Children all have their faults, and Winifred was no exception to this rule. Perhaps there were excuses to be made for this little girl, because her bad health had made it needful for her to be very quiet and rather idle, and because, with all her faults, she was always gentle and docile; but at the same time Winifred was selfish, and she was more idle than she need have been; and when she began to think whether people would miss her, she could not help remembering many little things which she did not quite like to think about. Charley and Ronald were very fond of their little sister, and would have liked to spend a good deal of their spare time in the nursery, which they had once shared all together; but since Winnie’s illness the nursery had been given up entirely to her service, and she had not failed to assert her right as mistress of her domain. It was often quite true that the noise the boys made at play tried her head and made it ache; but there were other days when she could have borne the noise quite well, only she did not care to let the boys in because she felt more inclined to be quiet. Then she never tried to do any little services for them, or for any one else, thinking nobody could expect it of her when she had so little strength. Winifred was a gentle, loveable child, in spite of her tendency to selfishness, and everybody seemed fond of her. Indeed, it was not every one who knew what her chief faults were. Charley and Ronald never thought for a moment that she was selfish, and would have been indignant if any one had called her so; but at the same time they knew it was no good ever asking Winifred to do anything for them. Perhaps Mrs. Digby and nurse knew best where the gentle child’s weakness lay; but it had not been very easy in her present state of health and spirits to make her see her own faults in the proper light. But as Winifred lay in bed thinking, it dawned upon her slowly that her going away would make very little difference to anybody in the world--that only mamma would miss her, and that only because mamma was mamma, not for anything her child had ever done for her. A resolution came into Winifred’s mind. “I will be different,” she said. “I will do something before I go to show them I am fond of them, and then perhaps they will miss me more. I should like to do something for a good many people. There are the boys, and the servants--and--and--Oh, I must think about it. I have a good deal of money: I will see what I can do.” Winnie turned over this idea very many times in her head, as she lay waiting for nurse to dress her. She rose late, and breakfast was not over till nearly half-past ten. “There doesn’t seem any time left to think this morning,” said Winnie, after she had taken a little walk in the garden with her mamma. “I feel tired now, I will watch the swallows a little, and think after dinner.” Presently nurse came in.