habitually, but then HE was not a public man.

"I understand that their father was in his study all the time,
with his windows open, but never noticed them at all. Of course,
he was lost in a book as usual. But I spoke to him about it
yesterday, when he called."

"How could you dare, Mrs. Marshall Elliott?" asked Susan
rebukingly.

"Dare! It's time somebody dared something. Why, they say he
knows nothing about that letter of Faith's to the JOURNAL because
nobody liked to mention it to him. He never looks at a JOURNAL
of course. But I thought he ought to know of this to prevent any
such performances in future. He said he would 'discuss it with
them.' But of course he'd never think of it again after he got
out of our gate. That man has no sense of humour, Anne, believe
ME. He preached last Sunday on 'How to Bring up Children.' A
beautiful sermon it was, too--and everybody in church thinking
'what a pity you can't practise what you preach.'"

Miss Cornelia did Mr. Meredith an injustice in thinking he would
soon forget what she had told him. He went home much disturbed
and when the children came from Rainbow Valley that night, at a
much later hour than they should have been prowling in it, he
called them into his study.

They went in, somewhat awed. It was such an unusual thing for
their father to do. What could he be going to say to them? They
racked their memories for any recent transgression of sufficient