with envy. She would so love to write
poetry herself, but next best to that was having a sister who could do
it. She only wished that Milly would let her see something that she had
written. She could then assure her cousin, Peggy Reid, with absolute
knowledge of facts, that her sister was a poetess. Now she could only
darkly hint upon the subject, and it was not altogether satisfactory,
for she felt confident that Peggy did not believe her.

But at present the fair was the all-absorbing topic, and Joanna returned
to the charge. "We shall have to send something, Milly, for Mrs. Pearson
said she depended upon us, and it is for such a good object she said she
knew we would help her all we could. It is to furnish the new chapel,
you know: to get a lee--lack--luck--something for them to read the Bible
on. What is it, Milly?"

"A 'lectern,' I suppose you mean."

"Yes, that's it--'lectern'; and a big Bible to put on it, and lots of
Prayer-books and Hymnals to stick around the church, and some vases for
flowers, and a brass cross and foot-stools, and lots of other things
they need. Mrs. Pearson said we must try to send as many fancy articles
as we could to the fair, and try to sell some tickets."

"I have no time to make anything, and besides I don't do any
fancy-work," said Millicent; "and if you don't mind, Joan, I wish you
would go. I am very busy just now."

"You don't look a bit busy. What are you doing? Nothing but biting a
pencil. I wish you would tell me what you were doing when I came in,
Mill."

"If you only would not call me 'Mill' or 'Milly'! I simply detest it. As
long as I have a good name, I do wish I could be called by it."

"I promise and vow I will always call you Millicent, full length, if you
will only tell me what you were doing when I came in."

"I can't, Joan. Do go away. It was--nothing of any importance."

"Oh, Milly--I mean Millicent--please, _please_ tell me! I do so want to
know, and I am only your own little sister, who never did you any harm,
and who wants to know so much. Won't you tell me?"

Joanna had slipped down on the floor by her sister's side. One arm she
threw across Millicent, the other went under the sofa pillow. In a
moment the morocco blank-book was in her hand. She clutched it tightly.
If she only dared draw it out, run away with it, and read it! Peggy
would have done it without any hesitation whatever, but then Joanna was
not Peggy.

Millicent looked at her pensively. S