full of “resources within themselves” as Mrs. Elton herself, to the admiration of the whole family, except of the unfortunate Urith, who might have unravelled the mystery, since the cultivation of her domestic virtues by startling and unexpected interruptions of her reading, occupied such of their spare time as was not devoted to the mental exercise of devising new plans for her discomfiture on the morrow.

But, happily for Urith, holidays are terminable, and when the boys left she hoped to do great things.  But visitors came to stay in the house, special friends of her own, with strong theories as to the value of co-operation in the matter of brushing their hair at night.

Midnight conversations did not conduce to work before breakfast or to much energy after it.  It was, therefore, with very mingled feelings that Urith welcomed Aunt Rachel, her outside conscience, whose yearly visit was usually an unmixed pleasure to her.

Having written much about her intentions at first starting, she was not surprised when her aunt, on the first evening of her visit, settled herself for a talk, and began—­

“How is the reading going on?  You were very sensible in saying that you meant to begin at once on leaving school, so as not to get out of the habit of work, and as you have now had three months I suppose you have something to show for it?”

“Well, I thought I should have had, but, you see, the boys wouldn’t let me!”

“I don’t see why you need have drawn the boys’ attention to what you were doing; but since they left—­”

“The house has been full!”

“Yes, my dear, but as you generally do have visitors, your reading will never flourish at this rate.”

“Well, I couldn’t neglect them.”

“No; but they don’t require entertaining before breakfast, do they?”

“No; but I was so sleepy.”

“What time did you go to bed?”

“Well, I suppose I ought not to have stayed in Barbara’s room, but Alice had so many stories to tell us of her adventures that I did not leave them till after twelve o’clock.”

“As Alice is by no means tongue-tied in the daytime, her adventures might have kept, and if you went to bed in proper time, you might get half an hour before breakfast.  But what do you do after breakfast?”

“Oh, then the flowers want doing, and mamma always wants some notes to be answered, and then it is so fine that we go for a walk, and don’t get back till after luncheon, and then visitors come, and I must be there to talk to them; and when it gets cool, people come in for tennis, and as to reading after that, why, one barely gets time to dress for dinner, and in the evening they like me to play to them, and papa wants the paper read to him, and you know, Aunt Rachel, you always said home duties ought to come first, so I don’t see when a girl at home is to read!”