my hair like this, and at my
age, have no intention of altering it," and leaving Mrs. Tully
protesting vehemently at such false modesty, she went past her, into
her own room, and shut the door.

She sat down by the window to sew. But her hands soon fell to her lap,
and with her eyes on the backs of the neighbouring houses, she
continued her interrupted reflections. First, though, she threw a
quick, sarcastic side-glance on her mother and herself. As so often
before, when she had wanted to pin her mother's attention to a subject,
the centre of interest had shifted in spite of her efforts, and they
had ended far from where they had begun: further, she, Johanna, had a
way, when it came to the point, not of asking advice or of faithfully
discussing a question, but of emphatically giving her opinion, or of
stating what she considered to be the facts of the case.

From an odd mixture of experience and self-distrust, Johanna had,
however, acquired a certain faith in her mother's opinions--these
blind, instinctive hits and guesses, which often proved right where
Johanna's carefully drawn conclusions failed. Here, once more, her
mother's idea had broken in upon her like a flash of light, even though
she could not immediately bring herself to accept it. Maurice and
Ephie! She could not reconcile the one with the other. Yet what if the
child were fretting? What if he did not care? A pang shot through her
at the thought that any outsider should have the power to make Ephie
suffer. Oh, she would make him care!--she would talk to him as he had
never been talked to in his life before.

The sisters' rooms were connected by a door; and, gradually, in spite
of her preoccupation, Johanna could not but become aware how brokenly
Ephie was practising. Coaxing, encouragement, and sometimes even
severity, were all, it is true, necessary to pilot Ephie through the
two hours that were her daily task; but as idle as to-day, she had
never been. What could she be doing? Johanna listened intently, but not
a sound came from the room; and impelled by a curiosity to observe her
sister in a new light, she rose and opened the door.

Ephie was standing with her back to it, staring out of the window, and
supporting herself on the table by her violin, which she held by the
neck. At Johanna's entrance, she started, grew very red, and hastily
raised the instrument to her shoulder.

"What are you doing, Ephie? You are wasting a great deal of time," said