we
did. At least, all my memories of that happy year at Beecham are mingled
with the bright, merry, gentle friend who made easy all the lessons that
could be easy, and gave me courage for those that _had_ to be hard; and
against whose shoulder I loved to nestle, and listen to Bible-stories
with those little hints in them which always set me thinking of my own
faults and duties, and made me long to do right, and be the good little
Christian girl she wished me to be.

Little reader, dear, are you making lines on anybody's forehead?

VII.

_HURRAH FOR THE HOLIDAYS!_

And yet, however pleasant lessons might be, there is no doubt that
holidays were pleasant things, too. Saturday afternoons were always
welcome, and all the weeks through we were planning what we would do
when they came. Of course these plans were sometimes upset by a rainy
day; but, even then, what with battledore and shuttlecock, painting and
spinning tops, we contrived to make out the time very happily.

And before us all the while was the bright, pleasant prospect of the
long summer holidays.

Every now and then during these happy months the thought of home came
across me, and sometimes one of mamma's letters would have in it so much
about Bobby and his play, and his prattle about Sissy's coming back,
that I grew a little home-sick and looked wistfully into grandmamma's
face as she read the letter. This would always make her say: "You don't
want to go home, little one? Aren't you very happy here with Lottie and
the boys? And you are getting on so nicely with your books, too; mamma
is so pleased to have you with so many little schoolfellows, and kind
Miss Grant to teach you! And we are going to have all kinds of pleasant
treats in the holidays. No, no, we must keep you another month or two!
Perhaps we will send you home when the cold weather comes!" So I ran
away again to make plans with Lottie about all the many things that must
be done the very first day of no lessons.

Then came the last time of history, and the last dreadful sums, and the
last copy written, and the last hard French words learnt, and then,
happiest of all, the last putting away of books and cleaning of slates!
It almost makes me take that long breath for joy even now only to
remember that happy day.

"And don't you think I'm the happiest of us all?" said Miss Grant; "I am
the only one really going home for the holidays!"

Which remark was a great relief to my little mi