aught him.

"I know by his looks," she thought, "that he hates my loving Agnes so
much."

Accordingly, she made up her mind to administer a lesson, and to make it
as stiff a piece of terrorism as she could devise.

"He thinks he knows a great deal; but I'll teach him!" thought the girl.

Some of her old wicked spirit had come back to her. She had no longer
any lessons to employ her time; she had no longer Rosamund's wholesome
influence--Rosamund who was in Switzerland, and whose letters,
delightful as they were, could not take the place of her constant
presence.

The day was a sultry one toward the end of August. Miss Frost, pale and
dejected, was seated in one of the arbors. She was doing some
needlework, and little Agnes was sitting on a low stool at her sister's
feet. Miss Frost looked up when Irene suddenly entered.

"I wonder," she said, "if you and Agnes would go to town for me after
lunch? Mother says you may have the pony-trap and drive in. I want you
to get"----

She produced a list of all sorts of materials, including a new doll for
Agnes.

"I want Agnes to have a doll, and a cradle to put it in at night, and
she shall make the clothes for it. Between you and me, we can show her
how. Would you like it, Agnes darling?"

"Oh, shouldn't I just love it!" said little Agnes. "Fancy my being your
baby, and then having a baby of my own! Oh, it seems altogether too
beautiful! Isn't she sweet, Emily?"

Miss Frost looked with her nervous eyes at her pupil. Irene's own bright
eyes looked back in reply. They were full of dancing mischief.

"Mothery will give you some money to buy the necessary things," she
said. "I have spoken to her about it; indeed, she is going with you, and
lunch is to be a quarter of an hour earlier."

"But would you--would you," said Miss Frost, who was trembling all over
with delight at the thought of having her beloved little sister all to
herself for a whole afternoon--"wouldn't you like to keep Agnes? I would
buy the things for her."

She felt herself very noble as she made this remark.

"No," said Irene, shaking her head. "No; I want Agnes to choose her own
doll. You can have a boy-dolly or a girl-dolly," she said, "just as you
please. There is a beautiful shop at Dartford, in the High Street, where
you can buy everything you want. It is called Millar's. You know all
about it, don't you, Frosty? Now, there is the luncheon-bell."

The luncheon-bell sounded. Miss Frost, little A