I have quite shaken down into my place, and am beginning to feel at home, and even happy. Everybody is kind to me, even Anne. She came to me one day with her eyes red with weeping, and looking so sad that I asked her what the matter was. So she burst out crying and told me that her baby sister was dead. I comforted her as well as I could, and seeing her heart was full, I drew her on to talk about the child, and its winning ways, and finally read her what our Lord says about little children. She left me, quite consoled, and now thinks nothing too much to do for me. As for Lady Betty, I have no great trouble with her, except that I have now and then to fight a battle with her selfishness, and assert myself a little. The poor thing has taken to me wonderfully. "I do love you!" she said to me, last night, as I was undressing her. "And so do I love you!" I answered. "Really?" said she, looking at me wistfully. "Really and truly?" "Really and truly!" I answered. "Why not?" "Mrs. Burley said I was so cross that nobody could love me," said she. "And I am cross, I know. I was cross to you this morning!" "Rather!" I answered, smiling. "Well, I am sorry!" she said, impulsively. "Will you love me if I am cross?" "Yes, my dear," said I: "only, Lady Betty, why should you be cross?" "I don't know—because I am so sick and so—you know, Margaret. I am not like other people, and I can't help being cross!" "Are you sure?" I asked. "Did you ever try?" She opened her great eyes as if such a notion had never occurred to her mind. But she answered frankly: "No, I don't know that I ever did." "Then you can't tell whether you can help it or not," said I. "All sick people are not cross. Phillis was not, neither was my little playmate and friend, Grace Forrester." "Tell me about them," said she. I am glad every time I find something new to talk about, and Lady Betty is never weary of asking questions about Phillis and Grace. "Well, I wish I 'could' help being cross," said she, finally. "How can I?" "You must ask the Lord to help you," said I. "And will He?" "Yes, if you ask Him earnestly. But then you must try hard not to let the cross words come out, even if you feel cross inside. If you don't say a word, you will get over it all the quicker." I noticed the next morning that she was not nearly so sharp with Mary, even when Mary hurt her by shaking her chair. I felt myself reproved at seeing the effort she made, thinking how ready I have all my life been to resent and retort. I have quite settled down, as I said, and everything goes on regularly. There are a good many ladies staying in the house, but I see none of them except by accident, as my room and Lady Betty's are quite by themselves, away from the company part of the house. If only I were not so homesick. _April 6._