o; perhaps that's putting it too strong. I
mean relations she doesn't want to have to do with, and I don't see why
she _should_ want to have to do with them. I shall take care, I know,
not to speak of them to her, for it would only annoy her, and it's no
business of mine. I do wish Frances hadn't taken them up so, she is so
silly sometimes.'

Frances on her side began to think she had gone too far. She glanced up
at Jacinth, and saw that her face was very grave.

'Jass,' she said, stealing up to her and speaking in a soft apologetic
tone, 'I'm very sorry for being cross. I think I _am_ rather tired,
though I did so enjoy myself this afternoon. Perhaps I'd better go to
bed, for I want to write most of my letter to mamma to-morrow. I want to
write her a good long one this time.'

'Very well,' said Jacinth as graciously as she could. 'I'm sure I
haven't meant to be cross either, Francie; but--I don't like the idea of
_any one_ coming between you and me.'

'Of course not; nobody _could_, never,' said Frances eagerly. 'Kiss me,
Jass. I really don't know what made me begin to cry; it was a mixture.'

Her voice trembled a little again. In terror of incurring Jacinth's
displeasure, Frances tugged at her pocket-handkerchief. Out came, for
the second time that day, the old Christmas card.

'What's that?' said Jacinth.

Frances smoothed it out and showed it her, reminding her of its history.

'I think it was that that made me feel rather--queer--this afternoon,
first,' she said. 'It brought things back so.'

'Well, dear, go to bed and have a good night. And to-morrow you'll be
fresh for a nice long letter to mamma in the afternoon, when we come
back from the children's service; there's always plenty of time. I want
to write her a long letter too.'

The letters were written, neither sister reading the other's. This was a
recognised rule, and a wise one, as it kept each child more directly in
touch with the absent mother, and also enabled her to judge of her
children's gradually developing characters. The very way in which the
same occurrence was related by each threw many an unsuspected light on
the 'Jacinth' and 'Frances' she had personally so sadly little knowledge
of.

And then for some days life at Number 9 Market Square Place, which had
been to a certain extent enlivened or disturbed, seemed to revert again
to its usual monotony. It was almost like a dream to Jacinth to recall
the strange visit to the quaint old h