s youngest
daughter, who had some serious faults, and had not yet entered the
service of the Lord Jesus Christ.

"Evelyn, dear, you too, as my pupil and a sort of adopted daughter, must
share the reward of good behavior," she said, with a tenderly
affectionate look at the fatherless niece of her son-in-law.

Evelyn flushed with pleasure; but more because of the loving look than
the promise of reward. "Dear Grandma Elsie, how very kind and good you
always are to me!" she exclaimed feelingly, her eyes filling with tears
of love and gratitude.

"Dear child, whatever I have done for you has always been both a duty
and a pleasure," Mrs. Travilla returned, taking the hand of the little
girl, who was standing by her side, and pressing; it affectionately in
her own.

"Well, Eva," said Rosie, lightly, "you can calculate to a cent what
you'll have for benevolence, for you're sure to earn the quarter every
day of your life."

"Not quite, Rosie," Evelyn answered in her gentle, refined tones, "I am
liable to fall as well as others, and may astonish both you and myself
some day by behaving very ill indeed."

"I certainly should be astonished, Eva," laughed her Aunt Elsie. "I am
quite sure it would be only under great provocation that you would be
guilty of very bad behavior; and equally certain that you will never
find that at Ion."

"No," Evelyn said, "I have never received anything but the greatest
kindness there."

"And you are so sweet-tempered that you would never fly into a passion
if you were treated ever so badly," remarked Lulu, with an admiring,
appreciative look at her friend, accompanied by a regretful sigh over
her own infirmity of temper.

"Perhaps my faults lie in another direction; and how much credit do
people deserve for refraining from doing what they feel no temptation to
do?" said Evelyn, with an arch look and smile directed toward Lulu.

"And those that tease quick tempered people, and make them angry,
deserve at least half the blame," Rosie said softly in Lulu's ear,
putting an arm affectionately about her as she spoke. "I don't mean to
do so ever again, Lu, dear."

"I'm sure you don't, Rosie," returned Lulu, in the same low key, her
eyes shining, "and it's ever so good in you to take part of the blame of
my badness."

The visitors went away shortly after tea, Violet carried her babies off
to bed, and the older three of the Woodburn children were left alone
with their father.

They clustered