t--so fond and loving. On the other side of the room lay the lovely
woman who had interested me so much. They thought her dying, she looked
as if she were dead, I never saw anything more perfect. She was like
sculptured marble. They were trying to get every one away and the next
day an official questioned me and offered to make good any loss. I had
my ticket pinned to the lining of my dress, and what money I had taken
with me sewed up in a little bag. There had been a fire as well, and
much of the baggage was burned. I had lost my trunk but they paid me its
full value and more, and sent me on my journey."

"I have told you what a dismal place my brother had in Wisconsin. There
were five big, rough children. I was not fitted for farm work. I missed
my old friends and so I went back to Laconia, but my whole life was
wrapped up in you."

"And many a time I must have seemed ungrateful. Oh, mother, when you did
so much for me!" sobbed Lilian.

"Oh, dear, I have thought it all out. You were not of my kind. It
fretted me at first. You were always a little lady, doing things in a
nicer way than most girls, and you were forever reading and studying. If
we could have kept the boarding house," in tones of regret, "but there
was my long illness and the house was sold torn down for a great
factory. Then I took up the sewing. It was easier in some ways. I liked
Sally Marks and her mother so much. The gay jolliness and the merry
chat. They were like two girls together. But your heart was set on the
High School. Oh, Lilian, do believe I would have kept you there if I
could. Then I began to wonder what your own mother and father had been
like, and if your father was alive. Perhaps he could have done much
better for you. The thought wore on me, and I was not well; I knew that.
You see I should have had a girl who did not mind working in a shop and
enjoying good times with other girls, going to parties and picnics and
having lovers and marrying as I did, and having babies. I loved babies
so. To be a grandmother to a little flock seemed very heaven to me."

"Oh, mother, don't! You will break my heart," sobbed Lilian.

"No, child, you were not to blame. God gave you all these high thoughts
and ambitions; I never had any of them, and after we came here I
understood it still better. You belonged to these kind of people, your
ways were theirs, your ambition was right, and I was very thankful that
such a refuge opened for us. You have been