fastened to the railing, which sent the hammock back and forth with the utmost rapidity.

"Take care, Nat; you will be out next, and there will be a hubbub worse than the children would think of making in their wildest moments."

The young girl who thus spoke laughed a low, musical laugh, and looked up from her book with a pair of wide-open blue eyes. 2

2

"Nathalie, as usual, thinks only of herself," said Helen with a frown, as she walked away.

"I never can say one word about those children without raising Helen's ire. She spoils them, and she might as well admit it."

"In my short and uneventful career," responded Jean smiling, "I have not found that people are over-fond of admitting anything, least of all their weaknesses. I don't see how you can expect Helen to be superior to all the rest of the world—yourself and myself included. Now, imagine," she continued tantalizingly, "if anyone insisted upon your admitting your weakness for Mr. Church——"

"Oh, keep quiet, Jean; you are too stupid."

"Dear, dear," cried Jean, jumping up and closing her book, "of course I am, and that is my weakness; so now we are quits."

Nathalie tossed her head as much as her position would permit.

"Jean Lawrence," she said solemnly, "you bore me."

"What a catastrophe!" Jean flung back her head with a merry laugh. "Good-by, dear; you are the picture of injured innocence."

"Jean, come back," cried Nathalie, struggling to obtain an upright position. "I do think you are too bad. Ah, well, some day,"—then breaking into song:

"Some day, some day, some day I shall meet you,

Love, I know not when nor how;

Love, I know not when nor how. Only this,

Only this, only this, that once you loved me;

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