d a
very thoughtful face.

"Why, what a funny girl you are! You look as if you'd been scolded,
after all, 'stead of praised and promised promotion. What's wrong?"

"Fayette. To think he could run away with Balaam, after all we--or
Cleena has done for him. Of course, he's done things for us, too; but I
thought if we were kind to him, and made him feel that he was dear to
somebody, he would improve and grow a splendid man."

"'Can't make a purse out of a pig's ear,'" quoted Gwendolyn, seriously.
"But don't you fret. He'll be back again, as humble as a lamb. You
couldn't dog him away from 'Charity House,' I believe. He's been just
wild over you all ever since he first saw you and your white burro. Say,
Amy, I'm going to try and not chew any more. Your brother don't like it,
does he, either?"

"No; he detests it. He doesn't like anything that is unwomanly or
coarse."

Then they separated, but in the heart of each was a fresh determination:
in Gwendolyn's that she would make herself into a "real lady," according
to the standard of this brother and sister whom she admired, or saw
admired of others; and in Amy's, to better deserve the encouragement of
her employers, and to support Hallam to the utmost in his new ambition.

But as she resumed her work she reflected, with much perplexity: "I
don't understand yet why Mr. Metcalf is so delightful out of mill and so
different here; nor why cousin Archibald still persists in being
unfriendly, since he has gotten everything he wants."

But she was still too ignorant of life to know that it is commonly the
inflicter of an injury who shows ill feeling, and not the recipient of
it.

The afternoon passed swiftly, as all her days did now, and at the signal
for leaving labor, both the girls hurried to don their outer things and
join Hallam. But Amy had still a word for Mary.

"To-morrow is half-holiday, you know, dear, and I've talked with
Cleena. She wishes you to come and spend the night at 'Charity House,'
and we'll fix things about that club all right."

"What's that about a club?" asked another girl, noticing how the
hunchback's face brightened. "Are you two going to join ours?"

"Maybe; maybe not. Maybe we'll compromise and have but one. Though we
can do little until after Christmas, it's so near now."

"Oh, don't get up another. We have just lovely times in ours. All the
boys come and--but I'll not tell. I'll leave you to see. They wanted I
should ask you, and your br