“Well, well,” Matilda answered, “don’t tell me about them, for I don’t want to hear; it is too bad that to-day, when we have no lessons, and are so happy to be home again, we do nothing but speak about faults, and make each other melancholy. See, the sun is out--it is quite fair now--let us go into the garden and have a nice race.” Leila’s face brightened. “It will be delightful,” she said, as they all three ran off together. CHAPTER II. Matilda’s faults and Leila’s fears seemed alike forgotten. They talked, and laughed, and ran races, till fatigue at last made a quieter mode of amusement desirable, even to Matilda. The arbour, which was in a sheltered spot at one end of the garden, was still almost in summer beauty,--the china-roses and many of the autumn flowers were yet in rich luxuriance, and the bright beams of the sun brought back the feeling of summer with all its gladness. As they seated themselves in the arbour, a robin flew down from a neighbouring tree, and timidly advanced within the entrance, then paused and seemed to fix its clear bright eye on Leila; she softly raised her hand, and pointed to her lips to enjoin silence; but Matilda made a sudden movement, and the next moment the robin was gone. Leila sighed. “Are you sorry I frightened it away?” Matilda inquired. “No,” Leila answered, cheerfully; “it was not that; you know the robin did not know us, it would have flown away the moment any of us had moved, and we could not have sat all day quite still; so never mind, Matilda, only it made me think----” she stopped and coloured. “What did it make you think of? Do tell me.” “It made me think that in the island the birds never were afraid of me; they never flew away, at least a great many of them did not; they knew me quite well there.” “And you are wishing to be back to the island,” Matilda exclaimed, reproachfully, “because the birds know you there; and you would leave Selina and me, who know you, I am sure, far better than the birds, and love you better too; I am sure I wish that--_that_ island----” Selina placed her hands before Matilda’s mouth. “Hush, hush, Matilda, don’t say it. You are working yourself up to be angry; you will be sorry afterwards; indeed, you will be sorry now;” and she pointed to Leila, who stood covering her face with her hands, while the tears trickled down between her fingers. Matilda flew to her; she tried to remove her hands, and kissed her repeatedly. “There, you see, I am off again, and worse than ever. Oh, this badness! will it never leave me? and, Cousin Leila, perhaps you will begin to hate me now!” Leila removed her hands from her face, and hastily brushed away her tears; then, throwing her arms round Matilda’s neck, she said,--“Oh, Matilda! never, never say that again, for I love you very much.” “You are so kind and good,” Matilda was beginning to say.