Sibyl to her to adjust her hat, which, with characteristic disregard of appearances she was about to tie on hind part before. So Mr. Merivale and Harold were left to entertain each other for a moment.

"It's a fine day for a walk," said Harold, feeling constrained to say something.

"Very," said the Vicar, drily.

Not another syllable passed between them; but Harold's head drooped as if beneath a rebuke. When Brian found himself in the open air, with Mr. Merivale and Sibyl, he shook off the gloom that hung over him, and ere long was in his usual state of wild, unrestrained spirits. They called at the vicarage for Austin and Philip, and the four children amused themselves with running races along the road, leaving Mr. Merivale to his solitary meditations. Brian had obtained leave for Nial to be of the party, and great was the entertainment to the little Merivales of seeing him run to fetch the sticks and stones which Brian threw for the purpose. In their merriment they took no note of distance, and all seemed surprised when the Vicar stopped at the gate of a lonely little cottage, saying, "I think this must be the extent of our walk to-day, little people; and, as I want to pay a visit to old Mrs. Rogers, I must leave you to yourselves for a few minutes.'

He was unfastening the gate which led into the little strip of garden in front of the cottage, when a sickly but pleasing-looking young woman accosted him with the inquiry, "Oh, if you please, sir, shall I find Mrs. Merivale at home? I was going to her about my clothing-club money. My husband's brother has got him work in Chatham dockyard, and we're going right away to Chatham to live, so I must take my money out of the club, if you please, sir." The Vicar showed all due interest in the news,

and ended by regretting that both Mrs. Merivale and Mildred were gone for a long drive with Mrs. Lingard, and would probably not be back until quite late.

"The little lady cast up my book last time, sir," said the woman hesitatingly.

Sibyl? Then perhaps she can do it again; she knows more of the club matters than I do, for she is learning to help her mamma in that sort of things. Just let me see your book though, Mrs. Oswald."

"I'm afraid you'll find it looks rather cur'ous, sir," said Mrs. Oswald, blushing as she produced it. "Father was a-trying to add it up last night, and not being a very good reckoner, he made some little jottings at the side to help him on like."

The "little jottings" were in figures of quite as large size as those of the original sum, and as they were not divided from it in any way, the confusion may be imagined. Mr. Merivale, not knowing the arrangement of the book, was fairly puzzled, and called Sibyl to his assistance.

"Do you understand it, Sibbie ?" he whispered, smiling, "it regularly beats me.

"Oh yes, see, those are mamma's figures, that middle column," said Sibyl, with ready comprehension of the affair. "It's a pity that there are all those figures at the side, they make it so confusing, but I think I know how it ought to be."

"Well then, you shall add it up, while I go and see Mrs. Rogers, and when I come out I will give you the money; or shall I ask Mrs. Rogers to let you come and sit down at her table ?"

"Oh no, she talks so, I can do it better here; but see, papa, what a lot of horrid figures!" And Sibyl looked as if she did not like the task at all.

"Hush," said her father, "no grumbling, you ought to be glad to be a useful little girl," and

putting his pencil in her hand, he turned towards the cottage.

Sibyl sat down on the low gate, which was the only opening in the hedge that bordered each side of the lane for about half a mile. Brian came to look over her, and began loudly to commiserate her for having such a disagreeable task, when she pressed his arm, and made him look towards Mrs. Oswald, who was standing at a little distance, yet not so far off but that she could hear him when he Iraised his voice.

"It is not so very bad," she said, "only these columns of pence to be added up and made into shillings, and then a penny on each shilling to be added for interest. Five and two are seven, seven and four are eleven, eleven and three are fourteen. Go away, dear Brian, you only fidget me."

"You seem to go at it famously," said Brian, I thought you hated arithmetic. Why can't you give her the money out of hand without bothering about adding it up ?"

"Why how should I know what to give her then? oh, Brian, don't be silly. Fourteen and five are nineteen, nineteen and eight-no, that eight is one of Mr. Oswald's figures; oh dear, where was I?"

Brian saw that she would really do better alone, so he left her and went to the boys, who were trying unsuccessfully to make Nial leap the hedge. Sibyl got through one column of figures satisfactorily, but just as she was turning the leaf she happened to glance towards Mrs. Oswald, and saw that she was looking very tired, and leaning for support against the thorny hedge.

"I must make her sit down," thought Sibyl, starting up, and running towards her she said, "I am going to stand, so you had better sit down on the gate, had you not? It is not very comfortable, but it will rest you a little."

Of course Mrs. Oswald objected to taking the "little lady's" seat, but Sibyl affirmed so energetically that she intended to stand, and insisted so strongly on Mrs. Oswald's sitting down, that at length she was prevailed on to do so.

After this, Sibyl felt in better humour with the puzzling figures, and got on so famously with her addition that she had arrived at the sum total before her father appeared.

"Did you make it the same?" she said, showing the result to Mrs. Oswald.

"Indeed, miss," replied the woman, smiling, "Father never got as far as that, and I'm no reckoner at all myself. I make no doubt you've done it right, and I thank you kindly."

"I think it is right," said Sibyl, "but mamma will go over it again with her book, and if I have not made it enough, she will send you what is over."

"But suppose you should have made it too much, miss ?”

"Why, then I must give the Club some of my own money to make up, that will serve me right for being stupid."

"Dear miss, you shouldn't say that, you're but a little creature, to be so quick at figures," said Mrs. Oswald, looking admiringly at the child's intelligent face; "I wonder that you've taken to them so early, that I do."

"I haven't taken to them, but they've taken to me," replied Sibyl, with a droll look. "Papa makes me do sums every morning."

"Ah! you've a good papa, miss," said Mrs. Oswald, warmly; "I wish we could stay in his parish, I'm sure. You should hear my little boy Georgy talk of him, and of Master Austin too. Which is Master Austin of those young gentlemen ?"

"The dark one; would you like to speak to him? Here, Austin!"

Austin came running up, and when Sibyl explained that this was Georgy Oswald's mother, and that Georgy was going away the next day, he produced a fine ripe orange from his pocket, and putting it into Mrs. Oswald's hand, said, "Give him that with my love, and tell him I shall miss him in the class very much. Mildred says he's the best boy in it."

Mrs. Oswald looked very pleased, and observed with a smile, " He says you're the best in the class, Master Austin, and he begged me to give his duty to you, and the same to Miss Wynne, with the best of thanks for all she's taught him."

"What's the row ?" inquired Brian, as Austin returned from his conference with Georgy's mother."

"Why, that's the mother of a little boy that's in the same class as me in the Sunday School, Mildred's class, you know. She looks very pale, poor woman. I'm glad Sibyl gave her up the seat on the gate."

"How's Sibbie getting on with the bothering arithmetic ?"

"O, she's done it. She was very good about it, wasn't she, Brian ? for you know she hates sums. I've seen her almost crying over them at home, but papa makes her do them all the same."

"Pleasant!" said Brian, shrugging his shoulders, “I can't make out you people."

"What can't you make out?"

"Why, how you can all be so happy and jolly, and so fond of your papa and mamma, when you have to do such disagreeable things, and never hardly get your own way."

Austin's gipsy eyes sparkled with fun. "We're poor miserable little creatures, aren't we, Philip ?"