wished I were more like other girls; and then she kissed me, and said
I was very good, and she did not mean to hurt me; but she thought
home had the first claim; and so on. You know mother's way."

"I think mother was right there--you think so yourself, do you not
Carrie?" I asked anxiously, for this seemed to me the A B C of common
sense.

"Oh, of course," rather hastily. "Charity begins at home, but it
ought not to stop there. If I chose to waste my time practicing for
Fred's violin, and attending to all his thousand and one fads and
fancies, what would become of all my parish work? You should have
heard Mr. Arnold's sermon last Sunday, Esther; he spoke of the misery
and poverty and ignorance that lay around us outside our homes, and
of the loiterers and idlers within those homes." And Carrie's eyes
looked sad and serious.

"That is true," I returned, and then I stopped, and Jessie's words
came to my mind, "Even Carrie makes mistakes at times." For the first
time in my life the thought crossed me; in my absence would it not
have been better for Carrie to have been a little more at home? It
was Jessie's words and mother's careworn face that put the thought
into my head; but the next moment I had dismissed it as heresy. My
good, unselfish Carrie, it was impossible that she could make
mistakes! Carrie's next speech chimed in well with my unspoken
thoughts.

"Home duties come first, of course, Esther--no one in their senses
could deny such a thing; but we must be on our guard against make-
believe duties. It is my duty to help mother by teaching Jack, and I