"Hush, Molly, I don't wish for excuses. You were, Horace tells me and so does Marcia, intensely sorry and remorseful that night, and I trust God in his heaven heard your prayers for forgiveness, and that you have come back now, intending to turn over a new leaf." "Yes, father, of course. We won't any of us neglect dear, dear mother again," said Ethel. "We are most anxious to see her." "I have taken steps," continued Mr Aldworth, "to see that you do not neglect her. For the present she will have Nurse Davenant--" "Who is she?" asked Ethel. "The nurse I was obliged to call in to help Marcia. For the present Nurse Davenant will be with her day and night, and your province will be to sit with her and amuse her under Nurse Davenant's directions. But the doctor wants a complete and radical change, which your sister Marcia will explain to you. Any possible fluctuation on your parts, any shirking of the duties which you are expected to perform, will be immediately followed by your absence from home." Ethel looked up almost brightly. "There is your Aunt Elizabeth in the country. I have written to her and she will take one, two, or all three of you. She told me that you could go to her for three or four months. I do not think you will have much fun, or much liberty there. If you don't choose to behave yourselves at home, you go to your Aunt Elizabeth. I have come back specially to say so. And now, welcome home, my dears, and let us have no more nonsense." The father who had never in the least won his children's affection, left the room, leaving the three girls gazing at each other. "A pretty state of things," began Nesta, pouting. "Oh, don't," said Ethel. "Don't!" said Molly, who was nearer crying than either of them. "To think of Aunt Elizabeth--to have to go to her. Of course, it's all Marcia." "Of course it's all Marcia," said a voice at the door, and the three girls had the grace to blush hotly as they turned and looked at their sister. She wore that immaculate white which was her invariable custom; her dark hair was becomingly arranged; her face was placid. "My dear children, welcome home," she said affectionately, "and try not to blame your poor old Marcia too much. It is nice to see you. I have tea ready for you in the little summer parlour. You must be thirsty after your long walk; I thought Jim Carter was going to bring you back in the dogcart." "He couldn't," began Nesta. "He couldn't," interrupted Ethel; "he had to go to school for a special field day." "He would if he could," burst in Molly. "Well, anyhow, you are here, and I suppose the luggage is to follow." "Oh, yes; not that it matters," said Molly. "But it does matter, dear. Now come and have your tea."