r apprenticeship in cooking,
nursing babies, patching small clothes, turning old things around and
upside down, in order to make them over. She could market wisely, she
could "manage" on little.

So much for her practical training. She knew all the inconveniences and
anxieties of an insufficient and variable income. But she also knew the
unselfishness, the affectionate give-and-take of a big family. She knew
what miracles the loving patience of her mother daily performed. She
knew the selflessness of her father, which kept him at the treadmill of
his profession that his children might have an education, might have
their chance. Hospitality, kindness, love; these were of the very fibre
of Ann's being.

It was part of the trick Fate played on her that Wally's offer had come
to her the first week she was in New York, when the terror of the Big
Town had just laid hold of her. New York, contemplated from Vermont, was
the city of all opportunity; but New York, face to face, with a
financial reserve of fifty dollars, was a very different matter.

Isabelle had amazed and interested her, and Wally had offered her what
seemed a fabulous salary. No wonder she had seized the opportunity, with
happy plans of sending the first check home, intact. But daily for the
first week, amidst the undreamed-of luxuries of The Beeches she felt
that she must run away, back to the things she knew and understood. And
yet every day brought her evidences of Isabelle's need of her, and Ann's
intrinsic sense of fairness made her feel that somebody ought to stand
by the child.

Her first interview with Mrs. Bryce did not occur until the second day
after her arrival. She waited to be summoned all of the first day, but
heard nothing, saw nothing of her new employer. The second day she sent
word asking for a conference. She was given an audience while Mrs.
Bryce's maid was dressing her to go out to lunch. She nodded casually to
Ann.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes; I--I thought we would better talk over your plans for Isabelle."

"I haven't any plans for her. My only desire is to keep her out of the
way."

"But I don't know what she is permitted to do," Ann began.

"She is permitted to do anything she wants to," laughed Mrs. Bryce.

"But that isn't good for her"--earnestly.

Mrs. Bryce's glance at the girl was full of scornful amusement.

"No, but it's good for the rest of us. We can't live in the house with
her otherwise."

Ann stared. She