Juliet's laugh at her sister's despairing attitude, as she pored over her German exercise.

'I don't see why you are to laugh,' exclaimed Myra, and she turned round petulantly; 'you have neither of you begun German yet; when you have, see if you won't feel just the same.'

'It is not feeling, but looking,' said Juliet. If I were going to be hung, I would n't look so crestfallen.'

"Wait till you are tried,' was the retort, as Myra gave a push to her writing-desk, which nearly upset the ink.

Juliet rushed to the rescue of the German exercisebook. Annette carefully removed her drawing to a distant part of the room.

6

Good-bye to my chance of a mark to-day,' exclaimed Juliet; there is a blot on the left ear of the left hand figure, in the left hand corner. Look, Myra!' She held up the drawing good-humouredly, but Myra was not to be soothed.

'It would not have happened if you had not laughed at me,' she said; but you and Annette are always making fun of me-and from younger sisters I won't bear it. Everyone makes fun of me,' she added in a lower tone.

'Only when your collar is awry,' said Juliet, provokingly.

'Or when your cuffs do n't match,' added Annette, from the distant corner where she had settled herself.

Myra glanced at herself in the glass over the mantelpiece; then, without vouchsafing a reply,

went and stood before it, and tried to put her collar straight.

'You had better let me do that for you, Myra,' said a voice which had not been heard before.

A very pretty girl, tall, and dressed in good taste but in the height of the fashion, stood in the doorway. There could not have been a greater contrast to Myra. Her smile was so sunny-her voice so cheerful-her movements so graceful-even Myra's ill-humour was mollified by her soothing tone and manner. 'Mamma wants you in the drawing-room, so you must let me put you to rights,' she added, as Myra seemed at first inclined to resist any interference with her toilette.

" I can't go; I have not finished my exercise, and Herr Werther will be here at three,' exclaimed Myra, the cloud returning again to her face. Who is in the drawing-room?'

'The Verneys; at least Mrs. Verney and a niece. Mrs. Verney wants the niece to walk with you, only she is too shy to come into the school-room with so many strangers; and you are just her age, so you are to go and make acquaintance.'

'It is very unkind in you, Rosamond, not to bring her in here yourself; you know I can't bear going into the drawing-room; and Mrs. Verney always looks me over from head to foot, and talks to mamma about me as if I was a doll.'

Rosamond only replied by gently forcing her sister into a chair, arranging the collar, smoothing the ruffled hair, taking off the unmatched cuffs, and sending Juliet for another pair.

Myra submitted, but neither cheerfully nor gratefully. There was an expression in her face which, if the cause had been more important, might have called for sympathy. It was not annoyance, nor, at that moment, temper. It was a look of inward troublerestlessness; in an older person it might have portended a settled despondency; and it did not leave her even when Rosamond pronounced that she was all right now, and Juliet came forward and declared that she looked quite a different person-almost pretty. The only change then was in her manner. It had been natural before-it was constrained now; and as she left the room, Juliet's comment to Annette was 'I think it is worse when she is on her best behaviour, because then she is affected.'

Myra was correct in her account of Mrs. Verney. She did look at her from head to foot as she entered. Myra is much grown, I think,' was her remark addressed to Mrs. Cameron; and she really is more like Rosamond than I ever thought she would be.'

The voice was so gentle and refined, it was wonderful what made the speech so unpleasing. Perhaps it was the sharp criticising glance which accompanied the words.

Myra does very well when she chooses to take pains with herself,' said Mrs. Cameron, languidly.

My dear, do n't drag that chair so awkwardly.Madame Dupont was in despair about her for some time, but I think I see some improvement. Place your chair by that young lady, Myra, and make acquaintance with her; she is Mrs. Verney's niece.'

Myra moved her chair. The two girls looked at

each other but neither uttered a word, beyond the first necessary question.

6

Myra has such a very awkward way with strangers,' observed Mrs. Cameron, in an under tone. Rosamond, do try and help her.'

'Rosamond is so sweet and kind; she makes everything go smoothly,' said Mrs. Verney. And certainly it did seem as if Rosamond possessed some magical influence, for she had no sooner made a commonplace remark, than the spell was broken. Catharine Verney, who had just come from a London school, began to pour out anecdotes-very amusing, if not always in good taste; and Myra listened, and asked questions, and ventured at length to propose an adjournment to the school-room.

'Don't drag one foot behind the other,' said Mrs. Cameron, as Myra walked across the room; and before the door was closed, she added, 'it is so odd that she should be awkward and affected too.'

Then, Mrs. Cameron was not fond of Myra, and treated her unkindly? Not at all. Mrs. Cameron only gave utterance to her thoughts, without considering their possible effect. And she said what was quite true. Myra was affected at times, under certain circumstances. She was unquestionably awkward, and had, moreover, a very unpleasant temper-extremely irritable, and very often passionate. No mother, anxious as Mrs. Cameron was for her child's good, and perhaps it should be added for the world's approbation, could help being fretted by her. But there was another, a very special cause for vexation in this instance. Myra was such a contrast to

Rosamond, and Rosamond was Mrs. Cameron's stepdaughter. It was scarcely in human nature to see the grace and sweetness of manner which marked the one, without feeling mortified at the deficiencies of the other. To do Mrs. Cameron justice, she never showed her annoyance ill-naturedly. She had adopted Rosamond and her two brothers as her own children, when Rosamond was six years old, and had always treated them with affectionate consideration. The claims of her own children had never been allowed to interfere with theirs. And she had been in one respect well repaid. The first family as her step-children were often called-were remarkably good-tempered and manageable. The boys, indeed, had early passed beyond her control; they had been sent to a public school, and now Godfrey, having gone through college, was studying for the bar, and Edmund was preparing to enter the army. Nothing in their career had ever caused her any uneasiness. Mr. Cameron might have had his anxieties about them, but they were not shared with her; and Mrs. Cameron was not a person to go out of her way to seek for trouble. What came before her she accepted; but she had married in order to escape from the worries of a large household, conflicting bills, and a small income; and when she found herself in affluence, and free from the tyranny of a domestic democracy, her naturally indolent mind at once succumbed to the temptations of her position, and all thought of duty being concentrated in the one idea of obedience to her husband, she suffered everything beyond the sphere of his expressed wishes