leasure of her
grandmother's visit. By letting her feelings have their own way she could
spoil everyone's pleasure. By putting her own feelings aside, and
thinking only of others, she could, to a large extent, make their
pleasure.

"How odd things are," she sighed aloud. "No one is of very great
importance, yet everyone matters to someone----"

"To lots of someones as a rule," said her father, rising and joining her
at the window. "And that is one of the most serious and most blessed
facts of life. I think that almost the saddest thing human beings can
feel is that no one is the better or the happier for their existence."

"But can we help it, father? If I had no relations, nor anyone belonging
to me----"

"You would still have all the world to 'mother,' Audrey. There is always
someone, close at hand too, needing help and sympathy. Always bear that
in mind, my child wherever you may be. Now I am going up to talk to your
mother. I think we had better ask granny to come next week."

"Next week!" thought Audrey. "At any rate then I shall have no time to
worry about my play or anything else before granny comes, whatever I may
do after."

"Oh Mary," she sighed as she took a turn at the ironing while she told her
the news, and Mary washed the dinner things, "I am dreadfully nervous.
I wish we had a cook and a parlourmaid, and I wish we were able to buy all
the best things that can be got. Granny does so like to have nice food
and nice everything. She has always been accustomed to it."

But Mary, never having seen her master's mother, much less lived with her,
was not so filled with fears as was Audrey herself.

"Well, miss, we'll do our best--and we can't do more. And after all,
people don't come to stay with you for what you can give them, but because
they want to see you."

And with that thought Audrey tried to allay her nervous fears, and face
the coming visit with only happy anticipations.

Old Mrs. Carlyle tried to face the coming visit with happy anticipations
only; but, with a lively recollection of her last visit to her son's home
still impressed on her mind, she could not help it if her feelings this
time were a little mixed. Her longing though to see her son and his wife,
and her favourite grand-daughter, overcame every other; and the warmly
affectionate terms in which they invited her, sent a glow to her lonely
old heart.

"There is something better than comfort," she thought to herself,