Catherines Child

n this warm weather. I am very glad Granny is coming, and we will go together to call upon her directly she arr1ves." " Yes, yes. But about my going to town, mamma ? Don't begin by saying at once that I am not to go, as you always do " " You know I never accept such invitations for you, Phil." "Yes, but listen," said her daughter, imploringly. "It is quite different from Cousin Augusta's usual written invitations, which you used to say were hallow (though I am certain now they couldn't have been). She really means it, and Cousin Cecil wants me to go, too ; and, what is more, they are not only going to ask you themselves, but they are going to get Granny to speak to you about it." " Indeed," said Catherine. She was not readily displeased, but the colour rose in her soft face. Philippa stood looking down upon her mother, tapping an impatient foot upon the polished oaken floor of the little parlour. Against the background of innumerablebooks which lined the room" from floor to ceiling, her handsome, fresh-coloured face and bright hair stood out with striking effect. Catherine looked up from the writing- table, where she had been making up her farm accounts, at the dearly loved face, now deeply flushed with purest carmine; at the curved mouth, with its short upper lip and corners sulkily drooping ; at the straight brows drawn into a frown above the black-lashed deep-blue eyes. "After all, I'm sixteen," said Philippa, rebelliously. " At...