be without them,' exclaimed Sydney.

'Just horrid!' echoed Ella.

'They will be so pleased with you when they _do_ come,' observed Millie,
their elder sister, sarcastically.

'Oh!' said Syd, cheerfully, 'they know we can't be like dolls in a
shop-window. And we have really been good these days, haven't we, Ella?'

'Rather!' agreed she, emphatically.

'You were pulling each other's hair half an hour ago,' went on Millie,
and, longing to finish her story in peace, she rose, frowning, and left
the room, saying, 'The nicest game to play at would be that of being
quiet, good children, instead of troublesome little monkeys. I wonder
you never try it.'

The two, left alone, looked at each other, and burst into a merry laugh.
'What a funny game!' exclaimed Sydney. 'Shall we try it?'

'I don't know how to,' answered Ella gravely.

It did present some difficulty, almost as much, indeed, as being really
good, and the children silently reflected for some moments.

'We must sit perfectly still with folded hands, looking as stiff as
pokers,' said Syd at last.

'But sometimes good children _can_ do nice things,' observed Ella,
gravely.

'I wonder what?' said Syd, doubtfully.

'Well!--Well! sometimes, for instance, they give pleasant surprises.'

'Ella, you're a brick!' exclaimed her brother admiringly. 'That's a
splendid idea! Now let's think what surprise we can prepare for Father
and Mother when they arrive this evening.'

'Let's tidy the nursery,' proposed Ella.

'Too great a surprise,' Millie would have observed, had she been there
to hear. 'Too stupid,' exclaimed Sydney instead. 'Anybody can do that.'

'Let's learn a bit of poetry to recite when they come.'

'What nonsense!'

'Let's pretend to be other people's children, and when Father and Mother
are sorry, let's tell them it's not true.' This was a great stretch of
imagination for Ella, but Syd shook his head. 'They would never believe
it,' said he. Then there was silence for a moment, and light came.

'I've got it! I've got it!' shouted Syd, starting up excitedly. 'Let's
brighten up those old pictures in the gallery for them. We have time to
paint at least two of them before dark. Dingy old things! One of them is
older than our great-great-great-grandmother, and she's never been
touched, I believe. It's a shame to neglect old people like that. Hurry
up, Ella. Get out the paints; the oil ones.'

[Illustration: "Soon the two little mischief-makers were bu