met him at the front door, looking much frightened, and asking for Ada. ‘Oh! Maurice, her face and neck are burnt, and badly. She does scream?’ ‘Did I not tell you not to meddle with the powder?’ said Maurice. ‘Indeed, I could not help it,’ said Phyllis. ‘Stuff and nonsense! It is very well that you have not killed Ada, and I think that would have made you sorry.’ Phyllis with difficulty mentioned Hannah’s desire that a surgeon should be sent for: Maurice went to look for Ben, and she followed him. Then he began asking how she had done the mischief. ‘I do not know,’ said she, ‘I do not much think I did it.’ ‘Mind, you can’t humbug me. Did you not say that you touched the powder?’ ‘Yes, but—’ ‘No buts,’ said Maurice, making the most of his brief authority. ‘I hate false excuses. What were you doing when it exploded?’ ‘Coming into the room.’ ‘Oh! that accounts for it,’ said Maurice, ‘the slightest vibration causes an explosion of that sort of rocket, and of course it was your bouncing into the room! You have had a lesson against rushing about the house. Come, though, cheer up, Phyl, it is a bad business, but it might have been worse; you will know better next time. Don’t cry, Phyl, I will explain to you all about the patent rocket.’ ‘But do you really think that I blew up Ada?’ ‘Blew up Ada! caused the powder to ignite. The inflammable matter—’ As he spoke he followed Phyllis to the nursery, and there was so much shocked, that he could no longer lord it over her, but shrinking back, shut himself up in his room, and bolted the door. Nearly an hour passed away before the arrival of Emily, Jane, and Mr. Saunders. Phyllis ran down, and meeting them at the door, exclaimed, ‘Oh! Emily, poor Ada! I am so sorry.’ The sisters hurried past her to the nursery, where Ada was lying on the bed, half undressed, and her face, neck, and arm such a spectacle that Emily turned away, ready to faint. Mr. Saunders was summoned, and Phyllis thrust out of the room. She sat down on the step of the stairs, resting her forehead on her knees, and trembling, listened to the sounds of voices, and the screams which now and then reached her ears. After a time she was startled by hearing herself called from the stairs _by below_ a voice which she had not heard for many weeks, and springing up, saw Mr. Devereux leaning on the banisters. The great change in his appearance frightened her almost as much as the accident itself, and she stood looking at him without speaking. ‘Phyllis,’ said he, in a voice hoarse with agitation, ‘what is it? tell me at once.’ She could not speak, and her wild and frightened air might well give him great alarm. She pointed to the nursery, and put her finger to her lips, and he, beckoning to her to follow him, went downstairs, and turning into the drawing-room, said, as he sank down upon the sofa, ‘Now, Phyllis, what has happened?’