fore. It's a long walk from Stapleham, and she
knew she would be coming in a few days with my new dress, so thought it
wouldn't matter."

Nurse was so genuinely distressed that Eleanor could not find it in her
heart to say anything to add to her trouble. Besides, how could she, of
all others, do so?

"I," she reflected, "with mamma's warning in my ears. Ah yes, I see now
what she meant by Maggie's impressionableness, and imaginativeness, and
the tender treatment she needs."

The next day Eleanor herself told Maggie of the discovery, and showed
her the box. For a moment an expression of extreme perplexity clouded
the child's face. Then like a sudden ray of sunshine, light broke over
it.

"I know, Miss Campbell!" she exclaimed, "I know how it was. I thinkened
and thinkened so much about it that at last I dreamed it. But only about
the goodies, not the box. So I didn't tell a story, did I, Miss
Campbell? Dreams aren't stories."

"No, darling. And will you forgive me for doubting you?" said Eleanor.

"But how could you help it, Miss Campbell, dear Miss Campbell?" cried
Maggie, without a touch of resentment.

So Maggie was cleared, and the new sympathy with her, born of this
grievous mistake, never failed her on the part of her eldest sister; and
Maggie's temper and odd ways gradually softened down into no worse
things than unusual energy and very decided talent. She became
undoubtedly the "clever woman of the family," but as her heart expanded
with her head, Eleanor had good reason to feel happy pride in her young
sister. And when the mother came home, after a month's absence, to find
all prospering under Miss Campbell's care, and Eleanor felt free to tell
her all that happened--which by letter, for fear of troubling her, she
had refrained from doing--she felt that her one misgiving as to her
eldest daughter's influence over the younger ones was removed. The
lesson of the missing bon-bons would never be forgotten. Poor Maggie's
three days of suffering had not been in vain.

LOST ROLLO

CHAPTER I

EVER since Persis and I were quite little there was one thing we longed
for more than anything else. I think most children have some great wish,
or fancy, perhaps grown-up people would call it, like that. But with
many it changes, especially of course if they get the thing--_then_ they
set to work longing and planning for something else. But Persis and I
didn't change--not even when we got it, or thought we had