ELLIE'S SECOND WARNING

The two girls avoided John all the next day, for with feminine instinct they divined their case would come up for grave consideration, and neither cared to be questioned or chastised.

When this startling incident came to the ears of Aunt Clara Tyler, she buckled on her aggressive armor of righteousness, but like the tactful soul she was, she drew over her steel coat the soft velvet robe of tender sympathy and bided her time.

Two nights after Dian's encounter, the girls were out at a neighboring party. Returning somewhat late, Aunt Clara's watchful ears heard them call out their merry good-nights to their companions, and the psychological moment was upon them.

The girls found her busy at their own wagon-box bedroom, and they were glad for a pair of sympathetic ears in which to pour out the story of "what he said" and "she said" with the evening's trivial happenings, all of such moment to young, fresh hearts.

"How good it is to get a word with you, Auntie," cooed Ellen, "you are off so much with the sick that I don't get a chance to hug you once a week."

Joining in their merry chatter, the two girls sitting cross-legged on their narrow bed, their mentor sat on the stool at the front end of the box, and gently led them into deep conversational waters.

"These brilliant men of the world do know how to say pretty things, don't they?" said Ellen, after Dian had related the river incident, in her own candid fashion.

"And he never said a rude word or did an offensive thing," finished Dian.

"Good manners, my dear, are only the real or the assumed expression of a truly unselfish soul. Tact is like charity—it sometimes covers a multitude of sins."

Ellen sat silent while this talk went on; Aunt Clara noted it and drew her own shrewd conclusions.

"Well, why must this sweet and gentle courtesy belong only to men who are not good, Aunt Clara?" continued Dian.

"It mustn't, and yet it too often does. Pioneer life in every country leaves very little time for young men especially to cultivate the amenities of life. Aren't our leaders courteous, and can you find lovelier ladies than Sister Eliza R. Snow and Zina D. Young? Our girls are as crude in much of their behavior as are our boys. First the marble must be hewn out, then comes the polish."

"I love the polish," murmured Ellen. And Dian added frankly:

"So do I! The rocks in the hillside are ugly!"

"Not ugly—their rough beauty appeals to an educated mind. And polish is so deceptive. You could enamel any cheap and poor surface, but heat or power would crush the false substance into powder. Ah no, my dear motherless girls, it is my duty to warn you! I see what your youthful eyes could not perceive. The allurements of bad men and corrupt worldliness, have ever been and ever will be present with us in this world. 'Take away the devil's fascination, and you would cut off his right arm at the shoulder,' is an old proverb. The only safety for youth and inexperience is to take the counsel of their parents and guardians. I am a widow, and earn my living by nursing the sick. So I am obliged to leave you girls to watch yourselves much of the time."

"But taking counsel always means to do the thing you don't want to do," pouted Dian, "and to leave undone the things you would like to do."

"That pretty nearly sums up life's best discipline. And now let me warn you, my dear, precious girls, let that soldier alone, and every other man whose life and character is unknown to your guardians; have fun, enjoy yourselves, but don't go outside your own safe circle for pleasure or for peace."

"Oh, pshaw!" grumbled Diantha. But Aunt Clara knew that the temporary resistance of Diantha's frank nature would yield in time, and that above all, she could never quite bring herself to disobey any given counsel. That was the rock upon which the girl's character was builded. As for Ellen:

"Ellie," said her aunt, solemnly, "let me warn you and forewarn you against any evil temptation such as has just assailed Diantha. I'm sure I don't know how you would come out from such a test, my dear, for you do love admiration so well."

"Of course Diantha's the perfect one," replied Ellen, sharply; "I am never quite safe or quite right," but she was very glad Dian had kept her secret. For there was surely no need of Aunt Clara knowing all that!

Alack! The loyalty of youth to youth sometimes works them grave disaster. If Diantha had only been a little less loyal, Aunt Clara would have been set upon the watch tower; for she, with her riper years, knew the weakness as well as the charm of her pretty niece as inexperienced Dian could not then know. But both girls had now been rightly taught and cautioned, and so the elder woman kissed them good-night and left them to the deep slumber of youth and health.