y was in such awe of me.
I'll set her free, then. But, Margaret, do you really think I ought to
give up my time to it?"

"Could you not just let them have a few drawings, or a little bit of
your company work--just enough for you not to annoy every one, and seem
to be testifying against them? You would not like to vex Meta."

"It will go hard, if I do not tell Meta my mind. I cannot bear to see
her deluded."

"I don't think she is," said Margaret; "but she does not set her face
against what others wish. As papa says of his dear little humming-bird,
she takes the honey, and leaves the poison."

"Yes; amid all that enjoyment, she is always choosing the good, and
leaving the evil; always sacrificing something, and then being happy in
the sacrifice!"

"No one would guess it was a sacrifice, it is so joyously done--least of
all Meta herself."

"Her coming home from London was exactly a specimen of that
sacrifice--and no sacrifice," said Ethel.

"What was that?" said Norman, who had come up to the window unobserved,
and had been listening to their few last sentences.

"Did not you hear of it? It was a sort of material turning away from
vanity that made me respect the little rival Daisy, as much as I always
admired her.

"Tell me," said Norman. "When was it?"

"Last spring. You know Mr. Rivers is always ill in London: indeed, papa
says it would be the death of him; but Lady Leonora Langdale thinks it
dreadful that Meta should not go to all the gaieties; and last year,
when Mrs. Larpent was gone, she insisted on her coming to stay with her
for the season. Now Meta thought it wrong to leave her father alone, and
wanted not to have gone at all, but, to my surprise, Margaret advised
her to yield, and go for some short fixed time."

"Yes," said Margaret; "as all her elders thought it right, I did not
think we could advise her to refuse absolutely. Besides, it was a
promise."

"She declared she would only stay three weeks, and the Langdales were
satisfied, thinking that, once in London, they should keep her. They
little knew Meta, with her pretty ways of pretending that her resolution
is only spoiled-child wilfulness. None of you quite trusted her, did
you, Margaret? Even papa was almost afraid, though he wanted her very
much to be at home; for poor Mr. Rivers was so low and forlorn without
her, though he would not let her know, because Lady Leonora had
persuaded him to think it was all for her good."

"What did the