'it was so cruel, to sacrifice her to those old
people.'

'Was it cruel? Was it wrong?' said John, almost to himself. 'I hope not.
I do not think I could have decided otherwise.'

'Oh, have I said anything wrong? I don't properly know about it. I
fancied Arthur told me--I beg your pardon.

'I do not think Arthur knew the circumstances; they have never been
much talked of. I do not know whether you would care to listen to a long
story; but I should like you, as far as may be, to understand her, and
consider her as your sister, who would have been very fond of you.'

'And do you like to talk of it?'

'That I do, now,' said John; her delicate, respectful sympathy so
opening his heart, that what had been an effort became a relief.

'I should be so glad. Baby is asleep, and I came down to stay with you.
It is very kind of you.'

'You are very kind to listen,' said John. 'I must go a long way back, to
the time when I lost my little sisters.'

'Had you any more sisters?' said Violet, startled.

'Two; Anna and another Theodora. They died at four and two years old,
within two days of each other, while my father and mother were abroad
with my aunt.'

'What was their illness, poor little things?' anxiously asked Violet.

'I never knew. We all of us have, more or less, a West Indian
constitution; that accounts for anything.'

'How old were you? Do you remember them?'

'I was five. I have no distinct recollection of them, though I was very
fond of Anna, and well remember the dreariness afterwards. Indeed,
I moped and pined so much, that it was thought that to give me young
companions was the only chance for me; and the little Fotheringhams were
sent for from the parsonage to play with me.'

'And it really began then!'

'Yes,' said John, more cheerfully. 'She was exactly of my own age, but
with all the motherly helpful kindness of an elder sister, and full of
pretty, childish compassion for the little wretched solitary being that
I was. Her guarding me from the stout riotous Percy--a couple of years
younger--was the first bond of union; and I fancy the nurses called her
my little wife, I know I believed it then, and ever after. We were a
great deal together. I never was so happy as with them; and as I was a
frail subject at the best, and Arthur was not born till I was nine years
old, I was too great a treasure to be contradicted. The parsonage was
the great balance to the home spoiling; Mr. and Mrs. Fotheringham wer