Tittle Tattle wants taking down a bit. How stupid we were, ever to have believed a word of what she said! I repent it heartily. While poor Emma has been in anxiety and suspense about her mother, we have been cruelly unkind to her. I do feel so angry with myself,' she added, and tears came into her eyes.

'Well, of course we did not know that Milly would tell such stories,' said Annie.

'I don't suppose she meant to do that exactly,' replied David; 'but it is her horrid way of chattering of what she knows nothing about.'

'It is a shame. I hope she will soon learn her place,' exclaimed Edith.

'I must tell Emma how sorry I am that I should have believed such unjust things about her,' said Annie.

'Of course you ought to,' replied David.

'I wonder what time she will go,' continued Annie; 'I hope it will not be till to-morrow, that we may be able to show her a little kindness before she goes.'

'As for Milly,' muttered Emily

'As for "Titus," you should say,' interrupted Annie; I think she ought to be put into a barrel

with sharp spikes sticking into it, and be rolled down a hill, that she might feel a few of the pricks which she is so fond of inflicting on others.'

'We must not be unkind to her, though,' said David; 'I daresay she did not know what mischief she was making.'

'Oh, David!' exclaimed Annie, 'I am sure you do not mean that, for you know as well as I do that she could not have tattled all the little things she did, without wishing to make us dislike Emma.'

'Well, I think if you send her to Coventry for two days, it may do her good,' replied David. 'You see go back to school to-morrow, so I must be all right with her before I go; but I cannot help thinking that she has acted rather meanly.'

'I should think so, indeed!' answered Annie. 'I sincerely hope that she will never go to the same school with us,' said Edith.

'So do I,' replied Annie. I am going to be sentimental, and pick a little bunch of forgetme-nots for Emma,' she continued, as they sat down by a stream, by the side of which were numbers of large forget-me-nots.

'Ah, you should leave those for her true knight,' said Edith, laughing.

'Oh yes, of course! I am forgetting myself,' replied Annie; nevertheless, I shall pick a

bunch.'

It was getting near dinner time, so they returned home. Milly saw them coming, and ran out to meet them, saying,—

'Just fancy! mamma is locked into Emma's bedroom with her, listening to all her complaints !' but Milly found herself in the wrong box this time, for the indignant and scornful looks which she received in return were enough to overwhelm her with astonishment. David felt quite angry, but he controlled himself, though he wished heartily that Milly was a boy instead of a girl, that he might be able to reward her as she deserved. Edith and Annie were determined that they would try to bring her to her senses, by showing their contempt for her unworthy conduct, and they passed her without a word.

CHAPTER XIII.

A VISIT TO COVENTRY.

MMA'S brother arrived late that evening, and arranged with Mrs. Ellis that his sister should start with him the next morning, and that he would sleep at the hotel for the night.

Nobody had taken the trouble to explain to Milly the reason why Emma was going away, though she was terribly curious to know, and had tried all the means in her power of pumping everybody; but no one thought her worthy of their confidence.

She was more than ever astonished to see how particularly affectionate Edith and Annie had become towards Emma, after having been lately so extremely cold in their manner to her; but what she liked least of all, was to find that she

herself was avoided by every one. When she went into the room where the others were sitting, there was a sudden lull in the conversation, or it was turned on some commonplace subject.

She received no answers to her questions, and nobody seemed to take the slightest interest in anything that she did or said. None of them asked her to take a walk with them. No one took the least notice of her, and this was what she richly deserved. She had brought it upon herself.

The next morning, when Milly came down to breakfast at the usual time, she found to her surprise that all the rest had had their breakfast, and had risen from the table, and that her place alone was left.

She ran up-stairs to look for some one, and to ask why breakfast had been earlier than usual, and where everybody was, and why she had not been told that breakfast was ready, and sundry other questions, which were aroused by what seemed to her a general appearance of mystery.

She met Edith and Annie on the stairs with their out-door things on, but when she asked them where they were going, she received no

answer.