"I MUST LOVE FIRST, BEFORE I CAN GIVE"

But Jill lost her friend in the tent. Several ladies took possession of him, and Miss Falkner told her to come with her and speak to two little girls who were standing outside. They were evidently twins. Both had white delicate faces and long fair hair reaching almost to their waists.

Jill was much astonished when she heard they were the "Indian nieces."

"Why do they call you Indians?" she asked them abruptly, as Miss Falkner having left them they walked across the lawn towards the band.

"We are not Indians," one of the little girls said indignantly. "We have been living in India and came to England last month. Mother and father are still out there."

"Oh," said Jill in a relieved tone: "I was afraid you would be half black. Mona told me you were coming. What do you do in India?"

Their tongues were loosened, they poured out such a volley of "ride through bazaars," "tiffins," "ayahs," "dobies," "punkahs," "rupees," "gymkanas," and other unknown words and terms that Jill grew quite bewildered.

She questioned them eagerly and was quite impressed with all the strange things they had seen and heard.

"What kind of things do you do?" they asked in their turn. "It seems so dull to us in England, but that's because we are shut up in a school-room with a governess."

"We're never dull," said Jill warmly. "Never! And we're always doing new things every day. Do you see Jack and Bumps anywhere?"

"Who are they? Is Bumps a dog? What a funny name!"

"She's my little sister; we've always called her Bumps because she tumbles about and hurts herself so. They've gone off together somewhere. Now if we find them you'll see the sort of things we do. Whenever Jack and Bumps are missing, they are always up to something!"

Jill commenced a rapid and thorough search for her brother and sister. Miss Falkner was also looking for them, but it was a long time before their search was successful. At last coming to a small artificial lake which was tenanted by some wild waterfowl and white swans, they heard a commotion, and found Jack and Bumps very busy indeed.

Bumps was sitting in a wheelbarrow to which were harnessed with yards of tape and ribbon, two of the swans. It had been a difficult task, to judge from the children's heated, dirty faces. The birds were screeching and fluttering their wings, nearly choking themselves in their efforts to free themselves.

Jack was pushing the wheelbarrow behind, trying to follow the lead of the distressed and angry birds. Bumps, elated by her position, was brandishing a small whip and trying to manage her reins, which seemed a difficult matter.

How they had got hold of the swans at all was a wonder, but Jack's white suit was covered with green slime and soaked with water.

"I'm Snow White," called out Bumps, "but these thtupid thwans won't go prop'ly!"

Miss Falkner said very little, but what she said had the effect of bringing Jack to his senses.

"Well," she said; "you have shortened your happy day by this! What a pity! You evidently were tired of the party. We will go straight back to the school-room and stay there for the rest of the day."

In two minutes she had liberated the unhappy swans and was marching Jack and Bumps—one on each side of her—back to the house. The little girls watched them, half in amusement half in pity.

"That's what I say," said Rose, one of the twins, "a governess spoils every bit of fun!"

"Miss Falkner doesn't," said Jill loyally, "but Jack does sometimes go too far. He nearly hung Bumps the other day. He was pretending to do it, but he got the rope too tight round her neck. She was a Royalist and he was Oliver Cromwell. We had had it in our lesson that day. He said he really felt she was his enemy, and he would have to get rid of her! Miss Falkner was very angry. She is very quiet when she is angry, but she's very nice. I love her!"

Then with a quick change of thought, Jill said—

"Do you get a lot of money? Have you pocket-money?"

"Yes, we have sixpence a week each, but it doesn't seem a great lot."

"Wouldn't you like to give your tenth to God? You can easily, if you like. I'll tell you how it's done."

The little girls looked at Jill completely puzzled, but she had a wonderful way of compelling attention and interest, and before she separated from them that afternoon they had promised to think over the matter, and let her know what they could do.

"You see," said Norah, the other twin, "we haven't very much money to spare. We want every penny of it. We're always wanting to buy things."

"Yes, but God wants it most," said Jill, "and it's such a very little He wants; only one penny out of tenpence, that's all it is. And if you saw the poor people out on Chilton Common, who have no church and who look so dirty and wicked, you'd like to give some money to help them."

"Are you good?" asked Rose looking at her curiously.

"No, I'm awfully wicked," said Jill with conviction, "but giving your money away doesn't make you good. I wish it did."

There was nothing to say to this. They parted excellent friends, but Rose said to Norah afterwards, "She's rather a nice girl, but I feel if I was with her she would make me do a thing whether I liked it or not."

"It's the way she talks," said Norah; "she gets so excited over it. I never heard of a tenth before, did you?"

"No, never. I wonder if Aunt Mary gives it, I will ask her."

Jill had a word or two again with Mr. Arnold before he left. He came up to wish her sister good-bye when she was standing by her side.

"Good-bye, Miss Baron. I am off to my work again to-morrow, so shall not see you again for some time."

Mona looked up at him a little wistfully, then spoke in her most airy manner—

"Good-bye, it is not likely we shall often meet; my path is not yours, as you are so fond of inferring."

He looked at her in silence, then his hand fell rather heavily on Jill's shoulder.

"I think of you," he said, "as you were at this age. This little sister of yours has discovered that she is a steward—help her when she grows up, as you were never helped, to preserve her childish faith and integrity. It is required in stewards that a man may be found faithful!"

Then turning to Jill he said—

"Good-bye, little friend. I am not sorry that I trespassed this afternoon, for I am going away happier than when I came."

"And you don't mind us keeping your five shillings?"

"I shall like to think of it reposing in that scarlet bag you told me about!"

He went, and Mona turned sharply upon Jill—

"Run away, child, to Miss Falkner. It is getting late, you have been here long enough."

Jill obeyed, wondering why her sister spoke so crossly.

It was a few days after this that Jill discovered two more trespassers in the vicinity of Bethel.

She was by herself, and did not feel quite so ready to arrest them when they proved to be Mona and Captain Willoughby.

They had been wandering through the plantation, and Captain Willoughby's voice was very low and earnest when the sudden appearance of Jill startled and disconcerted him.

"You can't come any further, I'm afraid," said Jill barring the way; "for you'll be trespassing."

Mona looked at her in amusement.

"Whose wood is this? Yours or mine?" she asked.

"This corner is ours," answered Jill firmly, "No one used it before we did."

"But what have you been using it for?" inquired Mona.

Jill looked a little rebellious. Captain Willoughby seized hold of her.

"You are the little trespasser, not us, I fancy," he said. "Now then I have got you. Come along, and don't pull away from me unless you want a sore wrist."

So Jill was dragged captive before her board and pile of stones.

Mona looked at it curiously.

"Now what on earth does it mean, Jill? Explain."

"You're trespassers both of you," said Jill stubbornly. "It's got to do with us, and we are the ones that know about it."

"The mighty US!" said Captain Willoughby, who loved to tease her sometimes.

But Mona stopped him, and drew Jill's hand out of his very gently.

"Never mind, Jill dear. We will own ourselves trespassers if you will explain this. What does 'Bethel' mean? It is a Bible word, is it not?"

Jill was quickly appeased. When Mona spoke to her kindly she was ready to tell her anything.

"It is a secret place, and a religious one," she said.

"Of course it comes out of the Bible, and it's not idolatry, though Sam's father says it is."

"I know!" said Captain Willoughby. "It's an altar, and you offer sacrifices on it."

"No, we don't," said Jill indignantly, "we wouldn't be so wicked!"

"But the good people in the Bible always offered sacrifices," argued the young Captain.

Jill looked at him thoughtfully.

"Well, we don't," she said.

"What do you do?" asked her sister. "This is a kind of altar, isn't it?"

"It is a kind of one," admitted Jill, "though Jacob did not call it an altar. He made a heap of stones and called it Bethel, and so we've done it too."

"Oh, I see," said Captain Willoughby. "This is Jacob's heap of stones. Isn't one of them in the King's coronation chair, by the bye?"

"But what use is this to you?" asked Mona, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

"It has to do with our vow," said Jill, speaking fast and earnestly. "We have done what Jacob did, we've told God we'll give Him our tenth. 'Of all that Thou shalt give me, I will surely give a tenth unto Thee.' That's the vow. And if anybody wants to make it I shall let them come here and make it, and they won't be trespassers any longer."

"That's a grand inducement," murmured the Captain, "but what does your tenth consist of, Jill? Sweets and currant-buns, and dolls, and picture-books? I should like the system explained."

"It's the tenth of our money, of course," said Jill, "I thought everybody knew that."

Mona was silent. She was looking a little troubled. Then she turned suddenly to Jill—

"Is this where you brought Mr. Arnold the other day?"

"I found him here," said Jill. "He was a trespasser. That's why he gave me five shillings."

"What have you done with it?"

"I've put it into our bag. Miss Falkner made us a red bag and all our tenth goes into it, and then I take it to Mr. Errington, and he's going to build a mission church on Chilton Common with it!"

Mona gasped, then she began to laugh.

"Hopeful Mr. Errington! I admire his ambition, but I fancy many years will roll by before that church is built!"

"I knew you would laugh," said Jill reproachfully.

"Well," said Mona, looking first at Jill and then at her pile of stones, "I always did say you children had the bump of invention. But I, with Mr. Arnold, will plead guilty of the charge of trespassing; and you must do the same, Captain Willoughby. What will you fine us, Jill? Five shillings? I think we cannot escape with less than that."

"Be merciful," pleaded Captain Willoughby. "If I had known this visit of ours would have entailed such a loss to my pocket, I would have kept a long way off from it!"

Jill looked perplexed.

"I don't want to get money out of people," she said, "but you really are trespassers, and it will be lovely for our bag!"

Mona took her purse out of her pocket, and put half a sovereign into her little sister's hand.

"There!" she said. "Run away and put that into your bag. It is for a good object. Now, Captain Willoughby, we must go back to the house. I promised to drive with Miss Webb at four o'clock, and it is that already."

Jill turned over the gold coin in amazement and delight. She thanked her sister effusively.

"I knew our bag would get on, I was sure it would," she said; and then she scampered back to the school-room, where Miss Falkner was teaching Jack how to arrange his stamps geographically in his stamp album, and Bumps was looking admiringly on.

"Look!" she cried. "Mona has given this to me for our bag! Isn't it perfectly lovely."

She got plenty of sympathy from the school-room party. Miss Falkner had heard at last about "Bethel," but she had respected Jill's wish about it, and had never been there.

That evening when the children were in bed she sat by the open school-room window. Her thoughts were not sad ones, though she had had much in her life to make her sad. And when a slender figure in a black lace gown came across the dusky lawn and spoke to her, it was the young heiress's face that looked weary and troubled, not the governess's.

Miss Falkner looked up brightly.

"Isn't it a delicious evening?"

"Is it? Yes, I suppose so. I wish I enjoyed things as you do, Miss Falkner."

There was a little silence.

Then Mona sat on the low window-ledge and put her light shawl over her shoulders.

"I must have some one to talk to to-night, or I feel I shall go crazy, and I have come out of doors to get away from Miss Webb, because she is so cross with me."

Miss Falkner looked her sympathy but said nothing.

"Jill has altered a chapter in my life to-day, and I don't know whether I am glad or sorry."

"I hope she has done good, not harm," said Miss Falkner.

"From your standpoint—yes. From mine—I'm not so sure. I was about to yield to persuasion, when she interrupted us, but after her interruption, I—well I altered my mind. What a lot of bother one's memory gives one!"

"Sometimes it does."

Mona moved in her seat restlessly.

"Seven years ago, Miss Falkner, I quarrelled with some one that I liked very much. It was about a certain subject. It is strange that this week the same person and the identical subject have both cropped up again."

"I should say," said Miss Falkner, "that the coincident has occurred for a purpose."

"Yes, I knew you would say that." Then after a pause she said—

"Do you believe that prosperity is good or bad for one?"

"I think if we regard our wealth as a trust it will be good for us," said Miss Falkner.

Mona laughed a little bitterly.

"Of course. It is the same old story. People can't give because it's right to give. I hate being forced."

"No," said Miss Falkner gently. "It is only when we love the One to whom our wealth belongs that we love to give it back to Him."

"Then," said Mona, "I must love first, before I can give."

She rose, then looked a little wistfully at the young governess.

"Sometimes I wish I could change places with you," she said, and before Miss Falkner could make any reply she slipped away.