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come home, I met him coming in with Katie from the orchard. I was going down to the hayfields, where I expected to find all the children, and when they came near I said, 'Why, children, I thought you were in the hayfield! Will you come down with me now?'

They both started and looked up, as if I had taken them by surprise. Katie blushed crimson, and without answering, she turned away and ran down one of the garden paths.

'What's the matter?' I asked Frank. 'Has Katie hurt herself?' For once before she had cut herself with a dinner knife, and seemed to think she had done something wrong.

'No,' said Frank gruffly; 'she's only stupid. You go on, and I'll go after her and bring her down.'

However, they did not appear all the morning, and at our early dinner it struck me that she had been crying. From that time she seemed more frightened and shy than ever, and shrank away if Margie or I came near, with a look that pained me very much. I tried several times to find out if anything was the matter, but could not get her to do anything but cry. Even mamma noticed it at last, and one evening, when the children had all gone to bed, she said to me,—

'Bridget, I don't think that child is well. She has looked quite unhappy the last day or two, and I have heard her complain of headache more than once.'

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'I think she's all right as far as health goes, mamma,' I said, sticking my paint brush in my hair, and leaning back to look at my picture. 'I think there's something on her mind.'

'Then why don't you find out what it is?' rejoined my mother very naturally.

'I have tried,' I said, smiling, ' and I daresay I shall succeed by and by; but I have not done so at present.'

'Frank has been rather less tiresome lately,' said Margie, looking up from the piano. 'I really think we shall do something with him at last.'

'Poor little thing! he has been dreadfully spoilt,' I said, leaning forward again to put a finishing touch. 'He would make a capital boy, with a little training.'

'You had better stop painting,' observed my mother; 'it is getting dark.'

'Fancy! the longest day has gone already,' sighed Margie, coming behind my chair to look at my work. 'Why, Biddy, you have nearly finished it!'

'I almost think I have,' I said. 'I am not sure that I shall not find a touch wanting here and there tomorrow; but the box does not go till Thursday, so I shall have plenty of time.'

It was a drawing in water-colours of the four younger children. They were represented at tea in their favourite place in the Holywell house garden,

and there was a bit of view showing behind. I had taken great pains to do it for my eldest brother, who had been absent some years; and, at the risk of being thought conceited, I will confess that I was very proud of it. The faces were very like, especially Birdie's, who had crowned herself with her own particular flower, the May-blossom. Mamma came to look at it too, and then I carried it into my own room, to be out of danger from smaller critics.

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EXT day was the 23d of June, and Tony was coming home. Frank was dreadfully tiresome all the morning; and after dinner Birdie came up to me with an air of great mystery, and begged that I would come and speak to Frank, as he was really too naughty-had made Mary cry with pulling her hair, and would say wicked things about Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John!

It was just after Anthony's arrival, and we were walking up to the house together, so that Birdie's complaint ended in a cry of delight, and she was rushing off at once to call the others when I stopped her, and asked where Frank was.

'He has gone away now,' she said. 'We were all in the orchard, and Margie said she would not have him there any longer. But Margie wants you to scold him.' 'Well, I'll go and find him directly. And look here,

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May-bird, don't let the others come up. Tell them Tony and I will come down as soon as we have spoken to mamma.'

We went into the house, but mamma had gone to Eskholme-le-Marsh; and I proposed that Tony should come and have a look at my picture before we went out again. As we opened the door, there was a scuffle inside, and Frank stood before us, looking horribly red and guilty.

'What are you doing here?' I exclaimed; and then I caught sight of my cherished picture, and knew the worst. All the faces had inky moustaches;—Mary had a beard and whiskers; Mervyn, spectacles and a fool's cap; Birdie, the tea-maker, appeared to be putting an immense black frog into the teapot; and a couple of additional forks were waltzing with the radishes and the cream-jug!

'O Frank!' I cried, and then, in spite of myself, I burst into tears. It was very silly perhaps, but I cared so immensely; I almost loved that picture. And here was the work of three months spoilt for the mischievous pleasure of twenty minutes! I often think that if children knew how much pain they give their grown-up friends by the things they do 'for fun,' they would be more careful.

However, I had no time to think about my own feelings just then, for the picture and my tears together had made Tony extremely angry.

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