stairs in her pale grey draperies, a very incarnation
of the beautiful spring morning. Maud looked at her with ungrudging
admiration, then turned instinctively to see how Ned in his turn was
affected by the charming vision. She saw him flash one quick glance at
Lilias, and immediately turn on his heel and walk to the other end of
the hall, and throughout the walk to church she puzzled over the meaning
of such behaviour. Why should the sight of Lilias in her fresh beauty
disturb Ned's equanimity? Was it possible he had taken a dislike to
her, or felt a masculine disdain for her innocent vanity? Maud honestly
hoped not; for, though she desired above all things to possess Ned's
love for herself, it would be still necessary for her happiness that he
should accept as his own her five beloved sisters.

The day passed without any important developments. Maud went off to
teach her Sunday-school class in the afternoon, trying hard to conquer
the spasm of envy which overcame her at the sight of Lilias seated in
the garden hammock, swinging herself to and fro on the tips of her
little shoes, while Ned mounted guard by her side, and Agatha and
Chrissie paced lazily up and down. Maud was devoted to her "boys," but
on this occasion there was no denying that it was an effort to tear
herself from home, and she would gladly have welcomed a holiday. Her
path led through the garden, and as she approached the gate the hope
flitted through her mind that Ned might offer to accompany her on her
walk. It would be an opportunity for a quiet _tete-a-tete_, which was
rarely to be gained in the midst of such a large family; and if Mrs
Rendell's surmises were correct, surely--surely! But Ned did not even
rise from his seat beside the hammock: he only waved his hand and nodded
an unclouded farewell. The twelve mischievous little boys behaved with
unprecedented decorum that afternoon; for, in spite of their elfish
ways, they were devoted to Maud, and the ringleader sent round an
imperative message to the effect that "Teacher was bad, and must not be
worried."

It was characteristic of Maud also that she did not allow the lesson to
suffer because of her own depression, but rather put into it more than
the usual earnestness. She had always felt a heavy sense of
responsibility in taking this class, and every week, as she looked at
the eager young faces, she was thrilled with a fresh longing to help
them to grow up into strong, upright men,