before. I'm sure it's not right."

But the curl, in Aldith's lip made her ashamed of herself.

"You're just twelve, Marguerite;" the young lady said calmly:
"you're not a bit more than twelve. You'd better get a roll again,
and a picture-book with morals. I'll ask Andrew to buy you one
and a bit of cord, too, to tie you in your high chair in the
nursery."

Such sarcasm was too much for Meg. She promised hastily and
unconditionally to be on the spot at the time mentioned, and fled
away up the path to obey the summons of the wildly clanging
tea-bell.

But for the two intervening days her secret hung upon her like a
burden of guilt, and she longed inexpressibly for a confidante
who would advise her what to do at this distressing issue. Not
Judy: that young person was too downright, too sensible, too much
of a child and a boy--she would never dare to tell her anything of
the sort. She could fancy the scorn in her sister's large clear
eyes, the ringing laughter such a tale would evoke, the scathing,
clever ridicule that would fall on her shrinking shoulders. Not
Esther: her very position as stepmother precluded such an idea,
and, besides that, the General's gums were gradually disclosing
wee white double pearls, and his health thereby was affected,
and causing her too much anxiety to allow her, to notice Meg's
oppression of mind.

By the night decided upon, the child had worked herself up into a