sweeping softly down, comes their guardian angel--hung over the mantel.

How much pleasure I took in that room, in the book shelves always full,
in the pretty rugs and the cool matting and the dainty drapery, all
girls can imagine. It was my own Snuggery, and I kept it in the
loveliest good order, as mother liked me to.

Tap, tap, tap.

"Goodness!" cried Veva, only half awake.

"What is that? Mice?" said Marjorie, timidly.

"Burglars!" exclaimed Veva.

"Hush, girls!" I said, shaking off my drowsiness. "It's poor grandmamma,
and she has one of her fearfulest headaches. It's two weeks since she
had the last, so one may be expected about now. The tap means, 'Come to
me, quickly.'"

I ran to the door, and said, "Coming, grandmamma!" slipped my feet into
my soft knitted shoes, and hurried my gray flannel wrapper on, then
hastened to her bedside. I found that grandmamma was not so very ill,
only felt unable to get up to breakfast with us, and wanted some gruel
made as soon as possible.

"I've been waiting to hear some stir in the house," she said, "but
nobody seemed to be awake. Isn't it later than usual, girlie?"

I tiptoed over to grandmamma's mantel, and looked at her little French