Odd | Page 3

to amuse them,' Molly said reflectively: 'no games
or toys; they never make believe, or pretend the lovely things we do.'
'And their legs get stiff, and their dresses trip them up if they try to run.'
'But they never get punished, and they're never scolded, and they're
never wicked.'
This from Betty.
'It's their talk that is so stupid,' went on Douglas; 'they look nice until
they begin to talk; they make me dreadfully sleepy to listen to them.'
'Shall I go down instead of you to-night?' asked Betty eagerly.
'Don't chatter such nonsense; it's strange times when children begin to
pick their elders to pieces. You weren't asked for, Miss Betty; and
Master Douglas is to go down and behave himself.'
'The three B's aren't big enough yet to leave the nursery.'
Douglas said this with a sparkle of mischief in his eye. It was a sore
point with Betty to be ranked with the twins, for she was only a year
behind Douglas. Long ago he had seized hold of a laughing joke of his
father's, alluding to the names by which the three youngest children
were called, and had twitted her with it ever since.
'B for Baby--Baby Betty, Baby Bobby, and Baby Billy; babies must go
to bed,' he explained.
Betty gave an angry kick under the table, but did not speak.
She was very silent for the rest of that evening; but when she and Molly

were safely in bed, and the room was very quiet, she asked,--
'Molly, do you know what tribulation means?'
'I'm not sure that I do,' was the hesitating reply; 'I think it's something
dreadful. Why do you want to know?'
'Is it like the dark valley Christian went through in the Pilgrim's
Progress, or the goblin's cave we make up about?'
'I expect it is something like. Why?'
'It's on the way to heaven,' whispered Betty, in an awestruck tone; 'the
Bible says so.'
There was silence, then Molly said,--
'There's a book in father's library will tell you about it. It tells the
meaning of every word; father said so. A dick something it is.'
'I'll ask Mr. Roper to get it for me.'
And Betty turned over on her pillow comforted by this thought, and fell
fast asleep.
Mr. Stuart was a Member of Parliament, and being a man who threw
his whole soul into everything he did, was too much engrossed with
business when in town to have much to do with his children. He spent a
great part of his day in the library with his secretary, a quiet young
fellow, who was looked upon by the children as an embodiment of
wisdom and learning. Mrs. Stuart saw as little of her children as her
husband; her time was fully occupied in attending committee meetings,
opening bazaars, and superintending numerous pet projects for
ennobling and raising the standard of social morality amongst the
masses. She was not an indifferent mother; she was only an active,
busy woman, who, after carefully selecting a thoroughly good and
trustworthy woman as her nurse, left the children's training with perfect
confidence to her. And between her social and charitable claims there

was not much time for having her little ones about her. A young
governess came every day for two hours to teach the three eldest ones,
but their life was essentially a nursery one. And when the House was
closed, and the husband and wife would go off to the Continent or to
the Highlands, the children would be sent to a quiet seaside town with
their nurse and the nursery maid.
The following afternoon a little figure stole quietly down to the library
door. Betty knew her father was out, and Mr. Roper never repulsed any
of the children. After a timid knock she passed in, and made a little
picture as she stood in the firelight, in her brown velveteen frock and
large white-frilled pinafore.
'Well,' said Mr. Roper, wheeling round from his writing-desk, 'what do
you want, Betty?'
'I want one of father's books,' the child said earnestly, 'one that Dick
Somebody wrote--a book that tells the meaning of everything.'
'I wish there was such a one in existence,' said the young man, smiling
a little sadly. 'Now what is in your little head, I wonder?'
'It's a word I want to find, please.'
'Oh, a word! Bless the child, she means a dictionary!' and Mr. Roper
laughed as he drew a fat volume out of a shelf, and placed it on a table
by the little girl.
'May I help you to find it?'
'It's tribulation. I don't know how it's spelt.'
He did not ask questions; that was one thing that attracted Betty
towards him. She was a curious mixture of frankness and reserve.