consciousness that he was doing anything unusual. June felt vaguely
uncomfortable. Ahead of them, when they turned the corner of the street,
her eyes fell on a strange tall red house with yellow trimmings, that
was not built of wood and had two sets of windows one above the other,
and before that Hale drew up.

"Here we are. Get down, little girl."

"Good-morning!" said a voice. Hale looked around and flushed, and
June looked around and stared--transfixed as by a vision from another
world--at the dainty figure behind them in a walking suit, a short skirt
that showed two little feet in laced tan boots and a cap with a plume,
under which was a pair of wide blue eyes with long lashes, and a mouth
that suggested active mischief and gentle mockery.

"Oh, good-morning," said Hale, and he added gently, "Get down, June!"

The little girl slipped to the ground and began pulling her bonnet on
with both hands--but the newcomer had caught sight of the Psyche knot
that made June look like a little old woman strangely young, and the
mockery at her lips was gently accentuated by a smile. Hale swung from
his saddle.

"This is the little girl I told you about, Miss Anne," he said. "She's
come over to go to school." Instantly, almost, Miss Anne had been melted
by the forlorn looking little creature who stood before her, shy for the
moment and dumb, and she came forward with her gloved hand outstretched.
But June had seen that smile. She gave her hand, and Miss Anne
straightway was no little surprised; there was no more shyness in the
dark eyes that blazed from the recesses of the sun-bonnet, and Miss Anne
was so startled when she looked into them that all she could say was:
"Dear me!" A portly woman with a kind face appeared at the door of the
red brick house and came to the gate.

"Here she is, Mrs. Crane," called Hale.

"Howdye, June!" said the Widow Crane kindly. "Come right in!" In her
June knew straightway she had a friend and she picked up her bundle and
followed upstairs--the first real stairs she had ever seen--and into
a room on the floor of which was a rag carpet. There was a bed in one
corner with a white counterpane and a washstand with a bowl and pitcher,
which, too, she had never seen before.

"Make yourself at home right now," said the Widow Crane, pulling open a
drawer under a big looking-glass--"and put your things here. That's your
bed," and out she went.

How clean it was! There were some flowers in a glass v