I sat for some time contemplating the low white gate and the row of beehives. I was rather pleased with the idea I had started; a word in season sometimes brings a rich harvest. I thought some time of the tiny workers in their brown livery bringing in their rich stores for the afflicted children; and it seemed to me that the offering would be a sweet savour to the Master who loved children. I fell into a reverie over it; I thought how much might be done for others with little cost if people would only think; it is want of thought that clogs usefulness. Great sacrifices are so seldom demanded from us; we are not now called upon to forsake all that we hold dear and follow the Christ—little daily duties, small hourly renunciations, pleasures given up for some cheerful loving service: these are the free-will offerings that all may yield, only the people must “give willingly.” The morning passed pleasantly in the sunny orchard; when the children tired of their play we went back to the house that they might have their noonday sleep. I was sitting alone in the nursery, mending Reggie’s pinafore, when I heard the clatter of noisy footsteps in the corridor, and a moment after the nursery latch was lifted without ceremony, and Rolf peeped in. He had a droll, half-ashamed expression on his face, but it bore no trace of yesterday’s ill-humour. “May I come in, if you please, Mrs. New Nurse?” “My name is Miss Fenton, as I told you yesterday; or, you may call me Nurse if you choose. Yes; you may come in and talk to me if you like, Master Rolf; but you must be very quiet, as your little cousins are asleep.” “What precious babies they must be to sleep in the day!” he observed, disdainfully, as he planted himself without ceremony on the window seat. “I sit up until ten o’clock every night; sometimes I will not go to bed until mother goes.” “‘Early to bed and early to rise, Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,’ Master Rolf.” “Wealthy means rich, doesn’t it? Well, Juddy said I shall be a rich man some day. I have got father’s watch and sword now, only mother locks them up until I am bigger. You are not rich, eh, Miss Fenton?” peeping into my face rather maliciously. “No, Master Rolf,” I returned, quietly. “Oh, I knew that you are only a nurse; I heard mother and Aunt Gay talking about you last night. Mother said you were a poor sort, and she wondered at Violet’s infatuation. She thought you stuck up and disagreeable, and not much to look at; a plain young woman, and very disrespectful. There, now!”