old friend, Sir Walter; that will be enlivening to both of us."

"There is the first dinner-bell," said Edith; "I must run and get ready. O Basil, forgive me, I didn't mean to do that."

66

Forgive you! there is nothing to forgive. I'm glad you care so much. It's very pleasant to be an exception to your general opinion of boys."

"You're not a boy," said Edith, laughing.

She met Harry just outside the door. It was wonderful to see how gentle and quiet the boys were with their invalid brother. It seemed as if Basil's illness had called out all the best points in their characters. Harry even forbore to tease Edith now; and hushing his merry whistle as he came near his brother's door, he asked Edith how he was.

"He says he's better. But, O Harry, how ill he

looks!"

"Doesn't he? But papa thinks he'll get better Poor old Basil! it's awful hard lines for him

now.

to be ill. May I go in and see him, do you think?"

I've just been in.”

"Of course you may.
From that time Edith was allowed to

visit every day, and read aloud to him for a while; and she looked forward to this as her greatest enjoy

ment.

Basil gained ground slowly but steadily. The bright summer days were favourable to him, and his

parents began to hope that he might really recover. The household had got over the shock which his danger had caused, and things went on much as usual, in their quiet ordinary routine. Only in one heart "envy, hatred, and malice, and all uncharitableness," were doing their deadly work, and that was in Julia's, who became every day more and more jealous of the missionary's little daughter, whom she pretended to despise.

ONE morning Edith came into Basil's room with a face full of trouble. She carried in her hand some roses and geraniums, which she gave to him, saying,

"Mrs. Cleve has sent you these; shall I put them in water?"

"Don't say that. Say you won't tell me, if you like. But I've got a pair of eyes, and they tell me that something has gone wrong."

"Oh, you won't care."

Basil looked vexed.

"What has your brother Basil done that you are going to give him up?"

"It isn't you; you know I don't mean that; but it's several things all together."

Basil did not speak, and Edith went on arranging the flowers silently. When her work was finished, she brought the little vase over to the table by his side, and put it down.

"Shall I read now?" she asked.

"If you please," said Basil.

She got the book, but had only read two or three lines, when she closed it abruptly, saying,

"Please, Basil, I think I must tell you, if you don't mind."

"I want to hear very much," he said, smiling.

"Well, then, I'll begin with the worst thing first. This was the morning that I ought to have got my letter from papa, and it didn't come, and that made me unhappy. And the next thing was, you know, about our mark-books? Well, I had got a great many half-bad marks, but not one whole one; and Mrs. Stanleigh said there should be a prize for whoever did not get one round ugly 'O' the whole half. Neither Julia nor I had any; and I was so hoping that I should get the prize, to please papa, because it would show him that I was really trying to do what he wished; and I knew that I had a great many more good marks than Julia, and Marian had ever so many bad ones, so I was pretty sure of the prize; but Miss Applecross said that I should have a

'very bad' mark if I left anything about, to cure me of untidiness; so I've been careful, always putting my books away, and keeping my pens and blottingpaper in my desk; and I know for certain that I have not left my things about. But, this morning, Miss Applecross held up my 'Markham's France,' and said, 'A whole bad mark for you, Edith; and I hope it will help to cure you of your untidiness.' I said I knew I had not left it about-that somebody else must have been using it. Then she told me to try and remember if I had lent it to any one; and I thought I recollected Julia asking me for it, and I said so; but Julia got very red and angry, and said she had done with such baby-books long ago, and that it was quite absurd, and I was trying to put off my bad mark on her. And so Miss Applecross said if I made any more false excuses she should give me another bad mark for want of truthfulness, and that she was sorry to have noticed several times in me a want of uprightness and straightforwardness: and, O Basil! what would he say to hear that?"

"Poor Edith! this is a very sad story. I can't help feeling very much inclined to pitch into Miss Applecross. But are you quite certain that you did not leave the book about?"

"Quite

don't care.

and if they don't believe my word, I I won't try any more. I'll get as many