Nelly! she had not much appetite for breakfast, and the first thing
she did when Mamma's dear face appeared at the door was to burst into
tears.

But such tears do good, and still more relief was the telling the whole
story, ending up with--

"Oh, Mamma, dear Mamma, I couldn't bear to think I had told you what was
_not quite true_. And Willie feels just the same."

For Willie had crept in too, looking very grave, and winking his eyes
hard to keep from crying.

It was all put right, of course; there was really no need for their
Mother to show them where they had been wrong. They knew it so well. And
Leigh did not get ill, after all.

Freda Kingley had had a lesson too, I am glad to say.

That very afternoon she and Hugh walked over to Halling Park, to "find
out" if Leigh was all right.

And this gave Mrs. Frere a good opportunity of showing the kind-hearted
but thoughtless children the risk they had run of getting themselves and
their little friends into real trouble--above all, by concealing their
foolish play, and causing Nelly and her little brothers for the first
time in their lives to act at all deceitfully.

"You will be afraid to let them play with us any more," said Freda very
sadly, "and I'm sure I don't wonder."

"No, dear," said her new friend. "On the contrary, I shall now feel sure
that I _may trust_ you and Hugh and Maggie."

Freda grew red with pleasure.

"You may indeed," she said; "I promise you we won't lead them into
mischief and--and if ever we do, we'll tell you all about it at once."

Mrs. Frere laughed at this quaint way of putting it.

"I don't think my children will be any the worse for a little more
'running wild' than they have had," she said.

"And we won't be any the worse for having to think a little before we
rush off on some fun," said Freda. "I really never did see before how
very easy it would be to get into telling regular _stories_, if you
don't take care."

[Illustration]

[Illustration: In the Chimney Corner]

by

Frances E. Crompton

"IT'S a welly anxietious thing, yoasting chestnuts is," Rupert said,
shaking his head seriously.

Rupert is only four years old, but he is very fond of grand words. He
speaks quite plainly and nicely, Nurse says (excepting the _v_'s and
_r_'s), only, of course, he cannot remember always just the shape of the
big words; but he uses much grander ones than I do, though I am nearly
six.

But he is the nicest little boy i