All the efforts of the practical mother and daughter did not suffice to keep within the limits they dreaded to overpass. Mrs. Liddell's pen became more than ever essential to the maintenance of the household, while the younger widow considered herself a martyr to the most sordid, the most unnecessary stinginess.
A tapping at the door and suppressed childish laughter called Katherine from her thoughts. She rose and opened the door quickly and softly.
"Hush, Cecil! be quiet, Charlie! poor grannie is asleep. Come with me downstairs; I will read to you if you like."
"I don't care for reading," cried Cecil. "Can't you play bears?"
"It makes too much noise. I will play it to-morrow if grandmamma is better. Shall I tell you a story?"
"No," said Cecil; "_I_ will tell _you_ one."
"Very well. I shall be delighted to hear it."
"I would rather have you read, auntie," said the little one.
"Never mind, Charlie; I will read to you after."
"Shall we sit in the garden? We have made it quite clean and tidy."
"No, dear; grannie would hear us there. Come into the dining-room."
Established there, the boys one on each side of her, Katherine listened to the young story-teller, who began fluently: "There was once two little boys called Jimmie and Frank. Frank was the biggest; he was very strong and very courageous; and he learned his lessons very well when he liked, but he did not always like. The two little boys had an aunt; she was nice and pleasant sometimes, but more times she was cross and disagreeable, and she spoiled Jimmie a great deal. One day they went out to walk a long way, and saw lots of people riding, and Jimmmie grew tired, and so did Frank, but Frank would not complain, and their aunt was so unkind that she would not call a hansom; so when they came to a great street Frank thought he would catch an omnibus, and he ran out quick--quick. He would have caught it, but his aunt was so silly and such a coward that she sent a man after him, who nearly dragged him under the feet of a horse that was coming up, and they would both have been killed if Frank had not called out to the cabman to stop."
"Oh, Cecil, that is you and I. _What_ a story! Auntie is not unkind, and you did not call out," cried Charlie.