dancing and jumping and calling to Smut when I met you as if there was
nothing the matter! I suppose you had forgotten all about your frock
already.'

Mrs. Vane's voice was rather sharp as she spoke thus to the little girl.
It sounded quite differently from the bright sweet tone in which she had
greeted them. And it did not seem to suit her to speak sharply. She was
very pretty and sweet-looking, and she seemed young to be tall Alie's
mother; indeed, people often said they looked more like sisters: stout,
sturdy little Bridget was quite unlike them both.

Rosalys looked up at her mother anxiously. She could not bear her to be
troubled, and though she was sorry for Bridget, she was vexed with her
too. She slipped her arm inside Mrs. Vane's and drew her on.

'It's too cold to stand still, mamma dear,' she said. 'Let us walk on to
that beautiful smooth piece of sand--it's rather stony just here. Biddy,
take care of Smut.'

That meant, 'You may stay behind and keep out of the way a little.'
Biddy had no objection to do so.

'Come, Smuttie, stay by me,' she said coaxingly to the little shaggy
black dog. Smut was very fond of Bridget, who had a very big heart for
all dumb animals. He wagged his tail and looked up in her face with
inquiring sympathy, for he saw quite well that Biddy was in trouble.
This was nothing new; many and many a time had the little girl buried
her tearful face in his rough coat and sobbed out her sorrows to him.
They were never very big sorrows really, but they were big to her, and
rendered bigger by the knowledge in her honest little heart that they