s to look like a statue. Then there was the
drawing-room window, with the green Venetian blinds half drawn up, and
the bright colours appearing from inside. Lastly, he looked to the
nursery, where, oh, so often! he had watched for little Mildred's
white-robed figure to appear. How pleased she used to be, when he
stood where he was now! It was a sad, sad sever to Arthur's heart; only
everything seemed so dark and sad just now, that he had not thought much
about Mildred lately; but his eyes followed the sunlight on, far away,
until they rested on one fair green spot amongst the trees, where he knew
that a little green mound was covering his baby sister's form; and as all
the sad things that had happened so lately came into Arthur's mind, and he
thought of how different it had been a little while ago, he covered his
face with his hands, and the sobs came thick and fast.

So that when after a little while he came indoors, and wandered into the
room where he expected to find his mother, she saw that his eyes were red
with crying, and she knew that his heart was as sad as her own. But she
said brightly, "Arthur, I want you to help me. See, here are piles of your
things, and I want you to help me to count them over, and to put down how
many there are of each; that is what we call an inventory, and you must
have an inventory, of course." Arthur was quite pleased with this idea,
and presently he was very busy helping his mother. When it was all done,
when the last little garment was laid neatly in the box, and the nice
presents that had been given to him were stored away underneath, and
Arthur's mother was resting in her armchair in the firelight, he drew his
stool to her feet, and laid his head lovingly on her lap; and his mother
felt the hot tears fall on her hands, and she saw that the brown curls
were trembling with his crying, and she knew that the same thought was in
his mind that had just been aching in hers--"For the last time!"

But Arthur did not cry long, for he was trying hard not to make her more
unhappy than she was, and presently he stopped, and became very still, and
after a little while he said softly--

"Talk to me, mamma."

"What shall I say, dear?"

"Oh, you know, mother! you always know the right things to say."

"And yet, Arthur," said his mother, after a very long pause, and speaking
in a soft, low voice, as if she was afraid to speak louder, "I do not know
what to say now, dear; for I never could say