ther. He made us three come down to dinner with mums
and him, 'To cheer your mother up a little,' he said, though I shouldn't
have thought there was much cheering to be got out of Anne. In reality I
think he did it as much for Anne's sake as for mums's. And Hebe was
very sweet to Anne, for they don't _always_ get on so very well. Hebe
sometimes does elder sister too much, which is bad enough when one _is_
elder sister, but rather too bad when one _isn't_, even if it is the
real elder sister's own fault. But to-night Hebe sat close to Anne,
holding her hand under the table-cloth, and trying to make her eat some
pudding. (It was chocolate pudding, I remember, and mother gave us each
some.)

And when dessert was on the table, and the servants had gone, father
called Anne to him, and put his arm round her.

'My dear little girl,' he said, 'you must try to leave off crying. It
only makes mother more troubled. I can't deny that this loss _is_ a
great vexation: it will annoy grandfather, and--well, there's no use
telling you what you know already. But of course it isn't as bad as some
troubles, and even though I'm afraid I can't deny that it has come
through your fault, it isn't as bad as if your fault had been a worse
one--unkindness, or untruthfulness, or some piece of selfishness.'

Anne hid her face on his shoulder, and sobbed and choked, and said
something we couldn't hear.

'But still carelessness _is_ a great fault, and causes troubles without
end,' father went on. 'And in this case it was meddlesomeness too. I do
hope----'

'Oh, father,' said Anne, looking up, 'I know what you're going to say.
Yes, it _will_ be a lesson to me: you'll see. I shall be quite
different, and ever so much more thoughtful and careful from now.'

And of course she meant what she said.

But father looked grave still.

'My dear child, don't be too confident. You won't find that you can cure
yourself all at once. The force of bad habit is almost harder to
overcome in small things than in great: it is so unconscious.'

'Yes, father,' said Anne.

She understood what he said better than I did then; for she is really
clever--much cleverer than I am about poetry and _thinking_ sort of
cleverness, though I have such a good memory. So I remembered what
father said, and now I understand it.

After dinner we went up to the littlest drawing-room--the one mother
wanted for so long to refurnish prettily. There was a fire, for it was
only March,