"'Twan't all luck, neither," answered Aunt Sarah. "Rhoda was one that did well all she undertook. When she was working, she gave all her mind to it, and when she was nursing, she gave all her mind to that. I never see a girl so handy in a sick-room. As for her education, she'd a had one any way. She was always learning everything she could. She used to watch my cooking, and get me to show her how to make nice things; and when Hannah was doing up the girls' white dresses, Rhoda used to look at her till she learned her ways. It was just so about everything else. If you were in the kitchen a year, you'd never improve a bit, because you wouldn't try; and it would be the same if you were in school." Isa, for her part, was as happy as Rhoda, though in exactly a contrary way. Freedom from hard work and from the dread of fault-finding was a thing utterly new in her experience. It was thought best that she should have some pretence of employment, and she was set to reviewing her English grammar, and to taking lessons in drawing, for which she really showed some talent. These, with the daily Bible lesson, formed the whole of her school-duties, and they were made as easy to her as possible. For it became more evident every day that Isa's mind had lost its spring. Probably that last four weeks of music-lessons had been the last feather on the camel's back. She could hardly commit the easiest lesson, and stumbled painfully over the simplest reading. Her great enjoyment lay in the daily Bible lessons, to which she listened with interest, though she hardly ever answered a question. "You love your Bible, don't you, Isa?" Mrs. Marshall said to her one day. "Yes, ma'am," answered Isa, looking up, with a sweet smile. "I don't understand it all very well, but it makes me feel quiet and happy, and it seems so good to have time to read as much as I like. I don't think He will mind my not understanding, do you?" "No, my love. He will see and know, and teach you to know all that is necessary." Isa had one other great enjoyment, and that was in embroidering a wonderful worsted chair cover for her mother. She had always loved needlework, but Mr. Ferrand considered that plain work was only fit for servants, and ornamental needlework was utterly unworthy the attention of rational beings. Now, however, it was enough that anything gave pleasure to Isa, and Mr. Ferrand had himself purchased a handsome and expensive work-box for his daughter, with the materials for her work, and had told Rhoda to spare no expense in supplying whatever Isa wanted in that line. He seemed anxious that the two girls should be on a perfect equality, for he had at the same time presented Rhoda with an equally beautiful writing-desk, to Isa's delight, no less than Rhoda's. One day, as Rhoda was busily practising a duet with Matty Sellers, there came a ring at the bell. "What made you start so?" asked Matty. Rhoda laughed: