“I _will_ try and get up,” said Caroline, repentantly. “I wish mamma had trained me to it when I was a child, as the Duchess of Kent trained the princess! I might have learned to like it by this time.” “Long before this,” said Constance. “Do you remember the good old saying, ‘Do what you ought, that you may do what you like’? Habit is second nature. Were I told that I might lie in bed every morning until nine or ten o’clock, as a great favour, I should consider it a great punishment.” “But I have not been trained to get up, Miss Channing; and it is nothing short of punishment to me to do so.” “The punishment of self-denial we all have to bear, Caroline. But I can tell you what will take away half its sting.” “What?” asked Caroline, eagerly. Constance bent towards her. “Jesus Christ said, ‘If any will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.’ When once we learn HOW to take it up cheerfully, bravely, for His sake, looking to Him to be helped, the sting is gone. ‘No cross, no crown,’ you know, my children.” “No cross, no crown!” Constance had sufficient cross to carry just then. In the course of the morning Lady Augusta came into the room boisterously, her manner indicative of great surprise. “Miss Channing, what _is_ this tale, about your brother’s having been arrested for stealing that missing bank-note? Some visitors have just called in upon me, and they say the town is ringing with the news.” It was one of the first of Constance Channing’s bitter pills; they were to be her portion for many a day. Her heart fluttered, her cheek varied, and her answer to Lady Augusta Yorke was low and timid. “It is true that he was arrested yesterday on suspicion.” “What a shocking thing! Is he in prison?” “Oh no.” “Did he take the note?” The question pained Constance worse than all. “He did not take it,” she replied, in a clear, soft tone. “To those who know Arthur well, it would be impossible to think so.” “But he was before the magistrates yesterday, I hear, and is going up again to-day.” “Yes, that is so.” “And Roland could not open his lips to tell me of this when I came home last night!” grumbled my lady. “We were late, and he was the only one up; Gerald and Tod were in bed. I shall ask him why he did not. But, Miss Channing, this must be a dreadful blow for you all?” “It would be far worse, Lady Augusta, if we believed him guilty,” she replied from her aching heart. “Oh, dear! I hope he is not guilty!” continued my lady, displaying as little delicacy of feeling as she could well do. “It would be quite a dangerous thing, you know, for my Roland to be in the same office.” “Be at ease, Lady Augusta,” returned Constance, with a tinge of irony she could not wholly suppress. “Your son will incur no harm from the companionship of Arthur.” “What does Hamish say?--handsome Hamish! He does not deserve that such a blow should come to him.”