r, and if I were remaining here I should not
allow you all to go into the kitchen so much. It will be very good for
you to try to please your aunt. Children don't know what is best for
them, and--and they should learn to consider others before themselves."

A grown-up observer might have smiled satirically at Mrs. Carroll's
theories, so easily preached, so neglected in practice.

"Now run away. I have so much to think of, my poor head is quite
bewildered. I think I must have a cup of tea at once--will you tell
Esther or Lydia to make it for me--or I shall have a dreadful headache,
and I _must_ think out what outfit I shall require, or it will never be
ready in time, and I must try to let the house, or we shall have to pay
another quarter's rent, and there is the furniture to get rid of and--oh
dear, oh dear, my poor head feels quite bewildered already; however
_shall_ I manage it all, and by myself too! It is really too much to face
alone--now, children, don't make a noise or you will drive me distracted."

Without another word the three walked away in search of Esther, and to
talk over the dreadful and bewildering change the last hour had wrought in
their outlook; but Esther, sitting white-faced and angry-eyed on her bed,
could not be brought to discuss anything. She was bitterly disappointed
not to be going to Canada, furiously angry at having to go to Aunt Julia,
who treated them all invariably as though they were naughty or going to be
naughty, cruelly hurt that her mother showed so little feeling at being
parted from them all, and, curiously, full of pain at the thought of
parting from that mother.

Poor Esther could not see, of course, that this same parting was really
for her good; that there, under the strain and discord of her home she was
allowing herself to become irritable and captious, despondent and
sharp-tongued. She knew she always felt cross and injured and sore,
but she never set herself to face the reason and combat it.

Two days later a reply came from Miss Julia Foster, and a frown sat
heavily on Mrs. Carroll's brow. Aunt Julia firmly refused to take over at
a moment's notice the burden her sister was so calmly laying on her
shoulders.

"People who have children must expect to give up something for them," she
wrote. "You really must not expect to throw off your responsibilities in
this way. It is your duty to stay with them if you cannot take them with
you. I observe you say nothing