as a child's when she chooses to reprove, and
yet does not wish to seem censorious. Amy is fifteen, and very
headstrong, as indeed we all are, but even Amy never dreams of hinting
that she would like to do something else than what mamma prefers when
mamma arranges things in her quiet yet masterful fashion. Dear little
mamma. All her daughters except Jessie are taller than herself; but
mother is queen of the Manse, nevertheless.

Amy went off, having with a few deft touches set the library in order,
piling the Bibles and hymn books on the little stand in the corner, and
giving a pat here and a pull there to the cushions, rugs, and curtains,
went pleasantly to begin her hated task of going over the china closet.
Laura followed her.

Elbert, our seventeen-year-old brother, politely held open the door for
the girls to pass through.

"You see, Amy dear," he said, compassionately, "what comes on reflecting
upon papa. It takes some people a long while to learn wisdom."

Amy made a little _moue_ at him.

"I don't mind particularly," she said. "Come, Lole, when a thing's to be
done, the best way is to do it and not fuss nor fret. I ought not to
have said that; I knew it would vex dear mamma; but papa provokes me so
with his solemn directions, as if the whole house did not always hold
its breath when he is in the study. Come, Lole, let's do this work as
well as we can." Amy's sunshiny disposition matches her quick temper.
She may say a quick word on the impulse of the moment, but she makes up
for it afterward by her loving ways.

"It isn't the week for doing this closet, Amy," said Laura. "Why didn't
you tell mamma so? You wanted to paint in your roses and clematis before
noon, didn't you? I think it mean. Things are so contrary," and Laura
sighed.

"Oh, never mind, dear! this won't be to do next week. I think mamma was
displeased and spoke hastily. Mamma and I are so much alike that we
understand one another. I suppose I am just the kind of girl she used to
be, and I hope I'll be the kind of woman she is when I grow up. I'm
imitating mother all I can."

Laura laughed. "Well, Amy, you'd never be so popular in your husband's
congregation as mamma is--never. You haven't so much tact; I don't
believe you'll ever have it, either."

"I haven't yet, of course; but I'd have more tact if I were a grown-up
lady and married to a clergyman. I don't think, though, I'll ever marry
a minister," said Amy, with grave determination, ha