children’s ears, and pushed them about, and read a novel--when she could get one--in an untidy room, with unkempt brothers and sisters round, and took no notice; neither the disobedience, nor the untidiness, nor even unjust reproof when it came her way having any particular effect upon her. Louisa did what she was obliged to do, and knew nothing about the ideal. But Agnes did not know what to make of herself. She was called by absurd nicknames of mock respect by the others--the ‘princess’ and ‘your royal highness,’ and so forth; and Mrs. Burchell seldom lost an opportunity of saying, ‘Agnes thinks she knows better, of course; but my old-fashioned ways are good enough for the rest of us.’ Thus year after year went over her young head, each one increasing her inappropriateness--the want of any fit place for her where she was. It was against the pride of the family that she should go out as a governess, and, indeed, she was not sufficiently educated herself to teach anyone else. She was at the very height of discomfort when there dawned upon her the prospect of doing something better in the ‘House,’ serving the poor, teaching the untaught. The Rectory was very full at the time, and her room was much wanted for an uncle who was coming to pay a visit; but yet, notwithstanding this great immediate convenience, there was much resistance made. Mr. Burchell’s Church politics were undecided. He was only entering upon the path of Ritualism, starting mildly under the guidance of a curate, with Saint’s-day services, and the beginning of a choir; and the name of a Sisterhood frightened him. As for Mrs. Burchell, her indignation knew no bounds. ‘Your duty is at home, you ungrateful girl, where your father and I have stinted ourselves to let you have everything that is comfortable. And now you go and leave me to work night and day among the children. I who have no strength for it----’ ‘There is Louisa, mamma,’ said Agnes; upon which Louisa cried with indignation, and asked if _everything_ was to be left upon her--and all the little boys and girls looked on from the corners with demure delight to watch the progress of the ‘shindy’ between Agnes and mamma. At last, however, after many scenes of this kind, Agnes was allowed to go free. She went to London, and set herself up with a modified uniform, and was as glad and triumphant as if it was the noblest vocation in the world which she had thus struggled into. Alas! it was not very long before the bonds of the prosaic earth again galled her, and the ideal seemed as far off as ever. Ignoble breakfasts and dinners and teas are as ignoble in a charitable ‘House’ as in an overcrowded Rectory; and here, too, there was gossip and unruliness, and want of discipline, and very poor success in the elevation of life out of its beggarly elements. To teach children their A B C is not an inspiriting occupation, even when the children are destitute and orphans. It was so hard to realise that they were so. The poor little