"And they did not leave any more messages?"

"None whatever. Now, Hugh, as Agnes has pumped me dry, let Alice take a turn at _you_!"

Alice, till her brothers came in, had been leaning over the fire, deeply buried in a book and now turned round to it again, as if she would very much rather read than do anything else.

Hugh seeing this, advanced a step nearer, and his eyes looked mischievous.

"Well, Alice, don't perfectly smother a body with questions. One at a time. What's the first?"

"I don't know; I haven't any to ask."

"You mean you're too busy?"

"No," answered Alice, half vexed.

"Perhaps you're cold, you're such a long way off from that tiny fire!"

"I'm not cold," said Alice, putting her hand up to her glowing face.

"Not? Now I really thought----"

But a gentle voice interrupted what was becoming too hot for poor Alice's temper, and aunt Phyllis said:

"Grandmama invites you all to dinner to-day, my dears, at two o'clock; will you come?"

At the word dinner Agnes started. "Oh dear, auntie, I forgot it was my duty now to see after dinner! I do not believe I should have thought of it for ever so long."

"Cook would have reminded you, I dare say," said her aunt, smiling.

"What are you boys going to do this morning?" asked Agnes.

"I'm going to my room to have a general turn out for the holidays, and shall not be visible again till five minutes to two."

"That's a good thing," said Agnes, laughing.

"Your politeness is only exceeded by your truth," said John, giving his aunt a kiss, and disappearing through the door before Agnes could give him back an answer, had she wished it.

"And what is Hugh going to do?" asked Miss Headley, turning to him.

"Tease Alice," said Hugh, nodding towards the crouching figure by the fire.

"I was going to say that I have to go to see a woman in Earl Street, and wanted you to carry my basket for me, Hugh. Can you spare time, do you think?"

"All right, auntie."

"Where's Hugh going?" said Minnie, sleepily, opening her eyes.

"He is going out with me, darling; would you like to go too?"

"I don't know; I think I'm going to sleep again."

She turned her back on the room, and vouchsafed no further notice of her aunt, nor of anyone else. Agnes gave a glance of apology, but Miss Headley answered by a look that it was not needed, and in a few moments took her leave, followed by her nephew, who ran in next door for the basket, and caught her up before she had reached the corner of the street.

Agnes left the room, and Alice woke up from her book to find herself alone.

She was just going to stoop again over it, when her eyes caught the unaccustomed frame upon the wall, and she could not but see the words, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?"

"I've nothing to do but this now," she said, drawing her shoulders nearer to the blaze. "It's holiday time, and I have not lessons or duties of any kind; I may do as I like."

But though she tried to read, she could not forget that question. At first she determined to shake it off, but by-and-by her book fell closed on to her lap, and she looked up straight at the words, thoughtfully.

"This is the first way I am keeping my resolves; a pretty way!"

"Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?"

Then she waited, as her father had said--waited, looking at the words as if they would shine out with an answer. And so they did; for as her eyes rested on the last word, she suddenly started up.

"Do," she said, half aloud. "I don't suppose He likes me to sit here idling my time. I wonder if Agnes wants me? Or if not, I promised mother to practise a whole hour every day, and as I am going out to dinner I shall have to do that first."

Then her eyes met Minnie's wondering ones shining out from among the golden curls and crimson sofa cushion, and she heard a little voice say:

"Who wants you to '_do_'?"

Alice pointed with her finger towards the text.

"Oh!" said Minnie, comprehending.

"But I didn't remember you were there, or I should not have spoken aloud."

"I forgot what Agnes said, because I went to sleep; but----"

"Yes," answered Alice, waiting for what the little pet sister wanted to say.

"I don't think He would have liked me to cry so _much_, if I had asked Him first."

And with another little sob she rushed past her sister and flew up the stairs.

At five minutes to two o'clock, John opened his bedroom door and called Agnes.

She was just coming out on the landing, with her hat on, followed by Minnie and Alice.

"Come and see my arrangements," he said, opening the door wider.

"I don't see anything particu----Oh!" with a start, "why, John, where did you get that?"

"Out of these two hands of mine, to be sure, and these eyes, and that paint box, and that cardboard."

On the wall hung the same text that their father had prepared with such care downstairs, only that John's was not framed, but put up with four small nails.