had to listen.

She laid down her book. "The church bell is ringing," she said to Judy.

"I hear it," said Judy, indifferently.

Anne stood up--with a sidelong glance at the enchanting vision in the
mirror. "I think I ought to go," she hesitated.

Judy turned to look at her.

"Don't be so good, Anne," she said, with a teasing laugh; "be wicked
like I am, just for one day--"

"You are not wicked."

"Well, I haven't a proper sense of duty."

"You have too. You just like to say such things, Judy, just to shock
people."

Which shows that in two days, wise little Anne had found Judy out!

"Well, I'm not going to church, anyhow," and Judy settled back and
closed her eyes.

Anne's book was open at the fascinating place where Toby Veck eats his
dinner on the church steps; the deep rose-cushioned chair opened its
wide arms in comfortable invitation. It was the little girl's first
taste of the temptation of ease,--and she yielded. But as she picked
up her book again, she soothed her conscience with the righteous
resolve--"I will go to service this afternoon."

As she settled back, the girl reflected in the mirror looked at her.

"Your hair looks beautiful," said the reflection.

Anne dropped her eyes to her book.

Presently she raised them.

"If only the people in church could see," said the charming reflection.

Anne imagined the sensation she would make as she walked up the aisle.
None of the girls in Fairfax or the country around had ever worn their
hair puffed over their ears or tied with broad black ribbon. There
would be a little flutter, and during church time the girls would look
at nothing else, and it would be delightful to feel that for once she,
little plain Anne Batcheller, was the center of attraction.

She dropped her book. "I think I will go, after all," she said
virtuously, and Judy, not knowing her motive, looked at her with envy.

"You are a good little thing, Anne," she said, and at the praise Anne's
face flamed.

She dressed hurriedly, in her one white dress, with a sigh for the
becomingness of the blue kimona. When she was ready to tie on her old
hat, she went to the mirror.

"It is because your hair is so pretty that you are going to church,"
said the reflection, accusingly.

"It is because of my conscience," defended Anne, but she did not dare
to meet the eyes in the mirror, and she turned away quickly.

"You look awfully nice," Judy assured her, as Anne said "Good-by.