No; Madge preferred to be lazy and sit out of doors, admiring the orange trees—Mr. Holden also, and Ada. Jane thought she would like to go, and so the three started off. The cool shade of the great rooms was a delightful change after the glare of the gardens, and they sauntered through, admiring the pictures and carving and the beautiful views seen through the open windows. Jane was very much amused with an old Dutch picture representing a street scene with no sky; the perspective was so odd that she declared the people were walking on the wall like flies. She ran back to the other two to tell them to come and look at it, but they seemed so deeply engaged in conversation that she did not disturb them. “You can’t think how delightful it all is after the lonely life I have been leading for three years,” she heard. When they went out again to the others, the afternoon was growing cooler. They all went back to the boat, for they were now to row a little way in the direction of Twickenham and to land at a cottage, where tea was ordered beforehand. Jane rowed again, and by the time the cottage was reached was quite willing to let the old woman in charge make the tea as she was getting just a little tired. She did justice, however, as they all did, to the good things provided—the honey, which the old woman’s bees had made, the strawberries from the cottage garden, the home-made bread and delicious country butter. In the cool of the evening our merry party started to row back to Twickenham, Marion steering under Mr. Scott’s direction, who was rowing just in front of her. They just caught the train at Twickenham, and so ended a very happy day. (_To be continued._) SHEILA’S COUSIN EFFIE. A STORY FOR GIRLS. BY EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN, Author of “Greyfriars,” “Half-a-dozen Sisters,” etc. CHAPTER XXI. BROTHERLY COUNSEL. “Oscar, now that we are alone, now that nobody can interrupt us, I want to talk to you about my plan.” Sheila’s face was flushed, her big eyes were sparkling. She looked less the child, Oscar thought, and more the woman than when he had seen her last. He had been struck by this when he first saw her on board the boat. He had thought the same thing many times that day as the thundering express bore them from Plymouth to London. Now they were alone in Sheila’s room in the hotel where they were to spend the night. A big fire blazed on the hearth. The curtains were drawn, and brother and sister were alone together. The rumble in the streets below made a ceaseless murmur, but it was different from the rattle and roar of the train. They could talk at their ease now.