ll not?" he asked.

"Seriously, Mr. Arlington, I do not intend to sing in the choir
to-morrow."

"That is your final decision?"

"Yes."

He sat beating his foot impatiently on the ground.

"Is there no one else? Everard" asked Rose.

"No one!" he answered, in a very decided tone.

He tossed the music idly in his hand, though his brow contracted, and
the veins in his forehead swelled like cords. They were very quiet;
no one spoke. Emily enjoyed this little scene immensely, but Grace was
highly disgusted that her brother should deign to urge a request which
had already been denied, and that, too, by the governess; while Isabel
sat, thinking how very kind Everard had always been, and how ill-natured
it seemed to refuse--how much she wished to oblige--but the thing was so
distasteful that she felt very averse to comply. She remembered, too,
the beautiful flowers with which Alice had kept her vases constantly
supplied when she was recovering from her illness; she knew full well to
whom she was indebted for them, as but one person in the house dare cull
the choicest flowers with such a lavish hand,

"What are you waiting for, Everard?" Emily inquired, at length.

"For Isabel to relent," said Grace, contemptuously.

Everard rose, and stood for a moment irresolute; then, going to the
piano, set up the music, and, turning to Isabel, said in a tone of deep
earnestness: "Will you oblige me by just trying this, Miss Leicester?"

Grace's lip curled scornfully, and Isabel reluctantly seated herself at
the piano. Having once commenced, she thought of nothing but the beauty
of the anthem, and sung with her whole soul--her full, rich voice
filling the room with melody. Never had Isabel sung like this since she
had left her happy home. When she ceased they all crowded round her,
entreating her to take Miss Cleaver's place just this once.

"She will--she must!" exclaimed Everard, eagerly. "You will--will you
not, Isa-- Miss Leicester?" he asked persuasively.

Isabel was silent.

"A nice example of obliging manners you are setting your pupils," said
Emily, mischievously, at the same time hugging her affectionately. "What
makes my pet so naughty to-day?"

"I suppose I must," said Isabel, in a tone of annoyance; "I see that I
shall have no peace if I don't."

"Thanks, Miss Leicester," said Everard, warmly; "I can't tell you how
much--how very much--obliged I am."

"I should not imagine that such a very ungracious complia