Sister Emily has been living with you
for a long time. She must have told you about me."

"I am ashamed to say I never asked her anything about you."

"I suppose that is because you are very thoughtful. You were
determined--yes, determined--not to give her pain. She is always so sad
when she thinks of us; but Hughie and I are not really unhappy. We don't
mind things now."

"What do you mean by 'now'? Tell me--do tell me."

"Oh, we are at school. Hughie is at a pretty good school, although it is
rather rough. He is learning hard. He is to be apprenticed to a trade
some day. Dear sister Emily cannot afford to bring him up as a
gentleman; but she is saving every penny of her money to put him into a
really good trade. Perhaps he will be a bookbinder, or perhaps a
cabinetmaker."

"But people of that sort are not gentry," said Irene. Then she colored
and bit her lips.

Little Agnes had seen so much of the rough side of life that she was not
at all offended.

"Sister Emily says that she could not afford to bring us up as a lady
and gentleman, and so we are to be trained for something else. I think
she is going to put me into a shop."

"Indeed she won't," said Irene fiercely, "for I won't let her."

There was a new tone in her voice which frightened little Agnes. She
sank back among her soft cushions.

"You mustn't be angry with her, for she is the best sister in all the
world. No one else would work so hard to support us. You know, when
father and mother died there wasn't a penny-piece to keep us, and we
were both very young; and if it hadn't been for Emily I might have been
sent to one of those dreadful charity schools. But as it is, I am being
taught, and now I am staying at this lovely place for the holidays, and
I have met you, and I think you are a sort of angel."

Irene burst into a ringing laugh.

"You're the very first person who has ever called me that," she said.
"Now look here, Agnes; there's just one thing I want to ask you."

"What is that?" asked little Agnes.

"Don't speak to the servants about me, nor even to your beloved Emily,
nor much to Rosamund. You think certain things about me. Other people
may not agree with you."

"I should like to fight them if they differed," said the little girl.

"Well, that's all right; you can fight them by-and-by if you like; but
at present say nothing about me. I am your friend; it will depend on
whether you keep silence or not whether I continue to be your