it."

With an incomprehensive look at Elsa, as if such conduct were beyond her ken, Olive burst out, "Well, you are a dear good creature, Elsa; I'm sorry now I was cross to you," and she looked affectionately into the quiet face Elsa lifted to hers, as she rose from her stooping posture. They were never at variance for long, this pair of twins, for if Olive was careless and hot-tempered she was also generous and affectionate.

"I know you didn't mean it," was all Elsa said, but the smile which irradiated her face at the words of commendation was good to see.

Elsa soon put matters right with cook (who had been for many years a faithful servant in the doctor's busy household) and was on her way to find Kathleen, when she heard her name called.

"Elsa, dear!"

Gently pushing open the door of a room that was half bedroom and half boudoir, she found the object of her search sitting beside a couch on which reclined a delicate looking lady, who, from the resemblance her daughter bore her, was unmistakably their mother.

"Did you want me, mamma?" she said, as she bent over the invalid.

"Yes, darling, I heard a noise like something falling upstairs a little while ago, and I was afraid one of you was hurt."

Elsa had to stoop quite low to hear the whispered words, for it had been one of the fragile mother's bad days, and she was very weak.

In a few words Elsa explained the catastrophe, taking care not to make the worst of Olive's temper; but both the mother and Kathleen read between the lines.

The latter rose hastily, a look of annoyance on her girlish face.

"Really, Olive is too careless," she said indignantly. "She is always spoiling something; only last week she tore a long zig-zag slit in her blue serge dress, and now this grey one will be ruined, and she will have nothing fit to go back to school in. I must go and see what can be done, I suppose, but I shall give her a good scolding."

"Don't be too harsh with her, Kathie," pleaded her mother. "It was very thoughtless of her, I know, but she will soon grow older now and be more careful. Girls will be girls." And she looked at her tall, handsome daughter, who had never given her a quarter of the trouble that Olive had, with admiring and yet wistful eyes. How she wished for the sake of her eight robust sons and daughters that she had not been compelled, since Paddy's babyhood, to spend the greater part of her life in her own room. But yet she could not regret the imprisonment, for it was only since she had been forced to give up her busy active life in the large household, where the doctor's income never seemed sufficient to meet the huge demands made upon it, that she had learnt that bringing up her boys and girls to be healthy and happy was not all that was necessary. God had taken the busy mother aside, and had shown her that her children were only lent to her, to be trained for Him. And she had heard His loving voice, and was seeking now to do what she could to make amends for the years of lost opportunities. Her eldest daughter Lois (who, as far as she could, had taken her mother's place in the household) and Elsa had already chosen "that good part which shall never be taken away." But the mother-heart yearned over her two big sons, Roger and Dick, winsome Kathleen and careless Olive.

She held Elsa's warm young hand in her nerveless grasp, as Kathleen closed the door behind her, and drew the girlish face, aglow with health, down to hers, until their lips met in a long, lingering caress; this quiet, thoughtful little daughter was a great comfort to her mother.

"I am afraid poor Olive was in a temper again, Elsa, for I do not see how the saucer could have fallen by itself. But do not tell me, dear; I will speak to her myself when she comes in to see me later on."

"She doesn't get into a temper quite so often as she used to, mamma," said Elsa, eager to defend the absentee. "At least, we don't have so many quarrels now."

"I can guess why that is," whispered Mrs. Franklyn, tenderly, as she stroked the dark hair with her soft white fingers; "it takes two to make a quarrel, I used to be told in my childhood, and my Elsa tries very hard nowadays not to be one of the two, doesn't she?"

"Yes, mamma, generally, but I don't always succeed," and the girlish head was half hidden in the rug which covered her mother's slight form, so that her words were only just audible. "Sometimes I fail; I did yesterday when we were having a game, but oh! mamma, I was so sorry afterwards." And she raised her tear-dimmed eyes to her mother's face.

"Did you tell Jesus, darling?"

"Oh! yes, mamma. I always do, directly, and----"

"He has forgiven you, then, Elsa?"

"Yes, mamma, I know He has; but oh! I do wish I could remember quicker, so as not to let the hasty words slip out. It must grieve Him so!"

"So it does, my childie, but I am sure He is pleased, too, when He sees how hard you fight against this enemy of yours, and He is only too ready to help you. Keep looking to Him for strength, Elsa, and go on persevering, and pray for Olive, dear; her enemy is stronger far than yours, and she does not try to conquer it."

"I do, mamma, I do," murmured her little daughter.

And then the tea-bell sounded through the house, summoning all the young folk to the large, plainly furnished dining-room where Lois Franklyn presided over the tea-tray. "Just her mother over again," was Dr. Franklyn's description of his eldest daughter, but there seemed little resemblance, nowadays, between the fragile invalid and this tall, capable young woman of three-and-twenty. Lois was not so handsome as Kathleen, but there was a certain indescribable charm about her, a nameless something which was wont to retain the admiration that Kathleen's more youthful beauty at first sight attracted.

From furtive glances at Kathleen and Olive, Elsa gathered that no serious trouble had arisen between the sisters; indeed, Olive seemed on her best behaviour. So Elsa breathed freely, and concluded that the turpentine incident had blown over, as no mention was made of it. The meal passed merrily enough; Kathleen's racy account of her contretemps with Mr. Bertram amusing them very much. Paddy and Joan were just being reprimanded by Lois for running away, when Dr. Franklyn appeared on the scene, tired out after a long round of visits, and his children vied with each other in making him comfortable.

"How is your mother, Lois?" was his first query, as she poured out a cup of tea, and begged him to drink it at once, assuring him that the invalid had rested a little, and felt a trifle better.

He drank it hastily, and then set the cup down, saying: "I will have some more when I come back: only one of you girls need wait for me."

And Lois, seeing that he was physically worn out, despatched the younger ones in various directions, as soon as they had finished their tea, and thus secured a quiet room for her father in which to have his long-waited-for meal in peace.