-command, so far as speech went,
was miraculous. For her look--but then she knew the child was blind.

"Now," she said, "my pet will be good and not cry? It would do her
harm. We must be very happy to-day."

"Oh, yes." Then, in a fond whisper, "Please, I do so want to see
little Maud."

"Who?" with an absent gaze.

"My little sister Maud--Maud that is to take my place, and be
everybody's darling now."

"Hush, Muriel," said the father, hoarsely.

A strangely soft smile broke over her face--and she was silent.

The new baby was carried up-stairs proudly, by Mrs. Tod, all the boys
following. Quite a levee was held round the bed, where, laid close
beside her, her weak hands being guided over the tiny face and form,
Muriel first "saw" her little sister. She was greatly pleased. With a
grave elder-sisterly air she felt all over the baby-limbs, and when
Maud set up an indignant cry, began hushing her with so quaint an
imitation of motherliness, that we were all amused.

"You'll be a capital nurse in a month or two, my pretty!" said Mrs. Tod.

Muriel only smiled. "How fat she is!--and look, how fast her fingers
take hold! And her head is so round, and her hair feels so soft--as
soft as my dove's neck at Longfield. What colour is it? Like mine?"

It was; nearly the same shade. Maud bore, the mother declared, the
strongest likeness to Muriel.

"I am so glad. But these"--touching her eyes anxiously.

"No--my darling. Not like you there," was the low answer.

"I am VERY glad. Please, little Maud, don't cry--it's only sister
touching you. How wide open your eyes feel! I wonder,"--with a
thoughtful pause--"I wonder if you can see me. Little Maud, I should
like you to see sister."

"She does see, of course; how she stares!" cried Guy. And then Edwin
began to argue to the contrary, protesting that as kittens and puppies
could not see at first, he believed little babies did not: which
produced a warm altercation among the children gathered round the bed,
while Muriel lay back quietly on her pillow, with her little sister
fondly hugged to her breast.

The father and mother looked on. It was such a picture--these five
darlings, these children which God had given them--a group perfect and
complete in itself, like a root of daisies, or a branch of ripening
fruit, which not one could be added to, or taken from--

No. I was sure, from the parents' smile, that, this once, Mercy had
blinded their eyes, s