"If I am a witch I learned it of you, mamma," said Belle. "Besides, Cyril helped me. He made the bedsteads, and the washstands, and the brackets, and picture frames. And the illuminations I made years ago. Don't you remember the mania I had for that sort of thing at one time?" "I had forgotten it. How nice these upholstered boxes are." "Yes, Cyril made those, too; and I had chintz left from a piece you gave me ever so long ago. Come, now, and see my room. It has been altered since you were here." "What a pleasant room! How has it been altered?" "Cyril took away the partition between it and the next one, and put up this linen-closet. See, isn't it nice. He did it all with his own hands, and then I painted it." "Not since the twins came?" "No, indeed. It was more than a year ago." "Are these illuminations, also, things of the past, too?" "Why, yes, mamma. Don't you remember trying to impress those truths on us children, and having these very illuminations hung at the foot of our beds, so that we could see them the first thing in the morning?" "Yes, I do, now you speak of it." "How many, many times I have read them!" "'WRONG LIVING LEADS TO WRONG THINKING.' "'WRONG THINKING LEADS TO WRONG LIVING!'" "Yes; one whose life is practically wrong will soon form a theory to adjust to it. And one who starts with a false theory will, inevitably, end with evil acts." "Soon after we came here, Cyril preached two sermons, taking those illuminations for his texts. There were several persons in the congregation who thought it was no matter what they believed, provided they were sincere. And there were others who took the ground that they were just as well off out of the church as in it, and so gradually slipped back into the world they had promised to forsake. But these are only specimens of the errors he has had to contend with--growing out of wrong thinking on the one hand, wrong living on the other. Still, we have some of the very salt of the earth here." During all this time Mabel had followed them about, keeping close to her mother's side, the perfect image of undemonstrative devotion. "It is you and Maud over again," said Belle, responding to Mrs. Grey's intelligent glance. "Mabel and I are just in love with each other. The other children will be home soon. Just look into their bureau-drawers. Now I have trained them as nearly alike as I could, and see the difference. Everything in Amy's possession is in apple-pie order; and unless I see to it every day, Alice keeps hers topsy-turvy." "Never mind. Habit is second nature. Ah, here they come!" Two smiling little girls came, somewhat shyly, forward; but grandmamma soon made them at ease with her. "Have you seen the babies?" was one of the first questions. "Yes, indeed. But they are asleep now." "Which do you think the prettiest, mamma's baby or Mabel's?" was the next. "Dear me! I didn't see any difference. They looked exactly alike to me." "How funny!"