he at last gave his consent to her having school one hour, for two, or at the very most sometimes three, afternoons a week; and then Nana was always to go with her as well as, or instead of, Rebecca, and she was not to work so hard any more in preparing the lessons.

Hilda was satisfied, kissed her father and mother very lovingly and gratefully for this permission, and very soon after it was given went to bed.

Here darkness comes

There is no twilight in Grenada. suddenly and very early, considering that all is summer weather. Hilda did not sit up long after it was dark. With the birds, this little girl went early to roost; with them, she also rose betimes. But the child went very gladly to bed that evening, looking forward the next day to giving her postponed geography-lesson, when the pupils, as well as the teacher, really acquitted themselves very creditably. And then a new school arbour was built within the garden, rather nearer to the house, where not only a table appeared, but to which also several seats found their way.

'Poor little girl!' her father said to his wife after she had gone to bed; 'this new "plan" of Hilda's shows me all the more how very important it is for the child soon to go to school, where she will have proper companions and proper occupation. She is too much with grown-up people, troubling her little head about schools and cedar trees wherewith to build them. It is much better for her to go to school, mix with other children, and find her level, sad, very sad though it will be for us to part with her. It is not good for a little child to be so constantly with those who think and make so much of her; and the doctor says, too,

that the climate is beginning to tell upon Hilda, and that the roses will never come back to her little cheeks again until she goes away. Therefore, for every reason, we must quite make up our minds to taking, or if we cannot do this, to sending her in six months' time either to school in England or France, whichever you think best.'

'And she is such a good little girl,' said Mrs. Montgomery; 'not like a spoilt child at all.'

'But it is not good for Hilda,' said her father, 'to have her own way so much, even though her own way seems to be a very good, kind little way to us; for sooner or later she must be thwarted, and how will she bear thwarting after being spoilt so long?'

'You are quite right,' said her mother, ' and for her sake I will make up my mind to it.'

Every day, every hour of Hilda's life had till now been a day, an hour spent happily; but could this last? would it be for her good that it should? Surely not.

'Sufficient for her little day is her good or evil, should this latter have to come; therefore, perhaps, we should not look on. But all happiness, all our own way is good for none of us; no childhood is passed without some tear-shedding, some sorrow or disappointment. An uninterrupted childhood of joys would be but a bad training for a useful, holy, selfdenying after-life; therefore we must not even wish that Hilda could have all pleasure.'

HE school at Glottis had been built. Hilda's own, only cedar tree had been cut down to help to wainscot it, her father feeling very glad

to give his little girl permission to make the generous offer she was so very anxious to make. Hilda's little school had been continued until this one was opened, although, as we can easily imagine, it was carried on less. regularly than at first, and sometimes, either because the mistress or the pupils were busy, they only assembled once a week.

But when Glottis school opened, all Hilda's pupils but Nenus went to it. Nenus could not be spared, and Nana, Mrs. Montgomery, and Hilda taught him between them.

Hilda was taken to the opening of the school. She saw the first lesson given there, she heard the first song sung, and she heard also men, women, boys, and girls, right and left, calling the school 'Miss Hilda Cedar Tree School,' by which name it afterwards generally went. The men and boys who had cut down the tree, prepared the wood, and

carried it to the site were those who first fixed upon this name. Hilda enjoyed her visit to the opening very much, and was quite pleased to lose her pupils for them to go to so beautiful a school.

But five months had now passed since Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had finally settled about Hilda leaving them, and she had known for some time what had been planned for her.

She was to go to a school in Passy, near to Paris, there to be educated. Her father and mother had arranged it all for her, and as they loved her even better than Nana and old Grandfather Charles, it must be for her good, as they told her it was; but every time she thought of all the people, all the animals, all the things to which she would have to say 'Good-bye,' she was unhappy.

The school at Passy had been selected because the head governess there (not the proprietress of the school) had been Mrs. Montgomery's own governess, and she knew her to be a very kind and good woman. A Madame Rivière kept the school, with many governesses under her; and as one of them was an English lady, Hilda's own language would not be neglected, whilst she would be learning French very perfectly.

Unfortunately, neither of her parents were able to go to Europe now, therefore it was arranged for Nana to take the child to school, and for both of them, if possible, to pay her a visit in a year's time.

'I'm going away from you, Dora,' Hilda said one day when she and her little sister were alone in the nursery together; 'I'm going right, right away across the sea. Mother showed Nenus in the map to-day where it was,

because he wanted to see. Yes, Baby Dora,' Hilda still called her little sister by that name, 'but you don't seem to mind at all. I'm going right away in a big ship, ever so far; and I shan't sleep in a bed next to you any more, or have tea with you, or play, or tell you stories, or anything.' This seemed to bring facts more home to Dora.

Tooly?' the little girl said.

'Yes, truly; and I shan't be able to lend you my doll, or show you any more pictures, or do one single thing,' Hilda continued.

'Quite tooly?' asked the child again.

'Yes,' said Hilda, 'quite truly; and you'll have father, and mother, and Nana, and Grandfather Charles, and everybody, and I shan't have one person.'

'And Jack?' asked Dora, as the big dog now came into the nursery.

'I shan't have him either,' said Hilda, and began to cry. Dora's sympathy was at last aroused, and caressing her sister, and saying 'Poor Hilda!' she began to cry also, and to say that she would ask Nana to let her go too.

'But Nana can't, because you're too little to go to school. O Dora, I wish I were little like you!' Hilda said, as she kissed her baby sister very affectionately. And I've got to go very soon now.'

'You wum?' asked Dora. 'You one-only you?' she meant to say.

'Nana will

'I wum to stay in France alone,' said Hilda. have to come back to you. I don't think you love me, Dora, nearly as much as I love you,' Hilda then went on; 'that's ever so much. How much do you think you love me?'

Dora put both arms very affectionately round Hilda's neck.