uld not understand why she was so disinclined to talk; even the dear
little house of which she was so soon to be the mistress failed to
interest her.

'You have told me twice already that you got the drawing-room carpet a
great bargain, and only paid four pounds ten for the table in the
dining-room,' she broke out. 'Can't we take that for granted in future?'

'I forgot I'd told you; I thought it was the mater,' he said; 'and I
say, Ella, how about pictures? Jessie's promised to do us some
water-colours--she's been taking lessons lately, you know--but we shall
want one or two prints for the dining-room, shan't we? You can pick them
up second-hand very cheap.'

'Oh yes, yes; anything you please, George!... No, no; I'm not cross, I'm
only tired, especially of talking about the house. It is quite finished,
you know, so what _is_ there to discuss?'

During the days that followed, Flossie devised an ingenious method of
tormenting Ella; she laid out her pocket-money, of which she had a good
deal, on the most preposterous ornaments--a pair of dangling cut-glass
lustres, bead mats, a trophy of wax fruit under a glass shade, gaudy
fire-screens and flowerpots, all of which she solemnly presented to her
suffering sister. This was not pure mischief or unkindness on Flossie's
side, but part of a treatment she had hit upon for curing Ella of her
folly. And at last the worm turned. Flossie came in one day with a cheap
plush and terra-cotta panel of appalling ugliness.

'For the drawing-room, dear,' she observed blandly, and Ella suddenly
burst into a flood of tears.

'You are very, very unkind to me, Flossie!' she sobbed.

'I!' exclaimed Flossie, in a tone of the most innocent surprise. 'Why,
Ella, I thought you would be charmed with it. I'm sure _George_ will.
And, you know, it will go beautifully with the rest of your things!'

'You might understand ... you might see----'

'I might see what?'

'How _frightfully_ miserable I am!' said Ella, which was the very
admission Miss Flossie had been seeking to provoke.

'Suppose I _do_ see,' she said; 'suppose I've been trying to get you to
act sensibly, Ella?'

'Then it's cruel of you!'

'No it's not. It's kind. How am I to help you unless you speak out? I'm
younger than you, Ella, but I know this--_I_ would never mope and make
myself miserable when a word would put everything right!'

'But it wouldn't, Flossie; it is too late to speak now. I can't tell
him how I really feel-