many.'

'For taking the two smallest children to bathe in the pond before
breakfast, wasn't it?' said Alie.

'Oh yes--after having half killed their valuable Persian cat by feeding
it with cheese-cakes, or something of the kind,' added Mrs. Vane.

But she could not help smiling a little. Alie had already seen that she
was softening; whenever mamma called Bridget 'Biddy,' she knew it was a
good sign.

'There is one comfort,' said the elder sister, in her motherly way,
'Biddy has a _terribly_ kind heart. She is never naughty out of--out of
_naughtiness_. But oh, mamma, let us wait a minute; the sunset is
beginning.'

And so indeed it was. Over there--far out, over the western sea, the
cold, quiet, winter sea, the sun was growing red as he slowly sank, till
he seemed to kiss the ocean, which glowed, blushing, in return. It was
all red and gray to-night--red and gray only, though there were grandly
splendid sunsets at Seacove sometimes, when every shade and colour which
light can show to our eyes shone out as if a veil were drawn back from
the mysterious glory we may but glimpse at. But the red and gray were
very beautiful in their way, and the unusual stillness, broken only by
the soft monotonous lap, lap, of the wavelets as they rippled themselves
into nothing on the sand, seemed to suit the gentle tones of the sky.
And some way off, nearer the sea, seeming farther away than they really
were, as they stood right in the ruddy trail of light, were two little
figures, both looking black by contrast, though in point of fact only