e, you have heard, the murder is out.'

'The Mechanics' Institute, you mean,' said Anne, 'not Fido.'

'Not Fido,' said Elizabeth; 'but the rest of the story is out; I mean,
it is not known who killed Cock Robin, and I do not suppose it ever
will be; but the Mechanics' Institute affair is in the newspaper, and
it is off my mind, for I have had it all out with Papa. And, Anne, he
was so very kind, that I do not know how to think of it. He made light
of the annoyance to himself on purpose to console me, and--but,' added
she, smiling, while the tears came into her eyes again, 'I must not
talk of him, or I shall go off into another cry, and not be fit for the
reading those unfortunate children have been waiting for so long. Tell
me, are my eyes very unfit to be seen?'

'Not so very bad,' said Anne.

'Well, I cannot help it if they are,' said Elizabeth; 'come down and
let us read.'

They found Helen alone in the school-room, where she had been sitting
ever since breakfast-time, thinking that the penny club was occupying
Elizabeth most unusually long this morning.

'Helen,' said Elizabeth, as she came into the room, 'Papa knows the
whole story, and I can see that he is as much pleased with your conduct
as I am sure you deserve.'

All was explained in a few words. Helen was now by no means inclined
to triumph in her better judgement, for, while she had been waiting,
alone with her drawing, she had been thinking over all that had passed
since the unfortunate Friday evening, wondering that she could ever
have believed that Elizabeth was not overflowing with affection, and
feeling very sorry for the little expression of triumph which she had
allowed to escape her in her ill-temper on Saturday. 'Lizzie,' said
she, 'will you forgive me for that very unkind thing I said to you?'

Elizabeth did not at first recollect what it was, and when she did, she
only said, 'Nonsense, Helen, I never consider what people say when they
are cross, any more than when they are drunk.'

Anne was very much diverted by the idea of Elizabeth's experience of
what drunken people said, or of drunkenness and ill-temper being
allied, and her merriment restored the spirits of her cousins, and took
off from what Elizabeth called the 'awfulness of a grand pardoning
scene.' Helen was then sent to summon the children to their lessons,
which were happily always supposed to begin later on a Monday than on
any other day of the week.

The study door w