guardian.

Nettie made no reply, but carried off her children to the cottage door,
turned them peremptorily in, and issued her last orders. "If you make a
noise, you shall not go," said Nettie; and then came back alert, with
her rapid fairy steps, to Miss Wodehouse's side.

"Does not their mother take any charge of them?" faltered the gentle
inquisitor. "I never can understand you young people, Nettie. Things
were different in my days. Do you think it's quite the best thing to do
other people's duties for them, dear? and now I'm so sorry--oh, so
sorry--to hear what you are going to do now."

"Susan is delicate," said Nettie. "She never had any health to speak
of--I mean, she always got better, you know, but never had any pleasure in
it. There must be a great deal in that," continued Nettie, reflectively;
"it never comes into my head to think whether I am ill or well; but poor
Susan has always had to be thinking of it. Yes, I shall have to take
them away," she added again, after a pause. "I am sorry, very sorry too,
Miss Wodehouse. I did not think at one time that I had the heart to do
it. But on the whole, you know, it seems so much better for them. Susan
will be stronger out there, and I have not money enough to give the
children a very good education. They will just have to push their way
like the others; and in the colony, you know, things are so different.
I have no doubt in my own mind now that it will be best for them all."

"But, Nettie, Nettie, what of yourself? will it be best for you?" cried
Miss Wodehouse, looking earnestly in her face.

"What is best for them will be best for me," said Nettie, with a little
impatient movement of her head. She said so with unfaltering spirit and
promptitude. She had come to be impatient of the dreary maze in which
she was involved. "If one must break one's heart, it is best to do it at
once and have done with it," said Nettie, under her breath.

"What was that you said about your heart?" said Miss Wodehouse. "Ah, my
dear, that is what I wanted to speak of. You are going to be married,
Nettie, and I wanted to suggest to you, if you won't be angry. Don't you
think you could make some arrangement about your sister and her family,
dear?--not to say a word against the Australian gentleman, Nettie, whom,
of course, I don't know. A man may be the best of husbands, and yet not
be able to put up with a whole family. I have no doubt the children are
very nice clever children, but