"I don't know, Freddy," said the girl, feeling some slight moral coercion
incumbent on her. "Do you _think_ you will call nurse a fool again?"

"She shouldn't bother," said the infant, confidentially, climbing into
her lap, but declining to commit himself to any pledges of good
behaviour. "Show me the book."

Half-an-hour after, Mrs. Rolleston looking in, saw a pretty little
picture--the old nurse was nodding in a rocking-chair. Bluebell's fair
young face was bending over Freddy, seated on her lap, with as arm round
her neck, his cherubic visage beaming with interest as he listened to the
classic tale of "Three Wishes." It was easier to her to continue the
recital, while a dread of being questioned prevented her looking up.

"Bluebell is telling Freddy such a beautiful fairy story," said Mrs.
Rolleston, to some one who had followed her to the nursery.

"I wish she would tell fairy stories to me," said Bertie.




CHAPTER VI.

VISITORS.

In aught that from me lures thine eyes
My jealousy has trial;
The lightest cloud across the skies
Has darkness for the dial.