ircumstances that is something, too.
But so much going out has been at a great sacrifice of time and comfort
to us all. I am tired of it. We won't speak of it now, however; I must
finish my letter." For to tell the truth, Rosie's face did not look
promising.

"Don't send a refusal till you have spoken to Arthur, Graeme. If he
wishes you to go, you ought, you know."

"I am by no means sure of that. Arthur does not very often go to these
large parties himself. He does not enjoy them, and I see no reason why
I should deny myself, in so bad a cause."

"But Graeme, you have enjoyed some of them, at least. I am sure I have
always enjoyed them."

"Yes, I have enjoyed some of them, but I am not sure that it is a right
kind of enjoyment. I mean, it may be too dearly bought. And besides,
it is not the party, as a party, that I ever enjoy. I have had more
real pleasure in some of our quiet evenings at home, with only--only one
or two friends, than I ever had at a party, and--, but we won't talk
about it now," and she bent over her letter again. She raised her head
almost immediately, however.

"And yet, Rosie, I don't know why this is not the best time to say what,
for a long time, I have meant to say. We have not been living a good or
wise life of late. Do you mind, love, what Janet said to us, the night
before we came away? Do you mind the charge she gave us, to keep our
garments unspotted till we meet our father and mother again? Do you
think, dear, the life of pleasure we have been living, will make us more
like what our mother was, more like what our father wished us to be--
more fit to meet them where they are?"

Graeme spoke very earnestly. There were tears in her eyes.

"Graeme," said Rose, "do you think it wrong to go to parties--to dance?
Many good people do not."

"I don't know, love. I cannot tell. It might be right for some people,
and yet quite wrong for us. Certainly, if it withdraws our minds from
things of importance, or is the cause of our neglecting duty, it cannot
be right for us. I am afraid it has been doing this for us all lately."

Rosie looked grave, but did not reply. In a little, Graeme added,--

"I am afraid our last letters have not given much satisfaction to Mrs
Snow, Rosie. She seems afraid for us; afraid, lest we may become too
much engrossed with the pleasant things about us, and reminds us of the
care and watchfulness needed to keep ourselves unspotted from the
wo