trum on the piano
whether they like it or not. You may learn drawing instead. And then I
shall expect you to read with me--good solid authors, you know, not
poetry and romances, which are all the girls of the present day seem to
care for."

"Thank you, aunt," said Edith. "I should like to learn drawing very
much."

"Wait a while," continued Miss Harley. "Perhaps you won't thank me when
you have heard all. I shall insist upon your learning plain needlework
in all its branches, and getting a thorough insight into cookery and
housekeeping. With your mother's delicate health there ought to be at
least one of the daughters able to take her place whenever it is
needful. Your sisters don't know much about the house, I daresay."

"Maude does," answered Edith, proud of her sister's ability. "Maude can
keep house well--even papa says so."

"And Jessie?"

"Jessie says her tastes are not domestic, and she has always had enough
to do teaching us, and looking after the little ones."

"And what did you do?" demanded Aunt Rachel. "You can't play; you can't
sew. By your own confession, you don't know the least thing about
household matters. It couldn't have taken you all your time to learn a
little French and read a few books. What _did_ you do?"

Edith blushed again.

"I--I went out, Aunt Rachel," she said at last.

"Went out, child?"

"Yes. Winchcomb is a beautiful country place, you know, and Alfred and
Claude and I were nearly always out when it was fine. We did learn
something, even in that way, about the flowers and plants and birds and
live creatures. Papa always said plenty of fresh air would make us
strong and healthy, and, indeed, we _are_ well. As for me, I have never
been ill that I remember since I was quite a little thing."

[Sidenote: We will Change all that!]

"My patience, child! And did Maria--did your mother allow you to run
about with two boys from morning till night?"

"It is such a quiet place, aunt, no one thought it strange. We knew all
the people, and they were always glad to see us--nearly always," added
truthful Edith, with a sudden remembrance of Mr. Smith's anger when he
found his cow in the potato field, and one or two other little matters
of a like nature.

"Well, I can only say that you have been most strangely brought up. But
we will change all that. You will now find every day full of regular
employments, and when I cannot walk out with you I shall send Stimson.
You must not expect to