CHAPTER V.

66 THE CHILDREN'S HOUR."

"Between the dark and the daylight,

When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation,

That is known as the Children's Hour.

"I hear in the chamber above me,

The patter of little feet;

The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet."

HIS evening hour, looked upon by so

many as one of their chief delights, was to Alice L'Estrange the crowning glory of the day, and this pleasure was the greater, and its prohibition the more keenly felt, because Alice knew that she gained or forfeited it by her lessons and conduct during the day. If these were satisfactory, she knew the reward was as certain, as if otherwise, the punishment was sure.

It was with an anxious heart and look, that each

afternoon she watched the figures marked down in black and white, which decided her fate for the evening hour. Miss Dudley was kind and patient with her pupil, but she was equally firm and just, so that Alice's judgment-book was a true record of her lessons and conduct.

Alice was a quick, intelligent girl, but she needed application and patience to conquer when difficulties arose. So that there were moments in the schoolroom when Alice's heart was full of despondency, or some bewildering exercise or sum which "would not prove." Then she exclaimed impatiently, "I cannot, no, indeed, I cannot, it is no good trying," and, in utter despair, she would close the book or turn the slate, as if for a moment to hide from her vision the cause of all her woe. Besides these hard lessons of patience and determination, Alice had, as we already know from our first chapter, a still more difficult one to learn, that which tells us that "He who conquers his own spirit, is greater than he who takes a city."

Ah! it was all these forgotten precepts that, often during the past, had marked in Alice's little judgment-book a large B for her conduct, a white O for her lessons, and deprived Alice of her

crowning happiness. Again, there had been days -brighter, happier days-when all lessons and conduct were satisfactory; and Alice received her dearest reward, the full assurance of the "Children's Hour."

Some years since, all the clouds and sunshine of schoolroom and home life had been shared by the brother and sister together, but Charlie had now said good-bye to home teaching, and went every day to the Rectory, where he received instruction from Mr Blackburn, one of Alice's dearest friends. The brother and sister loved each other with an intense devotion. Alice looked up to Charlie as her hero, one who was ever ready to help her out of all danger and peril, her counsellor in times of doubt or difficulty. In the cultivation of her garden, the sowing of seeds, the transplanting of choice flowers, she would do as he thought wisest and best. True, they quarrelled sometimes, but even then Charlie was kind and patient with his little sister, till the blood descended from Alice's crimsoned cheeks, and she would long to make up friends. So through bright hours and dark, the brother and sister loved each other, and shared together the happiness of the "Children's Hour" in their home at Studbury Park, which was

situated in a beautiful part of the beautiful county of Devon.

The grounds here were richly planted with grand old trees which had seen more than one family of the L'Estranges play beneath their shade. There were pleasure-grounds, gardens, and croquet lawns, indeed, all that could please the eye or gratify the taste. As you drove up the long avenue, you could see in the distance a lake with an island in its centre, and a gaily painted boat moored near the shore. In this boat many a happy party sailed off on bright summer days to picnic on that lonely green isle. Not green now; it was white with the heavy fall of snow, and the waters bound fast by ice. The snow had spread its mantle on all around; the trees, which a few months since were rich with foliage, and bowed beneath the weight of their summer glory, were now despoiled, and the branches left to the mercy of winter.

One of Alice L'Estrange's favourite resorts in this grand old country home was the picture gallery. Here were portraits of ladies and gentlemen painted in many different styles - grandpapas and grandmammas, some in the court dress which was in fashion in days long since passed. Alice enjoyed watching all these countenances as they

hung on the wall-wondering if they were bad or good, or should she have loved them. She became a warm partisan of those whose faces she particularly admired, and they always, as she passed, received a friendly nod or some exclamation of endearment as "Oh! you dear old grandpapa, or, you good old soldier, I am sure you fought for King Charles."

Mr L'Estrange seldom went from home without bringing back some work of art for his favourite gallery, till Alice laughingly told him he should I have to take down some of the old ladies and gentlemen, and she was sure they would be jealous.

However, so far, the heroes and grandpapas of the L'Estrange family retained their places of honour, and looked down now on Alice and Charlie, as they had looked on Mr L'Estrange when he was a boy, and had a child's love of gazing on them.

Such was the country home of Charlie and Alice L'Estrange, as beautiful and happy a home as any young imaginative heart could picture. With its summer-houses and rustic seats, its gardens and orchards, and green velvet lawn, its broad gravel walks and drives, and still more enchanting