tea for her, and finish the old year as cheerfully as
we can. And oh, Sylvia--your cold!--and you've been out on the balcony
without even a shawl."

No wonder these girls loved their aunt. Since their infancy their
grandmother and she had replaced to them the mother they had never
known--and the father who was but seldom able to be with them. And now
the grief, the inexpressible grief of having lost that dearest of
grandmothers had deepened and strengthened the affection of the three
for each other. Their life was somewhat lonely at present. Grandmother
had died in the south, at the pretty villa which, after so many years
passed in it, had come to seem "home." But she had wished her
grandchildren to return to England, their real home; there, before long,
to be rejoined by their father and elder brother at present in the East.
And they were spending this winter in Paris--"on the way," as it
were--for the benefit of Sylvia's drawing and Molly's music; and partly,
too, perhaps, because the old home in the south, _without_ "grandmother
dear," would have seemed too unbearably desolate.

The curtains were drawn, the fire blazed brightly, the lamp on the
_console_ at the side of the room threw a soft pleasant glow on the
dainty table set out temptingly for "afternoon tea," which,
notwithstanding their long residence in France, Auntie and her nieces
were very fond of. And with the little exertion of making all as bright
and pretty as they could, the girls' spirits had come back.

"It _does_ look nice," said Molly approvingly, as she stepped back
towards the door to judge of the general effect. "How I do wish dear
grandmother were here to see how neat and nice it looks. I really do
think, Sylvia, that I am getting to be very 'handy,' and to have a good
deal of taste in nice little ways--just what grandmother used to wish
for me;" and the candour and honesty in her fair face as she innocently
expressed her little bit of self-approval made Sylvia turn away so that
Molly should not see the smile of amusement it was impossible altogether
to repress. For Molly's open satisfaction with herself when it seemed to
her that she deserved a little encouragement, was one of the funniest
things about her still.

"Yes, dear, it does look very nice," said Sylvia. "And---- Can that be
Auntie's ring already?" she broke off. "How very quick she has been."

And almost before she had finished the words the door was thrown hastily
open, and Aunt