rom the windows. She
was flushed and perspiring, clad in a coarse cotton wrapper,
revealing all her unkempt curves. She went close to him, and thrust
one large arm through his. "Look here, Andrew," said she, in the
tenderest voice he had ever heard from her, a voice so tender that
it was furious, "you needn't say one word. What's done's done. We
shall get along somehow. I ain't afraid. Come in and eat your
dinner!"

The dressmaking work went on as usual after dinner. Andrew had
disappeared, going down the road towards the shop. He tried for a
job at Briggs's, with no success, then drifted to the corner
grocery.

Ellen sat until nearly three o'clock sewing. Then she went up-stairs
and got her hat, and went secretly out of the back door, through the
west yard, that her mother should not see her. However, her
grandmother called after her, and wanted to know where she was
going.

"Down street, on an errand," answered Ellen.

"Well, keep on the shady side," called her grandmother, thinking the
girl was bound to the stores for some dressmaking supplies.

That night Miss Higgins did not ask for her pay; she had made up her
mind to wait until her week was finished. She went away after
supper, and Ellen followed her to the door. "We won't want you
to-morrow, Miss Higgins," said she, "and here is your pay." With
that she handed a roll of bills to the woman, who stared at her in
amazement and growing resentment.

"If my work ain't satisfactory," said she--

"Your work is satisfactory," said Ellen, "but I don't want any more
work done. I am not going to college."

There was something conclusive and intimidating about Ellen's look
and tone. The dressmaker, who had been accustomed to regard her as a
child, stared at her with awe, as before a sudden revelation of
force. Then she took her money, and went down the walk.

When Ellen re-entered the sitting-room her father and mother, who
had overheard every word, confronted her.

"Ellen Brewster, what does this mean?"

Andrew looked as if he would presently fall to the floor.

"It means," said Ellen--and she looked at her parents with the brave
enthusiasm of a soldier on her beautiful face--she even laughed--"it
means that I am going to work--I have got a job in Lloyd's."

When Ellen made that announcement, her mother did a strange thing.
She ran swiftly to a corner of the room, and stood there, staring at
the girl, with back hugged close to the intersection of the wall