"Because, if we keep digging up our seeds to see if they've sprouted, or how many roots they have, we are in danger of destroying what vitality they have." The children all looked at each other with conscious smiles. "I lost all my beans that way," said Frank, Jr. "Shall I read the next verse, uncle?" "Oh, no, we have only touched a corner of the first one yet." As it turned out, this one verse served them for study an hour; an hour enjoyed by the children as well as the elder ones; and all who engaged in this exercise for the first time, were delighted with it. Mrs. Grey resolved to start a reading among her neighbors; Laura said she should do the same for hers; Margaret wondered if she could get courage to hold one with half a dozen young girls of her acquaintance, and found she could. Meanwhile, Mrs. Grey received a note from Mrs. Grosgrain, imploring her to come to her as soon as possible next morning. "How fortunate that I have kept up the acquaintance," she said, running over the note. "Now comes a chance to do them good." "Grandmamma," said Gabrielle, "you are not going to see those kind of people, and leave us, when we are having such nice times together?" "That kind of people, not those kind. And of course I am going, for they are in trouble." "It's too bad. Everybody thinks you are made to look after them. And I was in hopes you would finish reading that German story to me." "I suppose you don't include yourself among the 'everybody'?" said Frank, laughing. "But, papa, we had just got to the most exciting part." "I'll read the rest of it," said Margaret. "You'll want to be painting." "No; I don't paint in the holidays." "Oh, no, you don't." "I wonder if mamma ever thinks of herself one minute at a time," said Belle, as her mother retired to make preparations for the early expedition of the morrow. "It is a real sacrifice to her to lose a whole day of our visit; but she has trotted off to get ready, like a girl. And she'll be thrown away on those Grosgrains." "Yes, just thrown away," repeated Laura. "I wonder she doesn't see it." "I dare say one of them has put her thumb out of joint," said Margaret, feeling like anything but an angel towards the Grosgrains. "To think of leaving all of you to go to see such people. However, I don't know that it's any stranger than the way she lets herself be interrupted when she is writing." "Writing isn't her profession, you know," said Belle. "It never was. She used to write as long ago as when we were babies, and yet did not neglect us." "I am doing the same," said Laura. "I mean to go on writing, but Pug and Trot won't suffer from it. Of course scribbling is a mere recreation. My profession is to be a good wife and mother, as I am sure mamma's was. As to you, Margaret, you are a genius, and must make up your mind never to marry." "Thank you," said Margaret, dryly.