lodge the tiresome old Indian were in vain. Direct dismissal she knew that her husband would not suffer, and all indirect attempts were counteracted by what might truly be called Eda's patience and long suffering. But the scene of the morning had furnished Mrs. Dalton with an excuse for an attempt to carry a plan into execution which she had long revolved. After dinner, when Mr. Dalton enquired why the children did not make their usual appearance, his lady at once replied "that they were in disgrace."
"Pshaw," replied Mr. Dalton, "no great matter, I dare say: come, let them be forgiven, and I will ring the bell for them."
"Will you pardon my opposing your wishes for once?" said she. "I do not often interfere with the management of the children. I feel how delicately I am situated, but really I fear I have been wrong. They are sadly neglected, left entirely as they are under Eda's charge; they are getting too old for the nursery." This was a fact which
