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“There, missie! He’s laughing the other side of his face now,” she said, smiling good-temperedly up at Loveday, and holding out the sobbing baby for her to see.

“I don’t think he is at all pretty, whichever side he smiles,” said Loveday very crossly, and without a ghost of a smile on her own face. She knew she was rude and unkind, but she felt at that moment that she wanted to say something nasty, and she said it. Priscilla was shocked, and her father was vexed with her, but Mrs. Rouse only laughed good-temperedly.

“It was your pa that made him to. You must ask him to learn you how to laugh the other side of your face.”

“I don’t want to know, thank you,” said Loveday shortly. “Prissy, will you pin up my shawl, please? If I talk any more I shall catch a cold in my mouth.”

Priscilla got up, and, kneeling on the seat beside her little sister, arranged the shawl very carefully about her.

“I wouldn’t speak like that if I were you, dear,” she said gently; “Mrs. Rouse is such a nice, kind woman, and she doesn’t understand that you don’t like her—her joking.” Loveday jerked away her head quite crossly, but Priscilla went on. “If you laugh and don’t take any notice, they won’t think anything about it; but if you look so cross and say nasty rude things, they will talk ever so much about it.”