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 invitation. "Go, by all means," said Molly. "You know Virgy has a friend with her, a Miss Reed. I want you to see her and tell me what she's like." "I fear you'll have to see her yourself to find that out; I'm no portrait painter," Violet said with a smile as she ran lightly away to order the carriage and see to her own toilet and Rosie's. They were simple enough; white dresses with blue sash and ribbons for Vi, ditto of pink for Rosie. Miss Reed, dressed in a stiff silk and loaded with showy jewelry, sat in the drawing-room at Roselands in a bay-window overlooking the avenue. She was gazing eagerly toward its entrance, as though expecting some one. "Yes, I've heard of the Travillas," she said in answer to a remark from Virginia Conly who stood by her side almost as showily attired as herself, "I've been told she was a great heiress." "She was; and he was rich too; though I believe he lost a good deal during the war." "They live splendidly, I suppose?" "They've everything money can buy, but are nearly breaking their hearts just now, over one of their little girls who seems to have some incurable disease." "Is that so? Well, they ought to have some trouble as well as other folks. I'm sorry though; for I'd set my heart on being invited there and seeing how they live." "Oh they're all gone away except Vi and Rosie and the boys. But may be Vi will ask us there to dinner or tea. Ah here they come!" "What splendid match horses! What an elegant carriage!" exclaimed Miss Reed, as a beautiful barouche, drawn by a pair of fine bays, came bowling up the avenue. "Yes, they've come, it's the Ion carriage." "But that's a young lady Pomp's handing out of it!" exclaimed Miss Reed the next moment, "and I thought you said it was only two children you expected."