ul, however, is she not?" said Eleanor. "I can
stand anything if a child is that; but deceitfulness----" Her fair
young brow contracted, and a slightly hard expression came over her
face.

"I hope so," said her mother; "I have no reason to think otherwise. But
she has an extraordinary vivid imagination, and she is curiously
impressionable--the sort of child that might be worked upon to imagine
what was not true."

"Still truth is truth. There can be no excuse for a falsehood," said
Eleanor.

"Mother is too indulgent and gentle in some ways," she thought. "I must
look after Maggie, and be firm with her."

"But gentleness encourages truth, where severity might crush it," said
her mother softly, as if she had heard Eleanor's unspoken words.

Miss Campbell made no reply, but she pressed her mother's hand.

"And the day after to-morrow, mother dear, you will be leaving us!" she
said regretfully.

"Yes, but only for a month; and now that you are here, your father and I
can leave with such lightened hearts. I feel sure that the change to St.
Abbots will do me good now," replied Mrs. Campbell cheerfully.

CHAPTER II

TO-MORROW--the first part of it at least--found the excitement scarcely
less great than on the day of Miss Campbell's arrival. For there were
the presents to distribute! A delightful business to all concerned, as
Eleanor had invariably succeeded in choosing "just what I wanted more
than anything," and the hugs she had again to submit to were really
alarming, both as to quantity and quality. And among all the children
none hugged her more than Maggie.

"It's like Santa Claus morning--goodies too," she exclaimed, dancing
about in delight.

"Don't talk nonsense, you silly child," said Patty, who was of a prosaic
and literal turn of mind. "You wouldn't believe, Miss Campbell," she
went on, turning to her elder sister, "would you, that Maggie last
Christmas went and told Flop that Santa Claus was a real old man, and
that he really came down the chimney, and poor Flop wakened in the
night, quite frightened--screaming--and so mamma said Maggie was never
to speak about Santa Claus again, and you _are_ doing so, Maggie," she
wound up with, virtuously.

"But it's so pretty about Santa Claus, and so funny, isn't it, Miss
Campbell?" said Maggie, peering up into Eleanor's face with her bright,
restless, gray-green eyes.

"Nothing can be funny or pretty that mamma tells you not to talk about,
Maggie," said Mi