hall and made the plunge, one after the other,
into the soapy water. Ellen gurgled with delight. Two more journeys
deposited a shoe, a hair-brush and a small box, contents unknown, in the
watery receptacle. Then Ellen made a discovery which filled her small
soul with joy.

Just two days before, Charlotte had completed the set of colour drawings
which delineated the wall decoration of four rooms--a "den," a
dining-room and two bedrooms. They represented the work of the winter,
pursued under the exceeding difficulties of managing a household, and,
for the last three months, caring in part for a little child.

But Charlotte had toiled faithfully, with the ardour of one who, having
only a small portion of time to give to a beloved pursuit, works at it
all the more zealously. And she had gone on from one room to another, in
her designing, with the hope that if in one she failed to please those
upon whom her success depended, some one of the series might appeal to
them, and give her the desired place in their interest.

It was her intention on this very day, after luncheon should be over and
she should be free for a few hours, to make the much-dreaded,
wholly-longed-for visit to the great manufacturing house where she was
to show her wares.

The drawings lay in a pile upon Charlotte's table, ready to be wrapped.
Baby Ellen, spying the pile of drawings, with an edge or two of
brilliant colour showing, trotted gaily over to the table. She stood on
tiptoe and pulled at the corner nearest her. The drawings fell from the
table in a disordered heap on the floor.

The sight of them pleased Ellen immensely. She held one up and shook it
in her small fists, slowly and carefully tore a corner off it, and cast
the sheet down in favour of the next in order. This she tore cleanly in
two in the middle. The paper was tough, to be sure, but the little fists
were strong.

Then she remembered that seductive bath-tub. A patter of little feet, a
laugh of pleasure--"Da!" cried Ellen, gleefully---and the first sheet
was in.

Seven trips, pursued with vigour and growing hilarity, and Charlotte's
work had received its initial plunge into a new state of being. Four of
the drawings had been torn in two. The bath-tub was a mass of softly
blending colours.

Charlotte came running back up the stairs, her mind, which had been held
captive by a young caller, reverting with some anxiety to the small
person whom she had left, as she thought, shut u