t out on
their walk to Belmont Cottage. Susan was surprised to see that each
little girl was provided with a hoop, which was the nearest approach to
a toy of any kind that she had observed during her visit.

"We always take hoops out in the afternoon until the month of May,"
explained Lucy. "Mother considers the exercise healthy."

It was such a relief to Susan to feel that the visit was over, and that
she was really going back, that she could not walk quite soberly with
Miss Pink, but danced along the parade by little Eva's side as she
bowled her hoop, and was almost inclined to sing aloud with pleasure.
There were a great many people about, and quite a crowd of carriages,
and soon in the distance they saw Mrs Winslow's black horses
approaching. She had left Margaretta at Belmont Cottage, and was now
returning. Just as the carriage passed, Eva, who was staring at her
mother, gave her hoop a blow which sent it in the wrong direction, and
it trundled out into the middle of the road, almost under the horses'
feet. Not quite, however, for Susan, who was watching it, sprang after
it and caught it away just in time. Mrs Winslow nodded and smiled at
the children, the carriage drove on, and Susan carried the hoop back to
the path where the little Winslows were drawn up in a row with very
serious faces.

"You might have been run over," said Lucy gravely.

"I didn't think about it," said Susan.

"Mother says," continued Lucy, "_Always_ think before you act."

"My dear," interrupted Miss Pink hastily, "Susan has done very well.
There are exceptions to every rule."

When Susan reached home she found Sophia Jane still sitting up, and
eager to hear all the news about the visit. She at once inquired if the
Winslows were "horrid;" but Susan would not quite say that. "They were
very kind to her and very good, but--" she added, "I haven't enjoyed
myself a bit, and I never want to go there again or see them any more."

"I told you so," said Sophia Jane, and she gave herself a hug of
satisfaction.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

"CAPTAIN ENTICKNAPP."

It was the end of March before Sophia Jane was allowed to go
down-stairs. She had been ill six long weeks, and even now she was very
far from strong, and walked in a tottering manner like a little old
lady. Susan, much excited and pleased, hovered round her, anxious to be
useful and add to her comfort. She led her carefully to the large
arm-chair which she had dragged near the