I wanted it to go onto the
end, just like a beautiful story that ends happily. I'm sorry I seemed
mean."

Miss Jinny gave her a pat and a kiss. "I guess I feel quite as much
that way as you do, Miss Pat," she said with unusual softness. "I
hadn't the wildest notion of bringing Mary Miller here. I'm going to
take her to Rockham with me."

Patricia's heart sank, but she concealed her feelings sufficiently to
reassure Miss Jinny, who went on briskly:

"I'm going to take her out with us day after tomorrow--she's not going
back to the Academy--and I'm going to get work for her. There's where
you can help. She's a good sewer, she says, though she'd rather live
with someone and do housework."

"Shouldn't think she'd be strong enough for housework," said Patricia,
puckering her brow. "Mrs. Hand wants a 'lady houseworker,' but I don't
believe she'd have an ex-model. She's so awfully particular, you know."

Miss Jinny nodded. "She'd work her to death, anyway," she agreed.
"She's mighty inhuman under her soft outside. Her help don't hear much
of her purry ways, I can tell you. That's why they're always leaving.
No, Mrs. Hand won't do." She sighed in perplexity. "I wish we were
well enough off to keep her ourselves. I've taken a liking to her
quiet ways, and I'd enjoy having her about, I'm sure. Most country
girls are so loud and clumping that I've never wanted help before, but
she's mighty different."

Patricia rubbed the end of her nose with the scissors. "There are the
Haldens and the Berkleys and Tattans," she mused. "They're all
supplied. Perhaps someone will leave and then she can get their place.
Maybe Hannah Ann will have her help sometimes,--we can't afford to have
anyone regularly, you know."

Miss Jinny rose abruptly, and putting away her things, began
preparations for tea.

"Well, it's settled that she's going with us," she said comfortably.
"I guess the future will take care of itself. If we do the best we can
and leave the rest to the Lord, we can't go far astray. I feel that
Mary Miller is going to be taken care of some way."

It had been raining all the afternoon, a gentle persistent rain that
gave no sign of clearing, and they decided, after a cozy dinner at
home, that their projected trip to Rockham the next day would have to
be given up; but when Bruce pulled aside the curtain from the studio
window to compare his watch with the illuminated disc of the St.
Francis clock tower, he