selves, no one knew where! The dog had been seen 'to cut away like mad,' because Billy M'Ivor had been peeping out of his door, and had seen him, and shot back in consequence. It was all very odd,—and very wonderful; -but Hotspur was not coming, and this made it all right! So the little people continued their course to the diningroom, and ceased to wonder so very much.

Three facts had been imparted to Mrs Walpole by her husband, and to these she added her own knowledge of Grace's sulky conduct in the morning. That the two boys had nearly had a fight on the landing, chiefly Hotspur's fault, as the Colonel willingly believed; that Hotspur had cruelly worried Grace out of the press; but that the girl had lain there for some time, long enough for something very like a quarrel to pass between her and Roger, a sort of addenda to one that had occurred in the morning!

She therefore mounted the stairs with decision, determined to find one niece or the other, and put a stop to such scenes for the future.

As for the poor little cat, she was found with her back broken, and had to be killed that same afternoon-Grace's only English friend: her only friend at all, that she knew of, except her ayah in India.

M

Hamlet.

RS WALPOLE did not find Grace or Isabel in their room. As the reader knows, Grace had escaped without delay, and her sister, on hearing the uproar, and observing Grace's flight, had forborne to follow her, she had repaired instead to her mother's room, fearing that Mrs M'Ivor might have been disturbed by the noise; and such in truth was the case! Her mother needed all her soothing care to calm her; care that Isabel loved to give, and her mother delighted to receive.

A spoiled child all her life, spoiled by her parents, and her more vigorously-minded sister; spoiled by her petting husband; and sequestered by her real ill-health, and terrible indolence from the cares and work that might have hardened her she now accepted as her own by right, the gentle thoughtful attentions of her eldest child.

And Isabel had learnt to be a good nurse, during the long painful illness that had tried for months and months,

the aunt she had lately lost. The devoted care she had joyfully bestowed on this invaluable friend, she was now ready to pour out upon her mother; who seemed returned just to fill the void in her heart, and to revive the happy cherished memories she had herself left in the girl's recollection.

She now took her place by her mother's chair, and endeavoured to soothe the nervous alarm that the noise in the next room but one had occasioned.

'But the dog! my dear Isabel-he was there! what business had he there? who could have brought him?' 'Indeed, mamma! he had no business at all there, I should think. He was in the arms of a boy bigger than Roger, when I saw him on the stairs.'

'Who was the boy, my dear? Very extraordinary to bring a strange dog into your aunt's bed-rooms!'

'Very, mamma, I don't think he will come again though! for I met him, as I ran up, racing out of the house as fast as his legs could carry him.'

'And your uncle ;—I thought I heard his voice? Surely it was he who shook the door so violently? He burst it in, it seemed to me! Really, my dear, it was a dreadful noise ! I thought he seemed scolding Roger; and Grace, I thought, was screaming;—what was it all about, Isabel? I hope they are kind to the children! were the children naughty, my love? It is dreadfully trying to hear so much, and be able to do so little !'

'I really hardly know what has happened. I heard a great noise,' replied Isabel, ' and I ran up stairs to see what was the matter. But my uncle passed me, and was in the room before I reached it. But here comes aunt Jane! perhaps she can tell you more.'

Yet the troubled look that Isabel gave Mrs Walpole, as

she entered the room, conveyed to that lady's mind the understanding, that the least said to Mrs M'Ivor, on the matter, the better. She therefore smoothed her ruffled brow, before she reached her sister's side.

But she was not a lady who could allow such senseless and unbecoming disturbances in her house. She never had been known to stand rebellion and uproar in her life; she was not going to begin now. Indeed, until such a born rebel as Grace had crossed her path, no one ever disputed her sway. But Grace baffled even her aunt. Perhaps because if measures of repression would do her any good, those she required were so much more severe than suited Mrs Walpole's ideas of hospitality. Perhaps because the lady felt that no such measures would be of any use whatever in really subduing Grace. In this dilemma she turned with some hope and confidence to Isabel, that she might in time establish order amongst these unruly M'Ivor children. Mrs Walpole had no fear that the disorder would spread to her own.

But what a task for poor Isabel, coming from a placid home and death-bed, to plunge into and control such wild tumult !

'Well, sister Fanny,' began Mrs Walpole, 'so we have had your old acquaintance, Letty Roger's son here, with his dog, turning the house upside down. I am afraid he must have disturbed even the peace of this room with his uproar. I never saw such a boy. He is unbearable.' 'Indeed, Jane, I did not know what to make of the noise; but I hope no harm has been done?'

'None of much consequence, I hope too.

Your girl's

room is in a fine rummage; but that can be soon set to rights. Isabel, can you leave your mother for a minute? I want you.'

'What was the matter?' she inquired as soon as they

had retired into the dressing-room, 'Where was Grace?— what provoked that bad boy?-However, I need scarcely ask. He would not need much provoking! His mother was always odious, and he is worse, I think. But can you explain it at all?'

No aunt, I cannot,' replied Isabel, 'I was down stairs when I heard the noise; but before I could get up, uncle William passed me, and I did not attempt to follow him into our room. I came here because I thought mamma might be frightened.'

But

'And you were right. But how about Grace? I hear that she was hunted out of a press! and that a running fight had been going on between her and Roger all the morning; .rather a normal state of affairs, I am afraid! Had she been sulking in that press ever since the note? She is a most unaccountable girl-I really do not know what to do with her I cannot let these disturbances go on, indeed I will have no more of them. I do not like to speak myself. Grace seems to have been hurt by the little I said about the note-little enough! and well deserved' (after a pause), 'I believe you are the only person, Isabel, to do any thing, and that you must seriously try your utmost to control your brother and sister. I see no other way! I cannot worry your mother about it. Cannot you speak to both Grace and Roger, and insist upon peace, at any rate, while they remain here? You can take a pleasant message to Roger to begin with,' she added, after another pause, 'you can release him from his room, and tell him that his uncle considered him uncommonly' plucky' to fly, as he did, upon that disagreeable boy and shake him. Your uncle had all the will to shake Hotspur himself; but still such doings must not be in our house, and to our guests. Cannot be, Isabel !'