hink of your studies, my dear," Mrs. Murray said at last; "you won't
feel fresh for them, and that will distress you so much to-morrow."

Eleanor winced. In what a selfish light must she have appeared to Mrs.
Murray all these weeks if the latter could suppose that the fear of being
too sleepy to do her lessons to-morrow would send her post-haste back to
bed now!

"Bother my studies!" she said energetically, and Mrs. Murray seeing the
uselessness of further protest said no more. But at last she declared
that the pain was gone for the moment, and that if she got into bed
quickly she might fall asleep before it returned. So Eleanor helped her
into bed, and had the satisfaction of seeing her doze off before she left
the room. It would be rather too much to say that Eleanor returned to her
bed an hour and a half after she had left it with a totally changed
character, but she did go back with a clearer recognition of her
besetting sin of selfishness than she had ever had before.

"It's always been Eleanor Carson first, Eleanor Carson second, and
Eleanor Carson third with me," she thought, "and the rest of the field
nowhere. I take all and I give nothing. I am selfish and hard and narrow.
Miss McDonald knew it. That was what she meant when she said one day that
selfish people didn't know what they missed, and that I should be a
happier girl if I thought more of others. Oh dear! there I go again; I
don't seem able to leave myself out of consideration for a moment. And
if I am only going to be unselfish for the sake of becoming a nicer
character myself, I don't see where the true nobility of unselfishness
comes in."

Eleanor fell asleep before she had worked that question out to her
satisfaction, and all the next day she was too busy practising the
quality to have much time to think about it. Madame Martelli had sent up
in the morning to say that the sudden change in the weather had given her
such a bad cold that she would be unable to receive her pupil until
further notice, and as Mrs. Murray had wisely resolved to stay in bed for
a few days, Eleanor, with a total disregard for her studies of which a
few days ago she really would not have believed herself capable, devoted
all her energies to nursing her. She carried all her meals up to her, sat
with her, rubbed her knee, gave her her medicine, brought her hot
bottles, and generally made a great fuss over her. And Mrs. Murray was so
appreciative of all she did that Eleanor to