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Miss Neil slowly and deliberately stirred her tea, and by-and-by she put down the empty cup and saucer.

Christian again raised herself and peeped through the curtain. She watched her mother's straight little profile—the pretty lips, the resolute chin, the low forehead, the pretty brown eyes.

"And yet she is hard," thought the child. "She speaks as though she did not care. I always thought mumsy pretty, but somehow I don't think her pretty to-night. She is hard; yes, that's it—hard."

Miss Neil began to draw on her gloves.

"I will call at eleven o'clock to-morrow," she said. "And rest assured, Mary, I shall help you by every means in my power."

"Thank you, dear; I am sure you will. Good-by for the present. Please make a list to-night of what you think will be required for a child whose parents will be in Persia for four or five years. Of course, she must have fresh things from time to time, but I want her to take all that is necessary for her."

"I will indeed; I will with pleasure do what I can for your little Christian. Good-by for the present."