"That's the way she looked to my mind and I drew her so. Perhaps it's because she has no sisters," answered Olive, spoiling the meaning conveyed in the words by the sarcasm that crept into the voice, and Bea drew back, hurt and half inclined to be angry; but with her, a tender heart always went ahead of a quiet temper and ruled, so she walked to the door, saying as she went out: "You better put up your things; supper's nearly ready." After tea Olive whispered something to Mr. Dering, and to everyone's curiosity, they went off together to the library. This was only a small room, but very cozy, with a dark green carpet on the floor, the chairs of various shapes, with the previous covering worn threadbare, neatly covered with green cloth, a cover of like shade on the table, and one side of the wall well packed with books; for Mr. Dering having never been wealthy, had only by care, and much time, collected the books which now formed a faultless, small library. It was Ernestine's idea, having the room green, and bestowing upon it the important sounding name of "library," for it suited her fancy by sounding stylish, and pleased her artistic eye by being all of one shade; so after much patient drilling, she got them all to call it "library," excepting Olive, for that sister, disapproving of Ernestine's notions in general, did not like to yield to this one, and insisted on calling it "study." Well, in here came Mr. Dering, Olive following with a light, saying, as she placed it on the table: "Papa, this is to be a secret." "Oh! oh! and you expect me to keep it?" "Of course, at least a part of it," and Olive looked so serious, as she came and stood by his chair, that he became attentive in an instant, saying heartily:--"Well, go on dear, I'm listening, and promise to keep the secret." Olive hesitated an instant, but she always hated to show any feeling, especially of embarrassment, so pitched into her subject abruptly, with her eyes down. "You know, papa, that we know that you have been troubled with the hard times, and wanted to help you." "Yes, Olive, and I can never forget the way that my girls and their dear mother anticipated, and have done to help me." "No," Olive answered, almost impatiently. "We have done nothing; it most all falls on mama; she helps us with the work, and as for 'Prince,' of course, we loved him, but we girls are able to walk, it's only mama, who is denied; so all the help it is, she gives, not we." "Then we should love her all the more, dear," said Mr. Dering; and the tenderness and love that shone in his face would have gladdened the heart of the wife of thirty years, had she seen it. "I don't think we can ever love her enough," answered Olive heartily; then hesitated again, while her hand went slowly into her pocket, and came slowly out again. "Hold your hand, papa."