improvement is slow. I do not see much change in the course of a week."

"That is what Dessie feels, I am sure. But it will be all right in a few months, will it not?"

"I should be sorry to predict any particular advance in any particular time. I am afraid it is likely to be a great many months before she will be able to do much in the way of walking. We are planning to carry her downstairs next week, and to take her for a drive."

"Dessie hates being carried.

rather hop, she says."

She would always.

"Yes, and make her foot worse in doing so." "It must be a very bad kind of sprain," Emmie said thoughtfully. "Why, when papa sprained his foot two years ago, he was well in a month."

"Yes, that was a simple sprain. Dessie's has been dislocation of a severe kind, with a broken bone, and injury to the tendons."

"But in time- " said Emmie anxiously. "She will be all right in time."

"In time-yes, I hope so; but the time may be long. An accident of this kind may leave weakness in the ankle for years. But don't say so to her. I hope she will soon be able to get about better than she can do now. It is very trying for poor Dessie; still, Emmie, one cannot help feeling that it may be the very discipline which she most needs."

"I don't think Dessie feels so," said Emmie soberly.

"Perhaps not. She is more likely to recognise

the fact ten years henco.

But I have a question to

ask you, Emmie. How would you like Dessie to remain with us until the spring?"

"Oh, I should like it very much indeed," Emmeline answered unhesitatingly.

"The matter has been under discussion, and your uncle and aunt seem quite willing to spare her, and indeed very grateful for the proposal. I have not spoken to Dessie yet, for I wished a few words with you first. Dessie is more your companion than anybody's, and sometimes she teases and opposes you a good deal. The plan is not really settled yet. We have only spoken of it provisionally in writing if it seems desirable.' I should like you to have a voice in the matter."

"I shall miss Dessie very much when she goes," said Emmie. "I am much too fond of her to wish it, mamma. As for a little teasing, that does me no harm, and it is only her foot that makes her irritable."

"I expected you to say so. It is quite our wish to keep her. A great deal of time has been lost through this accident, and she has not advanced in her education as we all hoped she would. The accident was nobody's fault, still we have, in a measure, the responsibility of it. The question now is only as to her own wishes."

"I am sure Dessie will want to stay," said. Emmeline. "I am not so sure that Miss Bruce will be glad."

"Miss Bruce is more anxious than any one that Dessie's visit should bo lengthened."

"Oh, then I know why," said Emmie.

"She can

not forgive herself for not taking hold of Dessie the moment she stood up in the carriage. Miss Bruce has spoken of that several times to me."

"She has the feeling, I know."

"Mamma," said Emmie dreamily, "don't you think Dessie is different in some ways from what she was when she first came ? "

"I see a difference, certainly, though not so decided a difference as I could wish."

"I

"I think she is different," said Emmie. think she cares more for doing right; but I don't quite understand Dessie. I am sure she is not happy. She has not been happy for a long while, and yet she hates to speak of her own feelings."

"Does she ever speak to you of them?"

"No-not exactly, mamma. Sometimes a few words slip out, but she never seems willing to do it."

"I should be glad if she were. But now you had better begin to dress, Emmie; and, my dear, don't take up a book in the middle."

Emmie promised obedience to the injunction, and Mrs. Fitzroy went to her niece, whom she found wearing a somewhat sombre countenance.

CHAPTER XXIII.

SOMETHING TO BE DONE.

"DESSIE, I have news for you. Guess what?"

"I can't guess," said Dessie absently. "It isI suppose-Aunt Laura. I have a letter from Ella, and she speaks as if she didn't expect me home by the end of this month."

"I don't think she does. my news?"

Then you do guess

"Am I to stay here a little longer, till my foot is better?"

"We have asked leave to keep you till the end of February, instead of sending you back in a fortnight."

Dessie showed neither pleasure nor displeasure. "Four months and a half-nearly five months," she said. "Will it be all that time before my foot is well enough to travel?"

"Your foot could travel well enough at once, Dessie. Many people take long journeys in a much worse condition. We are thinking of your education, not of your ankle, in proposing to keep you." "Oh, I see!" said Dessie, with a relieved air. "I thought Herr Bücher must have said that I

shouldn't be able to walk till the spring.

I don't

want to be on the sofa all through the winter. Does papa like me to stay?"

"He is quite willing, and so is your mother. Emmie is very much pleased."

"It's a wonder that she should be," quoth Dessie unexpectedly. "I'm sure she hasn't much reason, for I have plagued her unmercifully of late. Some people seem born to be plagues. I expect my going home will be a signal for general family mourning-not here, but there."

"I don't agree with your theory of anybody being born to do wrong, Dessie. You were born to be a comfort and not a plague."

"Haven't developed into it yet-that's all," mumbled Dessie.

"Time you should," said Mrs. Fitzroy quietly. "What do you wish about this plan, my dear? Are you in any haste to go home?"

"O no; not in the least."

"Not home-sick yet?"

"No; not at all. O no; I would a great deal rather be here.

back again."

I should not care if I never went

The words seemed to break out from beneath

some strong pressure of feeling. Mrs. Fitzroy

came a step nearer.

"I do not like to hear that," she said. "It shows something wrong in the home-life."

"Everything is wrong. It doesn't matter," said

Dessie.

"I think it does matter, very much.

Is every