is trying," Evelyn admitted. "But you know, Lu," she went on, "that
we must expect troubles and trials in this world; that they are sent or
permitted for our good; for strength grows by exercise, and if there is
nothing to try our patience, how can it grow?"

"I have none to begin with," said Lulu.

"Oh, that's a mistake," said Evelyn; "you have great patience with your
work yonder, and deserve a great deal of credit for it. I do think you
have much more of that kind of patience than Rosie has. But let us talk
of something else."

They talked of Viamede, each telling the other what she had heard of its
beauties; of Magnolia Hall, too; of Molly, Isa, and the other relatives
of the Dinsmores who were living in that region of country.

It so happened that Rosie's mother, passing through the hall below at the
moment, overheard her mocking words to Lulu.

"Rosie," she called, and the little girl perceived a grieved tone in the
sweet voice, "come here, daughter."

"Yes, mamma, dear, what is it?" Rosie asked lightly, descending the
stair.

"Come into my dressing-room; I want to talk to you." Then, when they were
seated, "What was that I overheard you saying to Lulu just now?"

Rosie repeated her words in a careless tone.

"I desire an explanation," her mother said gently, but very gravely.
"What was the debt, and who owes it?"

"I, mamma, if anybody. Lulu had just said that I owed her an apology; and
I had answered that if so, I was quite able to owe it."

"What had you done or said that she should think herself entitled to an
apology?"

Rosie replied with a truthful account of the scene of the day before in
the boy's work-room, excusing her part of it by an allusion to "Lulu's
fearful temper."

"Are you quite sure, Rosie, that when you rouse it by exasperating
remarks you do not share the sin?" asked her mother with a grieved,
troubled