The Evil Genius : a domestic story

terfield (secluded in the sanctuary of her bedroom) celebra

urning. She laid her best blue walking dress and her new bonnet to match on the bed, and admired them to her heart's content. Her discarded garments were lef

" she asked, when the la

eaching him to make a plum cake for himself. He

nt you to take care of him while

er mother - who had shortened it to Syd, by way of leaving as little of it as possible. With a look at Mrs. Westerfield which expressed i

be sure,

ret, ma'am. I'm afraid the littl

rbed by her own plump and pretty hands. She took a tiny file from the dressing-table, and pu

terfield, she had been instructed by the kind-hearted landlady to go on to the top floor. "You will find a pretty lit

rson in the house. Even the new servant had heard of it. Interested by what s

window, was stained with rain that had found its way through the roof. The faded wall-paper, loosened by damp, was torn away in some places, and bulged loose in others. There were holes in

f the door. "Lizzie! Lizzie!" she said, gravely, "you ought to have come

ghing. "Have you got a large family, m

this strange child resumed, setting up the dolls against one of the empty trunks. "The eldest is a girl, and her name is Syd. The other is a boy, untidy in his clothes, as you see. Their kind mamma forg

hed the servant's heart. A bygone time was present to her memory, when she too had been left with

or little arms are red with cold.

a merciful woman could offer. "You are very kind, Lizzie," she answered. "I don't feel the cold when I am p

And now look at the beautiful bright water. There's the island where the ducks live. Ducks are happy creatures. They have their own way in everything, and they're good to eat when they're dead. At least they used to be good, when we had nice dinners in papa's time. I try to amuse the poor little things, Lizzie. Their papa is dead. I'm oblig

ie could control

"Come down, my dear, to the nice warm room where your brother is. Oh, your mother? I don't care if your mother sees us; I should like to give your mother a piece of my mi

r on the way downstairs. "If mamma bounces out on us," she whispered, "pretend we don't see her." The nice warm room received them in safety. Under no stress of circumstances had Mrs. Westerfield ever been know