reading all the time you are in the house."

"Aunt Harry has begun to teach me to knit."

"Very good," said Mr. Eberstein. "I believe in knitting too. That's
safe."

They went to dinner, and after dinner there was a further knitting
lesson, in which Dolly seemed absorbed; nevertheless, before the
evening was over she brought up a very different subject again.

"Aunt Harry," she began, in the midst of an arduous effort to get the
loops of wool on her needles in the right relative condition,--"does
mother know about the Bible?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Eberstein, with a glance at her husband, "she knows
about it, something."

"Then why did she never tell me anything about it?"

Mrs. Eberstein hesitated.

"I suppose, Dolly, her thoughts were fuller of other things."

"But how _could_ they be?" said the little one, laying her hands with
their knitting work in her lap, and looking up.

Her aunt did not answer.

"How could her thoughts be fuller of other things, if she knows the
Bible?" Dolly urged.

"I don't think she really knows much of what is in the Bible," Mrs.
Eberstein said. "She has never read it much."

"I don't think she knows about Jesus," Dolly went on gravely; "for she
never told me; and she would if she had known, I think. Aunt Harriet, I
think _I_ ought to tell _her_ now."

"What would you tell her, my darling?"

"Oh, I will tell her that I know Him and love Him; and I will tell her
I have got a Bible, and some of the things I have found in it. I will
ask her to get one too, and read it. I don't believe she knows."

"The reason why a great many people do not know, Dolly, is, as your
Aunt Harry says, that they are so much taken up with other things."

"Then I think one ought to take care not to be too much taken up with
other things," said Dolly very seriously.

"But you have got to be taken up with other things," Mr. Eberstein went
on. "Here you are going to school in a few days; then your head will be
full of English and French, and your hands full of piano keys and harp
strings, from morning till night. How are you going to do?"

Dolly looked at the speaker, came and placed herself on his knee again,
and laid a hand on his shoulder; eyeing him steadily.

"Ought I not to go to school?"

"Must!--else you cannot be the right sort of a woman, and do the right
sort of work."

"How then, Uncle Edward? what shall I do?"

"I'll tell you one thing, Dolly. Don't study and practise to get ahead