be counting stitches very hard.

"'Ahem!' said Mr. Monk. I could hear that he was surprised, for, of
course, Miss Barry wouldn't say 'simply fierce,' but it slipped out
before I knew it.

"'Miss Barry,' he said, 'I have brought Bishop Ballantyne to see you. I
am sure you will be glad to receive him.'

"'Oh, I should perfectly _love_ to see the Bishop!' I said; because
Bishop Ballantyne is simply a duck, an adorable duck; but still I did
not turn round; and I could hear Miss Barry squeaking with laughter in
the closet, and it was really getting quite awful. But now Mr. Monk
began to suspect something. I believe he thought I had been drinking, or
rather that Miss Barry had, poor old dear. He said, in a pretty awful
voice: 'What does this mean? Miss Barry, I desire that, if you are
unable to rise, you will at least turn round, and receive Bishop
Ballantyne in a fitting manner. I cannot conceive--I must beg you to
believe, Bishop, that this has never happened before. I am beyond
measure distressed. Miss Barry,--'

"And then he stopped, for I turned round. I had to, of course; there was
nothing else to do.

"'How do you do, Bishop Ballantyne?' I said. 'Can you tell me whether
Solomon's seal was tame or not?'

"For a minute they both stared as if they had seen a ghost; but then the
Bishop went off into a great roar of laughter, and I thought he would
laugh himself into fits, and me, too; and the more solemn Mr. Monk
looked, the more we laughed; and Miss Barry was cackling like a hen in
the closet--oh, it was great, girls, it truly was! At last Mr. Monk had
to laugh too, he couldn't help it; it was simply too utter, you know. He
said I was enough to break up an entire parish; and the Bishop said he
would take me into his, cap and all. And then the matron came back, and
Miss Barry came out, and we all stayed to tea, the Bishop and Mr. Monk
and I, and had the time of our lives; at least, I did.

"So you see, girls, visiting _can_ be the greatest sport in the world,
if you only know how to do it. But we all had to promise Mr. Monk and
Mrs. Poddle not to tell, because they said it was enough to break up the
discipline of the Home, and I suppose it was."

CHAPTER XIV.

MOONLIGHT AGAIN

THE evening was showery, and indoor games were the order of it. The
first half-hour after the dishes were washed (a task performed to music,
all hands joining in the choruses of "John Peel," "Blow, ye winds of
morning," etc.) was