Aylmer House girls have gone to Aylmer House,
what shall you and I do?"

"Do," said Cicely--"do? I suppose what we've always done. A fresh
governess will be found, and another music-master, and we'll work at
our lessons and do the best we can."

Merry gave a deep sigh.

"We'll never talk French like Belle Tristram," she said, "and we'll
never play so that any one will care to listen to us. We'll never,
never know the world the way the others know it. There seems very
little use in being rich when one can't get education."

It was just at that moment that there came a light tap at the girls'
door. Before they could reply, it was opened and Mrs. Cardew came in.
She looked as though she had been crying; nevertheless, there was a
joyful sort of triumph on her face. She said quickly, "I thought,
somehow, you two naughty children would not be in bed, and I told
father that I'd come up on the chance of finding you. Father has come
back from London, and has something important to tell you. Will you
come down with me at once?"

"Oh mother! mother! what is it?" said Merry in a tone of excitement
which was slightly mingled with awe.

"Your father will tell you, my darling," said Mrs. Cardew.

She put her arm round Merry's slight waist and held Cicely's hand, and
they came down to the great drawing-room where Mr. Cardew was waiting
for them.

He was pacing slowly up and down the room, his hands folded behind his
back. His face was slightly tired, and yet he too wore that odd
expression of mingled triumph and pain which Mrs. Cardew's eyes
expressed.

When the mother and the girls entered the room he at once shut the
door. Mr. Cardew looked first of all at Merry. He held out his hand to
her. "Come to me, little girl," he said.

She flew to him and put her arms round his neck. She kissed him
several times. "Oh dad! dad!" she said, "I know I was downright horrid
and unkind and perfectly dreadful yesterday, and I don't--no, I
_don't_--want to leave you and mother. If I was discontented then, I
am not now."

Merry believed her own words at that moment, for the look on her
father's face had struck to her very heart.

He disengaged her pretty arms very gently, and, still holding her
hand, went up to Cicely, who was clinging to her mother. "I have just
got some news for you both," he said. "You know, of course, that Miss
Beverley cannot teach you any longer?"

"Poor old Beverley," said Cicely; "we are so sorry. But you'll