"It is so sad for papa," resumed Nellie. "I can't," answered Ada. "We ought to try to do all we can for papa," persisted Nellie. "Oh, let me be, Nellie!" irritably exclaimed the miserable girl. "I must be let alone. I cannot bear it." "Very well, dearest; I will not trouble you any more." She stooped and kissed the sad, hopeless face, and went downstairs. As she passed the nursery, Isabel peeped out. "Nellie, can't you find us anything to do?" she said, whispering; "we are so miserable, and nurse doesn't like us to play." Nellie entered, and found the nurse—whose eyes were swollen with crying—holding the baby on her lap, and rocking him backwards and forwards in the most forlorn way. "Poor dear children," she said, speaking in a hushed voice; "we must find something to do. Supposing I bring you some work that I have ready cut-out for the missionary basket?" Mary looked surprised. "Oh, Miss Nellie," she said, "how can they bear to?" "Mamma would have wished them to be employed," answered Nellie, gravely and firmly; "she would have been so sorry for them, Mary." Mary burst into tears, and hugged the baby, while Nellie went for the work. "You can think and talk of where dear mamma is, darlings, just the same," she said when she came back. "And all the better that you are carrying out one of her wishes, to see the basket filled." The little girls looked up comforted, and she continued, "We cannot but be sad for many a long day, but we must all try to be busy in doing what she would wish us; must we not, darlings?" "Can I have some work?" asked Dolly, "to help mamma's basket?" "Yes; there is some just right for you; see." And so it was called from that time "Mamma's Basket." [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XVI. "THINE EYES SHALL SEE THE KING." THE afternoon of that long and sorrowful day wore away slowly to Nellie. She was sitting in the drawing room, Arthur and Tom being in the nursery, with some writing paper before her, but unable to begin the dreaded letter to her grandmamma, when, after a light tap, the door opened, and she looked up in the face of Christina. Nellie threw herself into her arms and was strained in a close embrace, and she found it impossible longer to keep up the self-command which she had imposed upon herself all day. Christina placed her on the sofa, and sat down by her side, only whispering, "Poor Nellie, what you must have gone through." Nellie held her hand, and felt it a comfort to be able to cry, which Christina understood; for she made no effort to talk, but smoothed back her hair and stroked her hand in silence. So they remained for nearly an hour, till Nellie had wept all her tears away. Then she sat up and looked round the room with a shiver. "Where is Ada?" asked Christina. "On her bed; she has not moved or eaten to-day." "Oh, Nellie!" "It is so dreadful; but papa says 'let her alone.'" "I will go to her. Do you think I could have a cup of tea to take with me?"