"All here, solemnly engaged," answered Kat, unfolding herself from the big chair to make a seat for mother. "And _just_ think," cried Kittie, with a lurch that pretty near tipped her out of the window. "Olive----" "Has done wonders," interrupted Beatrice. "Be still all of you! Let's not tell mama yet." Mrs. Dering laughed cheerily, at the sudden popping of a secret into the air, but announced that supper was ready, at which there was such a stampede as only a lot of hungry, healthy girls can make, and the sitting-room was left dark and still. You see there were six of them--five strong bright girls, and one little lame sister, to laugh and sing, and make that big, roomy, comfortable, old home happy. Beatrice, seventeen; Ernestine, sixteen; Olive, fifteen; then Katherine and Kathleen or Kittie and Kat, twelve, and lastly, little Jean, with her flower-like, patient face and poor crooked little back. To help and guide them, was the dear, loving mother who called them her 'steps;' and the strong, helpful father, who romped and played, or read and studied with them and called Kittie and Kat 'his boys;' Olive his 'right hand man;' Ernestine, 'his picture;' Beatrice, his 'little woman,' and Jean his 'little pansy.' So now that you know them a little better, let us go into the dining-room and see what they are doing. Meetings at the Dering table are always lively ones, "Good for digestion and spirits," said papa Dering, so everybody talked and laughed and ate heartily, and went away without sour faces or sour stomachs. To-night, though, there is a change. Mr. Dering had a remark for each of the girls as they came in, then lapsed into silence, and stirred his coffee absently. Even Mrs. Dering could not hide a little anxiety, though she tried to be gay and interested in the girls' talk, as usual. With Olive's words fresh in their minds, the rest closely watched the faces of both parents, and each girl had thoughts and made plans, in every way characteristic of their respective selves. Mr. Dering presently broke a silence by asking to be excused, as he must go back to the store--two most unusual things; for he always sat and talked at supper 'till all were through, and rarely ever let anything take him away from an evening at home; so no wonder the meal was shortened, and the party broke up. "Oh how nice!" cried Jean, as they returned to the sitting-room, where in their absence, a bright fire had been built in the grate, and filled the room with a warm rosy glow. "Here's my seat." "We'll tell our secrets by the first fire of the season," said Mrs. Dering, as the girls all followed Jean's example, by pulling their chairs into the circle of warmth and light. "I thought it was so chilly this evening that firelight would be more cosy and cheerful than a lamp. Now then, who shall begin?" "Oh you, please," cried Kittie. "We are so anxious." Every face warmly seconded her words, so Mrs. Dering began, after a moment's silence.