"I won't ever, ever do it again," he said tremulously. "No, you must be Fan's big brave brother that she can trust to take care of her and shield her from harm. I don't believe my Cyril would be such a mean coward as to hurt a little girl or anything smaller or weaker than himself, except for that naughty 'didn't think!'" "But I didn't hurt her, mother." "Yes, my son, you hurt her feelings very much." He considered a moment. "Yes, I s'pose that's so," he said slowly, "Fan, I'll tell you; I'm real sorry; and you may be jailor now and lock me up in that wardrobe." "No, no! there must be no more such doings," quickly interposed mamma. "Dess I wouldn't do such sing!" said Fan, wiping away her tears with her chubby little hand. "What a room!" said Mildred, shutting the last bureau drawer and turning to look about her; "every chair out of place and turned on its side, the bed all tumbled and bits of paper scattered over the carpet." "Pick them up, children, and try to keep out of mischief for the rest of the day. I must go back to my sewing," Mrs. Keith said, following her aunt, who had already left the room. Mildred staid behind to assist in setting it to rights. "You naughty children! really I could almost enjoy spanking you all round," she exclaimed directly, as she came upon the fragments of a delicate china vase belonging to herself, and a valued letter from a friend torn into bits. "Milly," said Cyril solemnly, "s'pose we should get deaded some day; wouldn't you be sorry?" "Suppose I should get deaded," she retorted, "wouldn't you be sorry for spoiling my pretty things?" She was ashamed of her outburst nevertheless, and the child's words haunted her all the afternoon. It was evening; two candles burned on the sitting-room table, and beside it sat Mildred and her mother still busily plying their needles. The rest of the family were in bed and Miss Stanhope and the seamstress had gone to their own homes hours ago. "My child, put up your work for to-night," said Mrs. Keith; "You are looking weary and depressed; and no wonder, for you have had a hard day." "A busy day, mother; but not so hard as yours, because I have had a walk in the fresh air while you have been stitch, stitching from early morning till now. And if you don't forbid it I shall sit up and work as long as you do. I consider it one of the eldest daughter's privileges to share her mother's burdens." "My dear girl! you are a comfort to me! I thank God for you every day," the mother said, looking at her with dewy eyes and a beautiful smile, "but because you are young and growing, you need more rest and sleep than I do. So go, daughter, and never mind leaving me."