rebellion and disgrace, during the brief reign of a very strict daily
governess, long ago at Dublin. Her reason and sense approved of all
that was set before her, and much of it was pleasant and amusing; but
this was the more provoking by depriving her of the chance of
resistance or the solace of complaint. Moreover, with all her time
at Aunt Jane's disposal, how was she to do her great thing?
Valetta's crewel battle cushion had been reduced to a delicious
design of the battle of the frogs and mice, drawn by Aunt Ada, and
which she delighted in calling at full length 'the Batrachyomachia,'
sparing none of the syllables which she was to work below. And it
was to be worked at regularly for half an hour before bed-time.
Trust Aunt Jane for seeing that any one under her dominion did what
had been undertaken! Only thus the spontaneity seemed to have
departed, and the work became a task. Fergus meanwhile had set his
affections on a big Japanese top he had seen in a window, and was
eagerly awaiting his weekly threepence, to be able to complete the
purchase, though no one but Valetta was supposed to understand what
it had to do with his 'great thing.'

It was quite pleasant to Gillian to have a legitimate cause of
opposition when Miss Mohun made known that she intended Gillian to
take a class at the afternoon Sunday-school, while the two children
went to Mrs. Hablot's drawing-room class at St. Andrew's Vicarage,
all meeting afterwards at church.

'Did mamma wish it?' asked Gillian.

'There was no time to mention it, but I knew she would.'

'I don't think so,' said Gillian. 'We don't teach on Sundays, unless