all turned down a side street, while Alice went on toward
Staplehurst. They were deeply attached to each other, this brother and
sister, and all the more as they found little sympathy outside their
mutual affection. Roger was quite aware of Alice's home troubles, and
she of his. They could see but little of each other, for while Mr
Benden had not absolutely forbidden his brother-in-law to enter his
house, it was a familiar fact to all parties that his sufficiently sharp
temper was not softened by a visit from Roger Hall, and Alice's
sufferings from the temper in question were generally enough to prevent
her from trying it further. It was not only sharp, but also uncertain.
What pleased him to-day--and few things did please him--was by no means
sure to please him to-morrow. Alice trod on a perpetual volcano, which
was given to opening and engulfing her just at the moment when she least
expected it.

Roger's home troubles were of another sort. His wife was dead, and his
one darling was his little Christabel, whose few years had hitherto been
passed in pain and suffering. The apothecary was not able to find out
what hidden disorder sapped the spring of little Christie's health, and
made her from her very babyhood a frail, weak, pallid invalid, scarcely
fit to do anything except lie on a sofa, learn a few little lessons from
her father, and amuse herself with fancy work. A playfellow she could
seldom bear. Her cousins, the three daughters of her Uncle Thomas, who
lived about a mile away, were too rough and noisy for the frail child,
with one exception--Justine, who was lame, and could not keep up with
the rest. But Justine was not a comfortable companion, for she
possessed a grumbling temper, or it would perhaps be more correct to say
she was possessed by it. She suffered far less than Christie, yet
Christie was always bright and sunny, while Justine was dark and cloudy.
Yet not even Justine tried Christie as did her Aunt Tabitha.

Aunt Tabitha was one of those women who wish and mean to do a great deal
of good, and cannot tell how to do it. Not that she realised that
inability by any means. She was absolutely convinced that nearly all
the good done in the Weald of Kent was done by Tabitha Hall, while the
real truth was that if Tabitha Hall had been suddenly transported to
Botany Bay, or any other distant region, the Weald of Kent would have
got along quite as well without her. According to Aunt Tabitha, the o