gentle. If they wish you to apply to work and lessons, you must do so with all your heart; and why? because it is God's will for you, and you must strive to do it.'

Elfrida's lustrous eyes were fixed wistfully on the kind face which was bending towards her as she sat in the low chair by Mrs. Ponsonby's side.

'Must I do everything they want me?-take a class at the Sunday school to-morrow, for instance? I know nothing myself; how shall I teach poor children?'

'You will like it if you set about it in the right way. Teaching is often learning.'

'Is it? Then they want me to learn to knit. Oh! I can't do that; it gives my fingers fearful fidgets.'

'Patience will conquer that also,' was the reply. Look here!' and Mrs. Ponsonby drew out of her work-basket a red and black sock, saying, 'What a pleasure I should lose if I could not knit socks for Reginald and Jack, my son and grandson!'

'Ah! that would make a difference, if I were knitting for any one I loved. But who would care for socks if I knit them?'

'There may be feet in the coming years who will be proud to wear what you make for them; and the poor are always thankful for warm stockings.' 'Well, I will try to learn,' Elfrida said; 'you shall

see.

And may I call you what the others call you, Grannie?—it seems so nice to call you that.'

Grannie and her new grandchild exchanged a

Then,

kiss, and their friendship was cemented. as voices were heard in the garden below,-Jack's and Susie's voices,-Elfrida was gone like an arrow from a bow. She escaped observation as she wished, and found her way through the plantations to the white gate leading to the fields, which were separated from the Cottage by the high road. As she reached the last stile she was surprised to hear her name called, and, turning her head, saw Leonora Clarke.

'Oh, I am so charmed to meet you! I was just coming for a turn, to meet papa, who has been at Maintree. Do you know I have been singing all day nearly, your voice has inspired me; and Mimie has such a delightful plan,-that you and I should have lessons from Signor Montalozzi, who comes to Maintree every week from Bellingham. Would you like it, dear?'

'Yes, I should like singing lessons. But who is this Signor Mont-something?'

'Montalozzi-an Italian-Ludovico Montalozzi.' 'That sounds like a sham name,' said Elfrida.

'O dear, no! and Maggie Percival says he is enchanting. She is Dr. Percival's daughter, you

know.'

'I know nobody here,' Elfrida said. 'I must go in now; here is the gate of the Cottage.'

'Oh, wait one minute, and let me come just up to the back-door. The old ladies won't see me. Do you know they can't endure me,-have been quite rude, asked Mimie one day why she

allowed me to wear dangling ornaments on my wrists,-my bangles, you know. I like their clanking sound, it is so Eastern-like ;-Eastern women wear bracelets and anklets too. But it was so rude to notice that my bangles clattered in church, and disturbed the school children. But about the Signor Montalozzi, you would like to have lessons?'

'Yes, if I am allowed.'

'Your voice is something so out of the common, so lovely, that papa says he is dying to hear it.—No, I dare not come in by the front of the house. Good-bye, darling. You can't think how delighted I am you ever came to poor dull little Thorpe Bishop!'

Elfrida was bewildered with this rapid flow of flattering speeches; but in spite of the name, which sounded like a sham, she did think it would be nice to have singing lessons from the Italian master. 'Only they will never let me,' she said to herself as she walked into the Cottage. In the corridor she met Miss Ponsonby.

'Where have you been, Elfrida?'

'To the Court,' was the prompt reply. 'Alone?'

'Yes, quite alone,-over the fields.'

'I saw you coming along the road with a young lady with whom we do not desire any great intimacy. Such conduct must not be repeated. You must not go anywhere without leave, and certainly not with a companion I disapprove.'

I did not go with her,' Elfrida said, with flashing