elf out of it and a
marble tart for her.

Eva did not trust herself with the boys that morning; she literally
hated them. Still, she must master herself before she could master them,
and show once and for all that she was able to deal with the situation.
Shutting herself into the parlour, she sat quiet, trying to think and
plan, but in vain--she could not calm herself.

She took up a book and attempted to read and forget her annoyances in
losing herself in the story, but that, too, failed. Her trials were
countless. Not sufficient were to be found in the house, but that
interfering Mrs. Meadows must criticise her singing.

She opened the piano, determined to listen to herself and judge what
truth there was in the remark. She ran over a few scales, but was
interrupted by a rough-looking man shouting, "Stop that noise, and come
here! It'd be better if you looked after the bits of bairns than sit
squealing there like a pig getting killed. Don't stare so daft; where's
yer father?"

Eva rose in anger, but going up to the man, words died on her lips--her
heart seemed to stand still, for in his arms he held Babs, white and
limp.

"What has happened--is she dead?"

"Don't know; get her to bed." But Eva's hands trembled too much to move
them, so the old Scotch shepherd pushed her aside, muttering, "Yer
feckless as yer bonny; get out of the way." Tenderly his rough hands
cared for the little one, undressing and laying her in her bed.

"She's always after the chickens and things on our place, and I think
she's had a kick or a fall, for I found her lying in a paddock."

"Where were you, Eva? Hadn't you missed Babs? I thought at any rate she
would be safe with you," said her father.

Eva's remorse was real. Her mother dying, perhaps, the children
entrusted to her, and she--wrapped up in herself and her own
grievances--what use was she in the world? But oh! if Babs were only
spared how different she would be! If she died, Eva told herself, she
would never be happy again.

She went downstairs wretched and helpless, and once more found Jessie
Meadows in possession of the kitchen. "How is Babs?"

"Conscious, I think--but I don't know," and the girl buried her face and
wept passionately.

"There, there, Eva, we've all got to learn lessons, and some are mighty
hard. Take life as you find it, and don't make trouble. The change was a
big one, I know, but you'll find warm hearts and willing hands wherever
men and women are. I