business which took her and her husband from home could not be easily
settled, and they feared they would be detained a whole fortnight at
Portsmouth. Mrs. Mortimer, however, was not uneasy about her boys, for
she knew that the servants, with whom she had left them, were quiet
steady persons, who would not allow them to do what was wrong without
speaking to them; and then Reuben was such an universal favourite, that
she felt sure no one would be wilfully unkind to him. But above all,
Mrs. Mortimer trusted her children with Him who "knoweth our frame and
remembereth we are but dust." Psal. ciii. 14.

Mrs. Mortimer had been absent about a week, and Marten was still in
ignorance of the weakness of human nature, at least as far as he was
himself personally concerned, when one morning Reuben came running to
him in great distress, to say that the doves were missing--his mamma's
own pretty birds that she loved so much; and Reuben, whose tears were
somewhat too ready, began to cry, for he feared, poor child, the cat had
eaten them, or some other misfortune equally distressing had befallen
them.

"Was the door of the aviary open?" asked Marten. "Are you sure it was
open, Reuben? or did you open it yourself?"

"It was open," said Reuben, "wide, wide open--so wide, Marten;" and he
made his brother understand that he had gone inside without stirring it
the least little bit.

"It was open, you say," replied the elder boy, "but how could that be?
You or some one have been careless, very careless, Reuben; for it is
certain the birds could not open it for themselves." Reuben was about to
cry again, but Marten soothed him, for all at once Marten remembered