"There is a train at eleven," said Monica, who had been studying the time-table, "a very quick one, which arrives at Osmington by one-thirty. The Drurys go home to-day," she added, "but not until the three-fifteen train." "Oh, Barnes shall go with them," interposed Mrs. Beauchamp, "and return here this evening. We would all go to-day, but the packing could not be done in time for the eleven o’clock train. There is less than an hour, now; so, Monica, you help Olive and Elsa to get their things together, and Barnes shall pack their boxes at once. Cheer up, my dears," she added, to the poor twins, who were already collecting their books and needlework, which were lying about on the different tables; "let us hope for the best; and, very likely, you will find a change for the better has taken place when you reach home." "Elsa, darling, do let Jesus comfort you," whispered Monica, a few minutes later, when they were alone in the girl’s bedroom, "I am asking Him to. And He can make dear Mrs. Franklyn better, you know, if it is His will." Monica spoke shyly; she was unaccustomed to giving Elsa advice--Elsa, who had always appeared almost perfect to hasty, impetuous Monica, who had, by no means, found it easy work to follow in the footsteps of the meek and lowly Saviour. "Oh, Monica, I have been asking Him to help me bear it!" said Elsa, "and I don’t want to grieve Him by fretting. But, oh, you can’t think what it would be like to lose my precious mamma!" And the tears rained down the poor child’s face. "No," said Monica, with unconscious pathos, "I can hardly remember how I felt when I lost mine. It is so long ago now, I have nearly forgotten it." "Monica, will you go on praying, all day, that God will make her better, but if He sees--the other--would be best--for her--that He will help us bear it?" The words, so hard to utter, came falteringly, and the elder girl, with wet eyes, gathered Elsa into her strong, young arms, and while she pressed a kiss upon the downcast brow, she murmured: "Yes, Elsa, darling, and we know He will." A hasty scramble to get all packed, a short drive to the station crowded with visitors now making their way homewards at the close of their holiday, and then a few last words were said, after the twins, accompanied by Barnes, had ensconced themselves in one of the fast-filling compartments. Mrs. Beauchamp, at Elsa’s request, had not accompanied them, so only Monica--her sunburnt face, usually so bright, now wearing a sad expression--stood on the platform waiting to bid them farewell. "The Drurys, Monica," said Olive, as she leant out of the window just as the train began to move, "they won’t know. Tell them."