Then she offered to read a story to the others, but she found that this was distasteful even to her friend Sam; he thought it stupid to be read to, and said he should see after Hal; David trotted after him, and Susan and Anne repaired to the nursery to play with the little ones and the baby. She minded it the less, as they all had some purpose; but she had already been vexed to find that all but Davy preferred the most arrant vacant idleness to anything rational. To be sure, Susan sometimes, Bessie and Hal always, would read any book that made no pretensions to be instructive, but even a fact about a lion or an elephant made them detect wisdom in disguise, and throw it aside. She thought, however, she would make the most of Bessie, and asked whether she would like to hear reading, or read to herself. “To myself,” said Bessie; and there was a silence, while Miss Fosbrook, glad of the quiet, began reading her _Christian Year_. Presently she heard a voice so low that it seemed at a distance and it made her start, for it was saying “Christabel!” then she almost laughed, for it seemed to have been an audacious experiment, to judge by little Elizabeth’s scared looks and the glow on her cheeks. “May I say it sometimes when we are alone together?” she said timidly. “I do like it so much!” “If it is such a pleasure to you, I would not deprive you of it,” said Miss Fosbrook, laughing; “but don’t do so, except when we are alone, for your Mamma would not like me to seem younger still.” “Oh, thank you! Isn’t it a nice secret?” cried Bessie, clinging to her hand: “and will you let me hug you sometimes?” A little love was pleasant to Miss Fosbrook, when she was feeling lonely, and she took Bessie in her lap, and they exchanged caresses, to the damage of the collar that Miss Fosbrook’s sister had worked for her. “And you don’t call me silly?” cried Bessie. “That depends,” was the answer, with some arch fun; but Bessie had not much turn for fun, and presently went on— “And you saw Ida Greville?” “Yes.” “What did you think of her?” “I had not much opportunity of learning what to think.” “But her parasol, and her bird! Did you think her mama very silly to give her pretty things?” “No, certainly not, unless she wore them at unsuitable times, or thought too much about them.” “Ida has so many, she does not think of them at all. And she has shells, and such a lovely work-box, and picture-books; she has all she wants.” “Are you quite sure?” “Oh, yes, quite sure! and they don’t tease her for liking pretty things; her brothers keep quite away, and never bother about the schoolroom; but she learns Italian and German, and drawing and singing. Mr. Greville said something about our spending the day there. Oh! if we do but go! Won’t you, Miss Fosbrook?” “If I am asked, and if your Mamma would wish it.” “Oh, Mamma always lets us go, except once—when—when—” “When what?”