They got out, and Ada found her mamma had already gone upstairs, so she only gave her a kiss at her door, and went up to her own room at the top of the house.
All her vexed, disappointed feeling had now vanished, and only sorrow remained that she should have tried in even a small degree to walk, as it were, alone. A line of a hymn they sometimes sang kept running in her head; and when she laid it wearily upon her pillow, she kept on repeating, till sleep overtook her—
"Choose Thou for me my friends,
My sickness or my health;
Choose Thou my cares for me,
My poverty or wealth.
"Not mine, not mine the choice
In things or great or small;
Be Thou my guide, my strength,
My wisdom, and my all."
[CHAPTER X.]
SISTER AND BROTHER.
"WELL, Ada, how did the gloves go off?" asked Arthur at breakfast next morning.
"Pretty well," answered Ada seriously. "I'll tell you all about it when we start for school."
Arthur looked up in her face inquiringly; but there was a gravity there so unusual that he felt touched, and forbore to take the opportunity of teasing her, which he would otherwise have done.