cannot ask permission of papa or mamma."

"No, of course not; we must go to Mr. Daly for that now."

"I don't like it," she answered coloring; "it does seem as if nobody has
the right to control us except our father and mother, and our
grandparents."

"Only that they have given him the right for the present."

Mr. Daly came in at that instant, and Vi, placing the note in his hand,
said "Will you please to look at this, sir, and tell me if I may accept
the invitation?"

"I see no objection," he said, returning it with a kindly smile, "provided
your lessons are well recited."

Mr. Daly was an excellent teacher, thoroughly prepared for his work by
education, native talent for imparting the knowledge he possessed, love
for the employment and for the young creatures entrusted to his care.

The liking was mutual, and study hours were soon voted only less enjoyable
than when mamma was their loved instructress.

Molly occupied her place in the schoolroom as regularly as the others. It
adjoined her apartments, and her wheeled chair required a very slight
exertion of strength on the part of friend or servant to propel it from
room to room.

Molly had already made herself a very thorough French and German scholar,
and was hoping to turn her ability to translate to good account in the way
of earning her own support; for there was no pauper instinct in the girl's
noble nature, and able and willing as her cousin was to support her, she
greatly preferred to earn her own living, though at the cost of much
wearisome labor of hand and brain.

She was not of those who seem to forget that the command, "Six days shalt
thou labor and do all thy work," is equally binding with that other, "In
it (the seventh day) thou shalt not do any work," This lesson--that
industry is commanded, idleness forbidden--was one which Elsie had ever
been careful to instil into the minds of her children from their earliest
infancy; nor was it enough, she taught them, that they should be doing
something, they must be usefully employed, remembering that they were but
stewards who must one day give an account to their Lord of all they had
done with the talents entrusted to them.

"Is Dick well? was it a nice letter?" Violet asked, leaning over her
cousin's chair when lessons were done.

"Oh very nice! he's well and doing famously, I must answer it this
afternoon."

"Then you will not care for company?"

"Not particularly. Why?"

Vi told of her inv