stion of your sister's bread as well as your own. That's all.
If you can do better for her--"

Bertie half smiled, but still he looked out of the window, and he did not
speak. Presently the fretful tapping on the pane ceased, and he began to
whistle the same tune very pleasantly. At last, after some time, the tune
stopped altogether. "I believe I'm a fool," said Lisle. "After all, what
harm can Clifton do to me? And, as you say, it would be a pity to make
Judith uneasy. Bless the stupid prig! he shall lecture me again to-morrow
if he likes. He hasn't broken any bones this time, and I dare say he won't
the next." The young fellow came lounging across the room with his hands
in his pockets as he spoke. "I suppose he has gone on preaching till it's
his second nature. Talk of the girl in the fairy-tale dropping toads and
things from her lips! Why, she was a trifle to old Clifton. I do think he
can't open his mouth without letting a sermon run out."

Thorne was relieved at the turn Bertie's meditations had taken, but he
could not think that the young fellow's position at St. Sylvester's was
very secure. Neither did Judith. Neither did Bertie himself. The thought
did not trouble him, but Judith was evidently anxious.

"You do too much," said Percival one day to her. They were walking to St.
Sylvester's, and Bertie had run back for some music which had been
forgotten.

"Perhaps," said Judith simply. "But it can't be helped."

"What! are they all so busy at Standon Square?"

"Well, the holidays, being so near, make more work, and give one the
strength to get through it."

"I'm not so sure of that. I'm afraid Miss Crawford leaves too much to you,
and you will break down."

"I'm more afraid Miss Crawford will break down. Poor old lady! it goes to
my heart to see her. She tries so hard not to see that she is past work;
and she is."

"Is she so old? I didn't know--"

"She was a governess till she was quite middle-aged, and then she had
contrived to scrape together enough to open this school. My mother was her
first pupil, and the best and dearest of all, she says. She had a terribly
up-hill time to begin with, and even now it is no very great success.
Though she might do very well, poor thing! if they would only let her
alone."

"And who will not let her alone?"

"Oh, there is a swarm of hungry relations, who quarrel over every
half-penny she makes; and she is so good! But you can understand why she
is anxious not to