ry about something naughty you did when you
were little. You know it would be a good lesson for us. It would show us
how awfully good one may learn to be, for, you know, you're awfully good
now."

"Yes, of course you are," said Fritz and Denny.

"Mother's _dedfully_ good," said Baby, poking up his face from her knee
where he had again perched himself, to kiss her. "Do tell him one story
of when you was a little girl, mother."

Mother's face seemed for a minute rather puzzled. Then it suddenly
cleared up.

"I will tell you a very little story," she said; "it really is a very
little story, but it is as long as I have time for just now, and it may
amuse you. Baby's packing put it in my head."

"Is it about when you were a little girl, mother?" interrupted Denny.

"Yes. Well, when I was a little girl, I had no mother."

The elder children nodded their heads. But Baby, to whom it was a new
idea, shook his sadly.

"Zat was a gate pity," he said. "Poor mother to have no mother. Had you
no shoes and stockings, and nothing nice to eat?"

"You sill----" began Denny, but mother stopped her.

"Oh yes," she said, "I had shoes and stockings, and everything I wanted,
for I had a very kind father. You know how kind grandfather is? And I
had a kind sister whom you know too. But when I was a little girl, my
sister was not herself _very_ big, and she had a great deal to do _for_
a not very big girl, you know. There were our brothers, for we had
several, and though they were generally away at school there seemed
always something to do for them--letters to write to them, if there was
nothing else--and then, in the holidays, there were all their new
shirts, and stockings, and things to get to take back to school. Helen
seemed always busy. She had been at school too, before your grandfather
came back from India, for five years, bringing me with him, quite a wee
little girl of four. And Helen was so happy to be with us again, that
she begged not to go back to school, and, as she was really very well
on for her age, grandfather let her stay at home."

"There, you see," whispered Celia, nudging Fritz. "It's beginning--it
always does--you hear how awfully good auntie was."

Mother went on quietly. If she heard what Celia said she took no notice.
"Grandfather let her stay at home and have lessons there. She had a
great many lessons to learn for her age besides those that one learns
out of books. She had to learn to be very active, an