fain have persuaded her to join them once more and to put things on their old footing.

Gracie was not doubtful of Maggie, nor of Bessie, nor yet of Belle Powers and Fanny Leroy; in fact, she knew she would be received kindly by the majority of the members, but about Lily and two or three others she had her misgivings, and hence that doubtful, half-deprecating glance at the former, who stood at Maggie's elbow.

Lily caught it, and, although she had intended to be very offish and high and mighty with Gracie for the rest of her days, her heart smote her, and flinging her former resolution to the winds, she followed Maggie's example, and laying her hand persuasively on Gracie's muff, said, with her usual directness:

"Oh, come on, Gracie! Don't let's have any more madness and being offended among us. It's horrid; so let by-gones be by-gones, and come to the club meetings again."

"If they only knew," thought Gracie, "they would not ask me, would not say 'let by-gones be by-gones;'" but she said that she would come to the meeting, and then they parted and went their separate ways.

When Maggie and Bessie reached home, they found Colonel Rush there awaiting them, and heard that he had come to take them to his own house. Lena, his niece, was coming down to dinner for the first time since she had been so badly burned; that is, she was to be carried down, for her poor little feet were still too tender to suffer her to put them to the ground, or to take any steps upon them. But she had been so long a prisoner upstairs that it was quite an event for her to be allowed to join the family at dinner once more; and the Colonel had seen fit to make it a little more of a celebration by coming for Maggie and Bessie to make merry with them on the occasion. Indeed, he was apt to think that such occasions were not complete without the company of his two pets, and they had both been perfectly devoted to Lena during the period of her confinement, so that he was more than ready to make this a little jubilee for all concerned.

Mamma's permission being readily obtained--indeed the Colonel had secured it before the two little maidens had appeared upon the scene--the three friends set forth again, well pleased with one another and with the prospect before them.

"Lena has had quite an eventful day," said the Colonel, as they were on their way to his house. "First and greatest, I suppose, was a letter from her brother Russell--only a few lines, it is true, but the first she has had since he was taken ill, and it was full of loving praises for her presence of mind and her bravery, and for the patience with which she has borne her suffering; so it was very precious to her, for she adores him, you know; and there was another from her father, containing news which she would like to give you herself, I am sure; so I leave it for her to do so. And now comes her first dinner with the family, with you to dine with her. But she is such a cool, composed little woman, and takes things so quietly, that we are less afraid of over-excitement for her than we would be for some I could name."

"Now, Uncle Horace," said Maggie, as he looked down at her with a twinkle in his kind eyes, "you know I would keep quiet if you told me to."

"You would try, I am sure, Midget," answered her friend, "but there are girls and girls, you know, and it is easier for one species to keep quiet under exciting causes than it is for another."

"But you can't tell how _this_ species would be in such circumstances," said Maggie, "because I have never been very ill or had any terrible injury, such as Lena's burns."

"I can tell that you are a very 'happy circumstance' yourself, and that I am quite satisfied with you as you are," answered the Colonel, bending another loving look upon the rosy, glowing face upturned to his, and which broke into dimples at the allusion to an old-time joke.

Long ago, when Maggie was a very little girl, she had been very fond of using long words--indeed, she had not yet outgrown this fancy; but in former days, whenever she heard what she called "a new word," she would presently contrive some occasion for using it, not always with the fullest understanding of its exact meaning; and the results, as may be supposed, were sometimes rather droll.

One summer, when Mr. Bradford's family were at the sea-shore, and Colonel and Mrs. Rush were their near neighbors, Maggie had taken a violent dislike to the mistress of the house where she boarded. The woman was somewhat rough and unprepossessing, it is true, and hence Maggie had conceived the prejudice against her; but she was kind-hearted and good, as the little girl learned later. Having heard some one use the expression, "happy circumstance," Maggie took a fancy to it; and, as she informed Bessie, immediately resolved to adopt it as one of "my words."

An opportunity soon presented itself. Mrs. Jones offended both children, Maggie especially, and soon after, she asked Mr. Jones in confidence, if he thought Mrs. Jones "a very happy circumstance." Fortunately, the man, a jolly, rollicking farmer with a very soft spot in his heart for all children, took it good-naturedly and thought it a tremendous joke, and his uproarious merriment called Mrs. Jones upon the scene to reprove him and inquire the cause, greatly to the confusion and distress of poor embarrassed, frightened Maggie. And this was increased by the fact that she took occasion to praise Maggie and Bessie and to say what good, mannerly children they were.

Mr. Jones, however, did not betray confidence, and later on, Maggie changed her opinion; but the "happy circumstance" had remained a family joke ever since, and the expression was frequently brought into use in the sense in which Maggie had employed it, and the children laughed now as the Colonel used the old familiar phrase.

CHAPTER II.

LETTERS.

They found Lena in the library, ensconced in state in her uncle's comfortable rolling chair, in which, in by-gone days when he was lame and helpless, he had spent many hours, and in which she could easily be conveyed from room to room by the Colonel's man, Starr, without putting her still tender little feet to the ground. It was natural that she should be glad to be down-stairs again after all the past weeks of confinement and suffering; but Maggie and Bessie found her in a state of happiness and excitement unusual with the calm, reserved Lena, and which seemed hardly to be accounted for by the mere fact that she had once more been allowed to join the family circle.

But this was soon explained.

"Maggie and Bessie," she said, with more animation than her little friends had ever seen her show before, "what do you think has happened? Such a wonderful, such a delightful thing! I cannot see how it did happen!"

Such a thing as had "happened" was indeed an unwonted occurrence in Lena's young life; but she had been through so many new experiences lately, that she might almost have ceased to be surprised at anything.

If she could have looked in upon her father and mother and invalid brother Russell, in their far away southern sojourn a few days since, she would have seen what led to the present unexpected occurrence. Mrs. Neville had just read to the two gentlemen a letter from her brother, Colonel Rush, speaking of Lena's continued imprisonment; and they had continued to talk of their little heroine and her achievement.

"Was Lena delirious at any time while she was so very ill?" asked Russell.

"Not exactly delirious," answered his mother, "but somewhat flighty at times; and at those times, and indeed when she was herself, her chief thought and her chief distress seemed to be that she would not be able to enter into competition with her schoolmates for some prize to be gained for composition. Your Aunt Marion told me that this prize was an art education provided by some one for a girl with talent, whose circumstances would not permit her to obtain one for herself; and she said that Lena had become very much interested in an English girl, the daughter of the rector of a poor struggling church in the suburbs of the city, a girl with a very remarkable artistic talent; and that she and those little Bradfords, on whose education and training Horace and Marion seem to base all their ideas respecting children--if, indeed, they have any ideas except those of the most unlimited indulgence and license--had set their hearts on winning this prize for that child. Had it been brought about in any other way and without physical injury to herself, I should be glad that Lena was removed from such competition. I highly disapprove of all such arrangements. Children should be taught to seek improvement and to do their duty because it _is_ their duty, and not with the object of gaining some outside advantage either for themselves or others."

"In this case, it certainly seems to have been for a praiseworthy, unselfish object. Poor, dear little Lena!" said Russell, who was the only member of his family who ever ventured to set up his opinion in opposition to his mother's.

"It is the principle of the thing I object to," she said, a little severely. "As I say, I wish my children to do right because it is right, and not with any ulterior object."

"The inducement seemed to have one good effect, at least," persisted Russell, with a slight shrug of his shoulders which was not, perhaps, altogether respectful, "and that was the wonderful improvement Lena made in letter-writing; in the matter and manner, the style and the handwriting, she has certainly made rapid progress during the time she has been with Miss Ashton. Do you not agree with me, father?"

"Ahem-m-m! Yes, I do indeed," answered Mr. Neville, thinking of a little letter which lay snugly ensconced in his left-hand waistcoat pocket, a letter which had come by the same mail as that which his wife held in her hand, but which he had not thought fit to submit to her perusal. It was a letter thanking him for giving her the liberty of asking for anything she wished for--her choice had been that she might be allowed to remain at her uncle's house during the stay of the family in the country--a letter sweet, tender, and confiding, and giving him glimpses into the child's heart which were a revelation to