and were quite ready for a hearty tea; so they all came in with clean faces and smooth hair.

'I am to take papa's place while we are here,' cried Effie; 'so do not make too much noise, if you please. I am very clever, but I cannot listen attentively to more than three people at once.'

The children were indeed making a terrible clatter, -every one talking without caring in the least whether any one was listening or not.

'You pa, indeed!' cried Gus indignantly. 'Fancy a girl being a pa! that is good! No; I'm pa, am not I, Jewey?'

'I should be very glad if you would behave like your papa at meals,' cried Miss Jewel. If you are papa, please, sir, set a good example to the others.'

'All right; here's my first example,' said Gus with a laugh, as he helped himself to a large spoonful of strawberry jam.

'Oh, greedy!' cried little Leslie. 'Papa's never greedy. Give me some jam, please.'

'Certainly, my dear, certainly; hand your plateLiberty Hall, you know.'

'Most correctly named the Folly, I think,' said Miss Jewel. 'Come, Clem, dear, eat something.'

'I don't want to eat. I only want some more tea, please.'

Little Clement was seated at Miss Jewel's right

hand. Next to him sat Rosie, the youngest child. Then came Gus, and then Effie, who was the eldest of the family. On the other side of Effie sat Maggie, a girl of about twelve, with a thick crop of curly hair, and eyes running over with merriment and mischief, and next to her Leslie. He was a year and a half older than Maggie, and also 'as full of mischief as an egg is of meat,' as the nurse expressed it. The two were tremendous friends, though they were always quarrelling. During the whole of tea time they were whispering together very confidentially, and every now and then broke out into fits of suppressed laughter. They had carefully placed themselves in the middle of the table, so that there was an empty space on each side of them. The secret they were discussing was so very important, that they were much afraid of being overheard.

'Really these are the manners of a bear garden!' cried Master Gus; 'whispering at table is contrary to all good breeding. Leslie, if you have anything to say, please say it out.'

'It's a secret,' answered Leslie.

'Yes, a dreadful secret,' chimed in Maggie; 'but you shall know in a few days-at least, I think so.'

'Well, I daresay we shall all be able to restrain our curiosity for a few days.'

'I'm sure you want to know it very much indeed,'

said Maggie, pouting; and it really is a secret; but I've a great mind not to tell you at all, because you are so cross.'.

At this the younger children began to call out, 'Tell me you will tell me, won't you, Maggie? Do, Leslie ;' and for a minute the clamour was so great, that neither Miss Jewel nor Effie could hear themselves speak. When there was a little lull, Leslie began again—

'I say, Jewey, do you know Maggie says she's quite sure we've come to the wrong place; and she believes as soon as we are in bed we shall all be turned out?'

'And why does she think so?' asked Miss Jewel. 'Why, because I heard papa tell a gentleman that he had taken a shooting-box for us; and I'm sure this is not a box at all, it is quite a proper house,' said Maggie.

'It is called a shooting-box, dear, because it is a house gentlemen stay at when they come into the country to shoot.'

'I'm so disappointed,' said Maggie; ' I thought we should have picnics always, all day and all night, and just have a great big box to keep our clothes and our things in.'

How

'Oh you silly!' said Gus contemptuously. the fellows at school would laugh at you! Why, nearly all their fathers keep shooting-boxes of their own.'

'Oh yes, of course—the boys at the school are so grand. I hate the boys at school; and I wish you'd go back to them, you are so cross,' said Maggie.

'You mean you are so silly,' retorted Gus.

'Come, come,' said Miss Jewel, rising, 'I think we have all finished tea. Leslie, dear, ring the bell. There is just half an hour for reading before you go to bed.'

The half hour after tea was one of the pleasantest times in the day for the children, for then Miss Jewel always found some nice book to read aloud; it quieted them, and often gave rise to pleasant little talk before they went to bed.

'You are going to begin a new book to-night, are you not?' asked Effie.

'Yes, darling.'

In a few minutes they were all quietly seated round the fire, for the evenings were still chilly, and Miss Jewel began to read. Little Rosie was nestling close to her side; Leslie lying on the rug at her feet; Gus lolling at full length on the sofa; Maggie curled up by the corner of the fender, nursing a cat; and Effie in an arm-chair, with Clem in her lap. Altogether it was a pretty, pleasant-looking group; and Miss Jewel herself was not the least pleasant part of it.

When the reading was over, they sang some hymns and went to bed.

HE next morning Miss Jewel gave the children a holiday, for she knew they

would be much too restless to attend to

their lessons. As soon as breakfast was over, they were all well wrapped up and went out to discover what sort of a place Chilcot Folly really was; and it proved to be a most delightful place. Just in front of the drawing-room windows was a large croquet lawn, and on one side of that a lake with an island in the middle of it; and on the other side quite a grove of trees, and a walk that would be deliciously shady in summer. There was a little stream running into the lake, and forming quite a small waterfall, which the children at once christened Niagara the stream ran through the lake and on to a large flour mill, which stood just outside the walls of the Folly; and the sound of the mill-wheel was very pleasant. On the lake was a large swan, and

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