ures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all._"

"I wonder if He really made that dreadful horsey man," thought Nell, as
she looked out of the window.

Boris smothered a sigh as he reflected again over the problem which had
often before puzzled his small head--Why God, when he made everything so
beautiful, had forgotten to give Jane Macalister a beautiful temper in
school hours?

The singing was followed by the Bible reading, and then lessons began.
Molly and Nora acquitted themselves admirably, as was their wont--Nell's
dark grey eyes grew full of interest as she read the fascinating story
of the "Field of the Cloth of Gold" in her history book--Kitty worked at
her sums with fierce persistence and tried to fancy herself at
boarding-school, going up rapidly to the top of her class, while Boris
made more mistakes than ever over his dictation, and inked his fingers
unmercifully.

"What was the use of fussing over such a stupid, useless thing as
spelling?" This was his thought of thoughts.

The day was a warm one. Jane Macalister was icily cold, however, as
unapproachable as an iceberg. Boris watched her with anxiety. He knew
well that there was no chance for him and Kitty; they would both be
punished for being late for prayers.

Oh, dear, oh, dear; _why_ was Jane so unbeautiful, so unapproachable in
school hours?

"I know she'll keep Kitty and me in during the whole of the play hour,"
he muttered to himself. "I'm certain of it, because the tip of her nose
is getting red; that's a sign that she's worried, and when she's worried
she's twice as bad as she is at any other time."

"What noise is that? Oh!--I say--Miss Macalister----"

Jane Macalister was always spoken to in this correct fashion during
school hours.

"I say, there's a visitor!" burst from the eager lips of the little boy.

He started to his feet as he spoke, upsetting the ink-pot over his own
copybook and also over Kitty's white-frilled pinafore.

"Boris, you are incorrigible!" exclaimed Jane. "You lose all your
conduct marks for the week, and must stay indoors for an hour and learn
a piece of poetry after lessons."

Boris got very red and tried to smile. The blow had fallen, so he wasn't
going to whimper over it. He would stand up to his punishment like a
man. He meant to be a soldier some day, and felt exactly now as if he
were facing the guns. He met Elinor's full, troubled grey eyes, and
seated