foot, with such a veil! and Ethel, in her little white cap, looks as
if she might be Lucy Taylor, only not so pretty."

"Mamma thought the best rule was to take the dress that needs least
attention from ourselves, and will be least noticed," said Margaret.

"There is Fanny Anderson gone by in the fly with a white veil on!" cried
Mary, dashing in.

"Then I am glad Ethel has not one," said Flora. Margaret looked annoyed,
but she had not found the means of checking Flora without giving
offence; and she could only call Mary and Blanche to order, beg them to
think of what the others were doing, and offer to read to them a little
tale on Confirmation.

Flora sat and worked, and Margaret, stealing a glance at her, understood
that, in her quiet way, she resented the implied reproof. "Making the
children think me worldly and frivolous!" she thought; "as if Margaret
did not know that I think and feel as much as any reasonable person!"

The party came home in due time, and after one kiss to Margaret, given
in silence, dispersed, for they could not yet talk of what had passed.

Only Ethel, as she met Richard on the stairs, said, "Ritchie, do you
know what the bishop's text was? 'No man having put his hand to the
plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.'"

"Yes?" said Richard interrogatively.

"I thought it might be a voice to me," said Ethel; "besides what it says
to all, about our Christian course. It seems to tell me not to be out
of heart about all those vexations at Cocksmoor. Is it not a sort of
putting our hand to the plough?"

Dr. May gave his own history of the Confirmation to Margaret. "It was
a beautiful thing to watch," he said, "the faces of our own set.
Those four were really like a poem. There was little Meta in her snowy
whiteness, looking like innocence itself, hardly knowing of evil, or
pain, or struggle, as that soft earnest voice made her vow to be ready
for it all, almost as unscathed and unconscious of trial, as when they
made it for her at her baptism; pretty little thing--may she long be as
happy. And for our own Ethel, she looked as if she was promising on and
on, straight into eternity. I heard her 'I do,' dear child, and it was
in such a tone as if she meant to be ever doing."

"And for the boys?"

"There was Norman grave and steadfast, as if he knew what he was about,
and was manfully and calmly ready--he might have been a young knight,
watching his armour."

"And so he is,"